She pulled back. ‘I thought so.’
‘I’ve always liked weird.’
Nic stared at him, forehead creasing. ‘No-one really likes weird, Sebastian. We just like to think we do, so we won’t feel bad about how screwed up we are.’
He took another taste from her and started the engine. He revved it hard then reversed out of the driveway at speed, the wide tyres kicking up a tidal wave of gravel. A perfectly executed handbrake turn spun them around in the road. Then he really let rip. And tried not to think about the truth in what she’d said.
‘I won’t ask where you two have been,’ Ella said, swirling her tongue round the outside of what had to be her third cornet complete with chocolate flake and sprinkles.
‘We went for a drive,’ Nic refused to blush. ‘The Ferrari gets upset if it has to sit for too long.’
‘It sat in the garage for six months,’ her stepsister pointed out. ‘I never heard it complain.’
‘That’s because it’s the bottling-things-up type.’ Nic settled herself down on the grass, bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them. ‘Did we miss anything?’
‘The pet show and the bake off.’ A voice blared out over the tannoy, a burbled noise that seemed to miss every third word. ‘That’s us.’ Ella got to her feet, held out her hand. ‘Come on. Moment of truth.’
‘Given that I nearly ran over a judge, I imagine I’ll be last,’ Nic said, not moving.
‘That judge is a pompous arse. Everyone wants to run him over. Come on.’
Obviously ‘no’ wasn’t an acceptable answer. Nic got to her feet on legs that still weren’t quite steady. She smoothed her shirt into her shorts, shook back her hair, moistened her lips and tasted Sebastian. The blush hit her cheeks before she could even think about controlling it.
‘Penny for them,’ Ella said, linking her arm through Nic’s and leading her in the direction of the little stage that had been set up for announcements.
‘Not for all the money in the world.’
‘Hmm,’ Ella replied. ‘Remember when we used to come to this when we were younger?’ She waved in the direction of the stage. ‘It’s improved a bit since then.’
‘We’ve all improved since then,’ Nic replied, realising quite how true that was. The person she’d been as a teenager seemed very far away now, almost as if those years and that life had been lived by someone else. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something, as if everything was about to change. She swallowed he fear in her throat.
Ella pulled her to the front of the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage, beaming and apologising profusely as she pushed and shoved and generally elbowed her way through. She exuded easy confidence but Nic finally understood it was anything but. This was the way Ella had learned to cope with life. Underneath it all, she was no more certain of herself than Nic was. They’d just responded to situations differently. She’d thought Ella had it all, being the pretty one, and all the while Ella had hated her for being the smart one. But they were just names. Just labels. They weren’t real.
A prickle at the back of her neck told her Sebastian was in the crowd somewhere and Nic turned her head, searching for those sparkling green eyes and that shock of dark hair. Sure enough, there he was, right at the back. He was standing slightly behind everyone else, phone pressed to his ear. His brows lifted in acknowledgement when their gazes met and that snapshot of his eyes told her so much.
Sebastian understood her in a way she didn’t understand herself. He accepted her, bad hair, bad attitude, car obsession and all. And when he touched her, she felt…soothed. As long as she had that she didn’t need anything else. She could be disqualified from the contest and given a lifelong ban and it wouldn’t matter.
But she still found it hard to breathe when the judge stepped on the stage. He tapped the microphone and the entire crowd clapped their hands over their ears and let out a synchronised groan. He flicked through the pages on his clipboard, apparently in no rush. Enjoying his moment in the spotlight no doubt.
Maybe she’d gone about it the wrong way, but in her gut she knew she’d had a point to make earlier. The contest was outdated and sexist and making women feel like rubbish for not being attractive enough was bang out of order. Nic stuck her chin out and folded her arms as the judge began to speak. She stared deliberately at his face, noticing the way he avoided making eye contact with her. It was almost funny, the way his face purpled when she stuck her tongue out at him. She was tempted to give him the finger for good measure, and was wrestling with the last thread of self-control when he read out a name. Third place. And then another. Second place.
And then another. First place. Nicola Sinclair.
Her whole body went numb, and her ears filled with the thunder of her pulse. This couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be real. Could it? Ella screamed, whooped, hugged her tight and hard, and then Sebastian was with her too.
She fell against him. ‘You did it, princess,’ he muttered, pressing his mouth to her hair, then tilting up her chin as her body plastered itself against him. ‘You are officially the most beautiful woman here.’
‘With the best car,’ Nic heard herself say through the fog addling her brain. She could smell his skin, and the urge to angle her head in and lick his neck nearly undid her. This was all that mattered. How she felt when Sebastian looked at her. Being attractive wasn’t about being pretty; it was about being confident, about taking the risk. ‘Oh, god,’ she muttered. ‘Take me home, Sebastian. Get me the hell out of here. Take me home and get inside me.’
‘Feeling a little desperate, are we?’ His palms slid down her sides and back up again, skimming her hips and the sensitive sides of her breasts under the warm gold silk.
‘I’ve gone way past desperate,’ Nic said desperately. ‘I’ve entered a whole new place and trust me, it’s dangerous. You might not want to be around if I don’t get what I want.’
