And don’t ever walk off on me in the middle of a conversation again.’
Miller frowned. ‘If you’re referring to TJ and Janelle...?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I was hardly required.’
‘When it comes to relationships you have no idea what’s required.’
His words stung because they were true. Relationships scared her. But she was too tired to argue any more, so she shut up and let him guide her around the floor, focusing all her attention on the music and not on the way it felt to be held within the tight circle of his powerful arms. She reminded herself that she was a professional woman with goals and dreams that did not include this man in any shape or form. Reminded herself that her orgasm on the beach was a one-off and not to be repeated.
‘What are you thinking?’ His deep voice made her stumble and his hold tightened momentarily.
Miller’s eyes met his. She was thinking that despite everything she knew about herself, about life, she still wanted to have sex with him with a bone-deep need that defied explanation.
‘Miller?’
His husky command made her peek up at him from under her fringe. This wasn’t her. She didn’t peek. She looked. She organised. She...she was melting as her eyes drifted over his handsome face and her body brushed his.
Her heart beat much faster than it needed to and she wondered what type of man he really was. Why he lived the life he did. Why he had chosen to work in a profession that had taken his father’s life—something she was sure affected him more deeply than he let on.
‘How do you do what you do?’ she asked, latching onto her curiosity about his racing life to distract herself from the fact that she seriously wanted to throw caution to the winds and have sex with him. Just once. To see what it would be like to do it with a man who just had to touch her to make her burn hotter than the sun.
* * *
Tino’s hand tightened around Miller’s as they continued to sway to the music. He had no idea what she was on about. His one-track mind was heavily mired in defending himself against the onslaught of her slender curves, her light, mouth-watering scent.
After their talk in the park earlier, when he’d felt a strong desire to comfort her and slay all her demons, his self-preservation instincts had kicked in and warned him that this time he really needed to keep his distance.
Of course dancing with her wasn’t exactly conducive to that plan, but seeing Caruthers pawing her earlier had made him see red, and he knew he couldn’t just drag her off to a secluded location feeling the way he did. Dancing with her was the safer of the two options.
‘You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that,’ he said, telling himself to ignore the way she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms.
He was still a little shocked by the way he had nearly put his fist through Dexter’s arrogant face. He had forgotten that this thing with Miller was fake. Of course that had more to do with male pride than the delicate, sensual woman in his arms right now.
Yeah, and pigs might fly. You want her and there’s no shame in admitting it. Just don’t do anything about it.
Just when he was about to end the exquisite torture of dancing with her, she answered his question.
‘Race? Don’t you ever get scared?’
Ah, she’d been asking him about his job.
Okay, that he could talk about on a superficial level. ‘Motor racing is all about pushing yourself to the limit. There’s no room for fear.’
Her body swayed against his in time to an eighties love song; the room too warm with the crush of similarly entwined bodies dancing together.
‘But you push yourself beyond the limit, don’t you? Isn’t that why they call you an arrogant adrenalin junkie and a shock-jock? Maverick?’
‘Don’t believe everything you read about me, Miller. I’m happiest living on the edge, it’s true. But I don’t take stupid chances with my own life or anyone else’s. Fear is an emotion. Controllable like any other. And while I’m not crazy, sometimes...’ He paused, his mind automatically spinning back to the race that had taken the life of his good friend and caused him to question the sport he loved so much. ‘Sometimes you have to squeeze the fear a little.’
And in this game you never look back, he silently added.
‘Squeeze the fear?’
She said the words as if she were savouring a new taste on her tongue, and his body burned with a restless energy at the thought of tasting her again. But this time not just her mouth.
‘You really love it don’t you?’ she said, a soft smile curving her lips.
Tino’s mind jerked and went blank. Then he used his formidable mental control to switch off the erotic images turning his body hard. ‘I get to experience life in its most heightened and intense form. Nothing else has ever come close.’
And probably right now he was too close to her—both mentally and physically. He couldn’t remember ever having revealed so much about why he raced, and as for talking about his reasons for steering clear of relationships...
He frowned down at her. ‘You’re not going to repeat what I just said, are you?’
‘You mean to a journalist?’ Her tone was light, almost teasing.
‘Yes.’ His wasn’t.
‘Are your illustrious words worth very much?’
He scowled and she smiled.
‘Relax.’
That captivating smile grew and he knew she was thinking of all the times he had told her to do the same thing.
‘I don’t need the money.’
Tino was jostled from behind by an exuberant dancer and his whole body came up flush against Miller’s. Foreign emotions he couldn’t name and a healthy dose of testosterone heightened as the arousal he’d been holding at bay flared instantly to life.
So much for that formidable mental control, Ventura.
He stopped dancing. ‘I think it’s time to call it a night.’
He noticed her face was flushed, and his arms tightened around her like a steel cage.
She stood still, looking up at him. ‘I had no idea your job was so fascinating.’
His eyes became hooded and he saw his own desperate need reflected back at him from her over-bright eyes. Her lips parted softly in silent invitation and he had to fight the instinct to crush her mouth beneath his.
He studied her slender hands curled around his shoulders, her fingers elegant, the nails unvarnished. They suited her serious nature and reminded him that ‘serious’ females were best avoided at all costs.
‘Valentino, are you okay?’
Her hands slid from his shoulders to rest
