“Well, then, why were you and Dario talking about it?”
“Because you took me home, and I was drunk. So, he was concerned. That’s all.”
“This wouldn’t even be an issue if I were a man.”
Rocco laughed. “No, it wouldn’t. I’m not interested in men.”
“It’s not just that. I’m”—she placed one finger on her chin, tilted her head, and raised her eyes to the stars as though she were thinking hard—“odd.” She turned back to him, snapping her fingers. “That’s it! Odd!”
Without giving it much thought, he shrugged. “That’s true. You are.”
Her eyes sprung open wide. Maybe they’d grown even darker. Although he couldn’t see how that was possible.
“I mean that in a good way.”
“Odd? In a good way?” she sneered.
“Yes. As in. Unique. Different. Hell, you have a pet rat. Not to mention the fact you’re one of only five women to have ever driven Formula 1. And in terms of the racing you’re doing, actually more like one ofthree—you, Maria Teresa de Filippis, and Lella Lombardi. In fact, now that I think of it, you’re probably really only comparable to Lella.”
She didn’t say anything and turned her gaze to the lake. But he could feel her anger coming down. It felt as though she’d lowered her sword.
Why had she used that word,odd? She must have overheard him talking with Dario.
He drew a quick but deep breath.
“Look, cut Dario some slack. I mean, it’s not that difficult to understand why he might go there. Why he might have some concern. I mean, about me, making a move.”
She turned her attention back to him. She was staring at him as though he were speaking a foreign language.
She couldn’t be that clueless. Could she?
He sighed. “You possess certain characteristics that might, you know.”
“That might what?”
“That might. Interest. A man. In that way.”
“Oh really.”
“I said might; I didn’t say they did. And anyway, even if they did, I wouldn’t—and you wouldn’t. It would be stupid. To. Do. That.”
“Right. Stupid. You’re right, of course I would.” She paused. “I mean, I wouldn’t.”
“You would or you wouldn’t?” he heard himself asking as though it were someone else speaking.
Nico glared at him. “I suppose you’re accustomed to women just falling at your feet. I hope you make certain to catch them before they fall completely.”
He chuckled. “They do. And I do.”
The French doors opened, and the sound of laughter floated out onto the terrace as a couple of people stepped out and walked over to the other side of the balcony.
He looked at his watch. “I have to get going,” he muttered. “Carnival.”
Should he? Probably not. But he found himself wanting to. “You want to come?”
She didn’t respond.
He grinned. “Sofia and Beatrice will be there.”
