by Bella Andre
"Right." Will cocked a thumb at Harper. "Maybe you'd better tell your sister what that means." He winked conspiratorially, while hoping Jeremy knew the answer. It wasn't his intention to embarrass the boy.
Sure enough, he knew. "British racing green." Jeremy's voice echoed, overly loud in the hangar, from his excitement. With that, he sprinted down the center aisle, pointing as he went. "1968 Lamborghini Miura." The gold tones of the car gleamed under the lights. "1954 Austin Healey 100S." And finally to the last one. "1965 Stingray Coupe."
Harper beamed. "He got them all right." She was clearly proud, and Will experienced an ache under his ribcage that he hadn't felt since his mother died when he was six.
They made him want in. In on their bond. In on the pride and adoration in Harper's gaze.
Watching Harper and her brother together made him need things he hadn't craved in thirty years. His father had bullied those cravings out of him.
Harper's gaze was still on her brother, the light of some special emotion shining in her eyes, when he asked them both, "You want a ride?"
CHAPTER TWO
Harper froze. She'd known it was coming, but she'd expected the question about getting into one of Mr. Franconi's cars from Jeremy. Not from the billionaire!
She had her excuses lined up. Mr. Franconi couldn't possibly have time. He didn't even know them and couldn't be expected to let just anyone ride in one of his cars. She'd imagined the powerful businessman would readily agree with everything she said, likely because he'd be angling to get out of there and back to making more billions as soon as possible.
But now that he'd made the unexpected offer, though Jeremy was already jumping up and down shouting his glee, she couldn't possibly take him up on it.
"Thank you for the lovely offer, Mr. Franconi, but Jeremy and I have already taken enough of your time."
"Like I said, I've got all afternoon." He smiled at her again. "And it's Will."
Sweet Lord, that man had a smile on him. It was cocky, sexy, and somehow sincere, all at the same time. He had to be aware of the effect it had on the female gender. She guessed he used it knowingly, undermining resistance, so that he could get whatever he wanted.
But why would he be using it on her?
"I don't think--"
"Come on, Harper." Jeremy gave her his best hangdog expression. "We want to go out in the fast car!"
"Yeah, come on, Harper." Amusement laced the billionaire's voice as he echoed her brother. Will's gaze was deep, startlingly blue, like the Mediterranean ocean of his heritage. "We really do want to go out in the fast car."
His hair was as dark as the devil, his features more handsome than a man with his wealth deserved. She'd half expected to be met today by a flock of Franconi Imports publicity reps. After all, she'd figured the slick, filthy-rich business owner giving his time to a young man like Jeremy would be a publicist's goldmine.
Yet Will had come alone and was dressed casually in jeans and a dark T-shirt--one that emphasized his muscled biceps, but was as far from a five-thousand-dollar suit as anything could be.
Just as Jeremy had researched Will's cars, Harper had researched the man himself. There was a great deal of information online about how he'd built his business, but very few details about his personal life or past.
None of her research had helped her understand why someone as wealthy and powerful as Will Franconi would even bother to answer Jeremy's letter. The invitation to meet at his hangar had floored her. After all, he was a luxury importer--and she wasn't even sure what that meant, exactly. How could a man make billions off luxury? And all his cars she'd seen profiled on the Hot Cars show Jeremy had made her watch smelled of money. Will was a collector of things, so she'd assumed he probably collected people, too...until he got tired of them.
But then she remembered the way he'd looked at her and Jeremy, with a longing that she didn't quite understand, but felt all the same, right in the center of her chest where her heart was beating just a little too fast from nothing more than the look in his eyes.
Plus, she hadn't expected him to be so nice. He didn't laugh at Jeremy. In fact, Will hadn't looked at her brother as if there was anything wrong with him at all.
And now he wanted to take Jeremy for a ride in one of his super fast cars.
Knowing they were both staring at her, waiting for her answer, she finally said, "Where would you take him if I said it was okay?"
"Just down the runway. I'll check with the control tower to make sure there won't be any planes coming in. You can watch us the whole time."
"Please, Harper," Jeremy pleaded, not at all afraid of going fast even though speed had taken so much away from him.
Will didn't know their story, even though Harper sometimes felt like everyone else did, as though it was the only thing that defined her and Jeremy. Eleven years ago, her brother had been hit by a car driven by a rich teenager who was driving way too fast. The teenager's father had not only bought him out of a prison sentence, he'd also forced her parents to accept a payoff in lieu of the litigation that they'd been told would have dragged on for years otherwise.
