The Playboy and the Single Mum (Vintage Love Book 2) (12 page)

“So you should realize how special you are to me.”

“More likely I’m a novelty. Once the excitement wears off, you’ll realize I’m pretty boring and you’ll move on to someone new.” Damn, that even hurt to say. But she’d managed it without a waver in her voice.
Now, if I can just hold back the tears until I hit the shower.

Daniel leapt from the bed.

“I’m not a player. I thought you knew me by now.”

God, this was not how she wanted today to go. They had a long, long flight to Texas. If he was angry with her, it would be unbearable. But she wasn’t one to hide from the truth. She was a novelty, different from the women he normally associated with. She knew that. Soon he would, too.

“Daniel, don’t leave angry,” she said as he pulled on his trousers. “Come back to bed, or we can go for breakfast with Max and Genevieve.”

He continued to dress, not looking at her. “No. I need to be alone for a while. I’ll meet you here at your suite at ten tonight and we’ll go to the airport together. That is, of course, if you’re willing to risk being seen with me under the cover of darkness.”

“For God’s sake, Daniel, you’re behaving like Max.” She sat up but kept the sheet clutched to her naked chest. Without his body heat, the bed already felt cold.

“Well, you know what they say about men, we’re just boys with bigger toys.”

He tugged on his shoes and then left. She heard him talking to Max for a minute before the door to the hallway shut behind him.

That had not been part of the script. She checked her phone. Another message of congratulations from her boss on Daniel being caught literally with his hands full last night. He reminded her of the fifty grand bonus if she kept Daniel on the straight and narrow, or, in this case, the wild and horny. As Daniel had predicted, Mr. Petersen had no idea the woman in the photo was her. He was probably still of the opinion that Alexandra Camparelli couldn’t attract a man like Daniel Michaud. Well, she’d proven him wrong. Attracting hadn’t been an issue. If only she had a reasonable shot at holding on to him. But hadn’t her mother always told her not to get too attached to an attractive man? And they didn’t come better-looking than Daniel.

Later that afternoon, when Max had his nap, Lexy tried to lie down as well. But she couldn’t sleep. She looked at the Internet photos of her and Daniel. Her hair had obscured her face, but other bits of her were definitely showing. Thankfully, the rest of the partygoers had held the line and not divulged her name. So she’d simply been dubbed conquest number twenty-six. It sickened her that someone was keeping tabs.

The image of her mother’s face when they’d walked in on her father having sex all those decades ago flashed into her mind. Would that be Lexy in a few years if she stayed with Daniel, if that was even an option? Would she end up like her mother, heartbroken, with no desire to carry on?

You’ll never keep a good-looking man
.

No, this thing with Daniel was an affair; there was no future in it. After Abu Dhabi, they’d part. She only hoped that maybe they could stay friends.

Yeah, right. She wasn’t capable of that much detachment.

By the time Daniel knocked on the door at ten p.m., her anxiety level was at DEFCON 1. Wesley was going to find them and take Max away. Daniel was going to realize she was just a boring woman with a kid and move on. And Lexy would systematically eat her way through the entire Ben & Jerry’s ice cream collection.

Max was making a valiant effort to stay awake, clutching Dude’s bowl, which nearly slid from his grasp twice. Lexy took the fish away and Max began to howl.
God, I can’t even get this right.

“Here, let me,” Daniel said. He scooped Max up with one arm and relieved her of the fishbowl with the other hand. Genevieve was busy making sure they hadn’t left any of Max’s toys. They’d arrived with three bags and were leaving with seven, thanks mostly to her father, who felt he had to make up for every missed Christmas and birthday in one go. If this rate of accumulation continued for the entire trip, they’d need a jumbo jet to get them home.

“Genevieve, did you get Max’s asthma inhaler from the bedside table?” Lexy asked as her gaze did one last sweep of the room. She’d forgotten something, she knew it. Probably her mind.

“Got it,” Genevieve confirmed.

Somehow they managed to get to the airport, through immigration, and onto the plane without mishap. Max was asleep before the landing gear was up, and Genevieve’s eyes were closed, her seat fully reclined.

“There’s a bed through that door.” Daniel inclined his head toward the rear of the plane. “You’ll be more comfortable in there.”

“You take it—you’re taller. You won’t get an ounce of sleep in these chairs.”

“Lexy…” He glanced at Genevieve and then closed his mouth.

Lexy stood, held out her hand, and went with him into the bedroom. As soon as the door was closed, however, he dropped her hand and stood by the door.

