“It’s always been that way on the track, Faith. You never know what will happen. It’s part of the challenge.”
She clutched his shirt. She was afraid for him, especially now that she knew how much Niccolo Gavretti hated him. “But it’s too dangerous now. Maybe you should retire from the circuit. Let someone else do this.”
She felt him stiffen and knew she’d said the wrong thing. He pushed her back, holding her at arm’s length, and glared at her.
“I’m not retiring, cara. Not until I’ve won.”
Her vision was growing blurry, but she no longer cared if she cried or not. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? It’s your life we’re talking about. How many times do you need to win before you’ll be satisfied? How many times do you need to prove yourself?”
He turned and went over to the liquor cabinet, poured brandy into a glass. Then he set it down without drinking it, put both his hands on the cabinet, and stood with his back to her for a long moment.
Faith wrapped her arms around herself. She’d gone so far now, way over the line maybe, but for the first time since she’d started to fall for him, she felt as if she’d done the right thing. As if she’d been herself instead of who she thought he wanted her to be. It felt good—and frightening at the same time.
“One more time, Faith,” he said. He turned and faced her, his eyes glittering hot. “I need to win one more time.”
She sniffled. “Is that one more race or one more championship?”
“You know what it is.”
She did. He meant he wanted to win another championship. Eighteen grueling races against a field of competitors who might be just as determined as he was. And who were certainly healthier.
“I’m not sure I can take it,” she said softly, truthfully. How could she sit in those stands and watch him each time, her heart in her throat while she waited for something to go wrong?
“I’ve crashed before. I’ll probably crash again. It’s part of the sport, cara.” He picked up the brandy and took a sip. “The goal is not to crash badly. To get up and walk away.”
She bit her trembling lip. “And just how are you supposed to do that when you can’t even walk without pain most of the time?”
His head snapped up, his nostrils flaring. “I’m fine, Faith. My leg only hurts when the muscles knot. Which is not most of the time.”
Faith swore. “That’s a lie, Renzo, and you know it. I massage it nightly for you. You practically live with an ice pack in the evenings. You’re hurting and you’re too stubborn to admit you have a problem. You might lie to everyone else, but don’t lie to me.”
“You go too far,” he bit out.
“Do I? I sometimes think I don’t go far enough!”
“That’s enough, Miss Black,” he snapped.
She recoiled as if he’d hit her. And then she gathered herself up, stood straight and tall and glared at him. She knew where she stood with him. Where she would always stand.
“You told me that I didn’t trust people, and you were right. But you’re a hypocrite, you know that? You don’t trust anyone, either. You refuse to let anyone get close to you. You keep everyone at a distance. You cycle through relationships like you cycle through racing leathers. I knew it,” she said angrily. “And I was still dumb enough to fall for you.”
“We are lovers, not soul mates,” he said coolly. “If you expected this from me, I am sorry.”
“You aren’t,” she snapped. “You’re only sorry you didn’t get the chance to throw me out before I walked away.”
He took a step toward her, stopped. Faith’s heart was breaking. She’d gone much further over the edge than she’d intended, but it was too late to stop now.
“We’ll go to bed,” he told her. “Sleep. Tomorrow, everything will look different.”
She shook her head. “It won’t. Nothing will change the facts. You are injured and you won’t admit it, and you intend to kill yourself on the track. I can’t stand by and watch you, Renzo. I won’t.”
“Are you threatening to quit, Faith?”
She snorted. “Quit? Is that how you see this? That I’m quitting my job?”
His jaw tightened. “You can’t abandon me right before the season starts. I need you.”
Those three words punctured her heart. He didn’t need her. He only needed the efficient PA by his side, nothing more. They’d had sex and he’d enjoyed her, but he didn’t love her. And he never would.
“My God, my stupidity never ends,” she said, half to herself. “I didn’t learn my lesson with Jason. I’m just as gullible and needy as I was then. And I want to believe that the man asking me to give him a piece of myself cares for me when I know he doesn’t.”
“We’re good together,” he said. “This doesn’t need to end.”
She laughed, the sound broken and bitter. “Doesn’t it? I won’t watch you crash and burn, Renzo. I won’t be there waiting for something to happen, waiting for them to haul you away in an ambulance because you’re too proud to admit you can’t do this any longer.” She reached for her wrap, shrugged into it blindly. “I’m done. I can’t do this.”
She fled toward the door, intending to escape into the Florentine night, to get as far away as she could, but he caught her before she could, turned her with rough hands.
His face was livid. “You aren’t leaving me, Faith. I won’t let you leave me.”
“Then tell me you’ll quit,” she begged. “Tell me you’ll stop this insanity and let someone else race the Viper.”
He let her go abruptly and she shot a hand out to steady herself against the wall.
“I won’t play this game with you,” he said harshly.
“It’s not a game,” she cried. “I love you, and I don’t want to lose you—” She stopped speaking when she realized what she’d said. What she’d revealed.
Renzo stood there before her, looking so cold and cruel. So removed, as if he’d already detached himself from the situation. Which, of course, he had. He’d had a lot of practice, hadn’t he?
“I won’t stop, Faith.” His eyes glittered hot. “If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to.”
She could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks. She’d just told him she loved him, and he didn’t say anything. Or, he did say something, but something designed to use that love against her.
She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “Jason said the same thing, did you know that? He said that if I loved him, I would do what he wanted me to do.”
She hadn’t had sex with him because she’d been young and scared, but she’d felt the pressure of those words. Felt them so deeply that she made the stupid decision to take that picture for him. To try and appease him.
She would never allow herself to cave in to that kind of pressure again, no matter the cost.
Renzo looked furious. “You can’t compare this to what happened eight years ago. I’ve never asked you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I’ve never threatened you if you didn’t. You’ve made your own choices.”
“And I have to keep making them,” she said. “I can’t stay and watch you go on that track and worry every time that it will be the last.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets.