‘Firstly, because I am the last woman in the world you would date,’ she told him. ‘I’m not yourtype.’
There was a note of desperation in her voice, tinged by resignation. And she wasn’t being coy.
‘But you are, on the surface, nice and normal, and you are pretty,’ he countered, using her words against her.
She frowned. ‘On the surface?What does that mean?’
He narrowed his eyes, intrigued by the glimpse of deeper layers beneath the surface. She had secrets, and he wanted to know what they were. Surprising, since he normally never cared. Neither could he tell her that when he got her naked, he simply knew she’d turn wild in his arms. He chose to ignore her question, knowing she wasn’t ready to hear what he wanted to do to her in bed.
You have enough problems without adding bedding Millie to the long list, De Rossi. Get your head in the game.
‘You are going to be everywhere I am,’ he stated. ‘It would be far easier if you acted as my date.’ If he asked anyone else to be his date, there’d be complications, expectations he wasn’t willing to meet. He’d have to entertain her beyond the events and navigate a minefield of raised hopes and assumptions. But Millie? Millie was easy. As long as he kept everything surface-level—and he would—she could play the role of his date, then slip back into her role as his PR person when the event was over. No drama, no fuss, no strings.
Having Millie as his date wasn’t just convenient, it was safe. Predictable. And Taz needed a little predictable. And some easy. ‘Millie, it makes sense.’
‘To you, maybe,’ Millie retorted. ‘I stay in the background, Taz. It’s what I do. I don’t make headlines, Ispinthem. I couldn’t think of anything worse than standing in the limelight next to you.’
Her words made a sharper cut than expected, and he mentally flinched. He knew too well how it felt to stand in someone else’s shadow. He’d spent a lifetime trying—and failing—to be worthy of his father’s praise, and as much time coming to terms with the con job Alex had pulled on the world.
Or maybe somewhere deep inside him, in those places he rarely visited and never acknowledged, he wanted her or someone like her to be proud to stand next to him, proud to be with him, to think that the sun and moon rose with him.
Not because he was Taz De Rossi, Formula One driver and team owner, not for the fame and wealth that came as effortlessly as some of his track wins. But for the man he wanted to be. The man beneath the façade.
But it was senseless, and pointless, to think that way, and he wasn’t a stupid man. The world didn’t work that way. It ran on transactions, and he was a brilliant negotiator. ‘How much?’ he bluntly asked.
‘How much for what?’ she asked, confused.
He snapped his fingers, impatient. ‘For you to act as my girlfriend,’ he clarified.
‘You’re offering topayme to date you?’
Why not? He had an obscene amount of money and could afford it. And she was right, having a sensible girlfriend would look good as he stepped into his temporary role as a brand ambassador, as someone there to attract interest in the charity.
‘If I invited someone else, I’d have to pay for her flights, her hotel room, her food and probably her clothes. I’m already paying those costs for you. You’d need clothes, cocktail dresses and some ball gowns, some designer outfits… Stop frowning, I’ll pay for the clothes you’d wear while acting as my date.’
‘I’m not going tobeyour date!’ Millie’s voice rose as they turned into the business entrance to the track.
‘Five hundred thousand pounds.’
Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. ‘Seven fifty?’ he offered. He could carry on inching his way upwards. He was still in petty cash territory.
Millie stared out the window, her shoulders up to her ears and her cheeks cherry red. ‘It was your idea,’ he pointed out.
‘I never thoughtIwould be the star of the show,’ she shot back.
‘You won’t be,’ he told her, fighting his amusement. ‘That’s my job. You would be there to provide a little additional sensible sparkle.’
‘You’re off your head,’ Millie told him as the car pulled to a stop in front of the area allocated to the De Rossi entourage.
Maybe. ‘Well, it’s you or nobody,’ he told her, reaching for the door-handle. He’d learned how to negotiate when he was a kid with his taciturn, ungenerous father, and he’d honed his skills since then. Everyone had a number, and he’d find Millie’s. Florida heat and humidity rolled into the car. ‘Seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds for acting as my girlfriend at five events isn’t a bad deal, Millie.’
‘I think your Shanghai crash addled your brain,’ Millie told him, shoving her iPad and phone into her enormous tote bag.
‘Is that ayes?’ he asked, looking back at her from outside the car.
She pushed her hand through her wayward curls. ‘It’s anI’ll think about it.’
Taz swallowed his grin, knowing he had her. Nobodythoughtabout such a big offer. She’d say yes because it would be the easiest money she’d ever make. And the best he’d ever spend.
