Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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