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Living the Charade
Living the Charade
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Living the Charade

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‘You really have the most extraordinary eyes,’ he found himself saying appreciatively. ‘A little glacial right now, but extraordinary nonetheless.’

‘I don’t care what you think of my eyes. This isn’t real so I don’t need your empty compliments.’

How about the back of my hand across your tidy tush? The thought brought a low hum of pleasure winging through his body. He did his best to ignore it. ‘Are you usually this rude or do I just bring out the best in you?’

Her shoulders slumped and she stepped back to put more space between them. ‘I’m sorry. I’m…uncomfortable. This weekend is important to me. I wish I’d just given you chicken pox and handled everything myself. I let Ruby convince me this would be a good idea.’

Tino felt contrite at her obvious distress. ‘Everything will be fine. Just think of us as two people going away for a weekend to have some fun. You’ve done that in the past, surely.’

‘Of course,’ she said, her reply a little too quick and a little too defensive. ‘It’s just that I would never choose to come away for a weekend with a man like you.’

He stiffened even though he knew by her tone that she was being honest rather than deliberately insulting, but, hell, he had his limits. ‘What exactly is it about me that you don’t like, Sunshine?’ he queried, as if her answer didn’t matter. Which, in the scheme of things, it didn’t.

Her lips pursed at the mocking moniker, but he didn’t care.

‘We really need to go down.’

Tino crossed his arms. ‘I’m waiting.’

‘Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. But I’m hardly your type either.’

‘You’re female, aren’t you?’ He couldn’t help the comment. The desire to get under her skin was riding him.

‘That’s all it takes?’

Her incredulous tone drew a tight smile to his lips. ‘What else is there?’

She shook her head. ‘See, that’s why you’re not my type. I like someone a little more discerning, a little more…’ She stopped as if she’d realised she was about to insult him.

‘Don’t stop now. It’s just getting interesting.’

‘Okay—fine. You’re arrogant, condescending, and you treat everything like it’s a joke.’

Tino deliberately kept his chuckle light. ‘For a minute there I thought you were going to list my faults.’

She threw up her hands and stalked away from him. ‘You’re impossible to talk to!’

‘True, but I make up for it where it counts.’

Her sexy mouth flattened and he just managed not to laugh. ‘Sunshine, you are so easy to rile.’

She huffed out a breath and eyed him with utter disdain. ‘Please remember that we are playing by my rules this weekend, not yours. When we’re in company just…’ She smoothed her brows. ‘Just follow my lead.’

She pinned a frozen smile on her face and sailed through the door, leaving a faint trace of summertime in her wake.

Tino breathed deep. He didn’t understand how a woman so intent on behaving like a man could smell so sweet. Then he wondered if she had sex like a man as well: enjoyed herself and moved on easily.

The unexpected thought made him snort as he followed her down the hall.

He might not know the answer to that, but he was damn sure they were bound to have another argument when she learned he played by no one else’s rules but his own.

And as for following her lead…

CHAPTER FOUR

‘SO, HOW did you two meet?’

Miller swallowed the piece of succulent fish she’d been chewing for five minutes on a rush and felt it stick in her throat. It was the question of the night, it seemed, as TJ’s guests tried to work out how an uptight management consultant could possibly ensnare the infamous Tino Ventura.

She grabbed her water glass and stiffened as she felt Valentino’s strong fingers grip the back of her chair. He’d done that constantly throughout the meal, sometimes playing with the beads on her top, and she’d felt the heat of his touch sear through her clothing and all the way into her bones. The man was like a furnace.

Fortunately he took control of the conversation, having already warned her to say very little, but she could see he was as tired of the interest as she was.

Tuning out, she wondered if she shouldn’t stage a massive fight right here and end the charade before they slipped up. Or before she slipped up—because he seemed to be doing just fine. And maybe she would feel better if Dexter didn’t keep throwing her curious glances that told her in more than words that he didn’t buy the whole international-racing-driver-boyfriend thing one bit.

When they had arrived for dinner the men had immediately enclosed Valentino in a circle as if he were an old friend, and the women had raked their eyes appreciatively over his muscular frame. Most of them had looked at him as if they wouldn’t say no to being another notch on his well-scarred bedpost. Something that didn’t interest Miller in the slightest.

Oh, she found him just as sexy as they did, but she had a ten-year plan that she had nearly accomplished, and she wasn’t about to get involved with a man and let him distract her. Especially a man who treated women like sex bunnies.

Pushing back her chair, Miller politely extricated herself to the powder room. After locking the bathroom door she leant against it, closed her eyes and felt her heartbeat start to normalise now that she was out from under Valentino’s mesmeric spell.

It didn’t help that he kept touching her, and she really needed to talk to him about his ability to follow her lead. He hadn’t taken any of her subtle hints all night. And every time he touched her—whether it was a fleeting brush of his fingers across the back of her hand at the dinner table or a more encompassing arm around her waist while sipping champagne—it made her feel as if she’d been branded.

When she had envisaged having a fake boyfriend she’d imagined someone dutifully trailing in her wake and playing a low-key, almost invisible role. But there was nothing invisible about Valentino Ventura, and it annoyed her that her own eyes were constantly drawn to him, as if he really was some god who had deigned to grace them with his presence.

Deciding she couldn’t hide out in the powder room any longer, Miller exited to find Dexter lounging against the opposite wall, waiting for her.

She didn’t want to think about Ruby’s suspicions that Dexter was interested in her as more than just a work colleague, but there was no doubt he was behaving differently towards her all of a sudden.

‘So…’ Dexter drawled, a beer bottle swinging back and forth between his fingers. ‘Tino Ventura?’

Miller smiled enigmatically in answer.

‘You do know he’s got a reputation for being the biggest playboy in Europe?’

She knew he had a reputation—but the biggest playboy? ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read,’ she said, though by the way he’d charmed everyone at dinner she could well believe it. Women were always falling for bad boy types they hoped to reform, and even clean-shaven he looked like a fallen angel.


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