The Pretense

Chapter 17

                "Ma's finally got her wish, I see."

Matteo turned at the sound of his older brother's voice and kept his irritation in check. He'd been enjoying a moment's quiet after being inundated with well-wishers and pseudo-virgins at his mother's charity extravaganza all night. Fortunately, now, the guests seemed to have settled – chatting, dancing and enjoying the view from one of Gerardo's premier hotels.

"What's that?" he asked, feigning interest.

"One of her sons has found love at her famous event," Gerardo glanced towards the dance floor where Harper was dancing.

Matt glowered at him, "I'm not even going to pretend I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's good. We can cut straight to what you're intending to do about it instead. Should I be shining my shoes?"

"Not unless you're planning to go back to school," Matt said lightly. He added dismissively, "I'm not in love with Harper – in case that was your inopportune comment."

He'd rather have Gerardo harangue him about the big race tomorrow than a woman who was already constantly on his mind. He glanced at the dance floor where Harper was teaching his twelve-year-old nephew to waltz as his body throbbed at the pleasurable memory of their lovemaking an hour earlier when he had returned to their penthouse suite.

Not that he'd meant in to be lovemaking. What he'd meant it to be was rough and raw sex to put them squarely back on the footing they'd started out on.

He'd spent six stressful hours at the track, secured second off the grid for tomorrow's race and endured a grueling press conference that had focused as much on his new 'girlfriend' as it had on tomorrow's race.

All day he ignored his over-reaction to Harper's near-to-death accident and the effort it had taken to keep his emotions under lock and key and to be able to perform on the track had worn thin.

When he'd returned to the room and found Harper standing beside the bed in a demi-cup bra and matching thong, he had not even bothered to say hello.

He frowned, his memory turning him rock hard.

He remembered that she glanced up at him, half-startled to find that he prowled silently into the bedroom then soon enough, she was against the wall and he'd been between her legs before he'd even thought about it.

He'd barely leashed his violent need for her and yet once again, she'd been right there with him. Just as she had a tendency to do, she'd managed to twist the final few minutes of their coupling so that he was no longer the one in control. This time, she'd insisted that he look at her with just the whisper of his name and they'd flown over the edge together in an endless pleasure.

Her sweet mouth still looked a little bruised and as for the dress she had on, it hugged her body to show her sensual and usually hidden curves. The chocolate-brown silk and froth creation clung to her luscious breasts and buttocks and set off her skin to perfection. He'd never actually seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and his latent fear of tomorrow's race paled in comparison to the feelings she raised for him.

She was in his head – hell, she had been in the car with him at the track that afternoon and that couldn't happen.

"You haven't taken your eyes off her all night and you've barely gone near her. Lousy chap," Gerardo drawled.

Matt tipped the contents of his glass of iced water down his parched throat. "That's your definition of love?" he mocked, forcing his tone to reflect bored nonchalance. "No wonder you struggle to keep a woman."