Elusive Dawn (19 page)

He had never worried over her fears. He had never introduced her to sponsors or reporters with possessive pride. He had never looked at her with eyes that said she meant everything to him, or silently shared the heart-stopping beauty of a sunrise.

Why had Brian's racing terrified her? Not because she had loved him.
Because he had not loved her.

Robyn allowed the realization to sink slowly into her mind, her heart. Brian had never truly loved her. A little sadly, she understood at last that he had been unable to love her the way she had needed to be loved.

He had been her husband in name, in fact. But he had never really been her lover.
And certainly never a friend.
And she had never been a wife to him, because he hadn't needed a wife.

But Shane?
He was her friend, her lover. He teased her and laughed with her-and held up a mirror to her soul. He was her match, her equal, on some level she couldn't name.
The other half of herself, the part that made her complete.

She was necessary to Shane, just as he was to her. His delight in her, in what they had found together, told her over and over again how much she meant to him. With him she had found the companionship she had longed for, the love she had needed.

A mutual love.

For the first time in her life, Robyn completely understood herself. And she knew then that she would be able to watch Shane race, that fear wouldn't cripple her-not because she didn't love him enough, but because he loved her enough. Shane didn't need racing to make him happy, but he needed her. What had he told her only moments after setting eyes on her? That he had dreamed her. That he had always dreamed her.

In that moment, Robyn had felt that she knew him, that she had always known him. She had blamed some fleeting resemblance to Brian and convinced herself that she had wanted one last night with her husband.

But the strange shock she had felt had had nothing to do with a memory of Brian. Wistfully, she had dreamed the encounter the way it might have been between her and Brian. Might have been, but never was.
The searing passion and shivering tenderness, the sensation that it was only the two of them alone in a world of magic.
The knowledge that everything was forgotten in the wonder of love.

Only Shane's determined pursuit had shown her that her dream had contained not the ghost of her husband, but the living, breathing body of the stranger she had tumbled headlong into love with.

The man she had dreamed of.
Always dreamed of.

Racing would never take Shane away from her. Not in this life, and not in the next. He belonged fully to her, just as she belonged completely to him. They would make wine and babies together, and grow old together. And though they would be apart for brief times in the flesh, they would never be apart in spirit.

This new understanding brought a serene glow to Robyn's eyes-at least, that's what the reporters wrote in their "human interest" stories about this woman who had lost one man to racing and was now involved with another.

The enterprising reporter who had dug into Robyn's past and unearthed her marriage to Brian
McAllaster
tried to interview her, but Shane's constant presence seemed to cramp his style. And since Robyn was only mildly amused by the interest in her past, she said little. So the reporter wove about Robyn's surprised person a tale of love and sacrifice and courage that made Joan of Arc pale by comparison.

Safe in her newly discovered strength, Robyn was able to laugh and shake her head over the story. She tried to explain to the reporter that he was dramatizing things a bit, but he was hot on the trail of what seemed likely to be the most talked about story at that year's Firecracker 400.

It wasn't until his next story appeared in Saturday's newspaper that Shane discovered that Robyn's father had been killed in a car wreck three years before.

"
Dammit
, why didn't you tell me?"

"It's been three years, darling. It doesn't hurt anymore."

Shane faced her as they stood in their hotel suite late Saturday afternoon. "You should have told me," he said roughly. "How did it happen?"

"Another driver had had too much New Year's cheer. His car crossed the median and crashed into Daddy's."

Shane looked at her searchingly. "I can pull out, honey. It's not too late."

Robyn smiled at him and calmly began unbuttoning her shirt. "Nonsense," she murmured. "You're going to qualify tomorrow, and on Monday you're going to win the race."

His eyes darkened as he watched her dispose of the shirt. "What are you doing?" he gasped.

"Sharpening my vamping abilities.
I've nearly gotten them honed to a fine edge, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd say. But aren't we supposed to meet Eric and Kris in the lobby half an hour from now?"

