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?”
THEY left the party soon after and returned to Renzo’s apartment. Renzo did not speak during the short car ride, and Faith didn’t quite know what to say. She wanted to defend herself, to say that she hadn’t told Niccolo Gavretti anything, but she couldn’t speak. Every time the words formed on her tongue, they wouldn’t come out.
Because
