Danger Zone

by Dee J. Adams

They walked in silence for a minute. Quinn kept her slow pace. She didn’t mind his company or his help. But their friendship seemed odd, borne out of something she couldn’t define. Maybe it had to do with this morning and Leo… Maybe Quinn had misinterpreted her gesture because she’d wanted to keep Leo at a distance. Last night really had been a first and a last. She needed to clear—

  “Damn,” Quinn muttered.

  Ellie followed his line of sight and spotted three men standing near the craft service tent. She only recognized Mac. They had to have some significance because Quinn had stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong? Who’re they?”

  “One of them is my worst nightmare.” He glanced at her and started toward the three men. “Just give me a minute, okay?” He didn’t wait for her reply and since they had to pass them anyway, Ellie followed Quinn. Every step closer had more tension streaming off him until Ellie thought he might burst with it. His fists clenched and his biceps bulged. That could’ve been from her bag, but she doubted it. Mac took a step back and opened a space for Quinn.

  The tall blond in the group smiled and stuck out his hand. “Hello, Reynolds,” he said. The slight German accent fit him. He was broad and handsome, but not in a way that appealed to her. He had a big face, almost pudgy.

  Not bothering to take his hand, Quinn sent the man a lethal gaze. “You came a long way, Gerhardt. I told you what I thought of your offer back in London.”

  Gerhardt smiled back at Quinn, but it wasn’t nice or pleasant or even remotely consider-ate. “It seemed necessary to speak to your brother.”

  “The telephone isn’t good enough for you?” Quinn shot back.

  Gerhardt shook his head. “Not when so much is at stake.”

  What was at stake? That was only one of the questions burning a hole in Ellie’s head. Who was the other guy who hadn’t yet said anything? Why was one of them—and she had to guess it was Gerhardt by Quinn’s tone of voice—his worst nightmare? What could have Quinn so ready to pop a—

  “And who is this?” Gerhardt asked, stepping back and including Ellie in the circle.

  Quinn’s gaze narrowed and she suddenly felt like some kind of bait. He barely glanced at her when he spoke. “Ellie Morgan, meet Aaron Gerhardt. Aaron is in the market for a race company and he’s interested in Formula Racing Design.”

  Wasn’t that a good thing? Didn’t Quinn want to sell the company?

  “And this is Hank Gallus. Hank is one of our best mechanical engineers. He helped create our latest design.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Gerhardt said, extending his hand. She felt an immediate sense of power with his handshake…and something else. Something she didn’t like. She shook Hank’s hand next, glad to be free from the first man’s grip. “What do you do?” Gerhardt asked.

  “I’m a stuntwoman. I work as Julie Fraser’s stunt double.”

  His brows lifted and a predatory smile crossed Gerhardt’s face. “Ah…how interesting. I’ve always been fascinated by Hollywood.” He gave her a deliberate once-over that sent cold chills down her back.

  “Is there a reason I wasn’t called in on this little meeting?” Quinn asked, distracting Gerhardt from her. She owed him one for that.

  “I wanted to make sure your brother understood what I’m offering,” Gerhardt said, returning his gaze to Quinn. “I think you’ve been less than forthcoming about my proposition.”

  Quinn shook his head. “I’ve told him exactly what you intend to do. Let’s see if I’ve got the main points right.” He ticked off one finger. “First, you want to fire all the employees.” A second finger flipped up. “Then you want to screw them on a severance package. Does any of that sound familiar?”

  “I think the severance package I’m offering is most generous.”

  “For who? You?” Quinn nodded. “Yeah, I’d say it’s damn easy on your bank account.”

  “We’re talking about hundreds of employees.” Gerhardt gestured with his hands wide, and Ellie’s ears perked up. “Surely you can’t expect me to give them all million-dollar severance packages. I’m already paying nearly two billion dollars as it is.”

  What? Was he kidding? Two billion—with a b—billion dollars? Hundreds of employees? Just how big was Formula Racing Design? And what the hell was Quinn Reynolds doing holding her heavy bag if he owned a company worth billions of dollars? No wonder he had a limousine. He probably had someone brush his teeth at night.

