Harper smiled and gazed around Callum’s large living room. It held twice as many guests as it was intended to house and absently, she thought she felt as if she had just stepped into the pages of The Great Gatsby.
Callum’s fiftieth birthday celebrations were in full swing and seemingly a roaring success: elegant women and debonair men were conversing and laughing with unbridled joy as if their lives were truly as beautiful as the party they were now attending. Some were already dancing to Callum’s fifties inspired music, while others had taken their beverages outside and were soaking up the balmy night, absently batting at the annoying insects that darted around as if they were trying to zap someone.
It was a crowd Matteo would fit in – especially dressed as he was now, in a crisp blue shirt that hugged his wide shoulders and showcased his amazing eyes and tailored pants that hung perfectly from his lean hips.
“You look like you’re at a funeral,” Matteo said wryly, his breath warm against her temple.
Harper sniffed in acknowledgement of his comment. She did felt as if she were at a funeral. Ever since they’d returned from the park, she had felt edgy and stressed at her sudden attack of blabbermouth. Trying to turn tables on him had been a dismal failure. As soon as she’d asked about him, he’d sprung up from the table as if an ant had crawled to his jeans.
“I’m boring,” he said, which loosely translated to conversation closed.
It had almost been a race to see who would make it to the car first. But he must have sensed her childish hurt at his rebuff because he’d glanced at her when they were in the car.
“Everything you could possibly want to know about me is on the internet.”
She scoffed. “The internet tells me superficial stuff, like how many races you’ve won and how many hearts you’ve broken.”
He’s seemed to get annoyed at that. “As I told Denver, if I had slept with as many women as the media proclaims, I’d have hardly enough time to enter a race – let alone win one. In fact, I rarely play with a woman during racing season and if I do, it’s very short lived.
Play? Can’t he think of a more dissociative term?
“Why?” Because you get bored easily?”
“There is that. But no, I usually don’t allow a woman to hand around long enough to bore me. Basically, women want more attention than I’m prepared to give them, so if I indulge it’s usually for a night or two.”
“That’s pretty shallow.”
He’d shrugged. “Not if the woman is after the same thing.”
“And how many are?”
“Not enough, it’s true. Most want more – hence my moratorium on limiting those intimacies during the season.”
“To make sure you don’t have to contend with any broken hearts that might wreck your concentration?” she’d said churlishly.
He’d smiled as if he hadn’t heard her censure. “Not much can wreck my concentration but a whiny woman can certainly do damage to a man’s eardrums.”
“No more than your whiny cars,” she’d shot back pithily. But then she’d grown curious. “Don’t you ever want more?”
“Racing gives me everything I need,” he’d said.
His unwavering confidence had pushed her to probe further.”So have you ever been in love?”
“Sure.” He’d glanced over at her and Harper remembered holding her breath. “My first love was a bright red 1975 Maserati Bora. She’s sexy as hell.”
Harper sighed in exasperation. “Be serious,” she said, and that made his eyes become hooded. His expression blank.
“The love you are talking about isn’t on my radar, Mitchell.”
“Ever?”
“Let’s just say I’ll never marry while I’m racing and I’ve yet to meet a woman who excites me enough to make me give it up.” His flat tone had turned grim. “Love is painful. When you lose someone…” He stopped, collecting himself. “I won’t do that to another person.”
Another person or himself? Harper wondered now, sensing that part of his emotional aloofness was just a way of protecting himself from pain. His words hovered heavily in her mind, almost like a warning.
Determined the best thing she could do for herself was to forget the whole afternoon, Harper sipped at Callum’s finest champagne and focused on the tiny bubbles of heaven that spilled across her tongue.
“What did you say?” Matteo’s low voice caused the champagne bubbles to disperse to other parts of her body. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her mouth.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You…” his gaze lifted to meet her eyes. “You murmured something.”
Harper’s mouth went dry and she was more determined than ever to crush the physical effect he had on her. “Just remember that tonight, I need you to be totally circumspect and professional. Discreet.”
What she was really saying was that she didn’t want him to touch her, and he knew it.
“Like the other patsies you date?”
“I do not date patsies,” she said, wondering how it was that he managed to push all her buttons so easily.
“Sure you do. You date men who are learned, PC at all times and… controllable.”
The way his tongue curled with the word has sent tingles to her skin. Despite this, his assessment annoyed her all the more. She knew if she did have a date, she’d look for someone just like that – except for the controllable part. You don’t need to control gentlemen.
“While you hunt out blondes with big boobs and an IQ that wouldn’t challenge a chicken,” she replied sweetly.
He paused and Harper was just congratulating herself on getting the last word in when he said, “She doesn’t have to be blonde.”
His slow smile was a signal for her to back off before she gets sucked by his vortex again.
“And need I say more–“
“Don’t say it,” she’d admonished peevishly. “I’ll only be disappointed.”
