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‘Likewise.’ Katrina leant in close. ‘Don’t let his scowl put you off. He’s harmless underneath.’
Oh, she was so wrong about that, Miller thought miserably. Valentino had the power to hurt her like no one else ever had, and she was really peeved she had given him that power over her. Because it was her own stupid fault. He’d been honest right from the start.
Halfway across the room, Miller tugged on his arm. ‘I might stay on a bit longer, if that’s okay?’
God, when had she been reduced to sounding like a Nervous Nelly?
‘Why?’
Because I don’t want to go upstairs with you in this mood and have you rip my heart to pieces.
‘I’m having a good time.’
‘I don’t want you talking to my family about me or my father.’
His voice was cold and she now wondered if he really was leaving because he needed to get sleep and prepare for the race tomorrow, or because he assumed she’d keep trying to wheedle secrets out of his family about him.
‘I didn’t ask Katrina anything,’ she denied. ‘She assumed that you had feelings for me. We both know you don’t and I told her this whole thing was fake.’
Valentino grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the side of the room to let a couple pass by.
‘Why would you say that?’
Miller forced herself not to be intimidated by his frown. ‘Because I don’t like being dishonest and I like your family.’
‘This thing stopped being fake the minute we had sex and you know it,’ he growled.
Miller’s hopeful heart skipped a beat. Did he mean that? Could his black mood be because he had strong feelings for her and just didn’t know how to express them?
‘What is it, then?’ She knew she was holding her breath but she couldn’t help it.
He raked back his hair in frustration and glowered at the glittering crowd of doyennes behind her. ‘I don’t know. Good fun?’
Good fun?
Stupid, desperate heart.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I’ve had a terrible day and I don’t want you talking about my father. The man died racing a car. Everyone needs to get over it and move on.’
‘Like you have?’
His scowl at her quietly voiced question didn’t bear thinking about. ‘Don’t psychoanalyse me, Miller. You don’t know me.’
‘Only because you hide your deepest feelings under solid cement.’
She thought he would try and make light of her comment. When he didn’t she realised how stressed he really was. She also realised that her breathing had grown harsh, and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with him the night before a crucial race.
‘Valentino, your sister didn’t mean any harm. She was boosting me up because she thinks that you protect yourself against being hurt.’ A conclusion she had also drawn after talking to him that day in the park.
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Is it?’ Miller asked softly, her heart going out to this wounded, gorgeous man. ‘Or is it that you believe that your father didn’t love you enough to quit racing? Because I know that tomorrow’s race has been playing on your mind, and I’ve seen enough to guess that maybe you’re a little angry with him.’
A flash of insight hit her as she recalled how stiff he had been in his mother’s company—a woman she knew he loved dearly.
‘Maybe even with your mother—although I’m not sure why that would be.’
‘Don’t confuse your mother issues with mine, Miller,’ he snarled.
Miller gasped. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say. My mother did her best and while you’ve helped me see that I’ve blindly followed her dreams instead of my own that wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I didn’t have to give up my artistic aspirations. I chose to because it suited me at the time.’ Miller felt as if he’d torn a strip off her and left her bleeding. ‘Now, I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome, so if you’ll ex—’
‘Don’t leave.’
Miller’s stomach was in knots and she was shaking. She had to leave before her runaway mouth said anything more she might regret. ‘I’m tired.’
‘I don’t mean right now. I mean tomorrow. Quit your job and travel with me. Come to Monaco next week.’
Miller stared at him. The tinkling chatter of happy guests faded to a low hum. He didn’t look completely comfortable, but was he serious?
‘Why?’ she blurted out.