  Ellie felt her head spin.

  “You aren’t paying anything if I—we—don’t sell the company to you and trust me, I don’t plan to.”

  Gerhardt sent a glare in Mac’s direction. “I thought we were making a deal here. I thought you were happy with my offer.”

  “I’m not happy with it,” Quinn said—and not so quietly this time. He glanced at her. “Let me ask you something, Elle. You’re a working woman. How would you feel about losing your job and getting a crappy severance package in the deal?”

  “Uh…” Nothing like being put on the spot. She scratched off the one she owed him and switched the scoreboard. He owed her. “Well, speaking as someone who works in spurts of days, weeks and months at a time and is constantly searching for a job, I can tell you that constant work is my dream. I’ve faced unemployment and I hate it. It’s amazing how fast you can run out of money, run through savings. Not knowing when or where the next job is coming from can be a stressful, scary situation.” She shrugged. “A severance package doesn’t mean much if I run out of money and don’t have a steady gig to keep the bank account full.”

  There. The truth. Spoken like a gal with several hundred thousand dollars in the bank. A nice little nest egg, but one that had to last her a long time if something happened to her and she lost her job. After all, how many job opportunities did an illiterate, dyslexic woman have?

  All four men stayed obscenely quiet and Ellie swallowed back her embarrassment. She’d just lectured several multimillionaires on money.

  Suddenly the throbbing in her foot got a lot worse.

  Mac glanced at Gerhardt before looking at her. “Thanks, Elle. We appreciate your opinion. I can see your perspective.”

  “Sure.” She nodded and forced a weak smile. “I really do need to go, but it was nice meeting you both.” She glanced from Gerhardt to Quinn’s employee, Hank, before reaching for her bag from Quinn. She didn’t see him carrying her pack anymore today.

  Instead of handing it over, he made a face and shook his head. “Damn. I forgot about your foot. Sorry.” He looked at Mac. “I’ll be right back. I told Elle I’d help her to her car.” Quinn gave him a hard stare. “Try not to sell the company while I’m gone.”

  Ellie’s stomach flipped a few times as they headed for her car. Had she really opened her mouth and spewed her opinions to a group of highly paid—obscenely paid—men? Imagine what they’d think of her if they knew her secret. She would’ve laughed if Quinn hadn’t been walking next to her. Slowly, she realized. She was moving very slowly. Standing for the last few minutes in the blazing sun had definitely worn off the numbness in her foot.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Quinn said, frowning. “Here, take this.” Before she had a chance to say anything, he tossed the bag at her. Just as she caught it, he swung her up until she was securely wrapped in his strong arms, against his massive chest. Muscles bulged out big and wide and left her mouth watering. He never missed a beat and kept on walking.

  A flush warmed her cheeks. The Billion Dollar Man was carrying her to her car. “I think this is a little unnecessary. Uh…a lot unnecessary.”

  “Not if you’re me.” He looked down at her, his face so close that she could’ve moved a few inches and kissed him. She was glad he had on sunglasses because she didn’t want to see the heat that might be in his eyes.

  She forced her gaze to his collar. “Look, back there,” she said, gesturing to the men, “I think I may have pissed them off and I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t…you know…screw anything up somehow. I just didn’t know…” Oh, God, s
he was making this worse.

  Quinn stopped walking and stared at her. She couldn’t see his gaze, but felt it roaming her face anyway. Her heart pounded in a wild frenzy. “You said the exact right thing. You said exactly what I’d hoped you’d say. Thank you.” For a moment, it seemed as if he might kiss her. For a very long minute they just stared at each other.

  “Where’s your car?” His voice was husky. Almost a whisper.

  She thumbed in the general direction, their gazes locked on each other. “I’m too heavy,” she murmured, trying to break the awkward silence.

  Quinn didn’t say anything, but she caught the tiniest curve of his lips and then she was slipping. An extremely girly squeal erupted from her lips as he let her slip farther before hefting her high against his chest. She clapped her arms around his neck to secure her place.

  “That’s better,” he said, setting his sights on the parking lot. He started walking again.