His soft laughter confirmed that he knew he had the upper hand and Harper determinedly faced the crowded room, searching for distraction. She heard Matteo let out a long, slow breath and wondered if he was annoyed with her.
“How ‘bout we call it a truce, eh, Harper?”
“A truce?”
“Yeah. And I don’t mean the kind of pact the settlers made with the aborigines before marching them off the edge of a cliff. I mean a proper one.” He reached out his hand to her. “Friends?”
Friends? He wants to befriend me and I couldn’t stop thinking about sex. Great. Just great.
She took another fortifying gulp of champagne and could have been drinking his motor oil for all the pleasure it now gave her. “Sure,” she shook hands with him.
“Good.”
God. This is awful. And he hadn’t been calling me ”baby” in hours. Oh shit. Why am I thinking like this? What’s wrong with me?
Harper was saved from the tumultuous nature of her thoughts when Callum, his chest barrel chest bedecked in white tuxedo jacket, approached.
“Harper. You look lovely tonight.”
Harper’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t look lovely at all. She looked boring in her long sleeved black blouse with matching pencil skirt. She hadn’t brought a single provocative item of clothing this weekend because she had no wish to encourage old-man Callum’s attention. And possibly because she didn’t actually own anything remotely provocative. It had been a long time since she had spent money on clothing for anything other than work or exercise.
“Thank you,” she responded to the comment as she was expected to and with civilities attended to, Callum turned to Matteo – the latest object of his fickle attentions.
“Maverick, I have someone who’s been dying to meet you.”
Harper tried to smile as the famous supermodel, Natasha, clothed in a clinging nude-colored chiffon creation, stepped out from behind Callum and extended her elegant hand.
A sort of mini-dramatic entrance, Harper thought sourly which was a little unfair. By all accounts, the model was not only considered the most beautiful woman on the planet, but the nicest as well. She looked sweetly nervous as Matteo’s large hand engulfed hers.
“Mr. De Luca…” Natasha’s awed exhalation promised sexual antics in the bedroom Harper only ever fantasized about – and with the man now staring at the supermodel no less.
“This is Natasha,” Callum continued. “Latest sensation to hit the New York runways but I don’t have to tell you that. You probably have her photo up on your garage wall,” he guffawed at his own tasteless humor and then seemed to remember his audience.”No disrespect, Harper.”
“None taken,” Harper lied smoothly. What she really wanted to say would jeopardize everything she had worked hard for.
She felt Matteo tense beside her and wondered if he wasn’t experiencing some sort of extreme physical reaction toward the beautiful blonde. Every other man in the room seemed to be.
“Natasha.” Matteo smiled and slowly released her hand.
Damn, they look perfect together. Her gold to his dark. Feeling like an ass next to the stunning model, Harper excused herself and left the men to ogle Natasha alone. No need to be a glutton for punishment.
She’d veered off from her decoy destination other bathroom and made it to the glass bi-fold doors leading outside when Frank appeared.
“You know, Frank, I don’t know if I can go another round with you,” Harper said with bald honesty.
It was another balmy, star-filled night and she just wanted fresh air and peace. He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I read some of the ideas you put down this afternoon. They’re good.”
“The only thing bothering me with that comment is that you seem to have expected something less.”
He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Can we talk?”
Resignation settled like a brick in her stomach and she extended her hand towards the deck. Might as well fulfill the fresh air component of her plan a least.
“By all means.”
Frank walked ahead of her, but when she made to continue down the steps toward the more secluded Japanese garden, Harper stayed him. “Here’s fine.”
She had no wish to recall the heady kiss she had shared with Matteo the night before any more than she already had. Not with Frank around anyway.
Winding around various partygoers, Harper found a quiet part of the deck and turned to face him.”What did you want to say?”
“Firstly, I wanted to apologize for being such an asshole in the meeting earlier today. My intention was only to stop you from getting hurt.”
Harper felt a sense of unease prickle the skin along her cheekbones. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t seemed yourself lately,” she ventured. “Is something going on with Nancy again?”
“No, no. That’s well and truly over.”
He gripped the wooden railing and seemed absorbed by the whiteness of his knuckles.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” even though she had never met Frank’s wife, Harper hated to hear the end of any marriage.
Frank jerked back and flexed his hands before catching her eye. “Come on, Harper. Surely you know what this is about?”
Harper stared at him and shook her head. “No.”
But she did know, didn’t she? Jessica and Matteo had already warned her.
“Okay then. If you want me to spell it out for you, I will,” he seemed slightly nervous. “Us.”
“Us?” Harper knew her voice had become shrill with alarm.
He nodded, clearly warming to his subject, “Or more specifically, the chemistry between us.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you, Harper. There’s been something between since the moment we met.”
He held his hand up and silenced her attempt to save them both from any further embarrassment.