He pulled in a long breath and set her away from him. ‘I want to,’ he said. ‘Believe me; I want it more than anything. But…’
The bottom fell out of her stomach. ‘But what?’
Sebastian turned his head to the side, ran a hand over his jaw. ‘That was the team boss on the phone. They need me to drive.’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow. Flight to Barcelona leaves at eight.’
Nic stumbled back, finding her footing but only just. Her throat burned. Her whole body hurt. ‘You’re leaving,’ she said, and it was a statement, not a question. A tidal wave of hurt crashed down on her, and she didn’t know whether to throw up, burst into tears or punch him in the face.
‘I have to,’ he said, his jaw hard. Gone was the flash of wickedness, the spark in those bright green eyes. All she saw now was the same sad, angry man who had followed her every time she’d run out on him.
‘Why?’ she challenged him, not caring that the audience who had gathered to see the stage were now turning their attention very firmly on the newest spectacle — Lostwithiel’s resident celebrity having a domestic with the woman from the garage. ‘Why do you have to go?’
Chapter Eleven
‘Because it’s my job,’ he said shortly.
‘You’ve got a job!’ she said desperately. ‘At the garage! Or does that not matter to you? So, what, you own half of it but you get to dip in and out when you feel like it?’
‘It was always temporary. You know that.’
Yes, she had known that. She’d known things would crash to a halt, eventually. She just hadn’t let herself think about when eventually might come. It had become something that would happen in the far and distant future, in another lifetime, when she’d had her fill of Sebastian Prince.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Nic spun round to see the judge, not too close but closer than she ever wanted him to be. ‘What?’ she yelled.
‘If you could spare us a minute, Miss Sinclair, you need to come up on stage to collect your prize.’ His snotty disdain was like a slap to the fa
ce and for a moment, Nic reeled from it. Then she squared her shoulders and walked over to the wobbly wooden stairs that led up on to the stage. She didn’t look at Sebastian.
She air kissed and shook hands and pretended to smile, fumbled her certificate and the little silver cup that proclaimed her to be the Misses and Motors champion, and nodded dumbly when something was muttered about engraving and it was taken away.
She held a glass of champagne and posed for a photograph, all the while her mind reeling, locked in a strange place where nothing was real. Then she walked up to the microphone, thanked everyone for their support and forgot everything she’d wanted to say about a contest that judged women on their appearance.
Because deep down, in a secret little place, she was thrilled to have won. Being pretty was as important to her as it had ever been, and she needed that external validation, craved it. It was like a sickness inside her, that need for approval, and she finally had it.
She needed it more than ever now that Sebastian was leaving. Being with him was like winning the lottery and finding that it made life worse, not better. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
It was a disaster.
Sebastian strode away from the stage, mentally forcing himself to think through all the things he needed to do. The house needed to be locked up, the rental company contacted to let them know it would be empty. He needed his passport, a change of clothes.
He needed…
The ground under his feet was dry and hard and he kicked at it, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a choice to be made here. Walk away and he’d be back behind the wheel and back on the track by tomorrow morning. As he’d told Nic, it was his job. His career; the blood that pumped through his veins and what got him out of bed in the morning. Without that he was nothing.
Stay and he’d have Nic. With him. Under him. He’d get to make her come and he’d be inside her when she did. He burned at the thought of it, ached at the thought of getting up tomorrow morning and not seeing her. He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to look forward to seeing her every day, sharing coffee from the little coffee maker in her office, deliberately winding her up just to see what she’d do. And learning from her, enjoying the sheer pleasure of working with someone who viewed an engine as a living, breathing thing. He’d get that from the other drivers and the team mechanics, sure, but it wouldn’t be intimate. It wouldn’t mean anything. He couldn’t turn down the chance to drive. But he couldn’t walk away from Nic, either. There had to be another way.
And there was. Sebastian turned on his heel, started walking back towards the stage, gave up and broke into a run. The crowd was thinning, people ambling towards him, but he kept going, dodging past them when he could, ploughing through them when he couldn’t, his focus total. Only one thing mattered now.
She sat on the edge of the stage, hands holding the edge in a death grip, head bowed. Ella stood nearby with Adam, who had a protective arm slung around her shoulders. The two of them fixed him with a dark, cold look as he approached. Ella opened her mouth to speak but Sebastian held up a hand, cut her off. ‘Not now,’ he ground out. He moved in front of Nic, dropped to his knees on the grass and looked up at her.
‘Come with me,’ he said hoarsely, the twist of her mouth and pinch of her cheeks like a kick to the gut. He’d made her look that way. He’d put that pain there.
She folded her arms, a gesture of pure defiance, of self-protection. Shutting him out.
‘I don’t want to go without you,’ he said. ‘Please.’
‘But you’re leaving regardless,’ she said, and her voice was low and tight. It made his throat sting.
‘I have to.’ Sebastian put his hands on her knees, took in some of her warmth, her softness. ‘Come on, Nic. You’ve got to give me something. All I’m asking for is a little compromise.’
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a garage to run. I can’t just drop everything.’
