Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
A S A TOWN car drove them through the heart of Buenos Aires, Nina fought off the waves of anxiety that made her chest feel tight and her skin prickle. Preparing to attend Dulce Falco’s wedding and be introduced to Tristan’s entire extended family as his fiancée was quite a jolt back to the reality of their ruse after the past two weeks spent in a bubble of their sensual explorations. Tristan had reassured her more than once that his family would be too thrilled to meet her to suspect the truth, but she was less certain.
On the yacht, it had been only them and the insatiable attraction between them. But from the moment they landed and the Falco family’s small army of assistants appeared with a change of formal clothing for them both, she was reminded that she was very much expected to play a role here in front of people who knew Tristan the best—and she was no actress.
He’d told her they had the wedding’s formal rehearsal dinner to attend the moment they landed, but still she hadn’t been quite prepared for the level of pomp and circumstance surrounding his arrival back into the city. It had been a number of years since he’d visited Argentina, he’d explained quietly as they’d landed, and she’d looked out of the jet window to spy a small crowd of people had lined up around the fence of the runway of the private airfield. If she’d thought Tristan Falco was famous in Europe, it appeared he had an even more godlike status in his home country.
She’d taken her time donning the stretch satin golden sheath gown she’d been given along with matching gold diamond earrings and necklace. The material was a perfect fit, soft and seamless, and she’d smiled, knowing Tristan must have passed along her specifications. When she’d emerged back out onto the main area of the jet, Tristan had been fully dressed in a sleek black tuxedo and talking through their event schedule with his family’s event co-ordinator. He’d seemed distracted as they’d been brought out to the limousine, even as he’d taken a moment to compliment her ensemble before being interrupted once again with some details about the wedding ceremony they would attend the following afternoon.
They hadn’t actually discussed the parameters of their deal, now that they’d ventured into spending each night in one another’s arms. Once the season ended and their three months were up, would she leave the team and become a stranger to him once more? The realisation that he still intended to fulfil his mother’s wish of finding a bride and having a grand wedding had been a stark one on their flight over and she’d spent hours trying not to think of it after Tristan had fallen asleep.
He would find someone easily once she was gone, that much was for certain. But as for her...she couldn’t quite imagine herself ever falling into another man’s arms without comparing them to him. To her first lover. Over the past two weeks, something within her had begun to change and unravel. She’d begun skipping workouts and training exercises in favour of spending as much time as she could in Tristan’s arms. Instead of mulling over circuit layouts and strategies when her mind was idle, she thought about midnight-blue eyes and how his smile lines transformed his entire face when he laughed.
Armed with a wardrobe of gowns for the handful of events over the coming days, Nina reminded herself to be on her guard. The Falco family were the highest of Buenos Aires society, and not only were they old money but they were also fiercely traditional people, which she found out quickly upon being introduced to his grandmother, Valentina, his mother, Dulce, and his soon-to-be stepfather, Agustin, at the extravagant rehearsal dinner being held at an opulent hotel in the heart of the city.
‘You are a racing driver?’ Valentina asked her shrewdly, holding her hand and looking at her face as though trying to peer into her very soul. ‘That little hobby will have to stop after the wedding.’
Nina stiffened, looking up at Tristan beside her as he coughed and immediately intervened.
‘Abuela, Nina is very prominent in the motorsport world. It’s not a hobby. It’s her career,’ he explained gently.
The older woman tutted. ‘That’s too dangerous a career for the mother of your children, my love.’ And with that, the elderly woman walked away.
Tristan looked down at her with a wince. ‘I love my family, but you see now why I don’t come home very often?’ He laughed.
She attempted a laugh of her own, but the interaction shook her. And she felt even more on guard as she was introduced to the rest of the family one by one. His mother was a face she had seen countless times while growing up; Dulce Falco was a worldwide fashion icon. But here in her home city, surrounded by her loved ones, she wore very little make-up and a simple flowing gown of white linen embroidered with traditional Argentinian artwork. She looked rested and peaceful, the antithesis of the sleek, professional fashion mogul that had dominated fashion magazines and social pages for the previous four decades.
