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‘Don’t walk away. Please.’
Her quiet voice set off a riot of emotions, and right up there with wanting to physically take her—to physically brand her—was the urge to hold her and keep her safe. For ever. And that was the moment he realised he was shaking.
With the kind of lethal precision that was used to construct one of his beloved racing cars Tino shut down everything inside him.
‘I have to get to the track. I’ve wasted enough time here.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘MA’S finally got her wish, I see.’
Valentino turned at the sound of his older brother’s voice and kept his irritation in check. He’d been enjoying a moment’s quiet after being inundated with well-wishers and pseudo-virgins at his mother’s charity extravaganza all night, but fortunately now the guests seemed to have settled—chatting, dancing and enjoying the view from one of Dante’s premier hotels.
‘What’s that?’ he asked, feigning interest.
‘One of her sons has found love at her famous event.’ Dante glanced towards the dance floor where Miller was dancing.
Tino glowered at him. ‘I’m not even going to pretend I don’t know what you’re getting at.’
‘That’s good. We can cut straight to what you’re intending to do about it instead. Should I be shining my shoes?’
‘Not unless you’re planning to go back to school,’ Tino said lightly. ‘I’m not in love with Miller,’ he added dismissively. ‘In case that was your next inopportune comment.’
He’d rather Dante harangue him about the big race tomorrow than a woman who was already constantly on his mind. He glanced at the dance floor where Miller was teaching his twelve-year-old nephew to waltz, and his body throbbed at the pleasurable memory of their lovemaking an hour earlier when he had returned to their penthouse suite.
Not that he’d meant it to be lovemaking. What he’d meant it to be was rough and raw sex to put them squarely back on the footing they’d started out on.
He’d spent six stressful hours at the track, secured second off the grid for tomorrow’s race, and endured a gruelling press conference that had focused as much on his new “girlfriend” as it had on tomorrow’s race.
All day he’d ignored his over-reaction to Miller’s near accident, and the effort it had taken to keep his emotions under lock and key and be able to perform on the track had worn thin.
When he’d returned to the room and found Miller standing beside the bed in a demi-cup bra and matching thong he hadn’t even bothered to say hello.
He frowned, memory turning him hard as a rock.
No, he hadn’t said hello. She’d glanced up, half startled to see him as he’d prowled silently into the bedroom, and then she’d been against the wall and he’d been between her legs before he’d even thought about it.
He’d barely leashed his violent need for her, and yet once again she’d been right there with him. And, just as she had a tendency to do, she’d managed to twist the final few minutes of their coupling so that he was no longer the one in control. This time she’d insisted that he look at her with just the whisper of his name, and they’d flown over the edge together in an endless rush of pleasure.
Her sweet mouth still looked a little bruised, and as for the dress she had on... He took back his declaration that Mickey knew nothing about women’s fashion. The chocolate-brown silk and froth creation clung to every curve and set off her eyes and skin to perfection. He’d never actually seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and his latent fear of tomorrow’s race paled in comparison to the feelings she raised in him.
She was in his head—hell, she had been in the car with him at the track that afternoon, and that couldn’t happen.
‘You haven’t taken your eyes off her all night and you’ve barely gone near her,’ Dante drawled.
Tino tipped the contents of his glass of iced water down his parched throat. ‘That’s your definition of love?’ he mocked, forcing his tone to reflect bored nonchalance. ‘No wonder you struggle to keep a woman.’
Dante laughed softly. ‘That’s my definition of a man who’s still running.’
‘Let me repeat,’ Tino bit out. ‘I am not in love with Miller Jacobs.’
‘What’s the problem with it?’ Dante was watching Miller now, his eyes alight with admiration. ‘It was bound to happen some day. You’re a lover, Tino, not a fighter. And she is stunning.’
