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Authors: Jane O'Reilly

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BOOK: She Who Dares
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Nic watched the clock, wanting the time to hurry up so she could get this over with, yet wishing desperately that it would stretch out a little longer. She put her tools on the trolley and went into her office instead, needing some sort of simple task to keep her hands busy, preferably one which wasn’t likely to cause serious injury. Paperwork was safe, right? She lifted a pile of unfiled forms from the red plastic tray on the desk, dropping them a heartbeat later as pain sliced through her little finger.

No, apparently paperwork was not safe, she thought, popping her finger in her mouth and wrinkling her nose at the taste of blood. Any sort of injury to her hands and she wouldn’t be able to work. Health and safety was more than just a bad joke as far as Nic was concerned. In the end, she occupied herself by cheating at solitaire on the computer until the tiny clock in the corner said 2.05.

At 2.07 she let herself breathe.

It was a mistake. ‘Hi.’

The voice from the doorway was all male, a little husky, and that one simple word moved over her like hot smoke. Her toes curled up inside the soft cover of her boots, and her skin flushed like she was sitting on an overheated engine. ‘You’re here,’ she managed, getting to her feet and wedging her hip against the battered wooden desk to keep herself upright. ‘Right. You’re here.’

‘I did say I would be,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Ready to go?’

Nic plastered on a smile. ‘Of course.’

The bike leathers had gone, replaced by jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that had his team logo printed slap bang in the middle of his left pectoral and the buttons undone.

She’d accompanied men on test drives before. Two test drives, to be precise. Obviously neither of them had been quite this good looking, but still. It was no big deal. All she had to do was stay calm, keep smiling, and remember that Sebastian had no idea who she was. There was safety in anonymity. The thought bolstered her confidence, though that was quickly splintered when she opened the safe and the keys for the Corvette weren’t there.

‘Why don’t you wait outside? I’ll just be a minute,’ she said, trying to make it look like she wasn’t searching the desk and panicking. Ella never panicked. She was always in control, always confident, and she never did stupid things like lose keys, or give a false name, or worse. And Nic had done plenty of worse over the years.

She tried not to think about that, tried to keep her hand from straying to her hip. ‘I’m so sorry about this,’ she flustered. ‘They can’t have gone far.’

‘They’re in your pocket.’

‘What?’

‘The keys. They’re in your pocket.’

Nic dropped her hand against her upper thigh, her fingers curving over the telltale bump in her pocket. ‘So they are. Right. Shall we get on with it, then?’

He stepped back as she made a move towards the door. ‘Ladies first.’

Dropping her gaze to the floor, Nic hurried past him. Moisture clung to her armpits, and if the word ‘idiot’ had started flashing on her forehead she wouldn’t be surprised. Her skin prickled viciously as she walked to the Corvette. He was watching her. He doesn’t know who you are, she reminded herself with every awkward breath. Just act normal.

Nic unlocked the driver’s side, opened the door and gestured for him to get in. She waited as he adjusted the seat and the rear view mirror before settling herself into the passenger seat, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he didn’t ask for help with anything.
Not because she didn’t know how the Corvette worked, but because she desperately needed to keep their interaction to a minimum. She’d deliberately forgotten how strongly she reacted to Sebastian; how being near him for even a minute made her metabolic rate go crazy.

He’d started the engine before she’d even got her seat belt on. It didn’t roar for Sebastian, not like it did for her. Instead, it purred like a well fed cat.

Nic blinked back surprise, then wondered why she was surprised. The man drove for a living. He could probably get a junker to roll over and purr. ‘If you’d like to turn…’

Tyres screamed over tarmac as he put his foot to the accelerator and spun the car to the left.

‘…right,’ she finished breathlessly. ‘Or left. Whatever.’

He glanced across at her, one dark brow raised. It was a look that said, quite clearly,
I am in charge here.
Long fingers caressed the steering wheel as he relaxed back into his seat and rapidly worked his way into fourth gear.

As the car accelerated, so did her pulse. There was something screamingly sexy about watching him drive, watching him control all that power. Nic kept quiet, trying to figure out what to do with her hands, how to arrange her legs. The interior of the Corvette didn’t contain enough air, or enough space. She crossed her ankles, folded her arms, as if she could make herself invisible somehow, not wanting him to know that her insides were boiling with delight and horrible, sick jealousy.