  A reluctant laugh sputtered out of her mouth. “Jerk! God, you scared me. I thought you were going to drop me.”

  He looked at her again, his face serious. “I would never drop you.”

  It was just a line. She knew that. But the smile left her lips anyway. He had no idea how those particular words cut so deep. She’d learned the hard way that people, men—not all, but some—didn’t mean what they said. Instead of replying with a comeback, she closed her eyes, rested her head against his shoulder and held back the ridiculous and unwanted sting of tears. In the arms of a billionaire. It seemed unreal. But he was, after all, just a man, right? Ha. Fat chance. This put the differences between them more on a Grand Canyon scale than just that of a big ditch.

  She’d blame the tightness in her chest and throat on residual emotion from the stunt. All the embarrassment, humiliation and pain catching up to her while Quinn held her close. It wasn’t the feeling of safety or the electricity that sparked between them. Or the fact that nothing would ever come of that spark…

  Is that why she felt so desolate?

  No. It was the day, the roller coaster of a highly emotional, stressful day. She’d been through her share. Just not in a long time.

  Sun glinted off the many rows of parked cars, nearly blinding Ellie despite the shades. Quinn wasn’t even breathing hard as he lugged her and her bags across the lot. Maybe if he got lost, he’d keep her against him like this a little longer. It didn’t matter that sweat dampened his shirt where she snuggled next to him. Being in his arms gave her a sense of security she hadn’t felt in years.

  “Here ya go.” Quinn’s soft voice in her ear sent a shiver of tingles down her spine. Standing at her car, he didn’t immediately release her. If anything he seemed to bring her more tightly against his hard body. Ellie took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. She’d never associate sandalwood with anyone but him in the future.

  Apparently she wasn’t too ready to be set down, either, because she looked from her car back to Quinn. “How’d you know this was my car?”

  He tipped his head to the side. “A ’68 Mustang. Baby blue. Who else could it belong to?”

  “It’s actually called Brittany blue.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  Still tight against him, she felt every beat of her heart as she stared up at him. She could stay here all day. Or the rest of her life. “Are you going to put me down?”

  A smile played on his lips. “I could. But I kind of like how you feel.” There it was again. Another eternity that passed between them, a moment of forevers when Ellie wanted more than anything for dreams to come true and Cinderella stories to be real.

  She liked how this felt too. But still…enough torture. This feeling of safety was strictly an illusion. If anyone knew about illusion, it was she. She worked at it for a living and lived it more than half her life. “Thanks for the lift, but you can—”

  “I know.” He set her down gently before she finished the sentence. The grin on his face was nothing short of stunning. Bending over, he looked in the window of her car. The view of his ass was too gorgeous to ignore.

  Holy sculpted body, Batman.

  “Looks like you’ve done some work to the interior,” he said.

  She removed her gaze from his posterior. “A little. I got new seats. The old ones didn’t have the headrests.” He moved over and she unlocked the car, opened the door and hefted her bag to the passenger seat. “Thanks again for the lift. You really didn’t have to.” She tipped her chin toward the track and smiled reproachfully. “Rumors are going to fly now, you know.”

  He grinned, a wide beautiful smile that stole her breath. “Yeah?” Obviously the idea didn’t bother him. He leaned close. “Maybe I can listen in and see what the buzz is.”

  She smacked his arm playfully. His muscles were rock hard. “Don’t sound so happy about it.”

  “Why? Doesn’t bother me at all. I’m wondering what else we can do to fan the flames on those rumors?” He slipped his sunglasses down his nose and his light gray eyes burned hot. “Any suggestions?”

  Lots and lots, but sanity prevailed. “I think we’ve done plenty.” Ellie took a step toward the door and instant pain shot up her leg. Her foot threatened to explode on the spot. She’d forgotten all about her injury for a few blissful minutes. A few dreamy minutes in Quinn Reynolds’s arms.

  Oh, God. When had she become such a weenie when it came to this guy? She needed to snap out of this delusional funk, fast.

  “Okay,” she said a little too brightly. “Thanks and I’ll be seeing you.”

