‘I haven’t lost my edge, Morgan.’ Now she’d gone too far. He dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. ‘I own it.’
‘And for as long as you continue to believe that, you’re off the team.’
‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘I’ve lost my edge. Now can I drive?’
‘Classic reverse psychology,’ she said, a chuckle in her voice. ‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘Hey,’ Sebastian replied, deciding to let her have this one as a draw. ‘You’re the expert. It’s been good to talk to you. But I’ve got to run.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ve got some business to take care of.’
‘Care to tell me what it is?’
Sebastian rubbed his hand over his chest as an image of Nic flashed into his mind. He shoved it aside, forced himself to focus. Not even Morgan, with all her diplomas, was a match for the power of the sponsor’s cheque book. He’d let himself get distracted that morning. Time to remember what he was here for. He smiled. ‘No. But you might want to keep an eye on the papers.’
He hung up before she could say anything. He sat for a moment, drumming his fingers on the desk top and tried to focus. It was no good. All he could think about was Nic Sinclair and those short shorts and that kiss. So he checked in with the cleaners, pulled on his bike leathers and went to do something about it.
Chapter Four
By the time she’d showered, dressed, combed her hair and binned several slices of burnt toast, Nic was ready to face whatever Sebastian Prince could throw at her. She’d decided not to mention that kiss. If she didn’t talk about it, and he didn’t talk about it either, it would be like it had never happened. And if she couldn’t stop thinking about it, well, that information was on a need to know basis only.
Today would be a normal day. Nic opened up the garage at eight, just as she did every morning, checked the answering machine and pulled on her overalls. She’d no idea what time Sebastian would turn up, so she’d get on with what she had to do and he could please himself.
But when he came strolling in at eight oh five carrying a white paper bag with twisted corners and sat himself behind her desk, her mind went completely blank. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We need to talk.’
‘What about?’
He set the bag down on top of the desk and tore the top, releasing the smell of fried bacon. ‘The accounts, for one thing. I need to see all the paperwork. I assume you’ve got paperwork?’
‘A mountain of it,’ Nic replied, eyeing the sandwich and yanking the zip on her overalls up to her chin. ‘Didn’t you go through all the financials before you bought Ella’s half?’
‘There wasn’t time. And I didn’t really care. A friend needed help. I helped. End of.’ He leaned back in her chair, put his feet up on her desk, totally relaxed in faded jeans and black polo shirt.
‘Fine. Anything else?’
‘Strategy.’
Nic’s fingers stilled on the poppers of her overalls. ‘Pardon?’
‘What are our respective roles? Who’s in charge?’
‘I am,’ she replied. ‘I would’ve thought that was obvious.’
‘Hate to knock you off your pedestal, Nicola, but this is a partnership. And I can do things for this business that you can’t.’
‘Such as?’ Nic folded her arms. This was her domain. Hers. When she walked into that workshop, she was the best. Knowing that had always kept her going, allowed her to have some self-confidence, some self-respect, even on the days when it was in very short supply. Sebastian Prince could not simply waltz in here and take that from her.
‘I know people,’ he said, as if that explained everything. ‘Which is why you need me.
‘Have you always been this arrogant?’
‘Pretty much.’
Nic stared hard at the wall and counted to ten. She couldn’t really call him on his arrogance, because he’d earned the right to it. She’d followed his career closely enough to know that behind the wheel, he was second to none. He had it all, and that ego was an integral part of it. But how she wished he wasn’t so fiercely confident. It made her feel like a rabbit facing down a lion. A lion she’d tried to take a bite out of.
‘For god’s sake, sit down,’ he said. ‘There’s something else we need to talk about.’
Nic moved stiffly towards the desk and sat on the edge of the seat usually reserved for customers. He pushed half of the sandwich towards her. Her stomach rumbled. ‘You cannot put in a full day’s work on coffee,’ he said gently.
His tone caught her off guard. ‘How did you…never mind.’ Her stomach rumbled again, louder this time.
