‘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.’
‘Usually women don’t say that until we’re past the kissing and well into the sex.’
Nic felt like her eyes might pop out of her head. That was, if her face didn’t burst into flames first. ‘You know who I am,’ she managed, each breath too shallow, too fast, her heart battering her ribs like a demented bird.
‘Of course I know who you are.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘Why didn’t you?’
She spun away from him, took several clumsy steps forward, desperate for somewhere to hide, desperately light-headed. How could she have been so stupid? ‘You didn’t know who I was earlier,’ she challenged him. ‘I know you didn’t.’
‘Not right away,’ he admitted. ‘But it didn’t take me long to work it out. So why don’t you tell me the truth, Nic. What the hell is going on here?’
Nic straightened her spine. She dried her palms on the sides of her cut-offs, then she turned to face him. It wasn’t easy, but she did it. ‘You asked for a test drive. I gave you a test drive. Anything else is none of your business, Mr Prince.’
She wished she hadn’t said his name. It felt strange in her mouth. Personal. He turned his head to the side, stared across the forecourt, the mouth that had been so soft when she’d kissed it set hard. The strong line of his neck was framed perfectly by the pop of his collar.
Through the silence, she could hear herself breathing far too loud.
Then he turned his gaze back to her. ‘Why did you kiss me?’
‘I…’ Nic faltered.
‘Come on,’ he challenged. ‘Truth or dare.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a simple little game,’ he said. ‘Surely you’ve heard of it. You pick one. Truth or dare. Either you answer my question, or you take a forfeit.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Nic took a step away. A big step. Her knees felt weak, her entire body still reacting to the way his lips had felt against hers.
‘Dare, then.’ He looked her up and down, his gaze touching her bare legs, her shorts, her mouth. An unnerving little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. ‘I know just what to suggest.’
‘I kissed you because I wanted to know what it would be like,’ she snapped out, the thought of a dare just too terrifying. ‘Happy now?’
‘Where is Ella?’
Nic folded her arms. ‘Why do you want to know?’ She steeled herself for his answer, pretty sure she knew what it would be.
‘I need to see her,’ he muttered, his brow furrowing.
Bingo. At least she’d had one kiss from Sebastian Prince before he declared his undying love for her sister, she thought wryly, barely able to believe her own stupidity. ‘Why?’ she asked, clearly a glutton for punishment.
‘Because I want to know what the hell is going on here! I want to know why there was a thirty-thousand-pound car left unlocked on the forecourt, and how many other punters you’ve lied to. I want to know exactly how many cars there are, what repairs they need, and what state the accounts are in.’
Nic stared at him in horror, a nauseating rush of panic hitting her as she stood on the precipice of her worst nightmare. She fought the bile rising in her throat, and the thump of her accelerating heart. ‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘It is my business,’ he said. ‘She sold her share of the garage to me.’
&
nbsp; Chapter Three
‘No,’ she said, her ears ringing. ‘No. That can’t be right.’
‘I’m afraid it is.’ Sebastian turned, ran his fingertips over the bonnet of the Porsche. He understood team dynamics, knew how to work with people, but then he’d never had one of his colleagues step right up and kiss him, and he wasn’t entirely sure what protocol was. He was pretty damned sure about one thing though. When Nic Sinclair had put her mouth on his, he’d liked it. ‘Signed, sealed, paid for. Half of everything here belongs to me.’
‘No,’ she said again, louder this time. ‘You’ll just have to give it back.’
‘Why?’
‘Ella isn’t thinking straight,’ she said.
I know the feeling. Sebastian stepped away from the Porsche and strolled over to look at the delicious E-Type Jag. Once the shock had worn off, there’d been a split second where he’d almost taken the kiss deeper, but he’d stopped himself just in time. Copping off with an ex-girlfriend’s sister was not part of the plan, even if that sister had a surprisingly lush rear end.
His groin throbbed just thinking about it.