  He took her arm and stopped her. “I know you’re hurting, Elle. Let me take you home, okay?” He stepped close enough for her to see the dark flecks in his eyes. “You can keep your foot up and iced in the back of the limo.”

  “You’re sweet, but I’m fine.” She eased out of his grasp and into the driver’s seat, proving her independence without a doubt. She may need help with a lot of things, but she didn’t need help getting home. Not from the Billion Dollar Man. “See you tomorrow.” Ellie waved, started the car and backed out of the space, leaving Quinn standing in the hot sun with his arms crossed over his chest and the most frustrated expression she’d ever seen on a man’s face.

  Chapter Ten

  After Ellie drove away, Quinn headed back to the set. He’d liked holding her and had wanted to keep her in his arms as long as possible. Just like last night when he’d picked her up from that wave, she felt solid. Strong. Toned muscle and soft skin… Shit, he didn’t have time to think about that now.

  He double-timed it back to the track in the blazing heat on a mission. Seeing Gerhardt had made him as sick to his stomach as watching Ellie catch fire. Did that asshole really think talking to Mac alone would get him the company? Did he seriously think planting a mole at FRD years ago and stealing their rearview mirror design was going to make either Reynolds brother want to sell to him?

  Obviously that last question was stupid since Mac really wanted to stick it to Gerhardt by shooting for an outrageous price. Two billion dollars was pretty fucking outrageous, but no amount would make Quinn happy if it meant Gerhardt got the company.

  When he reached the craft service tent, there was no sign of anyone. Not Mac, Gerhardt or Hank. Shit. He just couldn’t win. Not today. He headed to Mac’s trailer and pounded on the door. At his brother’s summons he climbed up the steps. Cool air hit him in a refreshing blast as he opened the door.

  “Before you get in my face,” Mac said, holding up a defensive palm as he rose from the sofa and headed toward the small kitchen, “you should know that I didn’t say yes or no to Gerhardt. He came this far and I think it’s only fair to make him sweat it out.”

  Quinn closed the door, and the heat, behind him. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve ruled out selling to him,” he said.

  Spreading his arms, Mac was incredulous. “Two billion dollars is a lot of money, Quinn. And it’ll put Gerhardt in a serious financial stretch. Wouldn’t it make you happy to know he might lose everything if the smallest thi
ng goes wrong? Don’t you see any sweet justice if he pays us all that money only to lose everything in the end?”

  “I can’t believe you’re talking about the company like this.” When the hell had they both changed so much? “The sweet justice is not giving him what he wants in the first place. We owe our employees more than selling to Gerhardt. It’s selling out on everyone at FRD. I can’t do it, Mac. I won’t do it. Where’d the asshole go anyway?”

  “He had another appointment. And Hank went back to the hotel so he could check up on production. He told me you’ve only checked in once since you’ve been here. You need to stay more on top of it, Quinn.”

  “What’s wrong with letting our employees do their jobs? Just because you don’t trust me doesn’t mean I don’t trust them. If there were a problem, I would’ve heard about it.” Quinn rubbed his neck, frustration eating at him. “You won’t give it a rest.”

  “It’s about being in charge.” Something big brother couldn’t seem to let go of. “You want a sandwich or anything?” Mac opened the fridge door. “Look, we don’t have to sell to Gerhardt. Besides, I thought we agreed to keep the business longer. Until the stock goes up some more.” He grabbed a soda and popped the top.

  Running a hand through his hair, Quinn snorted. “No, you said you wanted to hold on to it, I said it’s time to cut loose.” Quinn faced his brother. “This is the best time to get out. Who knows how long it will be before another company invents a design that will take the industry another mile faster per hour. We have to strike now. The new engine is going to change the industry and we’ve got the patent. Our buyer will know this. We can get big money for the company now, Mac. It’s stupid to wait.”

  “Not if this is going to ‘change the industry,’” Mac said as if Quinn was some freakin’ idiot with a second-grade mentality. “We’ll make a killing holding onto the patent.”

  “Fine then.” Quinn took another tactic he’d tried before. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leveled Mac with a hard stare. “Are you going to come back and run things?”