* * *
Lucy Ann usually found race day exciting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. The sense that she and Elliot weren’t going to figure out how to make things work between them before the end of their time together. Thank goodness Mrs. Clayworth had taken the baby back to the condo to nap, because Lucy Ann was beyond distracted.
Sitting in the private viewing box with Elliot’s friends and the relatives of other drivers, she tried to stifle her fears, to reassure herself that she and Elliot could find a way to parent together—possibly even learn to form a relationship as a couple. That she could figure out how to heal the wounds from his past, which still haunted everything he did.
The buzz of conversation increased behind her, a frenzy of whispers and mumbles in multiple languages. She turned away from the viewing window and monitors broadcasting prerace hubbub, newscasters speaking in French, English, Spanish and a couple of languages she didn’t recognize. She looked past the catering staff carrying glasses of champagne to the entrance. A gasp caught in her throat.
Gianna? Here?
The other woman worked her way down the steps, her dark curls bouncing. Shock, followed by a burst of anger, rippled through Lucy Ann as she watched Gianna stride confidently closer. Her white dress clung to her teeny-tiny body. Clearly those hips had never given birth. And Lucy Ann was long past her days of wearing anything white thanks to baby spit-up. Not that she would trade her son for a size-zero figure and a closet full of white clothes.
Above all, she did not want a scene in front of the media. Gianna’s eyes were locked on her, her path determined. If the woman thought she could intimidate, she was sorely mistaken.
Lucy Ann shot to her feet and marched up the stairs, her low heels clicking. She threw her arms wide and said loud enough for all to hear, “Gianna, so glad you could make it.”
Stunned, the woman almost tripped over her own stilettos. “Um, I—”
Lucy Ann hugged her hard and whispered in her ear, “We’re going to have a quick little private chat and, above all, we will not cause a scene before the race.”
She knew how fast gossip spread and she didn’t intend to let any negative energy ripple through the crowd. And she definitely didn’t intend for anyone to see her lose her calm. She hauled the other woman down the hall and into a ladies’ room, locking the door behind them.
Once she was sure no one else was in the small sitting area or in the stalls, she confronted Elliot’s former fiancée. “Why are you here?”
Gianna shook her curls. “I’m here with a retired Brazilian racer. I was simply coming by to say hello.”
“I’m not buying that.” Lucy Ann stared back at the other woman and found she wasn’t jealous so much as angry that someone was trying mess with her happiness—hers, Elliot’s and Eli’s.
The fake smile finally faded from Gianna’s face. “I came back because now it’s a fair fight.”
At least the woman wasn’t denying it. “I’m not sure I follow your logic.”
“Before, when I found out about you and the baby—”
Lucy gasped. “You knew?”
“I found out by accident. I got nosy about you, looked into your life...” She shrugged. “I was devastated, but I broke off the engagement.”
“Whoa, hold on.” Lucy Ann held up a hand. “I don’t understand. Elliot said you broke up because of his Interpol work. That you couldn’t handle the danger.”
She rolled her dramatic Italian eyes. “Men are so very easy to deceive. I broke the engagement because I couldn’t be the one to tell him about your pregnancy. I couldn’t be ‘that’ woman. The one who broke up true love. The evil one in the triangle. But I also couldn’t marry him knowing he might still want you or his child.”
“So you left.” Lucy Ann’s legs gave way and she sagged back against the steel door.
“I loved him enough to leave and let him figure this out on his own.”
If she’d really loved him, Gianna would have told him about his child, but then Lucy Ann figured who was she to throw stones on that issue? “Do you still love Elliot?”
“Yes, I do.”
She searched the woman’s eyes and saw...genuine heartache. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
Gianna’s pouty smile faltered. “And you’re everything I feared.”
So where did they go from here? That question hammered through Lucy Ann’s mind so loudly it took her a moment to realize the noise was real. Feet drummed overhead with the sound of people running. People screaming?
She looked quickly at Gianna, whose eyes were already widening in confusion, as well. Lucy Ann turned on her heels, unlocked the door and found mass confusion. Spectators and security running. Reporters rushing with their cameras at the ready, shouting questions and directions in different languages.
Lucy Ann grabbed the arm of a passing guard. “What’s going on?”
“Ma’am, there’s been an accident in the lineup. Please return to your seat and let us do our jobs,” the guard said hurriedly and pulled away, melting into the crowd.
“An accident?” Her stomach lurched with fear.
There were other drivers. Many other drivers. And an accident while lining up would be slow? Right? Unless someone was doing a preliminary warm-up lap.... So many horrifying scenarios played through her mind, all of them involving Elliot. She shoved into the crush, searching for a path through to her viewing area or to the nearest telecast screen. Finally, she spotted a wide-screen TV mounted in a corner, broadcasting images of flames.
The words scrolling across the bottom blared what she already knew deep in her terrified heart.
Elliot had crashed.