‘So, this is the woman who has finally stolen my son’s heart,’ Dulce pronounced as she pulled Nina into a full hug. ‘You are just as beautiful in person as you look whizzing around that racetrack. I’ve watched your last couple of races out of interest, and I’ve got to say—you are ferocious.’
Nina blushed. ‘Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment.’
Dulce waved a hand at the flattery, raising a brow in her son’s direction. ‘So ferocious, in fact, that I wonder why a certain team owner hasn’t ensured that you are the one to lead Falco Roux to victory in this Argentinian Premio race.’
‘Mama, we just landed. At least let a man eat before you begin taking him apart piece by piece.’ Tristan sighed dramatically, then smirked and grabbed his mother in a deep hug.
Nina watched the open affection between mother and son and felt a twinge of jealousy. Any hugs or praise she’d ever received as a child had been veiled in expectation or judgment or had been a simple show for the press. Her parents had been selfish people, driven by their own individual agendas, and watching Tristan interacting with his own family now she could see the difference in how she had been treated. She had always just assumed that every family had their issues, but perhaps her own had been a little more problematic than she’d realised. Perhaps she was a little more affected than she’d realised too.
Much to Tristan’s grandmother’s horror, his mother insisted that Nina and Tristan sleep together in his childhood room once they all returned to the Falco family’s grand town house after the evening of spectacular food and schmoozing was done.
Well, they described it as a room but, in fact, it was more of a penthouse apartment with a master bedroom and a study and a living room that overlooked the entire city of Buenos Aires. With jet lag weighing heavy upon her, she welcomed Tristan’s suggestion that they go straight to bed. But as she followed him slowly into the master bedroom, she found herself pausing in the doorway.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, frowning in the middle of removing his bow tie.
There was nothing wrong, of course. This entire day, the entire past two weeks, had been perfect, but with every moment she spent in his life and in his bed as his fake fiancée the lines of protection she’d drawn around her own heart grew thinner and thinner.
‘I just wonder...if perhaps we should sleep separately.’
‘And why would we do that?’ He took a step towards her, his handsome features tightening with concern. ‘Do you want to sleep separately?’
‘No, of course not.’ She shook her head.
He reached her side in a few easy strides, his hands sliding up her bare arms and coming to rest upon her cheeks. ‘Then let’s not,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘I feel like I’ve barely touched you since we landed, and we’ve barely had a moment alone. I’ve been counting down the moments till I had you all to myself again. Sleep here, where you belong. With me.’
She ignored how his words made something deep within her chest sing with joy, telling herself that he simply meant he didn’t wish to sleep alone. Truthfully, neither did she. She’d thought about it over and over and if she had to choose between ending this now for the sake of self-preservation or risking her heart for a few more weeks of pleasure, she’d choose the latter. Even if it hurt, at least she’d know she had him, even just for a little while.
‘There won’t be much sleeping if I’m in bed with you.’ She laughed, then gasped as his lips slid down to the most sensitive part of her neck.
‘Get into bed, let me debauch you a little. Then you can sleep.’
And so she did, ignoring the alarm bells going off in her mind as she imagined this was a real love affair and her real fiancé was making love to her in his childhood bedroom while they tried to keep quiet. She let Tristan’s touch still her overactive mind as his attempt at letting her sleep turned into slow, languorous lovemaking that carried on well into the night.
Tristan walked his mother down the aisle to marry the man she loved so dearly, who had made her so happy, and was proud to say that only the smallest tear slid down his cheek as he placed his mother’s hands into the shaking one of his stepfather. Agustin leaned across and placed a kiss upon his stepson’s cheek, whispering words of thanks into his ear. As Tristan sat down beside Nina, she quickly gripped his hand in hers and he realised that she too was feeling the emotion as his mother gave an impassioned speech about the longevity of love and how short people’s time together in this world was.
The celebration that followed was one of the grandest that their home had ever seen and Tristan revelled in having all of his relations together under one roof. They feasted like kings, with a famous local chef having been hired to create a unique twist on the traditional wedding buffet of carne asada , roasted pigs and freshly prepared fish. Empanadas , provoleta and chimichurri were also in abundance, along with copious bottles of the famous Falco reserve Malbec, some of which Nina sampled with gusto despite technically still being deep in her training regime as a reserve for the race the following weekend.