"I think they'll be late. I think we will be, too." Robyn paused for a moment to regard him with a mock frown. "Or should we be conserving your energy? Jocks in training-"

"I'm not a jock," Shane interrupted hastily, moving toward her with desire flaring in his eyes.

"Oh, well. Then we needn't worry."

Sunday afternoon was hot and still when Robyn took her place in the stands to watch Shane drive the necessary qualifying laps around the track. She was aware of her friends' searching glances, but her entire attention was fixed on the Thunderbird rolling out onto the track. It was colorful with the decals of sponsors, and gleaming from the washing the crew had given it only an hour before.

Long moments later, she was turning away from the railing and heading for the pit area. Elation surged through her as she realized that her strongest emotions while watching Shane's car tearing around the track had been excitement and pride.

She was barely aware of Kris and Eric following behind her as she hurried to be in the pit when Shane arrived. She got there just as the car did, and she watched as Shane was helped from the vehicle. He tossed his protective helmet to one of the crew, and emerald eyes immediately searched the small crowd.

"Where's my lady?"

Robyn launched herself from three feet away and was instantly caught in strong arms and swung in a happy circle. "There's my lady," he murmured, utter satisfaction in his voice as he gazed down at her. He kissed her possessively, apparently oblivious to their interested spectators.

"That's showing '
em
how, skipper," Robyn said when she finally found the breath for it.

"On the track?"
He lifted an inquiring eyebrow.
"Or here?"

"Oh, both."
Ignoring the chuckles around them, she added softly, "They should see what you can do on the sea..."

The qualifying laps hadn't frightened Robyn. The race did. She had expected the fear, and she was ready for it. It was sane, rational fear. Shane was driving a car surrounded by other cars in a close pack at speeds in excess of a hundred and fifty miles per hour.

The slightest mistake in
judgement
on his part, or on the part of even one other driver, could end in tragedy. The grueling pace demanded endurance from both man and machine.

As Monday afternoon wore on, several cars dropped out of the race because of mechanical failure. Heat shimmered above the track, and the roar of laboring engines drowned out every other sound.

Rather than watching the race from the stands, Robyn remained in the pit area. She was there to smile at Shane and give him a brief thumbs-up signal each time he pulled the T-Bird in for a bewilderingly quick change of tires and refueling.

A quick smile and flash of emerald eyes, and he was back on the track again.

There was only one mishap during the afternoon, and it wasn't serious, although it easily could have been. A car blew its engine coming off a turn, and the cars behind it narrowly avoided a collision. One of those cars was Shane's Thunderbird.

Robyn's heart leaped into her throat and hung for an agonizing second until the hazard was safely passed.

"Are you all right?"

She turned her head to find both Eric and Kris watching her carefully, and she knew without being told that Shane had asked them to keep an eye on her.

"I'm fine," she said faintly.

"It isn't easy, is it?" Kris empathized.

"No." Robyn turned her eyes back to the track and rapidly found Shane's car among the others. "No, it isn't easy."

Her heart jumped into her throat more than once during that long afternoon. The courage she had gained during the past few days held-just. Her eyes remained fixed on the T-Bird with almost hypnotic intensity. But an unfamiliar excitement gripped her as Shane established a lead late in the afternoon and doggedly held it.

By the closing moments of the race, the lead had narrowed to one lap, and two more cars blew their engines in a last vain effort to close the gap. When the checkered flag waved above the finish line, it was to signal Shane's victory.

Robyn didn't need Eric's guiding arm to take her to Shane. By instinct, she was heading to meet the Thunderbird as it rolled in. The car was surrounded by jubilant fans and well-wishers, all trying to touch Shane and congratulate him. The loudspeaker was blaring, and the crowd was roaring.

The pit crew managed to cut their way through the confusion of people and help Shane from the car. Flashbulbs were popping all around them, and the din of excited voices filled the air. But his deep voice rose easily above all the chatter.