It was pathetic and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself. Sebastian and Ella had been together for eight months. Their relationship had been fast paced and exciting. Nic had lost count of the number of times Ella had jetted off somewhere exotic, only to crash back two days later with a new designer dress and a big smile, and she’d find herself wondering why her? Why not me?

Because that was Ella, and Nic wasn’t Ella. She was the tomboy ugly sister, and Sebastian was a customer, and she needed to remember that before she did something stupid and gave herself away. Her throat started to close up at the thought of it, and she had to swallow hard.

‘It handles well, doesn’t it,’ she said, as he hit a straight and accelerated. ‘The clutch and flywheel are both new, but pretty much everything else is original. So I’ve been told, anyway.’ Nic fidgeted with her seat belt, let out an awkward little laugh. ‘I don’t really know much about cars.’

‘How long have you worked at the garage?’

‘A while,’ she replied, figuring that was sufficiently non-committal. She had to head this off at the pass, before she said something else and really did give herself away. ‘So, you drive rally cars.’

‘Amongst other things.’

‘What’s that like?’ She wanted him to talk so she wouldn’t have to, but she also wanted to know.

‘Right now, crappy.’

That figured. His crash had been spectacular, flipping the car into a ditch on a particularly nasty stretch of road in the French Alps. He’d been lucky to get out alive. Nic squeezed her knees together, wondering at his ability to get back behind the wheel after that. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it. ‘And the rest of the time?’

He dropped the car into third, angled it into a corner at terrifying speed. ‘You ask a lot of questions.’

‘Sorry,’ Nic flustered. ‘I’m just curious. It’s not every day I meet a pro-driver.’

‘You’re interested in racing?’

‘I’m interested in anything fast,’ she replied, then inwardly cringed. ‘What do you think of the car?’

‘Gearbox is shot.’

‘It’s…’ Nic stopped herself just before she told him that it was in fact brand new, and she’d replaced it herself. ‘Oh,’ she said, her heart thumping. ‘Right. I’ll…I’ll have to tell Ella about that.’ Not that Ella would be able to do anything about it even if it did need replacing.

‘And Ella will fix it,’ he said comfortably, changing down a gear as they came to a roundabout. He picked an exit without even asking, barely even bothering to slow down.

She risked a glance at him, took in his strong profile, his hands lazily caressing the steering wheel, his arms tanned and sinewy. Nature had been so kind to Sebastian Prince it bordered on the unfair. ‘Of course.’

‘When is she getting back?’

This, at least, was one thing she could be honest about. ‘She didn’t say. Shall we head back to the garage now?’

‘You’re the boss,’ he said, flicking her a quick sideways glance.

Nic froze in her seat. Did he know? No, she told herself firmly. They lapsed into silence as the car snarled back to the garage, straining every inch of the way like a racehorse with the reins pulled tight. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, as he eased to a halt on the forecourt.

‘What for?’

‘The test drive.’

He raised a curious eyebrow.

‘Well,’ Nic said quickly, ‘it doesn’t seem like an easy car to drive. Not with that big front end. And it’s so noisy. If you’d decided that it was too tricky to handle and made me drive it, I don’t know what I’d have done!’

He rolled the Corvette forward, parking parallel to the showroom. Then he turned to face her.

‘So,’ said Nic. She tried to smile. ‘What do you think?’

He stared at her. ‘I don’t know what to think.’

The test drive was done, she told herself firmly. She’d got away with it. He’d already given himself an excuse not to buy the Corvette, and she’d gone along with it. All they had to do now was shake hands, say thank you very much, and they’d never have to see each other again.

Except…a tiny little part of her wanted to be in his company just a few minutes more. Curiosity, she supposed. Nothing to do with the fact that being near him made her skin tingle, or that being in that car with him had made her feel glad to be alive. ‘Would you like to test drive anything else?’

He looked her way, his gaze loitering for a moment on her bare legs. Cut offs were her standard garage uniform in summer. Jeans through the winter, chopped off when they wore through. There was no denying they were scruffy. She should have worn smart trousers.

