A Secret Worth Keeping?: Living the Charade / Her Shameful Secret / Island of Secrets

Her silky hair slid over his knuckles and made his fingers flex, and then she made a tiny sound that turned him harder than stone.

Tino couldn’t have stopped his tongue from plunging in and out of the moist sweetness of her mouth if he’d had a gun to his head. All day he’d wondered if she’d taste as good as her summery scent promised, and now he had his answer.

Better.

So much better.

He was powerless to pull back, his brain as stalled as the Mercedes he’d accidentally flooded in the second race of his professional career.

He gave a deep groan of pleasure as her arms wound around his neck, and he gripped her hips to pull her pelvis in tightly against his own.

His arousal jerked as it came into contact with her soft belly, and it was all he could do not to grind himself against her.

So much for not being that attracted to her.

He urged her lips to open even wider and she didn’t resist when he possessed her mouth in a carnal imitation of the way his body wanted to possess hers. An instantaneous fire beat flames through his body, and her low, keening moans of pleasure were making him hotter still.

He had to have her.

Here.

Now.

His hand slid to her bottom, the outside of her thighs, drawing her in and up so that he could settle more fully in the tempting vee of her body. He felt her fingers move into his hair, her feminine curves pressing closer as she rubbed against him. Tino couldn’t hold back another groan—and nearly exploded when he heard someone clearing their throat behind him.

Bloody hell. He drew his mouth back and took a moment before reaching up to unwind Miller’s arms from around his neck. She made a moue of protest and slowly opened passion-drugged eyes. He knew when her senses returned from the same planet where his had gone that she’d be more than pissed.

‘Sunshine, we have company,’ he whispered gruffly, his unsteady breath ruffling the top of her hair.

He gave her time to compose herself before turning to face the person behind them. He was certain it was Caruthers. He also gave himself time to get his raging hard-on under control. Not that it seemed to be responding with any speed.

* * *

Miller looked up at Valentino and was aghast to realise that she had become so completely lost in his kiss that she had quite forgotten they were in a public place.

Never before had she been kissed like that, and heat filled her cheeks at the realisation that she wouldn’t have stopped if Dexter hadn’t turned up. That she would have had sex with Valentino in the middle of a garden like some dumb groupie.

Not wanting to dwell on how that made her feel, Miller shoved the thought away before lurching backwards.

‘Dexter...’ she began, trying to organise her thoughts on the hop. She was almost glad when Valentino took over.

‘You wanted something, Caruthers?’

Miller closed her eyes at Valentino’s rough question and wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

‘I came to let Miller know that TJ has opened champagne in the music room. As we’re here in a professional capacity to win the man’s business, it might be prudent for her to join us.’

Miller smoothed her eyebrows and stepped out from behind Valentino, determined that Dexter wouldn’t see how mortified she felt right now. ‘Of course.’ She forced herself not to defend her actions, even though she desperately wanted to.

‘Good. I’ll leave you to pull yourself together,’ Dexter said stiffly.

He was clearly upset with her, and he had good reason to be, Miller thought. She was here in a professional capacity, and even if she and Valentino really were lovers it didn’t excuse her poor behaviour.

Although they had been secluded from the other guests, Dexter had found them—which meant anyone else could have.

A small voice informed her that Valentino had probably achieved his goal and put paid to Dexter’s suspicions about the genuineness of their relationship, but Miller wasn’t listening.

She wouldn’t have chosen to do it that way, and she was furious that Valentino hadn’t given her a choice. Furious that he had used his superior height and strength to hold her against him to prove a point. A point he had clearly enjoyed.

As did you. The snide voice popped up again, reminding her of how she had wrapped her tongue around his and tried to climb his body to assuage the ache that was still beating heavily between her thighs.

God, what a mess.

Valentino moved his arm in a gesture for her to precede him up the path and Miller determinedly made the same gesture back to him. He cocked an eyebrow at her, his eyes lingering on her mouth; his trademark sexy grin was more a warning than an indication of pleasantness.

Miller narrowed her eyes and thought about stomping on his foot as she strode past, but she decided not to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he had succeeded in rattling her again.

She knew he liked to take control but, dammit, this was not his show to orchestrate. She was in charge and it was time to set some clear boundaries between them. She’d dealt with alpha males in her line of work before, and she’d deal with this one too.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_0250b859-7050-5d9f-abbb-e61609571858)

FEELING as if the past hour had taken a day to pass, Miller unfolded a woollen blanket and laid it on the bedroom floor.

‘What are you doing?’

She glanced up to find Valentino lounging against the bathroom doorway, watching her. His face was stony, but it only highlighted the chiselled jaw that was again in need of a razor. He wasn’t wearing anything other than his black jeans, unbuttoned, and his biceps bulged where he folded his hands across his superbly naked chest.

‘Problem with your shirt?’ she said, and could have kicked herself when his mouth curled into a knowing smile.

‘Only in as much as I don’t wear a shirt to bed.’

Miller raised an unconcerned eyebrow. ‘Lucky you wear jeans, then.’

‘I don’t.’

His eyebrow rose to match hers and she turned back to unfold a second blanket she’d picked up from the end of the bed. Flicking it out, she laid it on top of the first.

‘I repeat—what are you doing?’

‘Making up a bed. What does it look like?’

Valentino looked bored. ‘If you’re worried about whether or not I’m going to jump your bones now that we’re alone, I doubt I could get through that passion killer you’re wearing with a blowtorch.’

Miller stood up and moved to the wardrobe, where she had seen a group of pillows on the top shelf. She was glad that he didn’t like her quilt-style dressing gown. It had been a present from her late father, and although the stitching was frayed in places she’d never get rid of it.

Thinking about her father made her remember the day her parents had told her they were separating. She’d been ten at the time, and while they’d talked about it calmly and rationally Miller had felt sick and confused. Then her mother had driven her from Queensland to Victoria and Miller’s world had gone from cosy and safe to unpredictable and unhappy. A bit like the steely, coiled man feigning nonchalance in the bathroom doorway.

‘Or are you worried you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself after that kiss?’ he asked.