Twelve
Her heart in her throat, Lucy Ann pushed past Gianna and shouldered through the bustling crush of panicked observers. She reached into her tailored jacket and pulled out her pass giving her unlimited access. She couldn’t just sit in the private viewing area and wait for someone to call her. What if Elliot needed her? She refused to accept the possibility that he could be dead. Even the word made her throat close up tight.
Her low pumps clicked on the stairs as she raced through various checkpoints, flashing the access pass every step of the way.
Finally, thank God, finally, she ran out onto the street level where security guards created an impenetrable wall. The wind whipped her yellow sundress around her legs as she sprinted. Her pulse pounding in her ears, she searched the lanes of race cars, looking for flames. But she found no signs of a major explosion.
A siren’s wail sliced through her. An ambulance navigated past a throng of race personnel spraying down the street with fire extinguishers. The vehicle moved toward two race cars, one on its side, the other sideways as if it had spun out into a skid. As much as she wanted to deny what her eyes saw, the car on its side belonged to Elliot.
Emergency workers crawled all over the vehicle, prying open the door. Blinking back burning tears, Lucy Ann strained against an arm holding her back, desperate to see. Her shouts were swallowed up in the roar of activity until she couldn’t even hear her own incoherent pleas.
The door flew open, and her breath lodged somewhere in her throat. She couldn’t breathe, gasp or shout. Just wait.
Rescue workers reached inside, then hauled Elliot out.
Alive.
She sagged against the person behind her. She glanced back to find Elliot’s Interpol handler, Colonel Salvatore, at her side. He braced her reassuringly, his eyes locked on the battered race car. Elliot was moving, slowly but steadily. The rescue workers tried to keep his arms over their shoulders so they could walk him to a waiting ambulance. But he shook his head, easing them aside and standing on his own two feet. He pulled off his helmet and waved to the crowd, signaling that all was okay.
The crowd roared,
a round of applause thundering, the reverberations shuddering through her along with her relief. His gaze homed in on her. Lucy Ann felt the impact all the way to her toes. Elliot was alive. Again and again, the thought echoed through her mind in a continual loop of reassurance, because heaven help her, she loved him. Truly loved him. That knowledge rolled through her, settled into her, in a fit that told her what she’d known all along.
They’d always loved each other.
At this moment, she didn’t doubt that he loved her back. No matter what problems, disagreements or betrayals they might have weathered, the bond was there. She wished she could rejoice in that, but the fear was still rooted deep inside her, the inescapable sense of foreboding.
Elliot pushed past the emergency personnel and...heaven only knew who else because she couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone except Elliot walking toward her, the scent of smoke tingling in her nose as the sea breeze blew in. The sun shone down on the man she loved, bright Mediterranean rays glinting off the silver trim on his racing gear with each bold step closer.
She vaguely registered the colonel flashing some kind of badge that had the security cop stepping aside and letting her stumble past. She regained her footing and sprinted toward Elliot.
“Thank God you’re okay.” Slamming into his chest, she wrapped her arms around him.
He kissed her once, firmly, reassuringly, then walked her away from the sidelines, the crowd parting, or maybe someone made the path for them. She couldn’t think of anything but the man beside her, the warmth of him, the sound of his heartbeat, the scent of his aftershave and perspiration.
Tears of relief streaming down her face, she didn’t bother asking where they were going. She trusted him, the father of her child, and honestly didn’t care where they went as long as she could keep her hands on him, her cheek pressed to his chest, the fire-retardant material of his uniform bristly against her skin. He pushed through a door into a private office. She didn’t care whose or how he’d chosen the stark space filled with only a wooden desk, a black leather sofa and framed racing photos.
Briskly, he closed and locked the door. “Lucy Ann, deep breaths or you’re going to pass out. I’m okay.” His voice soothed over her in waves. “It was just a minor accident. The other guy’s axle broke and he slammed into me. Everyone’s fine.”
She swiped her wrists over her damp eyes, undoubtedly smearing mascara all over her face. “When there’s smoke—possibly fire—involved, I wouldn’t call that minor.”
Elliot cradled her face in his gloved hands. “My hair didn’t even get singed.”
“I’m not in a joking mood.” She sketched jerky hands over him, needing to touch him.
“Then help me out.” He stalled one of her hands and kissed her palm. “What can I say to reassure you?”
“Nothing,” she decided. “There’s nothing to say right now.”
It was a time for action.
She tugged her hand free and looped her arms around his neck again and drew his face down to hers. She kissed him. More than a kiss. A declaration and affirmation that he was alive. She needed to connect with him, even if only on a physical level.
“Lucy Ann,” he muttered against her mouth, “are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Are you planning to go back to the race?” she asked, gripping his shoulders.
“My car’s in no shape to race. You know that. But are you cert—”
She kissed him quiet. She was so tired of doubts and questions and reservations. Most of all, she couldn’t bear for this to be about the past anymore. To feel more pain for him. For herself. For how damn awful their childhoods had been—his even worse than hers.
Hell, she’d lived through those years with him, doing her best to protect him by taking the brunt of the blame when she could. But when the adults wouldn’t step up and make things right, there was only so much a kid could do.