‘She’s a grown woman,’ he said curtly, wishing the blood would redirect back to his brain. ‘It’s all legal.’
‘I don’t care.’ She grabbed a chamois leather from a shelf on the wall and set to polishing the Porsche, stretching across the roof. With each swipe of the cloth, her bum swayed from side to side and her shorts hitched up higher. ‘I don’t want you as a business partner.’
And I don’t want a business partner I want to shag, thought Sebastian grumpily, but these are the cards we’ve been dealt. ‘Sorry,’ he said shortly. ‘That’s the way it is.’ Until he was back on the circuit, that much was non-negotiable.
But it didn’t mean he had to stand around watching her and the Porsche engaging in foreplay.
He’d go find something more constructive to do.
In a minute or so.
Why had Ella sold her share of the business to him? Why? After a restless night during which she’d tangled herself in the sheets until well after midnight before giving up and watching repeats of America’s Next Top Model until she’d eventually fallen asleep on the sofa, Nic felt several shades less than human.
She also had the concentration span of a toddler for the second day in a row, plus two MOTs and a ton of paperwork to do. Although Sinclair’s specialised in vintage high performance cars, Nic wasn’t fussy. She’d fix whatever was brought in, and as she was the only mechanic in Lostwithiel, she was never short of work.
If she was totally honest, right now she was swamped with it. Lying on the sofa in her pyjamas and feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to get it done, though she had picked up some interesting eyeliner tips from her TV marathon so it hadn’t been a total waste. She tried to imagine herself, hands buried deep in an engine, feathery lashes fluttering under a perfect flick of black. It played in her head in slow motion, in a smoke filled, glossy fantasy which was absolutely perfect until Sebastian appeared, stripped to the waist and smeared with oil, every inch of him hard muscled and gleaming.
He beckoned her forwards. ‘Truth or dare.’
Heat rushed through her. ‘Get lost.’
‘Is that any way to talk to your business partner?’
If she’d started talking to imaginary people, she really had to get a grip. Forcing her eyes to open, Nic swung her legs down off the sofa and pinched the bridge of her nose.
She tried to persuade her brain to start planning. She gave up when her mobile started to ring. Leaning to the side, she grabbed it from the top of the pile of old copies of Classic Car magazine and checked the screen.
Then took a deep breath before she answered. ‘Ella. How are you?’
‘Never better. I’m in California. San Francisco, to be exact. It’s so beautiful here, Nic. The weather is just amazing. Everything is amazing.’
‘Glad to hear you’re doing well.’ Nic hesitated before she let the next few words rush off her tongue. ‘Thanks for dumping me in it.’
Ella made a strange sound. ‘Yeah, about that. Have you had your coffee yet?’
‘No.’ And couldn’t she just feel it.
‘Then for goodness sake get some. I’ll call you back in five.’
Nic held the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. Ella was the one who had done a bunk. What gave her the right to be snippy? Autopilot took Nic into the kitchen and she changed out the filter in the coffee machine and set it going, and watched as it dripped far, far too slowly, her anger rising with every drop. She was the one who’d been left standing in front of the fan, left to run the business alone.
Yet when her phone started to ring, Nic paused before picking it up, giving herself that moment to shove her emotions back down. Years of practice helped. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to pay for it later. ‘Yup,’ she said, pulling the jug out of the machine and splashing coffee into a mug that needed a wash.
‘Got your coffee?’
‘I’m working on it.’
‘Work faster,’ Ella replied. ‘Has Sebastian turned up yet?’
Nic sank the contents of the mug and refilled it, ignoring how just his name made her stomach clench. ‘Yesterday.’
‘Excellent. How is he fitting in?’
Like a jet engine in a Mini Cooper. ‘Perfectly.’
Ella laughed. ‘I thought he might.’
Nic dug her nails into her palm, fought to keep a lid on her temper. ‘When are you coming home, Ella?’
‘When I’ve finished having fun. And there’s a lot of fun to be had out here. Could take a while.’