‘Yes,’ he said. He cleared his throat, and spoke again. ‘Yes, I think I would.’

‘Excellent!’ Nic reached for the door handle and scrambled out of the car, wondering if she could sneak off and change, refusing to think about what she was doing. ‘I’ve got a
1958 Porsche Speedster. It’s an import, so it’s right hand drive, but I’m guessing that won’t be a problem.’

‘No problem at all.’

He was so smooth. So damn in control. As she let herself in through the side door and set about unlocking the showroom so that he could choose another car, Nic tried to persuade herself to calm down.

It wasn’t just the way he looked. Lean and fit and powerful, with the relaxed, easy movements of someone who was in perfect shape, and those incredible green eyes set deep under straight, dark brows. Something about the way he had looked at the car, as if he really understood it, made her hot. He just…he
got
it. And when she’d been in the Corvette and he’d been driving…

There was no way she could only do that once. It would be like taking one bite from a bar of chocolate and giving the rest away, knowing you’d never have chocolate again. Nic closed her eyes, her pulse in overdrive. There was no denying it. Half an hour in Sebastian Prince’s company and she was a pile of mush.

She swallowed hard and rubbed a clammy hand over her face, then over the front of her t-shirt. In the empty silence of the showroom, Nic was forced to admit that much as she might want to, she couldn’t have another spin in a car with Sebastian Prince. The longer she spent in his company, the more likely it was that she’d make a fool of herself.

She didn’t think she could cope with the embarrassment if that happened. So she did the only thing she could. She sucked in a breath, sucked in her stomach, went back outside and lied through her teeth. ‘I totally forgot. Ella said the Porsche needs some repairs, so it’s not available for a test drive right now. I’m really sorry about that.’

‘Is that so,’ he remarked, a strange look on his face. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Um…’ Nic felt her confidence wobble. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, I know a bit about engines. Let’s take a look, shall we?’

What was she supposed to say? No you can’t, because I fixed it myself and there’s nothing wrong with it? Flicking a glance heavenwards, Nic followed him as he strode into the showroom, his legs ridiculously long, his Converse squeaking on the painted concrete. She watched as he popped the bonnet and leaned in.

Silence covered her, heavy and awkward, time ticking slower as her gaze latched onto the spread of his shoulders and tanned strength of his neck. His hair hung forward, a silken handful made to be grabbed.

He shifted his gaze and looked at her. Then lifted one hand and beckoned her closer. Her legs felt strange, her mouth dry. The gesture was entirely innocent, she was sure of it, yet there was something so innately, undeniably commanding and sexual about it.
Come here
, it said.
Do as I say
. She looked at his hand, at the curve of his finger. ‘Have you seen something?’ she said, before the power of speech deserted her entirely.

He didn’t reply, merely raised an impatient eyebrow. Not daring to stand close to him, but unable to think of any other option, Nic moved her awkward, heavy limbs alongside his lean, loose length.

She stared down at the engine, trying to look as if she’d never seen one before. ‘What’s that?’ Nic jabbed a finger at the alternator.

Sebastian rewarded her with an eye roll. He was watching her, she realised suddenly. He wasn’t looking at the engine at all. And he was close, so close that she could see his eyelashes, thick and dark, and a little scar at the side of his nose, and how the skin on his jaw was already slightly darker than the skin on his cheek.

The world seemed to stop. Her head filled with a strange roar, maybe her heartbeat, maybe something else entirely, Nic couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she was looking at his mouth, that looking wasn’t nearly enough, and that she just couldn’t help herself.

He doesn’t know who I am, she thought dazedly. It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t know who I am. She felt herself move, felt the warmth of his body, the second the bare skin of his forearm made contact with hers, which was a second before her mouth found his.

The touch was firm, warm, still. His mouth moved under hers, so gently that she almost dissolved.

‘Nic,’ he murmured.

‘Hmm?’ Nic tipped her head, wondering what he would taste like, and why he wasn’t letting her find out.

‘Nic.’ That little word again, louder this time, stronger, more forceful. ‘What are you doing?’

Her eyes snapped open, and she fell into deep, sparkling green. Her whole body jerked back. ‘Oh, god.’

BOOK: She Who Dares
5.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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