They weren’t children any longer, but she still couldn’t stand to think of him getting hurt in any way. She would do anything to keep danger away, to make them both forget everything.
At this moment, that “anything” involved mind-blowing sex against the door. Fast and intense. No fun games or pretty fairy tales. This was reality.
She tugged at his zipper, and he didn’t protest this time. He simply drew back long enough to tug his racing gloves off with his teeth. With her spine pressed to the door, he bunched up her silky dress until a cool breeze blew across her legs. A second later, he twisted and snapped her panties free, the scrap of lace giving way to him as fully as she did.
But she took as much as she gave. She nudged the zipper wider, nudging his uniform aside until she released his erection, steely and hot in her hand. Then, he was inside her.
Her head thunked against the metal panel, her eyes sliding closed as she lost herself in sensation. She glided a foot along his calf, up farther until her leg hitched around him, drawing him deeper, deeper in a frenzied meeting of their bodies.
All too soon, the pleasure built to a crescendo, a wave swelling on the tide of emotions, fear and adrenaline. And yes, love. She buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hold back the shout rolling up her throat. His hoarse encouragement in her ear sent pleasure crashing over her. Feeling him tense in her arms, shudder with his own completion, sent a fresh tingle of aftershocks through her. Her body clamped around him in an instinctive need to keep him with her.
With each panting breath, she drew in the scent of them. His forehead fell to rest against the door, her fingers playing with the close-shorn hair at the base of his neck. Slowly, her senses allowed in the rest of the world, the dim echo outside reminding her they couldn’t hide in here forever.
They couldn’t hide from the truth any longer.
Even as she took him now, felt the familiar draw of this man she’d known for as long as she could remember, she also realized she didn’t belong here in this world now. She couldn’t keep him because she couldn’t stay.
No matter how intrinsic the connection and attraction between them, this wasn’t the life she’d dreamed of when they’d built those fairy-tale forts and castles. In her fantasies, they’d all just looked like a real home. A safe haven.
She loved him. She always had. But she’d spent most of her adult life following him. It was time to take charge of her life, for herself and for her son.
It was time to go home.
As Elliot angled back and started to smile at her, she captured his face in her hands and shook her head.
“Elliot, I can’t do this anymore, trying to build a life on fairy tales. I need something more, a real life, and maybe that sounds boring to you, but I know who I am now. I know the life I want to live and it isn’t here.”
His eyes searched hers, confused and a little angry. “Lucy Ann—”
She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “I don’t want to argue with you. Not like last time. We can’t do that to each other again—or to Eli.”
He clasped her hand, a pulse throbbing double time in his neck. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
God, she wanted to believe he could, but right now with the scent of smoke clinging to his clothes and the adrenaline still crackling in the air, she couldn’t see any other way. “No, Elliot. I’m afraid not.”
Slowly, he released her hand. His face went somber, resigned. He understood her in that same perfect and tragic way she understood him. He already knew.
They’d just said goodbye.
* * *
The next day, Elliot didn’t know how he was going to say goodbye. But the time had come. He sat on Aunt Carla’s front porch swing while Lucy Ann fed Eli and put him down for a nap.
God, why couldn’t he and Lucy Ann have had some massive argument that made it easier to walk away, like before?
Instead, there had been this quiet, painful realization that she was leaving him. No matter how many fairy-tale endings he tried to create for her, she’d seen through them all. After their crazy, out-of-control encounter against the door, they’d returned to the hotel. She’d packed. He’d arranged for his private jet to fly them home to South Carolina.
Lucy Ann had made a token offer to travel on her own, not to disrupt his schedule—not to distract him. The implication had been there. The accident had happened because his life was fracturing. He couldn’t deny it.
But he’d damn well insisted on bringing them back here himself.
The front door creaked open, and he looked up sharply. Lucy Ann’s aunt walked through. He sagged back in his swing, relieved to have the inevitable farewell delayed for a few more minutes. He knew Lucy Ann would let him be a part of his son’s world, but this was not how he wanted their lives to play out.
Carla settled next to him on the swing, her T-shirt appliquéd with little spring chickens. “Glad to know you survived in one piece.”
“It was a minor accident,” he insisted again, the wind rustling the oak trees in time with the groan of the chains holding the swing. The scent of Carolina jasmine reminded him of Lucy Ann.
“I meant that kidnapping stunt your friends staged. Turning your whole life upside down.”
Right now, it didn’t feel like he’d walked away unscathed. The weight on his chest pressed heavier with every second, hadn’t let up since he’d been pulled from his damaged car. “I’ll provide for Lucy Ann and Eli.”
“That was never in question.” She patted his knee. “I’m glad you got out of here all those years ago.”
“I thought you wanted Lucy Ann to stay? That’s always been my impression over the years.”
“I do believe she belongs here. But we’re not talking about her.” She folded her arms over the row of cheerful chickens. “I’m talking about what you needed as a teenager. You had to leave first before you could find any peace here. Although, perhaps it was important for Lucy Ann to leave for a while, as well.”
For the Sake of Their Son Page 15