Читать книгу Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 92

CHAPTER TWELVE

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FAITH looked up from her computer, her heart doing that funny little flip thing it always did as the door to Renzo’s office opened. They were spending days at the factory now while he went over the details for the Viper and for the next production launch. The launch was timed to coincide with the Viper’s debut on the Grand Prix circuit, and everyone was working long hours to make it happen smoothly.

She’d never been so happy and so miserable at the same time. She was happy because she enjoyed being Renzo’s lover, and miserable because she felt as if she’d done everything wrong. The other office staff kept their distance. She knew why. It wasn’t a language barrier, as everyone spoke English, but more of a perception barrier. She was the boss’s girlfriend, and everyone knew it.

It was, in some respects, a nightmare. She felt their censure, and it felt far too much like the censure she’d gotten at home when the photo of her began to circulate. People were distant, judgmental. They whispered behind her back.

She hated the way it made her feel. As if she were different. Damaged.

It had been inevitable, she supposed. The pictures of the two of them had finally appeared in the paper after the night in Florence when they’d been photographed together at the restaurant. Those photos were innocuous, but when you added in the photo of the kiss at the party, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Her heart had beat so hard when she’d seen that picture that she’d thought she would pass out. Renzo had hugged her to him and told her not to worry. So far, he’d been right. There’d been nothing about her real name or the photograph that had caused her so much pain.

Still, she feared the feelings it would dredge up once the photo was public knowledge again. She’d thought she could handle it, but now, with the office staff treating her like she was a leper, she wasn’t quite so confident.

She smiled as Renzo approached. He was as mind-numbingly delicious as always as he came over to her desk, clad in a custom suit and loafers, his dark hair curling over his collar. His blue eyes were sharp, but she could see the strain in them. He’d been pushing himself relentlessly, riding the Viper, working on the details for the launch—and making love to her at night in his bed.

A tendril of heat coiled in her belly and her body responded with a surge. Those nights were the hottest, most incredible she’d ever known. Renzo had taught her things she’d have blushed at only a few weeks ago, but things that she now did hungrily, greedily, as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

Which, she acknowledged, she couldn’t.

But she wanted more than just the physical from him. She wanted his heart, his trust. She’d thought perhaps she was starting to get those things that night in Florence when he’d told her who his father was, but they’d not spoken of it since. They’d spoken of nothing so deeply emotional again. It was as if he regretted letting her see inside his life.

“Did that fax from Robert Stein arrive?” he asked.

“It just came through,” she replied, handing him the papers she’d taken from the machine only a moment before he’d opened the door.

He took it, frowning as he looked it over, and her heart squeezed tight with all the emotions she had to keep bottled inside. She felt hot and achy and needy every time she looked at him.

But it was more than that.

Whenever he touched her, whenever he played with Lola, everything inside her hurt. In a good way. She knew what it was, even if she’d never felt quite this way before. She was in love with him, but she didn’t dare tell him.

He’d shown absolutely no signs of returning her feelings, and she wasn’t about to commit the mistake that she was certain other women had committed in the past.

And yet it made her angry, too. Why couldn’t she be herself? Why couldn’t she speak up and tell him how she felt? Why was she afraid to do so? If he threw her out, then at least she would know where she stood, wouldn’t she? Why waste time loving someone who didn’t love you back?

There was another side to her despair, as well. Every time Renzo went onto the track, she could hardly breathe. He’d been training hard, riding the Viper and icing his leg at night. She’d tried to convince him to see a doctor, to hire a masseuse, but he was stubborn and wouldn’t do it.

So she massaged his leg, praying that it was enough, that today would not be the day his leg would cramp up at two hundred miles an hour. She could stand it when he was alone on the track—but when he entered the circuit, and there were other screaming motorcycles all around him?

How could he stop if something happened? How could he possibly get out of the way in time?

He looked up then and caught her watching him. The answering heat in his eyes sent a surge of relief rushing through her. For now, at least, he was hers.

He glanced toward the open hallway that led to his suite of offices. No one was in sight, so he bent and fitted his lips to hers. She knew she should push him away, but she couldn’t do it. It had been hours since she’d kissed him.

He smelled delicious, and so very sinful. She wanted to strip away his clothes and lick her way down his body. And then she wanted to take him in her mouth and feel the power she had over him as he gasped and groaned his pleasure.

