Craving Her Enemy's Touch

‘But you are a beautiful woman, Charlotte, why hide it?’ The intensity in his eyes scared her, made her heart pound, and she bit down on her lower lip, suddenly very much out of her depth.

‘I was a rebellious teenager,’ she explained, giving in to the need to offer some sort of explanation. Heat infused her cheeks and she looked out over Milan to hide her embarrassment. It was time to change the subject; she’d said more than enough to him. This wasn’t about her—it was about Seb. ‘Can we go now? I’d like to see the car.’

‘Of course,’ he said as he stood up, preparing to leave. ‘If you are sure this is what you want to do.’

She’d never been more certain about anything, which was strange, given that just twenty-four hours ago she’d thought she never wanted to see this man. His timing had been impeccable, arriving so soon after the conversation she’d had with her father about getting her life back again.

‘Before we go,’ she asked, unable to keep the hint of suspicion from her voice, ‘what did my father say to you when you told him about the launch?’

He looked directly at her, his stance bold and intimidating. ‘It appears he wants only your happiness.’

‘I need to contact him, tell him I will be at the launch.’

‘He knows.’ She looked at him. There was not a hint of conceit on his handsome face, but she sensed he was keeping something from her. She decided to let it go—for now. At the moment, seeing the car which had become Seb’s world was at the top of her list and talking like this wouldn’t help at all. She tried to deflect his interest with light-hearted words.

‘And will he be there too?’

‘He hopes to be.’

‘That sounds like Dad.’

‘This way,’ he said as he picked up his keys and slipped on a leather jacket. The understated style only emphasised the latent strength of his body and she had to pull her gaze away, force herself to think of other things. This was not the time or the place to become attracted to a man—especially not this man.

* * *

Alessandro wasn’t able to negotiate the morning traffic of Milan with his usual ease. He could hardly concentrate on driving. His main focus was instead on the woman beside him. She didn’t say anything, merely looked around her, taking in the vibrancy of the city he loved.

‘Have you always lived in Milan?’ Her voice was soft and should have soothed his restless mind, but it didn’t. The slight husky tone to it only intensified the way his body seemed on high alert just being next to her.

‘For most of my adult life, yes.’ He knew it was only small talk, but discussing his family with outsiders wasn’t what he usually did. But Seb had become like a brother to him, even in such a short time, so didn’t that make Charlie anything but an outsider?

‘Seb mentioned your family lives in Tuscany and produce wines.’ Her voice was light in an attempt to make conversation, but such questions made him uneasy. When a woman asked about family, there was usually intent behind it. But what motivation could Charlie possibly have?

He shrugged and turned onto the open road, leaving the city behind as they headed for the test track. The sun shone with the promise of another hot day. ‘That is true, but my love was for cars, not wine. So I moved to Milan, finished my education and began working for my uncle, turning the company around and making it the success it is today. The rest, I believe you would say, is history.’

‘And this car? Was that also part of your love for cars?’ She almost caressed the words, setting his pulse racing at an alarming rate.

He glanced across at her, watching as she looked around the interior with genuine interest, proving all that Seb had told him about her was true. She wasn’t much older than his sister but, at twenty-four, had made her way to the top of her career, promoting first her father’s racing team, then Seb’s. She was a successful woman in her own right, and that success had been born out of her passion for cars and racing, which was why Seb had wanted her at the launch of the car.

She ran the tips of her fingers across the dashboard in front of her, leaving him in no doubt of her love of cars—and that she was a woman of passion. She’d shown him that much last night with her kiss. He pressed down on the accelerator in a bid to focus his attention on anything else but her, and the car responding willingly. Thinking of last night’s kiss wouldn’t help to quell the lingering desire she’d awakened.

‘Impressive,’ she said quickly, laughter filling her voice.