‘You can close the place for a few days,’ Sebastian persisted. ‘Come on, Nic. You’re killing me here. I’m getting grass stains on my jeans and everything.’
One hand came up, pushed the hair back from his face. ‘I like you on your knees,’ she said. She gave him a smile, but it was brittle and he could see how hurt she was.
‘Come with me,’ Sebastian told her, ‘and you can have me on my knees whenever you want.’ He held his breath as he waited for her to respond.
‘I can’t be away for more than a couple of days. And I’ll expect you to work overtime to help me catch up when we get back.
‘Consider it done.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘I’m counting on it.’ He got to his feet, slid his hands around her waist and lifted her up and against him.
They wasted no time after that, saying quick goodbyes to Adam and Ella who promised to keep the garage ticking over until Nic got back, then speeding their way back to Lostwithiel in the Ferrari. Their first stop was Nic’s flat where she packed up a few days worth of clothes and her passport as Sebastian phoned ahead, informing his boss and the pilot that he was bringing a guest.
He went into the bedroom to see Nic tossing some deeply unattractive underwear into an overnight bag. ‘Leave it,’ he said, as she turned to gather more from a drawer. He tried his best to ignore the bed. Focussing on the curve of her bottom in those microscopic shorts as she bent over didn’t help.
‘Are you telling me to go commando?’
‘No, I’m telling you that a rear as delicious as yours deserves to be more appropriately dressed.’
She straightened up, blushing. ‘This is all I’ve got.’
‘I’ll buy you whatever you need.’
For a moment he thought she was going to argue. He folded his arms and sent her a warning look.
She shrugged, then removed a tangle of grey cotton from her bag and tossed it back in the drawer. ‘Have it your way.’ And with that, she zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’
From there they went straight back to his house. Sebastian gathered up the papers he needed, tossed a change of clothes into his own overnight bag, rang the agency, locked the Ferrari into the garage and set the security system.
Then they made their way to the front of the house, where a chauffeur-driven Bentley splattered with sponsorship logos was waiting to take them to Heathrow. Sebastian settled himself in the back as the driver stowed their luggage in the boot. Nic settled herself in next to him. It didn’t escape his notice that she’d ditched the sequinned hot pants but kept on the kinky red boots. He switched on his iPad as the driver took them smoothly out of the gates and on to the road, and after a minute Nic unlaced the boots, kicked them off and shuffled closer, watching as he worked through his race prep, reminding himself of the course layout, watching clips of other races on You Tube.
She asked the odd question but mostly she just let him work. The car ate up the miles to the airport and as they boarded the private plane that would take them to Spain, Sebastian felt something he’d not felt in a very, very long time.
Happy.
‘This is amazing.’ Nic flopped down on the gigantic bed as Sebastian opened the sliding doors that led out on to the balcony overlooking the hills that he would be driving round. ‘Do you always get to stay in places like this?’
‘Pretty much. I’ve got good sponsorship. Not all the drivers are so lucky.’
‘Wow.’ She stroked her hands over the sheets. ‘I have to say, I think the black sheets are a little kinky.’
‘Says the woman in the red lace up boots.’
Nic stretched out her legs and admired her footwear. They were too hot for the Spanish climate but she hadn’t brought anything more suitable with her, plus she loved them. The leather was butter soft, fitting to her calves so perfectly, and the mid height wedge put a strut in her stride. She used that strut now, wiggling her way out on to the balcony. Sebastian stood with his forearms resting on the railing, staring out at the v
iew.
‘Penny for them,’ Nic said, slipping in alongside and nudging him with her hip.
He turned his head and his gaze met hers, and his eyes were filled with so much dark pain that she forgot all thoughts of play. ‘The last time I raced I spun out. I rolled the car down an embankment. Bloody thing was a write off. I’ve crashed before, but this was different. It was my fault. I braked too late.’
‘Sebastian,’ Nic said softly, and before she knew it she was winding her arms around his neck and pulling him close.
‘This is my job,’ he whispered against her neck as he pulled her t-shirt aside and pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against her shoulder. ‘It’s all I ever wanted. All I was ever any good at. And I’m not sure I can do it anymore.’
She wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, but she knew it would be a lie. ‘You’ll do what needs to be done, Sebastian. It’s who you are. It’s what you do.’
He lifted his head. ‘The only thing I need to do right now is get inside you,’ he said, eyes burning dark, the irises thinned to nothing more than a circle of emerald. Large hands met her waist and pulled her in, then slid round to her back and lifted her against him. ‘I don’t give a damn about the rest of it.’
His mouth lingered a breath away from hers, the heat from his body scorching hers and Nic knew that there was no turning back. If she did this, all her secrets would be out. There would be no place left to hide. She was so, so tired of hiding. Nic placed her hands on his muscular chest, feeling the strong, slow beat of his heart. She journeyed along the nape of his neck and up into that thick, dark hair and she knew this was right. ‘Then what are you waiting for?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, and his mouth crashed down on hers and it was sweet and fierce. She gave as good as she got as he held her against him and walked the two of them back into the bedroom. The backs of her knees met the edge of the bed and he tipped her back. The bed was firm underneath her, but not as firm as the grip of his hands on her thighs.
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