“Come into the office with me,” he said. “We’ll lock the door and—”

She put a hand over his mouth to silence him. “You know I can’t do that. Your people already dislike me enough. Especially that secretary you shuffled to another office.”

He darted his tongue out to lick her palm, then straightened again. “No one dislikes you, cara mia. And it was time for Signora Leoni to go. She never kept my appointments straight. But if you feel people don’t like you, you can work from home.”

Home. It was his home, not hers, but she loved it anyway. She was happy there, and not because it was beautiful and far more lush than she was accustomed to in her life, but because Renzo was there. And Lola, her sweet little kitten who was growing in leaps and bounds. Lola owned the place now. Even stodgy Fabrizio couldn’t resist her kitten antics.

Faith lowered her lashes. “I think you underestimate the benevolence of your staff, Renzo. They dislike me because they know we’re together. But I won’t leave. I’ll be fine working here.”

His hand ghosted over her hair. “You never give up, do you, Faith?”

She met his curious gaze. “I believe in working hard to get what I want. And I’m not going to let what anyone else thinks stop me.”

He bent and kissed her swiftly. “This is why I like you so much,” he said. “We are exactly alike, cara.”

Like? Her mind focused on that one word and wouldn’t let it go. Like. He liked her. After everything they’d shared, he liked her.

It stung. She turned back to her computer, angry that sudden tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Well, honestly, what had she expected? She’d known she shouldn’t get involved with him, but she’d gone down that road with very little hesitation when it came right to it.

“Have I said something?” he asked from behind her.

She shook her head. “Of course not. But I have a lot of correspondence to get through before the day is over. And you have a conference call in half an hour.”

“Ah, si, I do.” He sounded tired, and she turned to look at him. He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair.

Worry pricked her. “You need to rest, Renzo. Nothing good will come of it if you keep burning the candle at both ends.”

Fatigue lines bracketed his mouth and eyes. “It is always this way before the season starts.”

“I can’t imagine it’s good for you when you need your strength.”

“There are a lot of things that aren’t good for me. But they must be done.”

“But your leg—”

“I’m fine, cara,” he snapped suddenly.

Faith gaped at him. It was as if she’d reached out to pet sweet little Lola and been bitten for her trouble. His expression was a mix of rage, bitterness and despair. She knew that he was tired, that he was worried, and that he was angry over the hand fate had dealt him.

But he would not share any of it with her. He would not tell her how he felt, or how scared he was. It hurt. After all she thought they’d shared together, he would not open up to her now. Instead, he lashed out, pushed her away.

She was no different to him than Katie Palmer. And that made her angry.

“I think we both know better,” she said, her heart throbbing. “You might deny it to everyone else, but you aren’t denying it to me.”

His jaw worked, his eyes flashing with a different kind of heat than they had a moment ago. “Type your letters, Faith,” he said. And then he turned and walked back into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him. Shutting her out.

Renzo went back to his desk and collapsed in the chair. He felt like an ass for snapping at Faith. But he’d been feeling edgier than ever lately. He was tired, and his leg throbbed almost nonstop these days. The pain was bearable, but only just.

Yet he knew if he told her the truth, she’d beg him not to ride the Viper. And he simply did not want to have that conversation with her.

With anyone.

Since the night a little over a week ago when they’d stumbled onto the via opposite the Villa de Lucano, he’d been more determined than ever to make the Viper a success. And the only way that was happening was if he kept the reins for a little while longer. His team was good, but a victory didn’t mean as much to them as it did to him.

He’d thought about pulling out. He really had. But the media expected him to ride. His investors expected him to do so, as well. The whole world was waiting for Renzo D’Angeli, the Iron Prince, to zoom onto the track and claim the ultimate victory for the tenth time. It would be a great feat, and everyone was watching.

Some were hoping he would fail. Niccolo Gavretti, of course. And quite possibly his father. They had never spoken, but Renzo knew his father followed the sport. He’d even seen the conte in the paddock once before. Backing Gavretti, naturally. The De Lucanos and the Gavrettis were old friends, blue bloods who stuck together in business and in life.

Renzo tossed down the papers that he’d been trying to concentrate on and leaned back in his chair, propping his leg on a low table that he’d pulled over for the purpose.

