Accelerated Passion (9 page)

Suddenly, the car was there again. A blur of silver and red racing their way.

Wait, wait, wait.

She clicked the watch at the exact moment the nose touched the finish line.

She hardly dared look.

She did.

Fifty-eight point two-one.

“Wow.” She could hardly believe it.

“What is it?” Enrique’s shoulder nudged hers as he strained to see.

“We’ve taken it down from point two-three to point two-one.”

“
Puto infierno
, that’s awesome.”

“It is.”

Paul and Jake rushed over. “Well?”

She showed them the digital display.

“Fuck, that’s brilliant.” Jake punched the air.

Paul gave her a quick hug then high-fived Enrique.

Within seconds, Dean was rolling the car back into the pits. Like a stallion that had just completed the Grand National, heat radiated from it, and the exhaust blew as though out of breath.

Dean released the wheel and his belt then jumped out, his feet silent as his soft soles landed on the tarmac.

“Well?” He pulled of his helmet. “That felt good, but was it?” He looked at Frankie. His eyes were wide with anticipation, and his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“It was good.” She grinned.

“How good?”

“Point two-one,” Enrique blurted. “Two-one.”

“Fuck, that’s awesome for a first run.”

“I know.” Frankie held up the stopwatch.

“Well done,” Jake said, smacking Dean on the shoulder.

Dean grinned and high-fived Enrique.

He shook a couple of hands thrust his way. What this meant for the rest of their time at Hockenheimring was worth its weight in gold.

“Fucking incredible,” Paul said.

Dean gave him a quick sharp hug. “Tell me about it.”

“Okay, I will.” Paul beamed. “All Frankie’s suggestions.”

Dean stilled and looked her way. “Really?”

“
Si
, really.” Enrique bounced on the spot. “She is awesome.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I—”

Dean was suddenly in front of her. He clasped his hands over her cheeks, his gloves cool on her warm skin, and stared down at her. Next thing she knew, his lips had covered hers.

He pressed a hot hard kiss over her mouth.

She forgot to breathe.

She stared at his closed eyelids.

Her arms hung limply at her sides.

Dean Cudditch is kissing me.

After a moment, she came to her senses. She pushed him away and stepped back.

He was grinning, excitement, exhilaration, and passion shone in his eyes. “You might be a little Oz firecracker, babe, but, damn, you clearly know what you’re doing.”

“As it happens, yes.”

Firecracker. Shit, she felt as though her whole body was about to combust. Who the hell did he think he was, kissing his lead mechanic in front of the team?

Damn, she wished he’d do it again.

Her mind spun. Her lips tingled. Her cheeks burned.

Enrique stared at her.

Dean was taking more slaps on the back as Paul spoke quickly about some of the changes they’d made.

Frankie took a step away and studied the watch again. She pretended to be fascinated by it in the hope no one would think she was ruffled,
seriously
ruffled, by the kiss Dean Cudditch had planted on her lips.

But he did that to all the girls, didn’t he?

Why would they take any notice?

Because, generally, the girls he kissed might get him going faster in bed, but not on the track. She was unique in that department.

“You okay, Frankie?” Enrique asked, frowning.

“Yeah, of course.” She shrugged.

“You want—?”

“I want you to help get the car ready to go round again.” She used her firmest tone. “One result does not make consistency it just proves possibility.” She tucked the watch away and clapped. “Come on, chop, chop.”

“
Si, senorita
.” He nodded seriously and headed for his side of the car.

She followed suit and started a check on the air intake. She needed to stay away from Dean. He made her lose control. She forgot where she was and who she was with when he was there. He became her focus, a star she orbited around.

Soon, the car was ready to go again.

She had Paul take charge of the stopwatch.

The result was the same.

A whoop of delight erupted from the team.

Dean gave a thumbs up. He didn’t get out of the car. Instead, he headed straight off again, and, to everyone’s delight, he matched the time.

They had consistency. A great day’s work.

Rather than heading back to the house, Dean declared he wanted to take everyone out for steak. He knew a great place just off their route home.

Frankie didn’t want to go. She needed to be alone. That kiss. The fact he’d told her she was sexy. It was all too much. A shower and bed were all she could think about. Well, that wasn’t strictly the case. Dean was all she could think about, but going out for dinner with him and fourteen other blokes seemed more like torture than fun.

Dinner alone with Dean. Naked dinner alone with Dean. Eating dinner off his gorgeous body, now that she could do. Perhaps she could lick sauce from that colorful tattoo of his, spread it lower…

She shook her head and frowned at the direction her thoughts were going. Did she really want to be another Bridget? A woman he bedded for one night then moved on to the next. It was clear Dean was the type of guy who enjoyed the chase. The challenge of capturing his prey, fucking them stupid, then moving on to another victim.

Well, she had no intention of being some poor hapless gazelle caught by his charm.

“I’m going to skip dinner,” she said quietly to Paul.

“What? Why? You’ve played a huge part in the reason for the celebration.”

“I’m tired.” She opened her purse and rummaged for the keys. “Do you mind if I take the car?”

“Go ahead. There’s plenty of space for us to grab a ride with one of the others.”

“Thanks.”

“I wish you’d change your mind, though, Frankie, and come out with us.”

“Nah, you have a boys’ night out. You don’t need me there cramping your style.”

“No cramping about it. You’re one of us.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She forced a smile. “Of course. Need my bed and an early night, that’s all. Been lots of excitement today.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” He didn’t look convinced.

“I’m sure. There’s stuff in the fridge. I’ll throw something together for dinner.”

“Want me to bring a meal back for you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. Go have fun.”

“Dean will be disappointed you’re not there.”

“I doubt that.” She held in a huff then walked away. “See you in the morning.”

She swung the keys from her finger as she headed off the track to the car park.

