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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ROCCO AND NICO

H e stared into those black eyes. How could he not have seen it? His gaze drifted down to that collarbone. He fisted his hands, resisting the urge to trace the length of it with his finger.

He remembered that cool, in control woman on New Year’s Eve, and the way she’d played him.

That was Nico? This woman? They’re one and the same?

He felt a familiar sick cold sweat, the same sick cold sweat he’d felt when he’d had to stand with a frozen smile on his face and shake Carolyn’s hand as she stood next to her husband as though he were meeting her for the first time. And with the entire Blue Jet team and crew looking on.

“It was you!” he cried. “I can’t believe I could be so stupid.

I kept telling myself there was something.

Something familiar. But I still don’t understand.

Okay. So, you made me look like an ass, even more of an ass, given I turned out to be your teammate.

But why didn’t you tell me? Especially since— Why would you be with me, like— Fuck! The things I told you.”

“I—I—can— I can explain. I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”

He thought about that woman and how smooth she’d been.

She was like some kind of professional you’d see in a movie.

That made him think about how little he knew about the woman who stood before him now.

She was so guarded, revealed so little about herself and her past. And then it hit him. That night.

“The drinking game,” he said.

She frowned. “What?”

“When we played Never Have I Ever. All those things you admitted to doing.”

“You admitted to the same things.”

“That’s different.”

Her cheeks were flushed. “Why? Because you’re a man and I’m a woman?

That’s it. Isn’t it?” Her head dropped, and she gazed at his feet.

“I knew what I was doing when I admitted to those things. I got my answer. You’re thinking of those things, even now.

You could never get past my past, the things I’ve done.

What happened at Drink and Dive hardly matters. ”

“What do you mean, your past?”

She shrugged, but as she turned her head, he watched her hastily brush away tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“The things I admitted I’d done during that drinking game and other things.

What I did to you on New Year’s Eve. Conning a man for money.

It wasn’t the first time I’d done that.”

“You’ve done that before?”

She nodded.

Now that cold sweat burned hot.

That’s why she was so good at it.

He turned away and began pacing. He still couldn’t figure out what she was playing at. Why all the rest of it? What did she want from him?

Those stories about her mamma and nonno. They must be lies.

So, what about Mickey? Who was this guy?

He swung around, glaring at her. “And Mickey? Why did he suddenly show up now? You’ve never mentioned him. Why is he here? How did he know we’d be here?”

“I don’t know how he found out. But he has ways. He’s a con artist.”

“Of course he is. And you let him put his grimy paws all over you.”

She met his gaze. “What?”

“I saw the way he put his hands on you at the dinner table, the way he stroked you. Not exactly the kind of thing an uncle does with his niece. Is he really your uncle?”

She looked down and said nothing.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Answer me. Is he your uncle?”

She shook her head and uttered a “no” that was so quiet he almost wondered if he’d imagined it.

He let go. “I suppose that’s something. It would be even worse if he were. I know exactly what he is to you.”

“He’s nothing to me now.”

“Now? But he was once.”

“Yes. But not anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She looked up at him. “It’s true!”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “I don’t want my family—” His eyes flew open so wide and so suddenly, his head began to pound.

My family. Why come here? She had to have told him. What are they planning?

The whole thing was bizarre. She was an F1 driver. Why would she involve herself in anything like this? But then he thought back to New Year’s Eve. She saw her chance, and she jumped at it. She hated him that much. Even after everything that had happened.

“What is he out there doing with them now?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “But I wouldn’t trust him. Your family shouldn’t trust him. I didn’t know he was here until your mother sent you that text. But I did worry he might come, that he might find me.”

“And you left a trail of breadcrumbs to lead him right to my parents’ house.”

She lowered her head, and plump teardrops fell from her lashes. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, Rocco.”

“Spare me the tears. My family!”

“I’m sorry, Rocco. Really, I’m—”

She reached for him, but he pushed her away and turned his back to her.

It was bad enough they were teammates, but this? Why had she gone on to be with him like this? To come to his family home? To make his nieces fall in love with her? To make him fall— No! He would not even think it. Would not convince himself of something that could not be true.