“I know you don’t want to acknowledge it because we work together, but you know I’ve felt like this since university. Coming to work for ORACLE six months ago had just made those feelings deepen. And yes, I know what you’re going to say,” he stopped her again. “I’m your superior and office affairs don’t work out well. But I know of plenty that have and I’m willing to risk it – for you.”
Harper got goose bumps. She was speechless and barely noticed when he took her hand to his.
“I’ve been behaving like an idiot this weekend because I still can’t accept that you’re really dating that pretty boy inside. Yeah, I can see the appeal, but we both know it won’t last. I’m not prepared to hold my breath and wait for it to fizzle out.”
“That’s too bad, Carter. I would have enjoyed seeing you in agony.”
Harper jumped at the sound of Matteo’s deep, calm voice. She glanced up and was once again taken aback by the cold glint in his eyes – a storm hue under the soft external lights.
He looked relaxed as he regarded Frank – preternaturally relaxed. In this mode, she could easily see why he was going for his eighth world championship. The shock was in the fact that other drivers had dared go up against him the first place.
Harper saw Frank’s chest puff out in a classic testosterone-filled gesture and was horrified that he might cause a scene. Right now, Matteo looked as if he wanted to chew Frank up and spit him out sideways.
“You don’t have ownership rights here, De Luca.”
Ownership rights? Harper’s gaze swung back to Frank. What am I? A car?
“Let her go,” Matteo ordered quietly, his eyes never straying from Frank’s.
Harper realized that Frank was still holding her hand and tugged it free, wondering why it was only Italian champagne and Matteo’s touch seemed to make her insides fizz with excitement.
“Harper is her own boss,” Frank opined.
Now, that’s more like it.
“Harper is mine.” Matteo’s soft growl was full of menace.
The immediate warmth that stole through her system at his possessive words threw Harper off-balance. How many times had she imagined her father riding in on a white charger and restoring her torn world to rights again? To have Matteo stand up for her was… disconcerting. Unnerving. Exhilarating.
Frank was the first to break eye contact in the stag competition going on and Harper couldn’t blame him. Even though he was cleanly shaven, Matteo, at least in his mood, was not a man you would dare to cross. He was like a lethal warrior of old who would not only win, but would take no prisoners either.
“Dance.”
Matteo held out his hand for her and she felt herself bristle when he didn’t even glance her way. Then his steely eyes cut to hers and she forgot about being grouchy.
“Please.”
Her heart beat as fast as his silver sports car had eaten up the bitumen on their trip down as he led her onto the parquet dance floor.
“What’s with the caveman antics?”she asked softly.
Matteo stared at her, his feet unmoving. His eyes intense and seemingly transfixed to hers. “Playing the part of the jealous boyfriend. What else?”
It took a moment for his words to register fully, and when they did, Harper felt sick. It felt like a lightning just struck and left her toast. Playing the part. Fake. Pretense. The skin on her face felt as if it had been whipped and she briefly closed her eyes against his handsome face.
If she thought she’d been embarrassed spilling all her secrets to him earlier, she now felt one hundred times worse.
Harper tried to understand why she felt so miserable. So he stood up for her and felt warmed by it. Had he been hurt by the loss of his father as she had? And he even remembered my favorite ice cream flavor.
He’s a nice person. Well, nicer than she first thought. But at the end of the day, he was still no one to her. A virtual stranger.
A virtual stranger who had brought her orgasm within minutes of touching her. If only she could stop thinking about that!
Steeling herself against emotions she couldn’t immediately label, Harper breathed deeply and slowly, determined that he wouldn’t know how she had momentarily forgotten this whole thing was fake.
“Just be thankful this thing isn’t real between us,” he whispered. “I would’ve decked him if he was.”
For that horrifying second, Harper wondered if he’d read her thoughts, “For challenging you?”
“For staring at your breasts as if he could already imagine touching them. He hasn’t, did he?”
Harper’s eyebrows shot up, “Of course not!”
He scowled, “You don’t want him to, do you?”
“Hell no!”
He almost had her convinced he was seriously pissed about Frank’s interest to her.
“Good. And don’t ever walk away from me in a middle of a conversation again.”
Harper frowned. “If you’re referring to Callum and Natasha,” she rolled her eyes, “it was hardly required.”
“When it comes to relationships, you have no idea what’s required.”
His words stung because they were true. Relationships scared the crap out of her, but she was too tired to argue anymore. She just zipped her mouth 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. She 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.
Harper’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.
“Harper?”
His husky call made her peek up at him from under her fringe bangs. This wasn’t her. She didn’t peek, she looked. She organized herself. She was melting as her eyes drifted over his face and her body brushed his.
Her heart beat raced faster and she wondered what type of man he really was. Why he lived the life he did. Why had he 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 questioned, 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 an oven.