‘Eat.’
‘Used to getting your own way, aren’t you?’
‘Eat!’
‘Okay already!’ The bacon was crisp and smothered in ketchup. A little sound escaped her as it touched her tongue, and the salty sweetness filled her mouth.
‘Right,’ Sebastian said. ‘Now I’ve got your attention, we’re going to talk about that kiss.’
Nic chewed fast and swallowed faster. ‘No we’re not.’
‘Yes we are. Is it going to be a regular thing?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘So it was a one off?’
‘Of course it was. I’d never have done it if…’ Nic froze. Why was she even having this conversation with him? She wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn into it any further. As far as she was concerned, yesterday was ancient history. She set the sandwich back down on the paper.
‘If what?’ Sebastian linked his fingers behind his head.
Her skin burned where his gaze touched it. And even where it didn’t. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forcing her legs to work, Nic got up and walked over to the filing cabinet by the door. She yanked open the top drawer, grabbed a random handful of files. She couldn’t stand a second more of this conversation. It was too humiliating, too dangerous.
She felt his breath brush against the nape of her neck a heartbeat before his fingers brushed against hers and he took hold of the files. Nic whipped her hands down to her sides so fast they slapped against her thighs. Her whole body felt tight. He was close, so close, and she’d been so lost in her fear that she hadn’t even heard him move, hadn’t had time to prepare.
‘If we’re going to work together,’ he said, ‘you have to be civilised. I get that you’re hacked off with your sister but it’s not my problem.’
Nic eased the drawer closed. ‘And?’
He set a hand to her shoulder, spun her round. ‘Answer the damn question!’
‘I would never have…done it if I had known you knew who I was.’ Nic pulled a face. That sounded insanely complicated even to her ears, and she knew what she meant. But it was bad enough that she’d let him get that much out of her. He certainly wasn’t going to get more. ‘Let me know when you’ve finished with that lot.’ She gestured to the files in his hand. ‘I’ve got plenty more. I don’t want you to get bored. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.’
Sebastian opened the top folder and glanced at the contents, then back up at her. Nic stuck out her chin and silently dared him to push it, to question her further. She let out a silent breath when he stepped to the side. She dropped her gaze to the floor as she edged past him, not wanting to see his expression. If he thought it was funny, she’d have to laugh, show she thought it was all a big joke, and she didn’t think she could do it right now.
She was halfway across the garage, her heart rate just beginning to slow down, when she heard his yell.
‘I knew exactly who you were. And for the record, I’m not sorry you kissed me.’
Sebastian flicked through the paperwork, but his mind wasn’t on it. The office, the filing cabinet, the computer — that was Ella’s domain. He’d bet money on it. Nic ruled the workshop and, damn it, that was where he wanted to be.
She was ruling it right now. He heard the hiss of the hydraulics as the ramp hoisted her first patient up into the air, and he itched to get out there
and start tinkering.
Pretending she hadn’t kissed him yesterday didn’t suit him at all. He didn’t like the dishonesty of it, the suggestion that it was something to be ashamed of. Why was it such a big drama? It hadn’t even been that much of a kiss. No tongues had been involved. Sebastian slapped the folder down on the desk and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He needed to pull his brain out of his boxers and focus.
The administration had to be done. It was clear that Nic wasn’t on top of it, and Sebastian had no intention of doing anything so mind numbingly boring, but the fix was easy. Ten minutes on the internet and he’d found a local number jockey more than willing to handle it. Now what?
Helping himself to coffee, Sebastian leaned against the doorframe and watched his new business partner at work. Disposable orange gloves hid her hands; thin white wires trailed from her ears and disappeared under the collar of her dirty blue overalls. She’d pulled a trolley close, loaded it with tools. She reached for one now, weighed it in her palm for a second, then set it to the uppermost bolt of a rusted brake calliper.
His whole body went tight.
She set her shoulders, determination sharpening her cheekbones, then gave the spanner an almighty push. For a second he thought the bolt might win.