After Dulce and Agustin completed a beautiful first dance, they urged Tristan and Nina to join them and what followed was possibly the most hilarious attempt at instructing his fiancée in the Argentine tango. She begged him to stop, but eventually devolved into laughter as he careened her around the dance floor to the tune of the band’s dramatic music. Their guests laughed heartily at the display, and as he looked down into Nina’s sparkling eyes, he was helpless to do anything except capture her lips in a deep kiss. She kissed him back, despite the loud tutting from his grandmother, and his mother whooped loudly with delight.
When his stepfather asked to take Nina for a dance, Tristan took his mother to sit down and rest her weary feet. He guided her to the side of the open-air dance floor, where they sat together and Tristan watched as Nina bravely attempted a simple waltz.
‘Good thing her driving isn’t impeded by her two left feet.’ His mother laughed good-naturedly.
Tristan smiled. ‘She’s making a great attempt though, to her credit. She’s a perfectionist, so admitting her faults is hard for her. I’m not sure she knows she doesn’t have many of them, though.’
He turned to find his mother looking at him with a strange smile on her face.
‘I was going to wait until my wedding festivities were over to have this conversation with you, but I see now that I should probably just get it out of the way.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Tristan asked.
‘Nothing, at least I hope not. When you told me you were engaged to a woman I’d never heard you mention to me, or even seen you photographed with, naturally I was a little suspicious. So I did some digging... And I discovered your little PR dilemma and realised what you’d done in coming up with this little deception.’
Tristan frowned. ‘You did, did you?’
‘I know you better than anyone. I know when something is off...so, you see, I was preparing myself for your acting skills—and hers too. I’d already written my speech, about why lying to your mother in her old age is a despicable act, even if I knew you’d have some kind of ridiculously guilt-ridden good intentions at heart.’
‘Mama.’ Tristan turned in his seat, wanting to explain himself.
She raised her hand to stop him, then placed it firmly upon his knee, meeting his eyes. ‘My son, I was waiting to see how far you would go with this ruse just to please me. But now that I’ve seen you together, I can see that you’ve dug yourself into a much deeper hole than you had intended.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
She smiled knowingly, looking up as her new husband twirled Nina in a circle and her laugh rang out across the dance floor. ‘I think you know exactly what I mean, darling. She’s perfect for you. You are both so madly in love with each other. I think perhaps we should have saved today’s wedding for you.’
Tristan thought about the idea of walking Nina down the aisle today, while his entire family looked on. The sensation in his chest was one of absolute primal possession and the need to see that happen. Was it true? Had he fallen in love with his fake fiancée? He, the wildest playboy, a man utterly allergic to commitment... But then again that wasn’t quite true, was it? He had never openly courted the idea of settling down, but he hadn’t been averse to it, once upon a time.
It was only since watching his beloved uncle deteriorate into a man he didn’t recognise, and seeing the utter devastation that came with losing the one you loved, that Tristan had made some kind of subconscious decision not to forge any more connections of his own in case he got just as badly hurt. Not even Gabriela had touched his heart that deeply. He realised now that it had been only his pride that was stung by her and Victor’s betrayal.
‘Tristan... I want you to be happy. You deserve a great love just like the one that I once had with your father. And like the one I have now, since I finally let myself be loved again. I’ve watched you hide yourself away over the past decade since your uncle’s death, blaming yourself for not being able to reach him through his depression, and trying to put yourself in a glass cage of sorts, where your heart could be seen but not touched by anyone.’
‘Mama, please let’s not talk about this today.’
‘If not today, then when?’ she asked firmly. ‘I lost my brother that day, just as you lost your father figure, but ever since then I’ve felt like I’ve only had half of you too. Then Gabriela and Victor dented your smile even more, and I could have killed them. I didn’t invite them here today because I thought it would be painful for you. I want you to know that you matter most to me and even though you keep telling me you’re fine, I know you. But now, this beautiful girl...she’s reawakened something within you that’s been lost for a long time, my love. She’s brought you back to life.’
