Big looked both ways and then tore out of the parking lot, the beast of a motor coming to life and using Vegas as its hunting grown.
“Portofino M.”
“This is one of the sexiest cars I’ve ever seen.” I tapped the dash.
“This one was a gift from the Fausti family.”
“TheFausti family?”
“Specifically, Rocco Fausti. Once upon a time, I was a racer in Italy for them. His father, Luca, is one of the greatest racers to ever live.”
I pulled my phone out and Googled:Tullio Bigatti Italian Race Car Driver.His face was plastered across the results, along with one of those little boxes that gave official information on him.
My eyes flew up. “Why did you quit? This says you’re one of the best.”
“Keep reading.”
Oh… My next breath went down like a lump of coal. His mom had died—complications of cirrhosis—and at first, they had accused his dad of killing her. Apparently, his parent’s relationship was violent, and they were both heavy drinkers. There was a fight between the two the night before she was found. His dad died two years after his mom and two years before his grandfather.
I glanced up at Big. His eyes were hard on the road. I knew what addiction could do to a family, and I knew my apology would only seem like I was feeling sorry for him. I did, but I felt the same for all families who had to go through it.
Scrolling further, I found something that made me burn a little. I’d never been jealous in my life, even when I had the energy to care. Maybe that wasn’t what this was, but…I was having a hard time putting a name to the feeling.
I lifted the phone. The screen showed a picture of him and a slightly built Italian beauty. Abree Caffi. She reminded me of a bird. “I’m her replacement?” Seemed like Big was engaged to her while he was in Italy doing his racing thing. She and her family were considered opera royalty.
“Do you care?”
“Why would I?”
“Just making sure.” He grinned.
Hot air blew through my nostrils. “Just because you gave me good sex doesn’t mean anything. I’m immune to feelings, and my heart is fireproof. I can’t be burned. Not anymore.”
“At least you can admit it’s—” he paused, like he was searching for the right word “—good between us.”
“Good” was a lame term for it, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to admit it. Like I didn’t. Probably because it took some of his control too. It was the kind of thing people would become shackled for.
“If it’s the one pleasure I can take from this—” I motioned between us “—that works for me.”
“It’s that moment in Paradiso.”
“Which moment?”
“When our eyes met.”
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. Was he trying to say we met in heaven? That was…heavy, and so romantic. He was laying the Italian charm on thick again. I needed to invest in an evil-eye amulet to keep him from consuming me. My heart knewnotfalling for him was going to be a challenge.
He wasn’t the kind of man a woman met every day. He was absurdly rich, powerful, good-looking, and had a successful run as one of the most famous racers in the world. Not to mention the Fausti family sent him gifts—a family that was considered ruthless royalty in Italy.
He wasn’t in a league—hewasthe league.
The tepid heat coming from him was making my guard feel relaxed, and I had to turn the conversation before I truly let it down. “You’re just talking sweet to me because you’re dodging the question.”
“Nothing sweet about me, Aphrodite. I speak the truth, whether it cuts or not.”
“Good. I’d rather a sharp knife of truth than a dull one of lies. Cuts to the quick faster. All that unnecessary pain—what’s the point?”
“Is that what happened to you?” He glanced at me before he turned his eyes back to the road. “A lot of unnecessary pain?”