But it didn’t.
He’d watched mechanics take a car apart and put it together a thousand times before, but not one of those times had ever given him a hard on.
And he definitely had one revving up now.
Pushing his hair back from his face, Sebastian knocked back a mouthful of coffee, unable to stop looking as she attacked another bolt and then another, lying each part carefully on the trolley with the ease of a total pro.
She glanced in his direction and for a split second, their gazes locked and Sebastian got a new definition of hard. Face flushed, she grabbed the trolley handle and rushed round to the other side of the car, dragging it behind her.
Sebastian shoved his hair back from his face and slowly exhaled. Having a business partner was going to be a lot more interesting than he’d anticipated. Draining the last of his coffee, he walked back into the office and sat on the desk, wondering what his next move should be. Not a move on Nic, he decided. Not yet, anyway. So what? He had the pink porno palace at his disposal, but he didn’t want to leave the garage. And he’d told Morgan to watch the papers. He had to come up with something which would keep him here whilst hacking off the team sponsors and annoying his sister.
When the answer came to him, it was so obvious Sebastian wondered if the doctors had lied about his mental capacities being unaffected by the accident, because only an idiot would have failed to see what was staring them right in the face.
He grinned as he picked up the phone. If this didn’t get the sponsors panicking, nothing would.
By lunchtime, the new brakes were almost fitted. Nic pulled off her protective gloves and wiggled her fingers. Stupid things made her palms sweat, but pretty hands were a must have for Misses and Motors, which made them a must have for her too. She turned to her tool box, selected a sprocket, and tried not to think about Sebastian filling her office with his heat and scent and general masculine arrogance.
He seemed to know precisely which buttons to press to switch her from calm to crazy, and what was worse, she got the distinct impression he’d enjoyed doing it.
She was pretty sure he was up to something right now, given that he’d walked out with a hosepipe a while ago. It wasn’t that she cared what he was doing, particularly, as long as he stayed out of her way. But the noise was distracting. She could turn her iPod back on to cover it, but then she wouldn’t be able to hear if he decided to take one of her cars for a test drive.
A loud cheer made its way into the garage. Nic slammed her wrench down on the tool box and marched outside, curiosity getting the better of her, which was beyond annoying. What on earth was going on out here? There was plenty of paperwork that needed doing if he was bored.
‘Sebastian!’ she yelled, as the shade of the interior gave way to the warm June light of the street. ‘What the…’ The words died in her throat as she was greeted by the sight of Sebastian, dripping wet sponge in hand, leaning over the bonnet of her gorgeous E-type Jag that should be tucked safely away in the showroom. A group of boys in scout’s uniforms surrounded her Porsche with buckets and sponges and foam.
Strangers with cameras stood on the street, shouting and pointing. People had spilled out of the shops in order to get a better look.
What the hell did he think he was doing?
‘Hey, Nic.’ Sebastian tossed the sponge into the bucket by his feet. ‘Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Nicola Sinclair, my business partner and chief mechanic. I think you’ll agree, there is nothing sexier than a woman who knows what to do with her hands.’
Nic knew exactly what she’d like to do with her hands at that moment —wring Sebastian’s bloody neck. ‘What is going on here?’ she asked, as calmly and politely as she could, fighting the urge to declare war on the scouts. If they scratched the paintwork…
‘I’m drumming up publicity for the garage,’ Sebastian informed her, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans and flashing a big grin. ‘Get over here.’
Nic stayed exactly where she was. ‘What for?’
‘I bet the camera loves you.’
‘No,’ she said rapidly. ‘It most certainly does not. And you are not getting a picture of me looking like this.’
‘Looking like what?’ he said, as he started to walk towards her. The cameras followed him, as if they were attached to his muscular torso by invisible wires.
‘Please, Sebastian, just…’ But it was too late. Nic started to back away. The last thing she wanted was a photo of her in her ugly overalls with her hair in a state appearing anywhere anyone might see it. She took another step back, another, until her foot caught on something.