Dio. He rubbed the knotted muscles hard, hoping to ease the pain. He thought of calling Faith, but she was angry with him. Besides, he didn’t want to admit that she’d been right. He couldn’t admit it.

He slipped open a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers. He shook two pills into his hand—and then shook out two more. He had to remain focused on the goal. Everything else was secondary.

He took the pills, and then picked up the phone and punched in a number. When a familiar voice answered on the third ring, he knew he was doing the right thing. For her, he would win again. For her, he would rub victory in the conte’s face once more.

“Renzo,” his mother said. “Ciao, darling!”

They were at the factory late. Renzo rode the Viper again, zooming around the track at speeds Faith was certain were somehow faster than he’d ever ridden before. When he dismounted, there was no hitch in his gate, no weakness that she could detect. He’d had a great few days, though she knew it was only a matter of time before the pain got to be too much for him.

He kept a bottle of painkillers on the nightstand, rationing them out as if they were the last, most precious pills on earth. She admired his strength of will even while she cursed his stubbornness. If he would take them more regularly, or see a doctor, perhaps something could be done. Something that would ensure his safety on the track.

After he showered and dressed, they drove into Florence where they went to his apartment and changed for the evening. There was another party tonight, another gathering of investors and people who followed the MotoGP circuit. The season would start soon and all the teams would be heading to Qatar for the first race.

Eighteen races in thirteen countries. It was a grueling circuit, with two or three races each month, plus all the travel that was required to move from country to country. The logistics of it were a nightmare. Now that she knew what Renzo actually did, it was no wonder she’d worked at D’Angeli’s New York factory for months before she’d ever seen him in person.

She loved being here with him, but she almost wished she’d remained in the financial office of the company. If she had, she wouldn’t be so desperately in love with him now. She wouldn’t be here, praying that every time he took that beast of a motorcycle on the track, he’d make it out alive.

Faith looked at the dress she’d selected for tonight and felt her heart thump hard. It was more daring than anything she’d yet worn. Black, made of clingy jersey, and figure hugging from the strapless bosom to her ankles. There was a slit up one side that went as high as midthigh.

She finished her hair and slipped into the dress, then slid her feet into glittery peep-toe platforms. She studied her appearance in the mirror, pleased with the elegant sensuality portrayed before her. Yes, it was a long way from the preacher’s daughter to this, but she was comfortable, confident in the way she looked.

When she joined Renzo in the foyer, his gaze glided over her approvingly. But then his expression clouded.

“I’m not sure I want you going out like that, cara.” He kissed her on the cheek and she inhaled his clean, fresh scent, closing her eyes for a brief second as she did so. “You look … too sexy for your own good.”

Faith reached for her wrap, her pulse thrumming. “Nevertheless, it’s what I’m wearing. I brought nothing else with me.”

She hadn’t forgotten that he’d dismissed her earlier, though it seemed as if he had. She thought for a minute he might pull her close and kiss her properly, but she was glad he did not. She couldn’t quite bear it right now, when she was fighting with herself over what she meant to his life.

They arrived at the party, held at one of Florence’s museums, fashionably late. Reporters and photographers were stationed outside the exclusive location, snapping pics and shouting questions to everyone who arrived. Faith hesitated before exiting the car. Renzo squeezed her hand, and she found the strength to join him on the red carpet. She always felt as if she didn’t belong, and yet while he held on to her, she could do anything.

Faith pasted a smile on her face as they moved down the line. Renzo stopped every so often, smiling for the cameras as he anchored her to his side like a pretty ornament.

Finally, they passed inside. The host and hostess greeted them, fawning over Renzo before he extracted himself from their grip. The next guest came in, and the routine started all over again.

Faith accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter passing by with a tray. Between the paparazzi just now and Renzo’s reaction to her concerns earlier, her nerves were frayed tonight. She sipped the liquid, hoping it would at least take the edge off.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Renzo had shut down when she’d mentioned his leg. It bothered her a great deal that he would cut her from the important parts of his life, that he would refuse to discuss something so elemental as his fitness to do the job he intended to do. Was she just supposed to accept his edict and hope for the best?

Yes, clearly, she was. Faith tried not to frown as they moved through the gathering. Renzo introduced her to so many people she would never remember them all. She noted that while he did not say she was his PA, he also did not say she was his girlfriend. He introduced her simply as Faith.