Harper had never blamed her parents for their decision to take the money. Jeremy had suffered irreparable brain damage and now he was an eighteen-year-old who had never progressed mentally past the age of seven. She understood why economics won out over justice sometimes. Her brother's road to recovery hadn't been cheap, but thankfully, as long as she was careful with her investments and earned enough with her salary as a recruiter, there was still money left to support his current needs, like the special school he attended.
When her parents had died six years ago, Harper had made it her mission to carry on their legacy and protect Jeremy. But in many ways, on the day of the car crash she hadn't only lost her little brother, she'd also lost her parents to financial worry and emotional turmoil, years before they'd passed away in a private plane crash.
Speed had taken so much from her and her brother, but Jeremy was a good kid. He always had been, and she couldn't help giving in to him when he wanted something badly. Surely one ride here today had to be a safe way for Jeremy to experience that speed he so longed for...and if she had any longing left inside of her for just that same thing, she shoved it down.
It was up to her to be the responsible one, after all.
"All right, Will." She wanted to keep on thinking of Will as Mr. Franconi, but somehow he made that impossible with those smiles of his and his charming insistence that she call him by his first name. "But not too fast."
Will's expression was solemn as he crossed his heart. "I promise. No faster than my mechanic would allow."
"How fast is that?"
He smiled again. "Nothing that would hurt the pristine engine."
She had no idea what that meant, but she was helpless against the combined power of his smiles and promises. "All right, fine. But I'll be watching."
"I'm thinking the Cobra for our first ride." He turned to Jeremy. "Sound okay to you?"
"Yay!" Jeremy crowed.
Harper suspected Will had chosen the Cobra because it was the one he'd personally labored over, the one that held the most meaning for him.
"Let me call the tower so they're ready for us."
Once again, Will keyed a code into a pad next to an office door. The lights inside turned on automatically, illuminating a desk and bookshelves crammed with manuals, the names of the cars written along their spines. There were trophies and framed photos, mostly of the cars, with only a few including Will. He punched a couple of numbers on the phone, spoke quietly into it, then turned back to them with that killer smile while he waited for the person on the other end to respond to his request to clear the runways. Harper's heart beat faster despite herself.
"All clear." He put the phone down, then grabbed a key off a board on the wall, tossed it up, and caught it in his fist. "Let's go."
Jeremy followed him like a smitten puppy and worry swept through her stomach again. Will Franconi ha
d a hangar full of ridiculously expensive cars, a personal mechanic, and one call to the control tower allowed him to take over the runways.
So why was he wasting so much time with them?
Harper knew she was sometimes a little too careful with her brother. It was just that if anything happened to him, she'd never, ever forgive herself. But here in the hangar with all the amazing cars, Jeremy was so happy and excited that she couldn't bear squashing him down.
Will opened the Cobra's door. "Hold onto the roll bar back here to get in." He demonstrated with a pat on the curved bar behind the passenger seat. "Don't use the windshield."
The car had no top, just the roll bars behind each of the two seats. The interior was brushed metal, with no carpeting, and the seats were a simple leather bucket. After Jeremy was in, Will leaned over the passenger door to secure the buckle, which was much thicker than a normal seatbelt.
Clapping Jeremy on the shoulder, Will said, "There you go, buddy," then rounded the hood. He climbed into the driver's seat after a jaunty salute to Harper.
The engine roared to life, and Will pulled onto the tarmac with Jeremy vibrating with eagerness and sheer joy in the seat beside him. It was a small airport for light planes, not big commercial airliners. Two runways ran down the center with a long row of hangars on either side. Some had business signage over them--carrier services, flight insurance, maintenance, and one for a local flying club. It hadn't occurred to her that a person could actually rent a hangar to store anything other than a plane, not until Jeremy had received Will's return letter.
She watched the classy race car cruise down the closest runway. True to his word, Will kept his speed down. He turned at the end and headed back on the opposite runway, picking up the pace as they came around to pass her. Jeremy waggled a thumbs-up over the windshield. His lips moved a mile a minute, talking Will's ear off.
Harper smiled, feeling much better about everything...at least, until she realized the car was going faster. And faster. When they made the next turn, she heard tires squeal.
Her stomach jumped and she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard, as if the pain would distract her.
Ever since her parents had passed away at the end of her senior year of college, Jeremy had been her responsibility. He was the only family she had left. He had difficulty learning new skills, and while he loved the computer, he needed a lot of help. In the morning, he went to a special school, and he bagged at the local grocery store on weekday afternoons. She hadn't gotten Jeremy the job because they needed the money, but because her brother needed to feel useful. It was good for his self-esteem. She did everything she could for him.
Yet she'd just let him get in a car with a madman.