It cannot be true.

What kind of woman … ?

You know what kind of woman. Carolyn is that kind of woman. But this one, standing before you now, is worse. Because being with Carolyn had never been like this.

When he next spoke, his words sounded stuttered and halting even to himself. It felt as though they were choking him.

“Inigo Montoya, the rat, your nonno, your mamma, the stupid fucking little prince—man, you really are good. I believed it. All of it. I’m just trying to figure out what you planned to do with it all.”

“There was no plan,” she sobbed. “None of it was part of a plan.”

“I don’t believe you. Why should I? All this time, making me believe you were someone else, making my family believe it.”

“That woman on New Year’s Eve, that’s not me, that’s part of the past. Okay, yes, my past, but it’s not me. Not the real me. The time spent with you and your family—that’s me—the real me.”

He swung around.

“You stay away from my family. Do you hear me? I don’t want you going anywhere near them. Ever. Again. When I think of how you used my nieces to get to me …”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

He swallowed. But he lifted his chin, fixing on what looked like a spider making its way across the wall.

“No,” she said, sobbing. “I didn’t. I would never. I love Sofia and Beatrice.”

“I don’t even want to hear their names coming out of your mouth. I can’t believe I did this again. You’re worse than Carolyn.” He turned and marched up to her, holding his finger a mere inch from her nose. “If you think you’re going to ruin this season for me—”

Nico shook her head. “No, I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

“You’re damn right you’re not. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to pack your suitcase, and you’re going to leave. You’re going to make up an excuse why you have to go. I’ll have a talk with your uncle Mickey. God, what a fool I’ve been.”

“No, Rocco. That’s not— Will you at least let me explain? I’m not even expecting you to forgive me, but will you please just listen? For yourself as much as for me. You haven’t been a fool. I—”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

He shoved her aside and began to open the door. “And when we’re back to racing—stay out of my fucking way—both on the track and off it.”

He slammed the door behind him.

Nico stood numb. It was as though she were in some parallel world where it appeared as though she were in the same space and time as Rocco, but in reality, she wasn’t.

She was so far away, she couldn’t reach him.

So far away, she would never be able to reach him.

So far away, not because she had traveled to some other space and time, but because he had.

He was beyond her now. No matter what she said, she’d lost him. He was gone.

Why hadn’t she stuck to her plan in Monte Carlo? She was supposed to channel that woman he met at Drink and Dive. The woman who couldn’t be touched. The woman who couldn’t be moved. The woman who could never love or be loved.

Why hadn’t she just let those elevator doors close and let Rocco think there was something between her and Anker? Why did she care what he thought of her? Why had she let him kiss her? Why had she come here?

She should have left the hotel room that night after he left. Then she wouldn’t have been there when he came back the next morning. Then that maybe would have been a no , like it should have been.

She’d wanted to tell him; it was her who had been the fool, not him.

Somehow, she managed to move her limbs, and with trembling hands, wiped her tears and packed her suitcase.

She would fall apart later. She had a few days before the season began. She would go back to Vegas. Have a complete breakdown. And then Charles and Templeton would help her put herself back together again.

Rocco paced back and forth in the living room of the apartment he’d rented for this weekend’s race—the first race after the three-week break.

Dario and Celeste sat on the sofa, looking stunned after what he’d told them.

Dario shook his head. “That was Nico? I can’t believe it.”

Rocco could. Now. He’d sensed something familiar about her from the beginning.

From the very beginning. It was those eyes.

Those pitch-black eyes. Thinking about those eyes gave him a moment’s hesitation.

Should he have given her a chance to explain?

No , he thought. Explain what? She was a con artist, and that made her a liar. What else had she lied about?

He thought about Barcelona. Even that— He stopped pacing and swallowed. All of it. She could have lied about all of it. He had more reason to believe she had than she hadn’t.

Dario came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay this weekend?”

“Of course I am,” Rocco said, shrugging him off. “Why wouldn’t I be?”