It was a silly thing to focus on, but it was yet one more piece of evidence piled onto all the rest that had her wondering about her place in his life. Was this how it began for the other women he’d been with? Did they all start searching for signs that they meant more to him than just a warm body in his bed?

You knew, she told herself. You knew what this was, and you did it anyway.

She didn’t say much, but then she wasn’t expected to. Renzo stayed by her side for the longest time, but then he got caught in a crowd of men who wanted to talk motorcycles and ended up drifting away from her. In a way, she was relieved. She wasn’t in the mood for a party, and it meant she could escape somewhere quiet for a few moments.

Faith glided through the rooms of the museum, studying the art, enjoying the rarity of having a gallery to herself while she was dressed up and sipping champagne. This certainly wasn’t the kind of life she’d led before becoming Renzo’s lover, and it would not be the kind she led after. If her old friends in Cottonwood could see her now, wouldn’t they be surprised?

“Abandoned, bella?”

Faith gasped at the voice as she spun to find Niccolo Gavretti watching her from the entrance. He looked sinful in his tuxedo and white shirt, but he did not move her. For a moment, she wished he did. How easy would it be if she could just cast off her current lover for a new one?

“I am not abandoned,” she said coolly. “Renzo is busy.”

“I noticed,” he said, his lips curving in a smile. “And he will only get busier once the season starts. There will be no time at all for lovely distractions when he is so focused on winning.”

Ice dripped down her spine as she gripped the glass hard and tried not to react. “I’m sure I’ll survive,” she said.

He smiled his cool predator’s smile. “I am sure you will, bella.”

He crossed the room to her side, tilted his head back to study the painting of a weeping Madonna. It was a beautiful picture, dark and lovely, with the most vibrant blues and golds that made Mary stand out from the rest of the scene.

“If you wish for a change, lovely Faith, I am certain we could have a good time together. I promise I would not leave you to amuse yourself while I caroused with my buddies.” His silvery eyes fixed on her and she shivered. There was nothing but coldness behind that gaze. Ruthlessness.

Another time, before she’d fallen in love with Renzo, she might have been flattered. But she knew Niccolo’s goal in approaching her now that she’d been caught between them once before. He only wanted to annoy Renzo. It had nothing at all to do with her.

And she wasn’t tempted anyway. Far from it.

“I don’t like change,” she said, her voice a touch sharp. “If you will excuse me.”

He laughed. “You have only to let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Her pulse raced as she brushed past him, but he didn’t try to stop her. She headed for the noise of the more-populated areas of the museum. As soon as she stepped out of the gallery, she ran into Renzo. Her heart thumped.

He was frowning. “I’ve been looking for you, cara mia.”

“And now you’ve found me,” she said brightly. Too brightly, because his gaze sharpened. Damn Niccolo Gavretti.

“What have you been doing all alone, Faith?”

“Looking at paintings,” she said. “They are really quite amazing.”

She heard footsteps behind her, and knew precisely who it was. Knew what Renzo would see and what he would think. And she suddenly didn’t feel like pretending anymore. She’d done nothing wrong, and if he couldn’t trust that she hadn’t, then she wanted to know it.

Ciao, Renzo.”

He stiffened. She could see his entire body go rigid, his eyes flashing fire. “Nico,” he replied, his voice cold in spite of the angry heat in his gaze.

“I’m looking forward to our match in Qatar.”

Renzo vibrated with anger. “I’m not sure why. The Viper is far better than anything you’ve designed lately—assuming you haven’t stolen anything that does not belong to you.”

Niccolo’s eyes flashed. “Still banging that drum, Renzo?”

“We both know the motorcycles are not your true passion. It’s simply another way to spend your father’s money and stay out of the way doing it, si? You could not design an original bike if your life depended upon it.”

Niccolo smiled, but it was a flat, lethal curving of the lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Arrogant as always, Renzo. I’ll enjoy watching you fail.”

Renzo’s jaw could have been carved from granite. “I won’t fail.”

“You might.” Niccolo strolled toward them, his hands thrust casually into his pockets. Then he stopped and let his gaze slide to Renzo’s thigh. “If your leg continues to give you trouble, who knows what will happen?”

Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections

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