“Daniel, this morning … this thing with you”—she waved her hand in the air as though the words were somewhere in the vicinity and she could knock them into her mouth—“it’s way more intense than I ever imagined. However, as fantastic as it is and as crazy as I am about you I can’t see a future for us. I don’t want to end up like my mother.”

He sat next to her on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting this either. I thought we could just have some fun between the sheets while we’re together. But somewhere along the line it’s become more than that to me. What more, I don’t know. Give us time, Lexy, to figure this out together. Don’t retire from the race until we’ve exhausted all the options.”

“I should never have entered the race in the first place. For God’s sake, I don’t even drive.” She should have ignored the chemistry between them and just done her job. Now she was in danger of exchanging a food addiction for a Daniel obsession.

“We can’t go back to just colleagues now. Not after what we’ve shared. Let’s take this thing to the end.”

The end of my sanity?

“What do you mean?”

“We test drive this relationship until we decide if it’s right for us.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then we part ways at least knowing we tried.”

And risk a shattered heart. But what choice did she have now? He was right; she’d never be able to see him as just an assignment again. “Okay. But this is between us. No one else can know. We have to keep our relationship secret.”

“That’s—”

“Non-negotiable.”

He looked at the ceiling for a moment then finally shrugged. “All right, if you insist. I talked with the pilot and we can’t make the trip to Texas in one go. We have to stop for fuel several times and for them to rest. I have a little house in the Philippines. It’s secluded, and no one will know where we are except the local population. Why don’t we hole up there for a few days and enjoy ourselves without worrying about anyone seeing us. Max will love the beach.”

Put off Texas for three days? Yes, please. Spend those three days with Daniel without worrying about being seen? Abso-bloomin-lutely.

“Sounds like a great plan.”

Finally he smiled, and her heart ratcheted up another fifty beats per minute.

She would undoubtedly crash out completely before the end of the race. But until then she was going to enjoy every single thrill.

Lexy strode down pit lane, clutching a computer tablet and trying to look official in her dove- gray suit. Except she still glowed from three days of complete heaven at Daniel’s place in the Philippines. She’d expected a small shack. She got a lovely four-bedroom modern-style house with a private beach and staff to cook, clean, and basically find anything she needed.

Max had loved the beach. He’d been out there as soon as his breakfast was done and had had to be persuaded to come in for dinner. Genevieve had been a saint and kept him occupied with building sandcastles and playing pirate, so that Lexy could spend her time concentrating on Daniel. And vice versa. He’d pampered her, even painted her toenails, and made love to her in every possible location. If she’d had a sexual bucket list, she could now throw away the bucket. Although she had to admit, sex on the beach was a better drink than place to make love. She was sure she still had sand where sand should never be.

No matter what happened between now and the end of the season, she’d forever remember that time as the best in her life. However, as with all great things, it had to end, and they’d been in Texas for five days. To build Formula 1’s fan base in the States, the drivers had all been required to do extra publicity and attend a variety of events—some formal, some easy-going like barbecues and fan rides in two-seater race cars.

Lexy had stayed as far in the background as possible. It was still a bone of contention between her and Daniel. He wanted her by his side; she wanted their affair to remain a secret. To be honest, it irked her no end to see so many women throw themselves at him. It wasn’t his fault he was gorgeous and charming and sexy. Still, she wanted to grab the women vying for his attention by the hair and scream, “He’s mine, so back off.” Except she couldn’t. And that irritated her more. All in all, she was a cactus in a bag being swung by an irate toddler. One wrong move and someone was going to get an arse full of prickles.

To top it all off there’d been another message from her boss, worrying over the lack of photos of Daniel with women. She’d emailed back that Daniel was working, so he couldn’t party every day. But that hadn’t appeased Mr. Petersen. He talked about flying out for the race. Would he call her bluff?

But all that had nothing on the fear that her ex-husband would show up out of the blue. Wesley’s picture was in almost every paper as his father campaigned for the Republican nomination to run for president. Thankfully, Wesley had never shown any interest in Formula 1 during their brief marriage, and if she could leave Texas without him knowing she’d been there, she’d be able to breathe a hell of a lot easier.

Near the Ferrari garage she caught up with her father, who had just flown in that morning. Qualifying would start soon and she was going to watch it with him back at the hotel. She was way too emotional to stay on track, where everyone would see her feelings for Daniel. As well as she’d been able to conceal them so far, she knew when he was racing around the circuit it would be near impossible to hide how much she cared.

