Rush to the Altar. Rebecca Winters

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Rush to the Altar - Rebecca Winters Mills & Boon Cherish

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afraid ours is not a conventional marriage.” He got on his bike. “But I love it,” he added with enough emotion for Riley to know Nicco Tescotti was one happy man.

      “If we should get separated, ask anyone for directions to the Valentino Animal and Bird Preserve. The security guard at the gate will tell you where to go from there.”

      After closing his shield, he started up his bike. Riley chased after him in the rental car.

      He recognized a pro racer when he saw one.

      Though they might not be on the track, Nicco Tescotti rode with the kind of flawless precision and technique only a handful of the world’s top racers demonstrated.

      Riley tried to figure the odds of running into the new head of the Danelli company, let alone being invited to his home for a job interview. They had to be in the billion to one category.

      “Keep saying those prayers, Sister,” he whispered to the air as he stayed on the other man’s tail.

      Their journey followed the river back to the city. They’d been passing several miles of woods and verdant parkland when Nicco slowed down and signaled before making a right turn into a private driveway with a security guard at the gate.

      Riley did the same. The guard nodded him on through.

      Once past the thick hedge, he marveled at the cathedral-like atmosphere of trees and shrubbery as the path wound its way deeper and deeper into the greenery. But he didn’t know real surprise until he glimpsed a small Baroque palace beyond the dense foliage.

      Nicco came to a stop at the entrance to the west wing where several other cars were parked. He climbed off his motorcycle.

      Riley blinked. He lived here?

      As he got out of the rental car, two dogs came racing out to greet their master. One was a fawn-colored boxer with white feet who jumped up on Nicco’s leg. The other was a toy pug. It stayed at a distance and barked with ferocity until Nicco removed his helmet to reveal hair as black as Riley’s. Then the pug leaped toward him.

      Laughter rumbled out of Riley. Nicco’s chuckles joined his as he scratched the ears of both dogs. Riley moved closer.

      “This big boy here is Valentino. Put your hand out and he’ll give you five.”

      Riley got down on his haunches and did as Nicco suggested. The boxer was almost human the way he hit his paw against Riley’s hand. More laughter ensued from both men.

      The pug proceeded to run laps around Riley.

      “Chloe, on the other hand, is a complicated lady who hates my helmet and doesn’t trust strangers. Give her time and she might allow you to rub her head, but don’t hold your breath.”

      After she’d run out of steam, she sat there panting. Riley had made pets of several stray dogs in his youth. On impulse he put his hand on the ground and started walking it slowly toward the pug with his fingers.

      The dog made a strange cry in her throat, then got down on her belly and shimmied toward his hand. Riley kept it going until the pug’s flat nose came up against his fingers. She butted at him several times, then turned over on her back in invitation.

      Triumphant, Riley began rubbing her belly. He noticed she was missing a toe from each front paw.

      “The man with the velvet touch,” Nicco murmured in awe. “Chloe’s my wife’s dog. She should be out here to witness this.”

      “I just did, and still can’t believe it,” a female voice answered in a tone of wonder.

      Riley lifted his head, but he received the shock of his life when he found himself staring into the fabulous green eyes of the only woman in the world who’d ever turned him down flat for a date. Her rejection, delivered without the slightest hesitation, explanation or apology, had been a wound to his pride he’d never forgotten.

      Annabelle Lassiter as he lived and breathed!

      Less than a year ago she’d been the gorgeous American blonde on the set of the latest Cory Sieverts film, a big Hollywood box office hit. At the time there’d been no talk about her being married.

      What in the hell was going on?

      Nicco had said his wife was a veterinarian who loved motorcycles. They had a daughter Anna who was almost three months old. That meant she’d been pregnant when she’d cut Riley to the quick in front of the film crew.

      The unpleasant experience still had the power to twist his gut if he allowed himself to think about it.

      Had she become a vet before she’d ventured into acting?

      How and where had she met Nicco Tescotti of all people? A man with whom Riley already felt a rare camaraderie.

      Why were they living on this palatial estate?

      Reeling from a tumult of conflicting emotions, not to mention unanswered questions, he rose to his feet.

      “Riley Garrow? I’d like to introduce you to my wi—”

      “We’ve already met,” he broke in before the other man could finish.

      “We have?” Her expression looked totally puzzled as she clung to her husband.

      A wave of anger swept through him.

      She was pretending not to remember that incident at the studio, but he knew better. There’d been an attraction between them, a strong chemistry unlike anything he’d felt before. She’d felt it, too. It was something you couldn’t hide, but she hadn’t acted on her feelings.

      If it hadn’t been for the explosion on another set that had sent him to the hospital, he would have found a way to meet her again and break her down.

      At the time he’d assumed she’d reacted as she’d done because the force of her feelings had frightened her. If they’d been anything like his, he could understand. She’d shaken his world, too.

      If she was carrying Nicco’s child, then it explained why she was so damn scared. Why in the hell hadn’t she just come out and told him she was living with a man, or was secretly married?

      This was a day full of shocks, both good and bad. Right now her acting ability was in full evidence. She even spoke passable Italian. No doubt she was praying he would let go of his determination to force a confrontation.

      Out of deference to her husband, Riley decided to play along until the moment when he could get her alone to deliver a few home truths.

      “If you don’t recognize me, then I guess I’m mistaken. With that braid, you reminded me of someone I once met.”

      She hadn’t been wearing her hair in a braid on the set. It had been arranged long and loose, like one of those cascading waterfalls in Brazil that caught the sunlight, robbing him of breath.

      Nicco’s eyes held a mysterious gleam. “Could you possibly be thinking of the woman on the cover of International Motorcycle World?”

      At the question, something

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