"Where's my lady?"

He had tossed his helmet aside, and the grime of the long hot hours in the car streaked his weary face. But the emerald eyes were bright with a touching eagerness as they scanned the crowd.

And his lady flung herself into his arms.

It was hours later before Eric and Kris had shoved the last well-wisher out the door and bid Robyn and Shane good night. Looking around their suite at the clutter left behind from the impromptu party, Robyn shook her head in amusement.

"We'd better call the maid."

"In the morning."
Smiling down at her, Shane reached out to draw her into his arms. "I haven't had a moment alone with you all day."

"You've been busy," Robyn excused. She laced her fingers together at the back of his neck, happily breathing in the clean, spicy scent of his aftershave. "You barely had time to shower and accept the sponsors' congratulations before the fans started arriving."

"
Mmmm
."
Shane lifted an inquiring brow. "I noticed that wacky blonde showed up. What did you say to her that took the wind out of her sails so quickly?"

"Nothing much."
Robyn smiled up at him, remembering the girl from Key Largo and their little confrontation today.
"Just that I was going to make an honest man out of you."

His arms tightened around her. "And are you?" he asked huskily, emerald eyes flaring with unconcealed hope.

"Was there any doubt?" Robyn felt her heart lurch with sudden, overpowering love as she met the searching look. "I'm an old-fashioned kind of girl, skipper; you'll just have to marry me."

"Nobody has to point a shotgun at me, honey," he told her gruffly, giving her a bone-crushing hug. "I've wanted to marry you since the moment I set eyes on you!"

"And here I had to do the asking!"

"I asked you more than a week ago!"

Suddenly serious, Robyn looked up at him gravely. "I had to find out a few things about myself before I could answer you," she explained quietly.

"If you could handle the racing?"

"
That,
and why I was so afraid in the first place. I didn't understand that fear, Shane, and I needed to."

"And you understand now?" he asked, a hint of anxiety in his vivid eyes.

She nodded, smiling as she gazed up at him. "I understand now. I thought that I was terrified of racing, Shane, but that was never the real fear; the real fear was a fear of loss."

Shane pulled her a bit closer, as if to combat that fear.
"Loss?
You mean because racing is dangerous?"

"Not exactly.
It all started with Brian." Her eyes asked his understanding of this last mention of her husband, and Shane nodded silently as he read the question there.

Robyn sighed softly. "I told you once that Brian was obsessed with racing. And I mean just that. He had to win every race; it took up his whole life. Racing had more of him than I could ever have had, and that scared me to death. I think that what frightened me the most wasn't that Brian could have been killed. What unnerved me was that I was becoming nothing more than a shadow in his life. My relationship with Brian was so
empty,
all I had to hold on to was the fear. Does that make sense?"

Shane smiled gently down at her. "It makes sense."

Robyn returned the smile, gazing up at her friend, her lover. "Once I understood that racing wouldn't take you away from me, I knew I could watch you race," she whispered. Her smile turned rueful. "I won't like it, but I can take it."

"You won't have to."

She stared at him uncertainly, feeling a sudden surge of hope. "Shane, don't give up racing for me. Please."

"I'm not, honey." His smile was a little crooked. "I'm giving it up for me."

"But you love it!"

"I love you more." He shook his head. "Robyn, I never needed racing. It was just a hobby, something to occupy my time and energy. I liked winning, I'll admit. But I always intended to go back to being a full-time vintner; I never wanted to be written up in the record books as the best driver of all time.

"And when I was out there today, seeing you waiting for me every time I pulled into the pits, I realized that I'd never race again. I'd be a fool to risk everything I have by climbing into that car again. And I wouldn't lose you for all the fame and money in the world. Today was my swan song."

Robyn was afraid to hope, afraid to show him how much she hoped. She didn't want him to race. She didn't want him to spend precious hours risking his life. But she loved him enough to watch him, if that was what he wanted.