‘You can’t have fun here?’
Ella sighed. ‘No. You’ll just have to have it on my behalf. Look, I’ve got to run. Take care of yourself, Nic. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Especially not with Sebastian.’ And with that, she hung up, and all the questions that Nic had wanted to ask, should have asked, came flooding into her head. Like, why did you run off and ditch your responsibilities? Why on earth did you sell the garage to Sebastian Prince, when you know damn well he’s still interested in you?
Why did I kiss him?
Nic slammed her phone down on the worktop and dumped her mug in the sink. Ella had everything, was everything Nic could never be. Pretty. Popular. Perfect. While Nic had been given a through education in the workings of the internal combustion engine with Ella’s dad, Ella had had shopping trips and manicures and learned how to be a girl with Nic’s mum. It wasn’t that Nic hadn’t been interested in engines, or had wanted manicures. But she’d wanted to fit in, and how could she, when she was more boy than girl?
It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself fiercely. Bottom line is she’s gone. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t living in Ella’s shadow, and she had more important things to worry about than how bright the light might be.
Like shopping trips, manicures, the workings of the internal combustion engine and the man she should never have kissed.
Propping his feet up on the sweeping glass topped desk, Sebastian held the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. Upstairs, the cleaners were still shovelling away the dust, testimony to how long this place had been unoccupied. They’d started early, but he hadn’t been asleep when they arrived. Ever since the accident his body clock had been shot to pieces, and he’d spent most of the previous night watching bad TV and trying not to think about persuading Nic Sinclair to kiss him again.
Maybe he’d throw a party, something rowdy and uncivilised that went on through the night and well into the next day, stop himself from thinking so much. He’d thrown plenty of those when he’d been a teenager and his parents had been predictably absent, hopping round the world and persuading senior executives to swap their high stress, high pay jobs for other high stress, high pay jobs. He had to give credit where it was due — as head-hunters his parents had been extremely successful. As parents, they’d been extremely absent. Still, he’d turned out pretty well.
‘Hello,’ said a voice in his ear. Crisp, educated, snappingly female.
‘Hey Doctor Morgan,’ Sebastian replied, settling back in his chair. ‘What’s up?’
‘The point of therapy, Sebastian, is that I ask the questions.’
‘I’ve never understood why that is.’
‘Because you’re the one who needs answers. So how are you, big brother?’
Yesterday he’d have had a clear answer to that question. Now, one small kiss from Nic Sinclair later, he wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Confused,’ he decided. ‘It’s a new experience for me.’
A soft, tinkling laugh came through the phone. ‘Interesting.’
Hmm. That wasn’t the word Sebastian would use. ‘I want back on the team,’ he said lazily, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the monogram painted on the ceiling. He knew Morgan wasn’t about to agree, but he saw no harm in winding her up about it. ‘I’m physically fit. There’s no reason for me to not be driving. There’s a race next weekend. I want in.’
‘No,’ came the predictable response. ‘You’re not ready.’
Sebastian faked a yawn. Knowing what she’d say and not being pissed off about it were two different things. ‘I was born ready.’
‘Seb, get real. Six weeks ago you nearly killed yourself. You are not ready to get back on the circuit.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion.’
‘Yes,’ she said curtly. ‘My opinion. One which Fernando takes very seriously.’
Sebastian knew his team boss as well as he knew himself. There was only one thing Fernando Massi cared about: winning. And that wasn’t going to happen with a rookie driver behind the wheel. ‘Respectfully, Doctor Morgan, it’s not up to you. It’s up to Fernando. And we both know he’ll give me the drive.’
‘Yes, we do,’ she agreed. ‘Which is why Fernando agreed to let me have the final say on when you get back on the circuit.’
Sebastian found a stray paperclip on top of the desk, flicked it in the direction of the bin. ‘Not one of his smarter decisions.’
‘You’re too reckless. Dangerous, even. You’ve lost your edge.’
She Who Dares Page 3