She glanced down, then back at Sebastian, her heart pounding right up into her throat.
‘Nic,’ he said, green eyes fire bright and full of mischief. ‘Don’t make me come and get you.’
‘Don’t come any closer.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or this!’ With one rapid movement, Nic bent her knee and wrapped her fingers round the hosepipe that snaked past her feet. The water dribbling from the end instantly became a jet when she jammed her thumb over it.
He swore as the cold stream hit him square on the chest, his arms flying up to cover his face, the roar of laughter from their audience booming in her ears. ‘Nic,’ he said, his voice low, as water continued to bounce off his chest and stomach. ‘Put that down.’
‘Or what?’ Nic challenged him, but she didn’t feel at all confident. All her bravado disappeared into a haze of dread as he lowered his arm and fixed his gaze on her. Her fingers trembled. The hose fell to the floor, flapping around her feet like a skinny yellow snake before finally settling down and sending a stream of water in the direction of the photographers.
It occurred to Nic then that she’d aimed in the wrong direction, but it was too late to fix it now. Cameras pointed at her, then back at Sebastian, then back again. Her stomach turned over. They were taking pictures of her. Nic hated having her photograph taken, hated knowing that her every flaw was being captured. The camera didn’t lie.
She knew she wasn’t that attractive. But at least most of the time she could get enough confidence together to survive the day. She was good at her job. It was something that didn’t require looks, only knowledge and skill, and she had both of those. Ella was the pretty one.
Ella wouldn’t have panicked at the sight of a camera. She wouldn’t have done what Nic did next, either, which was to turn on her heel and run at full pelt back into the garage. But then Ella was perfect.
And Nic was not.
She let out a silent scream as she headed back to the rear of the garage and the car she’d been working on. Her mind was a jumble of mixed emotions, but one shouted louder than all the rest.
Anxiety. Shocking, sickening anxiety. A thundering in her chest that made it hard to breathe, and the little voice whispering look what you did, you stupid, ugly cow. Footsteps sounded on the garage floor, loud and squelchy. Her heart thundering, Nic grabbed a random spanner from her workbench and hopped down into the pit. ‘I’m busy,’ she yelled. ‘Go away.’
The footsteps came to a halt at the edge of the pit. Soggy red Converse. Wet denim turned dark, clinging to long, well-muscled legs. Nic fixed her gaze on the underside of Mrs Bawden’s Fiesta and located a likely looking bolt at the side of the exhaust pipe. She set the spanner to it.
‘Not bloody likely,’ came the response. His voice was husky, and riddled with warning. It made her shake. ‘Get up here.’
‘I’m working.’
Sebastian sighed. ‘Have it your way,’ he said. And then he went quiet. Alarmingly, suspiciously quiet.
From her position under the car, Nic couldn’t see anything higher than mid-thigh, and seeing how the wet denim clung to heavy, well-developed quadriceps made her mouth go dry. Then something slapped down against the concrete by his feet. Something white and dripping wet, rolled up in to a lopsided ball.
Nic stared at it for a moment, utterly confused. And then her mess of a brain figured out what it was. Just as Sebastian dropped into the pit.
Naked from the waist up.
His skin was lusciously tanned. Tiny droplets of water clung to it, dotting the curve of his pectorals, the bumps of muscle in his stomach. A few cheeky drops were sneaking down to the waistband of jeans which hung low and heavy on his hips. The tan stopped an inch or so above the denim, but the narrow line of damp, dark hair that started at his bellybutton did no such thing.
It went all the way down. And if she thought the wet denim defined his thighs, it was nothing compared to what it did to his crotch.
‘Speechless looks good on you,’ he said. ‘I like it. You should attack me with a hosepipe more often.’
‘I did not attack you!’ Nic ripped her gaze away from his naked body and fixed it firmly back on the engine. ‘Anyway,’ she added with a sniff, ‘you deserved it.’
She Who Dares Page 4