His mother’s words rang in his ears long after the dancing had come to an end and their guests had begun to filter out. Soon, the only ones left were him and Nina, all alone in the dim lighting as the servers moved to clear away the chairs and tables.
‘We should go up too,’ Nina said, her cheeks still pink from the exertion of her night’s dancing attempts. She wore a spectacular gown in deep red, a gown made for tango, and so when the low strains of music filtered up from a speaker in the main house, he pulled her close for one last dance of his own.
‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered against her cheek, sliding them into an easy movement.
‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ She laughed, sighing when he dipped her back in the lamplight in a classic tango pose. ‘I wish I were better at this. I wish I could do it for real.’
She was talking about the dance, of course, but something in Tristan’s chest tightened at her words and what they evoked within him. ‘You can...if you take a chance.’
‘I think it has more to do with practice and skill.’ She raised a brow.
He rolled her over his arm, stepping around her and pulling her back up against his chest. ‘This is a dance about trust, about passion.’
‘And speed and precision too, surely,’ she argued, her foot stepping squarely upon his and making him wince.
‘That too.’ He chuckled, lowering her slowly over his arm so that her back arched and her breath caught. ‘But mostly...it’s about giving in to your deepest desires...letting go of all restraint and trusting your partner enough to catch you when you do.’
They stood for a long moment in the pose, with Nina’s eyes not leaving his as he slowly pulled her back up to standing.
‘I want to let go,’ she whispered softly. ‘I want to believe that I can...that it won’t just lead me to a path of regrets. But I’ve never been a good partner...in the dance, I mean.’
He looked into her eyes, knowing that she hadn’t just been talking about the dance, just as he hadn’t either. But he couldn’t think of the right words to say without sounding entirely mad. Trust me, Nina. Stay with me. Marry me.
He closed his eyes, remembering how important her racing career was to her, how she’d said she never wanted to be seen as a society princess, like her mother. She was still young, quite a bit younger than him. He had been her first lover, for goodness’ sake. Marriage and motherhood were likely long-term goals for her, if they were even on her radar at all. Surely he was being selfish by wanting to keep her?
Not to mention he had yet to reveal the truth behind his deal with her brother. Non-disclosure agreement or not, he had to be fully honest with her if he had any chance of proposing they keep their arrangement going past the end of the season. Would she ever be able to forgive him for keeping secrets from her? Would she understand why he’d done it and that it had been the only way to save the Roux company from bankruptcy and complete collapse? He’d stayed silent, according to the conditions of the NDA, but it had become increasingly difficult as the guilt had started eating him up inside. And now he’d run out of time.
But he had to try. He had to hope that once Nina understood the full implications of his actions, she’d forgive him. Because he knew now with full certainty that, despite everything standing against them, it was the only thing he wanted.
He wanted Nina Roux in his life for real.
The Falco Aerodrome was an impressive new circuit that had been purpose-built for this year’s Elite One Premio race by Tristan himself, which he proudly talked her through as they took a tour of the paddock. Nina had noticed that Tristan had seemed extra attentive in the two days since the wedding, but she’d put it down to the abundance of amazing sex they’d been having. But with the race now only a few days away, she knew she had to get back to her routine as soon as possible and try to regain her focus.
When Tristan was called into a meeting up in the executive boardrooms, she took the chance to take a tour of the Falco Roux garages where their team had already begun to set up in preparation for the upcoming race weekend. She was in the middle of inspecting an upgrade she’d overseen on their engine injection system when footsteps pounded down the tarmac outside and a man appeared in her peripheral vision. She stood up, expecting to see one of their mechanics, but instead froze with recognition.
Her brother stood in the entryway of the garage, his dark hair and eyes so like her own as he looked awkwardly around before stepping inside.
‘Alain.’ She gasped in shock. ‘What...what are you doing here?’
‘Falco stopped answering my calls, and I needed to speak to you about this in person.’
Her stomach tightened at the look on her brother’s face, all elation at seeing him melting away. He wasn’t here to apologise to her for what he’d done or even to cheer their team on. He was here with the exact same look on his face as he’d had on the day when he’d told her about the sale of the Roux company.
