The Moretti Seduction by Katherine Garbera Page B

driver in Grand Prix history.
    “Will you be running the Vallerio Roadster in any rally races?” Emile asked.
    “That is our hope. We’d like to use it at the 24 hours of Le Mans,” Dom said.
    Emile stepped forward and ran his hand along the edge of the racing car. Antonio wondered if the other man had ever wanted to be a driver like Pierre-Henri. From his own perspective he knew that not everyone inherited the desire to drive at top speeds.
    “This is a fine machine. Even my father could never find fault with your F1 program.”
    “That is at the root of our company and something vital to Moretti Motors. We will always preserve this first, which is the main reason we are reissuing the Vallerio Roadster. We want to pay tribute to those who helped build the Moretti name to the heights it once enjoyed and will enjoy again.”
    “We want the same thing for the Vallerio name. My father shouldn’t drop into obscurity,” Emile said.
    “If you are reasonable,” Antonio said, “I’m sure that we will be able to come to an acceptable arrangement.”

    Nathalie convinced her father and sister that she needed time alone that evening to think over the proposal that Antonio had outlined. In truth she’d already made notes and recommendations to the board of the directors and had an e-mail ready to send to them in the morning. Feeling very much like a teenager, she got dressed and snuck out of the hotel to meet Antonio.
    She wore a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a button-down white blouse that made her feel very American. She draped one of her favorite scarves over her head and took the stairs instead of the lift to the first floor. Instead of hailing a cab out front, she walked the short block to the Metro station and found the proper train to Duomo.
    She couldn’t wait to see Antonio again. To be with him away from the pressures of their families. She rubbed the spot on her breast where Antonio had left his mark.
    She felt she was doing something illicit and daring. And it was out of character for the straitlaced business-focused woman she’d always been.
    She walked through the Piazza del Duomo. The crowds of people were a nice buffer and helped her to feel anonymous as she walked to the cathedral. She stood on the steps where she and Antonio had been the night before. Looking up at the wedding-cake perfection of the old stone church, she had a sense of how small her slice of time was. That her lifetime, like her grandfather’s, was going to be nothing more than a wrinkle in time. Legacies, especially one like this, were all that they’d have.
    She realized she was going to do whatever she could to make sure that her father and the rest of the board came to an agreement with Moretti Motors. Sure, she wanted to win and it would be nice to get this deal sealed. But she also wanted her grandfather to be remembered for generations to come. She wanted the car named after him to be talked about the way the Shelby Cobra was to muscle-heads of the world.
    “Are you ready?”
    He’d come up behind her, startling her.
    “ Oui. I wasn’t sure where to meet you. Am I dressed okay?”
    Antonio took her hand in his and led the way through the crowded piazza to a stand where motorcycles were parked. “You look perfect as always.”
    “Flattering me won’t win you any points,” she said.
    “Why not?”
    She studied him for a moment. He wore casual jeans and a cashmere sweater. His hair was perfectly styled and his Italian leather boots were shined. The bike he stood next to was slim and sleek. “Because I don’t like lies, even the social kind, and I am very aware of what I look like in the mirror.”
    He opened up the seat and took out a helmet, handing it to her. “You will never convince me you don’t know you are a beautiful woman.”
    She shook her head. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I know that emotions can make a man see a woman in a different light, but you don’t feel anything for me,