“Are you ready to go?” Papa asked after they exchanged kisses.

“Yes, I just wanted to wish Daniel good luck first,” Lexy said as she looked around for her lover. Seemed he had the same idea because he was standing at the entrance to his garage, scanning the crowd as well. She waved to him and he rushed over.

She put a hand on his shoulder and then stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. The click of a digital camera alerted her to the paparazzi. Shit.

Daniel whipped his head around and glared at the photographer until he moved away. Damn, she didn’t want Daniel to go into qualifying mad.

“I’ll wait for our debriefing in our usual location,” she said, using her best business voice in case anyone was listening.

“I trust it will be an in-depth, intense debriefing?” Daniel replied, his face creasing into his gorgeous smile.

Her breath caught in her throat and her voice came out way too sexy. “Of course. I’m very thorough.”

She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation in front of her father. Her face must be approaching Ferrari red about now.

“I look forward to our meeting. It’s good to see you again, Gian-Franco.” The two men shook hands, although the real communication was in their eyes: her father warning him to tread carefully with his daughter, Daniel’s saying he was doing the best he could. Another photographer snapped several photos of the three of them. Thank God Max was at the hotel with Genevieve.

In the end, Daniel only took second position on the grid, each of his laps compromised by some small error. She hurried to his room, anxious to get there before the rest of the F1 crews returned to the hotel and spotted her. How could she ease his frustration? She knew he worried that their relationship would affect his driving. And now it seemed it had. Would he even want to see her?

As she rounded the corner to his room, she was blinded by flashes of light. What the hell?

A throng of reporters rushed toward her, some snapping photos as they went, others holding their phones up to catch her every word.

“Alexandra, how long have you and Daniel Michaud been lovers?”

“Are you brokering a deal for Daniel to drive for Ferrari next year?”

“Are you the mother of Daniel’s love-child? Who’s the boy travelling with you?”

The questions came at her like missiles, each one hitting its mark.

“Are you in love with him?”

“Have you set a wedding date yet?”

“You were missing for three days between Russia and Texas. Where were you?”

“What does Gian-Franco think of his daughter dating a driver from a rival team?”

“Are you leaking secrets between the teams?”

She clapped her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to stop the questions. The pack hounded her down the hallway until she made it back to her room. Thank God she’d insisted that she and Daniel have separate rooms, even though they spent every night together.

Heart pounding, she pulled out her phone to send a text to Daniel to warn him of the media maelstrom. A message popped up from her boss: Look on the Internet. Pick me up at the airport at 11.30 a.m. tomorrow.

Her hands shook so much it took two goes to enter her name into the search engine.

“Daniel Michaud’s Mystery Lover Revealed” followed by photos of her and Daniel in Russia, and the ones just taken on the grid that afternoon. But what stalled her heart was a photo of Daniel carrying Max out of the hotel in Sochi. “They even have a son!”

She had to get Max out of here now.

***

Daniel strode through the hotel lobby, still in his racing overalls. Lexy’s text had sounded frantic, and it had been the first of many messages he’d received on the breaking “news.” He had to reassure his team principal that he wasn’t signing with Ferrari for next year. Although it was probably every driver’s dream to race the red cars at least once in their career. That dream would die a quick death if he screwed this up, whatever it was, with Lexy.

Was it a good thing their relationship was finally out in the open? He’d hated all the sneaking around and having to fake interest in other women when his whole body was consumed with her. He’d never known a physical relationship could bring with it so much emotional satisfaction. Or was it the other way around? But now the speculation on his performance would include questions as to whether he was distracted by his personal life. Questions that were already echoing through his head. He was off his game this weekend as it was. This was only going to make it worse.

He approached the concierge desk and requested that they send security up to clear his floor of reporters. They’d probably have to make some sort of statement to calm things down, but he wanted to know how Lexy felt it should be played. The hint that they had a child together was going to be the most devastating. She’d already been on edge enough in her ex-husband’s home state. Chances were she’d be packed and gone before sunset.

As he headed toward the bank of elevators a tall, thin man put a hand on his shoulder. Daniel shrugged it off and turned to glare at the guy. He looked closely at the man again. They’d met briefly at a corporate reception earlier in the week. One that Lexy had refused to attend. As Daniel struggled to remember his name, he realized the man had the same color eyes as Max.
Dieu
, this couldn’t be Lexy’s ex, could it?

