want to talk anymore—because he didn’t think he could talk anymore—he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.
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
