'It's nice to know you're such a fan, Caruthers.' Valentino's voice was smooth, but Miller felt sweat break out under her armpits.
She tried to keep her expression bland, but mild sparks of panic were shooting off in her brain. She had a vague recollection of Dexter talking sport during various meetings, but she'd had no idea he was such a motor racing fan either.
'I follow real sports.' The beer bottle swung a little too vigorously in his loose hold. 'Football, rugby, boxing,' Dexter opined.
Valentino smiled in a way that made Dexter's comment seem as childish as it was.
Undeterred, her boss tilted his head. 'And you know, of course, that Miller doesn't follow any type of sport.'
'Something I'm hoping to change once she sees me race in Melbourne next weekend.'
Miller felt like an extra in a bad theatre production, and wondered why they were talking over her head as if she was some sort of possession.
'Ah, the race of the decade.' Dexter's remark was as subtle as a cattle prod.
Again, Miller had no idea what he was talking about and snuck a glance up at Valentino-to find his easy smile still in place.
'So they say.'
She could feel the tension coming off him in waves, and knew he wasn't as relaxed as he wanted them to believe. She couldn't blame him. It couldn't be easy, having Dexter grill him this way.
'You'll have to wear earplugs, Miller. It gets loud at the track,' Dexter said, valiantly trying to regain a foothold in the conversation.
'I'll take care of Miller,' Valentino drawled. 'And you'd do well not to believe everything you read on the internet, Caruthers. My private life is exactly that. Private.'
There was no mistaking the warning behind his words and Miller stared up at Valentino, slightly shocked at the ruthless edge in his tone. Gone was the dishevelled rogue who had baited her so mercilessly in the car on the drive down, and in his place was a lean, dangerous male you'd have to be stupid to take on.
And what was Dexter doing, talking about her as if they had a more personal relationship than they did?
Miller was about to take him aside and ask him but TJ chose that moment to intrude.
'There's the guest of honour!' he announced, his eyes fixed on Valentino.
Guest of honour? Since when?
Miller was starting to feel like Alice down the rabbit hole, but at least she could tell that TJ had backed off in his openly male interest in her; his awe of Valentino clearly overrode his lustful advances.
Almost ignoring her completely, TJ launched into a spiel about his newest car on order and Miller was glad of the reprieve.
Eyes gritty with tiredness, she wished herself a hundred miles away from this scene.
Then she noticed the men looking at her and realised she'd been unwittingly drawn into a conversation she hadn't been following. Turning blindly to Valentino for assistance, she immediately became lost in his heated gaze.
Her breath stalled and she had to remind herself that this was just pretend. But, wow, the man could go into acting when his racing career ended and win a truckload of awards.
Hearing her phone blast Ruby's unique ringtone in her evening purse, Miller latched onto the excuse like a lifeline, not quite meeting Valentino's eyes as she slipped away from the group.
Heading straight for the softly lit Japanese garden she'd glimpsed from the dinner table, she let the subtle scent of gardenias and some other richly perfumed flower wash over her as she walked.
* * *
Tino watched Miller wander down the steps and along a rocky pathway towards the infinity pool that glowed as cobalt-blue as her eyes.
Dexter laughed at something TJ had said and Tino glanced back to find that his eyes were also on Miller. As they had been most of the night. Even a blind man could tell that they had history together. And the way her boss had tried to stamp his ownership all over her had Tino wondering if Miller hadn't needed an escort this weekend for more than just a deterrent for her avaricious client. Perhaps she needed cover for an office affair as well.
He was sure he'd heard talk about Dexter being married, and as a third generation Italian from a solid family background if there was one thing Tino didn't condone it was extramarital affairs.
His brows drew together as he considered the possibility that Miller and Dexter were lovers, and he didn't like the feeling that settled in his gut.
Was that why she flinched every time he got within spitting distance of her? She didn't want her "real" boyfriend to get jealous? If so, she'd soon learn that he wouldn't play that particular game. Not for another second.
Tossing back the last of his red wine, Tino placed the glass on a nearby table before heading down the steps to the garden.
Obviously hearing his quiet footfalls on the loose pebbles, Miller turned, her face half in shadow under the warm light given off by the raised lanterns that edged the narrow path.
Tino stopped just inside the wide perimeter he'd come to recognise as her personal space and her eyes turned wary. As well they might.
'I came down here to be alone,' she said, her dainty chin sticking out at him.
Tino widened his stance. 'Are you having an affair with Caruthers?'
'What?'
She seemed genuinely appalled by the question, but she needed to know this was a boundary he wouldn't cross. 'Because if you are this little ruse is over.'
Her gorgeous eyes narrowed at his blunt comment.
'Of course I'm not having an affair with Dexter. But even if I was it would be none of your business.'
'Wrong, Sunshine. You made it my business this weekend.'
Miller shook her head. 'That's rubbish. You were the one who offered to come, and I can tell you I'm not very happy with the job you're doing so far.'
Tino felt a surge of annoyance that was as much because of his attraction to her as because of her snotty attitude. 'Want to explain that?'
She leaned in towards him and he got a whiff of her sexy scent. Unconsciously, he breathed deep. 'You agreed that you would follow my lead, but despite your silver-tongued sophistication you've failed to pick up on any of my signals.'
'Silver-ton...? Sunshine, you are deluded.'
'Excuse me?'
She mirrored his incredulous tone and Valentino didn't know whether to put her over his knee or just kiss her. The woman was driving him crazy. Or her scent was. He'd never smelt anything so subtly feminine before, and on a woman who seemed determined to hide her femininity it didn't bear thinking about. Like his unusually possessive exchange with her deadbeat boss inside.
'I never promised to follow your lead. That was an assumption you made before you so imperiously waltzed out the door. And if there's nothing going on between you and Caruthers, why is he behaving like a jealous boyfriend?'
'Why are you?'
'Because it's my job. Apparently. Now, answer the question.'
Her gaze turned wary again. 'I don't know what's up with Dexter except that he doesn't believe you and I are a couple.'
Tino rocked back on his heels and regarded her. 'I'm not surprised.'
She flashed him an annoyed look. 'And why is that? Because I'm not your usual type?'
Since when was a ballbreaker any man's usual type?
'Because you act like a startled mouse every time I touch you.'
'I do not,' she blustered. 'But if I do it's because I don't want you touching me.'
'I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to touch you.'
'Not at a business function.' She frowned.
He felt completely exasperated with her. 'Anywhere.' His voice had dropped an octave because he realised just how much he had enjoyed touching her all night. How much he wanted to touch her now.
Incredible.
'That's not me,' she said on a rush.
Her tongue snaked out to moisten her heart-shaped mouth; that succulent bottom lip was now glistening invitingly.
Valentino thrust his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and locked his eyes with hers. 'If you want people to believe we're a couple you're going to have to let me take the lead, because you clearly know diddly squat about relationships.'
She looked at him as if he'd just told her the world was about to end. 'Now who's making assumptions? For your information, if we were in a real relationship something else you would know is that I'm not the demonstrative type.'
She had thrust her chin out in that annoyingly superior way again, and Valentino couldn't resist loading her up. 'Well, that's too bad, Miller, because if we were a real couple you'd know that I am.'
Which wasn't strictly true. Yes, he liked to touch, but he didn't usually feel the need to grab hold of his dates and stamp his possession all over them in public-or in private come to that. The only reason he had with Miller was because she had avoided eye contact with him most of the evening, and with all the interest in their relationship he'd had to do something to make it appear genuine.
In fact she should be thanking him for taking his role so seriously instead of busting his balls over it.