“I am Wesley Harding the third,” the guy said.

Three things flashed through Daniel’s head instantaneously: Lexy had lied to him about who she’d been married to; he wanted to punch out the lights of the man who had treated Lexy so abysmally; and he needed to keep Lexy and Max safe. Beating this asshole probably wouldn’t accomplish the last one, so Daniel put it on the shelf for the moment. Besides, blood was damn hard to get out of his overalls.

As much as it made his gut churn, he had to behave. “What can I do for you, Mr. Harding? I’m rather busy.”

“I understand you know Alexandra Camparelli.”

Given their photos splashed all over the Internet, there was no point denying it. “We’re colleagues working on a project.”

“According to my newsfeed, you’re more than that. As one rich man to another, I feel the need to warn you. She’s a gold-digger. Took me for a cool million. I don’t know what hooks that gal’s got into you, but get out now while you’re still solvent.”

Lexy had not only lied about having been married to a nobody, but also about her divorce settlement. Daniel’s chest burned like the worst case of acid reflux he’d ever had. It took effort to breathe. “I’ll listen to Alexandra’s side of the story, but thanks for the heads-up.”

“She’s a real smart girl, that one. If y’all don’t believe me, ask my money people. They cut her the check.” Wesley followed Daniel across the lobby. No way was he going to have this conversation with Lexy with her ex in tow.

Before he could excuse himself, an elevator door opened and Lexy rushed out, Max in her arms with a Ferrari ball cap pulled way down over his brow. It should have pleased Daniel that she wore his team’s hat, but he was too caught up with the sheer panic on her face. Genevieve hurried behind, dragging a suitcase.

“Mr. Harding, why don’t we get a drink and you can tell me what happened,” Daniel said, trying to distract the man so Lexy could make her escape. Too late. Wesley caught sight of her and stepped into her path.

“Holy shit. Is that my boy?” Shock kept Wesley’s voice low. Even so, several people stopped to watch the little drama playing out in the lobby.

Daniel stepped between Lexy and her ex. “If you don’t want this entire conversation aired on the evening news, I suggest we take this discussion somewhere private.” He put a hand on Wesley’s arm to prevent him coming any closer to Lexy.

“I have nothing to say to him,” Lexy replied. Daniel’s stomach fell. Any hope that she didn’t know this guy evaporated at her words. How could she not tell him she’d married into one of America’s heavyweight political families? Wesley Harding III did not count as “no one important.”

“Alexandra, is that my son?”

She shifted Max to her other hip, farther away from his father. Camera phones were out now, recording the scene.

“Lexy, Wesley, look around,” Daniel said as quietly as he could. It broke them out of their stare-down, and for the first time they noticed the audience.

“Oh, God.” Lexy paled and Daniel put an arm around her.

The concierge appeared at his side. “Mr. Harding, Mr. Michaud, our business center is currently empty if you’d like some privacy. It’s just this way.” He directed them to an office to the left of the lobby.

Lexy had such a tight hold on Max, the little boy struggled to breathe. Daniel took him out of her arms, but still he wheezed. “Lexy, where’s Max’s inhaler?” While she searched in her bag, Daniel turned to the concierge. “Get a bottle of water. And a whiskey,” he added after glancing at Lexy’s face. All her nightmares were coming to light in one afternoon. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But at this point, he’d probably be lying.

Finally finding the asthma medicine, Lexy gave it to Max. Within a minute his breathing became easier. “Genevieve, take Max back upstairs. Call us immediately if he has another attack,” Daniel instructed.

“Wait one dad-gum minute—” Wesley began as he moved to block the door.

“Touch the boy or his mother and that’s the last thing you’ll do,” Daniel threatened.

Wesley moved aside, his gaze never leaving Max’s face as Genevieve took him from Daniel. He opened the door at the same time the concierge returned with the drinks. “Please have security escort Ms. Dubois and the child back to her room,” Daniel said then handed the bottle of water to Max, the whiskey to Lexy, and shut the door again. With her son safely out of the room, Lexy sank into a chair.

“Alexandra, why the hell didn’t you tell me I had a child? Momma never would have insisted on a divorce if she knew you were carrying her grandchild. And you should have named him Wesley. You know that’s the tradition in my family.” Wesley leaned over the table but made no move to get closer to her.

“His name is Maximillian Camparelli. And he’s my son. Not yours.” Lexy slung back the whiskey, returning color to her cheeks.

Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you had sexual relations with another man while you were married to me?”