Living the Charade. Michelle Conder

than a few, she mused silently, and none that could be repeated in polite company.

      Desperate to break the tension between them, Miller moved to the back of her car and pulled out her overnight bag. Valentino met her halfway and stowed it in the sports car before holding the passenger door wide for her.

      Miller raised an eyebrow and gripped the doorframe, steeling herself to stare into his eyes. This close, the colour was amazing: streaks of silver over blue, with a darker band of grey encircling each iris.

      She sucked in a deep breath and ignored his earthy male scent. ‘You need to understand that I’m in charge this weekend.’ Her voice wasn’t very convincing even to her own ears but she continued on regardless. ‘On the drive down we’ll establish some ground rules, but basically all I need you to do is to follow my lead. Do you think you can do that?’

      He smiled. That all-knowing grin that crinkled the outer edges of his amazing eyes. ‘I’ll give it my best shot. How does that sound?’

      Terrible. It sounded terrible.

      He leaned closer and Miller found herself sitting on butter-soft leather before she’d meant to. Her brain once again flashing a warning to run. Taking a deep breath, she ignored it and scanned the sleek interior of the car: dark and somehow predatory—like Valentino himself. It must have cost a fortune to rent, and again she wondered what he did for a living.

      She couldn’t look away from the way his jeans hugged his muscular thighs as she watched as he slid into the driver’s seat. ‘You’re not a lawyer like your brother, are you?’ she asked hopefully.

      ‘Good God, no! Do I look like a lawyer?’

      Not really. ‘No.’ She tried not to be too disappointed. ‘Do you have the questionnaire I gave you?’

      ‘No one could fault your excitement about wanting to get to know me.’

      He reached into the back, his body leaning way too close to hers, and handed her the questionnaire.

      Then he started the car, and Miller’s senses were on such high alert that the husky growl of the engine made her want to squirm in her seat.

      ‘You’ll notice I added to it as well,’ he informed her, merging into the building inner city traffic.

      She glanced up, feeling completely discombobulated, and decided not to distract him by asking what he’d added. She concentrated on the questionnaire.

      His favourite colour was blue, favourite food was Thai. He’d grown up in Melbourne. Hobbies: swimming, running and surfing—no wonder he looked so fit! No sign of any cerebral pursuits—no surprise there. Family: two sisters and two brothers.

      ‘You have a big family.’

      He grunted something that sounded like yes.

      ‘Are you close?’ The impetuous question was too personal, and unnecessary, but as she’d spent much of her youth longing for siblings her curiosity got the better of her.

      He glanced at her briefly. ‘Not particularly.’

      That was a shame. Miller had always dreamed that large families were full of happy, supportive siblings who would do anything for each other.

      ‘What does “Lives: everywhere” mean?’ she asked, glancing at the questionnaire.

      ‘I travel a lot.’

      ‘Backpacking?’

      That got a hoot of laughter. ‘Sunshine, I’m thirty-three—a bit old to be a backpacker.’

      He threw her a smile and Miller found her eyes riveted to his beautiful even white teeth.

      ‘I travel for work.’

      She blinked back the disturbing effect he had on her and once again scanned the questionnaire. ‘Driving?’ She couldn’t keep the scepticism out of her voice as she read out the answer under ‘Occupation’. ‘Driving what?’

      He threw her a quick look. ‘Cars. What else?’

      ‘I don’t know. Buses? Trains?’ She tried not to let her annoyance show. ‘Trucks?’ God, don’t let him be a taxi driver; Dexter would never let her hear the end of it.

      ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those stuck-up females who only go for rich guys with white collar jobs.’

      Miller sniffed. She’d been so busy working and establishing her career the last time she’d gone for any man was back at university. Not that she would be telling him that. ‘Of course not.’

      But she did like a man in a suit.

      He snorted as if he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t elaborate on his answer.

      Sensing he might be embarrassed about his job, she decided to let it drop for now. Maybe he wouldn’t mind pretending to be an introverted actuary for the weekend. No one really knew what they did except that it involved mathematics, and not even Dexter was likely to try and engage him in that topic of conversation.

      She flipped the page in front of her and found her eyes drawn to his commanding scrawl near the bottom.

      Her nose wrinkled. ‘I don’t need to know what type of underwear you wear.’ And she didn’t want to imagine him in sexy boxer briefs.

      ‘According to your little summary we’ve been dating for two months. I think you’d know what type of underwear I wear, wouldn’t you?’

      ‘Of course I would. But it’s not relevant because I’ll never need to use that information.’

      He glanced at her again. ‘You don’t know that.’

      ‘I could have just made something up had the need arisen.’

      ‘Are you always this dishonest?’

      Miller exhaled noisily. She was never dishonest. ‘No. I loathe dishonesty. And I hate this situation. And what’s more I’m sick of having men think that just because I’m single I’m available.’

      ‘It’s not just because of that?’

      ‘No,’ she agreed, thinking of TJ. ‘My client isn’t really attracted to me at all. He’s attracted to the word no.’

      ‘You think?’

      ‘I know. It’s what has made him his fortune. He’s bullish, arrogant and pompous.’

      ‘Not having met the man, I’ll have to trust your judgement. But if you want my opinion your client is probably more turned on by your glossy hair, killer mouth and hourglass figure than your negative response.’

      ‘Wha—? Hey!’ Miller braced her hands on the dashboard as the car swerved around a bus like a bullet, nearly fainting before Valentino swung back into the left-hand lane two seconds before hitting a mini-van.

      ‘Relax. I do this for a living.’

      ‘Kill your passengers?’ she said weakly.

      He laughed. ‘Drive.’

      Miller forgot all about the near miss with an oncoming vehicle as his comments about her looks replayed in her head.

      Did he really think she had a killer mouth? And why was her heart beating like a tiny trapped bird?

      ‘I don’t think we can say we met at yoga,’ he said.

      ‘Why not?’ She didn’t believe for a minute that he could be interested in her, but if he thought he would be getting easy sex this weekend he had another thing coming.

      His amused eyes connected with hers. ‘Because I don’t do yoga.’

      Miller felt her lips pinch together as she realised he was toying with her. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

      ‘More than I thought I would,’ he agreed.