‘What would you need to speak to Tristan about?’ she said coldly. ‘You already walked away from all of this, Alain. You abandoned ship.’
Alain sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that reminded her so much of their father. He was like him in many ways.
‘He hasn’t told you anything about the deal we made yet, has he?’
‘I know how easily you sold our family company to him for a tidy sum, practically bankrupting me in the process. I trusted you. I thought you were trying to save the company, not ruin it.’
Alain shook his head, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. ‘I never went to him with the intention of selling. We were going to go bankrupt whether I sold or not. You have to believe that I wanted to save our family’s legacy, Nina. Your legacy. I know I’ve made so many mistakes.’
‘Understatement of the year,’ Nina muttered.
‘You’re angry at me, and that’s fair. But I’m not the man you knew any more—the party boy, the wastrel. My recovery has taught me to accept the consequences of my actions and I guess now is the time I start doing that.’
Recovery? The consequences of his actions? Who on earth was this man and where was her brother? ‘What are you not telling me?’
‘The company was in bad shape when I took over from dad, but I made it all worse. I got into serious debt, Nina. Gambling debt. I refused to admit that I had a problem, until I got into a very high-stakes poker game with Tristan Falco.’ Alain shook his head, walking as if to go towards the small bar at the wall before turning away with a hiss of breath. ‘Old habits...’
Nina looked at her brother then, really looked at him and saw how much weight he’d lost since she’d last seen him. He looked...healthy. Not like a man who’d been partying on a yacht in the Mediterranean for the entire summer. His eyes were clear, he was clean-shaven and well dressed and, above all, he appeared sober.
Much like with their mother and father, the tradition of excessive partying, including drinking and gambling, among other vices, was not generally spoken of in their family. Nothing was mentioned other than clothing styles and newspaper articles and how they appeared to the outside world. They were a rotten apple with the prettiest, shiniest skin.
‘That was my rock-bottom, Nina. I bet our family company in a poker game.’
‘How could that be true? How would no one know?’
‘Because Tristan took pity on me. He agreed to stage it as a takeover, and we signed a non-disclosure agreement to keep it all under wraps. He gave me a year to sort myself out. He cut a deal, to freeze our shares while he took control of the majority and worked on bringing the company back to solvency. He always intended to give it back.’
She reared back, totally shocked. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘I still don’t know. He said he had a sentimental attachment to the brand.’
Instantly she recalled the garage full of Roux motorcars his uncle had collected, and she ran an agitated hand through her hair.
Alain was still talking. ‘I think the guy just has a hero complex, to be quite honest. Who was I to argue? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. He got me into a discreet programme. There is an island off Greece that’s notorious for helping wealthy addicts get clean while also forcing us back to our humble roots. I’ve cleaned beaches, I’ve power-washed streets, I’ve helped the homeless... At some point I finally accepted that I am an addict and that I always will be, but that doesn’t make me a lost cause.’
She felt a painful tweak at what he’d been struggling with. ‘Alain, I never thought you were a lost cause. I know we fought but that doesn’t mean I don’t still love you.’
‘Nina, please, this isn’t even the beginning of me making amends with you. I was so selfish. I don’t know how our parents didn’t ruin you too, but you are such a good person. You didn’t deserve any of that.’
‘Neither did you.’
That simple, brief acknowledgement of their shared childhood pain felt like a knife sliding out from her ribs a few inches. She knew that there was more to be said between them, much more, but perhaps here and now was not the time. She still had to wrap her head around what Tristan had done...and what he’d been keeping from her.
‘Why tell me now?’
‘I saw the rumours of your engagement to Falco on social media and I just saw red. I don’t understand what kind of game he’s playing with you, but as soon as I could leave Greece, I had to come. To protect you.’
She looked over Alain’s shoulder to see Tristan striding towards them, a stunned look on his face. Tristan, the man who had been lying to her all along... Or perhaps she’d simply been lying to herself about the kind of man she’d thought he was? She felt like such a fool. Excusing herself to Alain, she took the coward’s way out and fled.