Drive Her Mad (THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE POP DIVA VOL. 3) by Eve Montelibano Read Free Book Online Page B

you.”
    “They like Hollywood?”
    “No, they like your music.”
    She raised a skeptical brow. “Huh? Those tough guys listen to my music?”
    “Your music is…fantastic. I love it. They love it.”
    She rolled her eyes. “You’ve never listened to my music before. You listen to Kelly Rowland.”
    “But I have.”
    She groaned. “Oh god. They saw that video.”
    He grinned at her like a tomcat. “I want to get jealous but I’d rather feel smug. You broke your cherry riding my bull. They can only dream of it.”
    She pinched his side and couldn’t help giggling at his sporadic sense of humor which perfectly hit the mark every time.
    He suddenly lifted her in his arms. She squealed, laughing. He strode toward the bathroom, put her in the shower cubicle and closed the glass door.
    “Five minutes, cara. I’ll wait here.”
    She opened the shower door. “Aren’t you joining me?” she asked him seductively.
    His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at her nakedness. “If I join you, we’re going to stay there for a good hour. We’ve a dozen guests waiting for us downstairs, piccola .” He touched his now bulging fly. “Please, don’t make it harder for me.”
    Giggling, she closed the shower door again.

    Valenna changed her mind. Giane’s off-road racing buddies were not crazy. They were some of the coolest guys she’d met in a while.
    There was an awkward moment when she first entered the den. All the rambunctious noise evaporated like mist under the desert heat when they saw her.
    She broke the ice from the get go. “Sorry, guys. It’s disappointing, I know. What you saw in the video,” She drew two huge circles in front of her chest with her forefingers, “were just camera tricks. Watch Nikki Minaj’s vids. Her booty needs no cam tricks.”
    Laughter erupted in the room.
    The chalet’s resident chefs, Nonito, an Italian, and Courtney, a French, served a sumptuous meal that looked like a food fest. The dozen testosterone-driven men in the room all dug in with gusto. She noticed the camaraderie, the respect they accorded each other. Their high regard for Giane was apparent as they all addressed him as Padrino .
    To her surprise, the company of these extremely alpha males who spoke English with thick Scandinavian accents was quite interesting and fun. She met Jonas again and learned he was a master off-road racer from Iceland but worked as Giane’s trainer and chief mechanic. These men were in fact Giane’s business partners in his Zoldatti Off-road Formula franchise that had professional tracks in several countries.
    She questioned them about the safety of the sport and she found out most of her fears were unfounded. This type of racing was dangerous but oddly enough, few accidents had happened since its conception. The drivers trained for years and the trucks they used, a buggy-type vehicle specially constructed for very rough terrains and gravity-defying stunts were relatively safe to use. The drivers wore suits that resembled a body armor, well-crafted full-face helmets and neck braces.
    Still, the image of Giane’s truck tumbling like a turtle box down the hill was not something she would forget for months. Let them do those crazy stunts, not her Giane. He was better off with the usual formula racing on flat tracks. Better for her peace of mind, that was.
    HER Giane? Careful, careful.
    She ignored her inner guard. She felt too good to kill the buzz. Not yet. She had a few days left.
    They were holding hands under the table, exchanging lazy glances, their eyes communicating. She was now wondering about what Giane said to her. He said people hated him, that he didn’t have many friends. Looking at these men who obviously loved and respected him as their employer and friend, it was hard to comprehend.
    She was the only woman in the room but she blended in pretty well. These guys were all funny, smart and real gentlemen. Not once did she catch any of them looking at her in anything but a