Robyn Donald - A Secret Worth Keeping? - Living the Charade / Her Shameful Secret / Island of Secrets

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.

‘I don’t see it, you know,’ Dexter added snidely.

Miller narrowed her eyes. He might be her direct superior, but he wasn’t behaving like it right now. ‘My personal life is none of your business, Dexter. Was there something you wanted?’

‘Your part of the presentation we’re supposed to give to TJ tomorrow.’

‘I e-mailed it just before I left to come down here.’

‘Cutting it a bit fine?’

About to ask him what his problem was, she nearly screamed when she felt a warm male hand settle on the small of her back. She tried to quell the instant leap of her heart but it was already galloping away at a mile a minute.

She knew her reaction hadn’t done anything to alleviate Dexter’s scepticism about her relationship, but frankly this internal sense of excitement when Valentino came close was too unfamiliar and disconcerting to deal with head-on. She would have given anything to do what she’d done as a child in uncomfortable situations: run away to her room and lose herself in her drawings.

‘Hey, Sunshine, I wondered where you’d got to.’ Valentino’s warm breath stirred the hair at her temple, and his gaze lingered on her mouth before lifting to hers.

He was terribly good at this, Miller thought, swallowing heavily. It was just a pity that she wasn’t.

‘Just discussing work. Nothing important,’ she said breathlessly.

‘In that case, you won’t mind if I join you?’

‘Of course not.’ She smiled at Dexter, as if her world couldn’t be more perfect. Anything was better than gazing up into Valentino’s sleepy grey gaze.

‘So, by my reckoning,’ Dexter said, looking from one to the other, ‘you will have met around the time of Tino’s near fatality earlier in the year. In Germany. Funny, I don’t recall okaying any trip to Europe in—what?—August, was it? In fact, I can’t recall your last holiday at all, Miller.’

Near fatality?

Miller’s eyes flew to Valentino’s calm face and too late she realised she would of course know about this if they really were going out. Collecting herself, she attempted fascination with the conversation.

‘Miller wasn’t on holiday when we met,’ Valentino answered smoothly. ‘It was while I was recuperating in Australia.’

Dexter frowned theatrically. ‘I thought you convalesced in Paris? Your second home town?’

‘Monaco is my second home town.’

Miller noticed he hadn’t directly answered Dexter’s question. Clever.

‘So, what do you make of your run of bad luck since your recovery?’

‘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.