Dean’s fancy car was tucked under a white shelter, protecting it from the heat of the sun. She admired the bodywork and the smooth lines. One day she’d have a car like that of her own. One day when she stopped this constant traveling the globe, fighting to prove her worth in a man’s world.

She clicked her key fob, and the standard issue Ford came to life. It wasn’t often she felt weary with having to demonstrate her skills the way she had today, but now she realized how exhausting the emotions that went with it were. What if the track time had been slower? What if the driver had discovered a kink in the handling that didn’t suit him?

“Stop it.” She slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Buck up. You did it.” She pulled out of the parking spot. “No feeling sorry for yourself.”

Soon, she was nearing the house and feeling better. She’d put on some music and let the air-conditioning cool her body. The thought of a quiet evening became more appealing the closer she got. Perhaps she’d have a swim, open a beer, and watch a movie. Enjoy the tranquility of the house for a change.

Yes, that’s what she’d do. Indulge in time alone, something she had so rarely.

And she wouldn’t think about Dean, not for one minute.
Well, maybe for just one…or two.

* * * *

Frankie had been asleep for an hour or so when she heard the team arrive back. The crunch of the gravel under tires and footsteps was loud and seemed to echo over the surrounding hills. The accompanying raucous voices and bellows of laughter shook through the house.

She grabbed the pillow and rammed it over her head, trying to block the sound. So much for an early night. She was wide awake again now.

Reaching to her bedside locker, she realized she’d left her phone downstairs. “Damn it.”

Now she had no idea of the time or an alarm to set for the morning.

She sat and listened to the movements around the house.

Heavy footfall on the stairs told her some of the team were heading to bed. But distant voices made her think a few were having a nightcap in the kitchen.

Where had she left her phone?

She cast her mind back. She’d had it when she’d made dinner because she’d texted her sister. Then again, she recalled taking a photograph of the sunset reflecting in the pool. And then another of the grand fireplace in the living room, both of which she’d forwarded to her sister.

Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she stood. Her phone was in the living room, on the polished dresser with the fake flowers, she was sure of it.

She’d have to go and get it and hope that, as she suspected, the men were in the kitchen. Because she couldn’t be bothered to get dressed again, a robe over her favorite pale blue sleeping vest would have to do.

Cautiously, she opened her door and peered along the bannister. It was empty. Dean’s door was open but his light off. She guessed he was with his team, also enjoying a nightcap.

Barefooted, she padded down the stairs then into the dark living room. Instead of turning on a light, she tapped the top of the dresser until she located her phone.

The men were loud, their mood clearly high, but they were all in the kitchen.

Feeling particularly stealthy, she headed back to the stairs. Silently, she jogged up them.

Her door was in sight. Nearly there. She glanced at her screen. It was past one a.m.

Suddenly, she collided with a solid chest.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Dean.” She grabbed the bannister to stop herself from falling over.

He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and held her steady. “You okay?”

She looked up at him. “Yeah, I just forgot this.” She held up her phone. “It was in the living room.”

“Why didn’t you come out with us?”

She shrugged and dislodged his hold on her. “I had other things to do.”

He frowned. “Like what?”

“Things. Girl things.”

He kind of smiled. “Girl things?”

“I wanted to swim in peace, watch a movie in peace. Have a break from you lot.”

“Including me?”

“Including everyone.”

“Enrique?”

“Pardon?”

What on earth does he mean by that?

He stepped to one side as if to let her pass. “Nothing.”

She tightened the belt on her robe. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“So what’s your phone number?”

“My number?”

“Yes, what is it?” He nodded at her phone.

“Why do you want that?”

“You’re one of my senior mechanics. I should have it for a variety of reasons.” He paused. “Did Nail Baum have it when you were on his team?”

“Well, yes…but…”

“No buts.” He stepped back up the top step, into his room, then flicked on a light. “This way.”

She stared at the doorway. How was he so casual about inviting her into his room at night? Was this how a moth felt when attracted to a candle? How a rabbit must feel when tempted into a fox’s lair?

Her gut feeling was to head to her own room. Swap numbers with Dean tomorrow if that’s what he wanted.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was about, then stepped inside.

It was messier than last time. The bed unmade and a few items of clothing scattered around. It also smelled strongly of his aftershave.

She wondered what it would be like to roll around on his bed and let that delicious, aphrodisiac smell soak into her skin. Bliss…

“Here we go.” He was peering at his phone, finger hovering over the screen. “Let me have it.”

She reeled off her number.

“Thanks.” He replaced it on the bedside locker.

“Okay.” She turned. “Night then.”

“Frankie.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “What?”

“I didn’t say thank you properly.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.”

He was behind her…close behind her. She could hear him breathing.

The dark hallway stretched before her then the safety of her room.

“I’m really very grateful. More than grateful. I can see why Eric took you on now.”

“I’m glad I’ve proved my worth to you.”

“As a mechanic maybe. But you didn’t need to as a person.”

She turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I already knew I liked you as a person.”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I know enough.” He stepped past her and closed the door.

Fuck, now she was in Dean’s room, with the door shut, wearing next to nothing.

And all she could think about was how bloody gorgeous he was. How sex-starved she’d been for so long.

But, damn it, she didn’t want to be another one of his conquests.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Stay with me for a while. Let’s talk. Then I can get to know you better.”

She knotted her fingers together. The right thing to do would be to go back to bed, right now, alone. “So what do you want to talk about?”

He kind of smiled. “I’ve told you about my son. You tell me about your family.”

“Not much to tell. My parents live in Adelaide, both retired, and my sister is in Melbourne. She’s expecting her first baby in a few months.”

“Exciting times.”

“I’m looking forward to being an aunt. Not likely to ever be a mother.”

“Why not?” He appeared surprised by that statement.