Some guardian she turned out to be, she thought as Will and Jeremy roared along the runways as if they were on a racetrack. Her heart hammered as the whoosh of their passing blew her hair across her face.
She hated speed after what had happened to both Jeremy and her parents. Or at least, she should have hated speed. Yet her heart, a traitor to everything she knew to be right, secretly ached to be in the car with them, to taste the rush of air as it raced right through her...and to feel the same rapture that was now shining on Jeremy's face.
The Cobra made two more laps before Will slowed and eased to a stop beside her.
"Careful getting out," he said to Jeremy. "The pipe down on the side is hot and I don't want you to burn yourself."
Before she could rush around the car to make sure Jeremy didn't touch the big black exhaust pipe, he was already pushing himself out, using the roll bar, not the windshield, just as Will had told him.
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Will a narrow-eyed gaze as he also climbed out of the car. "How fast were you going?"
He answered her with the solemn, sincere look he'd used on her earlier when he'd promised not to go too fast. "Fifty on the straightaway."
"No way."
"I swear." He crossed his heart, just like before.
"Well, then, fifty is too fast out there." It probably wasn't, but she had to argue, because Jeremy was her responsibility. Or maybe it was because Will was so darned gorgeous and persuasive that she felt as though she had to fight the urge to automatically give in to him.
Jeremy bounded around the car. "Wasn't that cool, Harper?"
He'd had to learn to talk again after the accident, and even now, all these years later, his speech was careful, almost strained sometimes, as if he was searching for the right words. But he'd clearly been feeling great today--almost like the eighteen-year-old he should have been. And she could see that he'd just had so much fun. His elation was bursting out of him like an excited puppy who'd just been let out of his crate.
"Was it good?" she asked in a gentle voice. The wind had gusted his hair into spikes and tangles, and she smoothed down the soft brown locks.
"The best." Jeremy's eyes gleamed, his gaze bouncing between her and Will, then finally settling on her. "Your turn now, Harper."
She shook her head. Hard. "I'm not getting in that car."
Will smiled winningly. Or cunningly. She honestly wasn't sure at this point, her heart beating fast at even the thought of getting into the sports car with Will.
"I promise I won't take you any faster than I did Jeremy," he told her. "And you just saw for yourself that he didn't come to any harm."
Another easy promise. There was a challenge there, too. And for a moment of pure insanity, she wanted to take the dare, feel the exhilaration, inhale it. She wanted to go fast, feel the wind beating her face, feel her blood rushing wildly through her veins.
But she was not insane.
Safe. She needed to keep everyone safe. Not only Jeremy, but herself, too. Just because she might want something didn't mean she could have it. Not if it was something that was bad for her or for Jeremy.
Unfortunately, the best refusal she could come up with in the face of both of them looking at her so expectantly was, "I'm wearing a skirt. There's no way I can get down into that seat." But even as she said it, a part of her--a really big part--wanted to take what he offered.
Just once, she wanted to close her eyes and race with the wind.
"I'll help you." Will held out his hand.
"It's fun, Harper." Jeremy had to add his two cents.
"Once around," Will said, his voice low, his gaze deep, his hand still held out to her as if he had no doubt she'd eventually agree. "That's all it will be. A fast ride that you're going to love. I promise. Once around," he said again, before smiling and adding, "Unless you want more."
As if he'd known how close to the edge she already was, his coaxing words had her falling right into his blue gaze, like a cliff diver hurtling down to water as smooth as glass.
For the first time in forever, Harper wanted to forget about what was bad for her and just do what felt good. Which was why she finally said, "I'll go with you for one turn around the runway." She made sure to add as a reminder for them both, "But I won't be wanting more than that."
Only, she wasn't sure he believed it any more than she did.
CHAPTER THREE
Oh yes, Will Franconi was dangerous. Extremely dangerous as he drew her to the passenger side of the car and her stomach fluttered with the hand-to-hand contact.
Harper hadn't dated in over a year, ever since she'd realized that she was an easy target. Not only for men who wanted to get at her brother's trust fund, but also because after so many years of working to take care of herself and Jeremy, she hadn't had much time left over to nurture her other relationships. First she'd become involved with a man who wanted Jeremy's money but not Jeremy. Why can't you just send him to a home for people like him? he'd said. And then she'd rebounded into a relationship with a guy who had sworn he would always be there for her and Jeremy--at least until he'd found a far lower-maintenance woman. Jeremy's heart had been broken when her boyfriend no longer came around to see him.
After that, Harper had decided love
and marriage simply weren't in the cards for her.
And that was okay. Because, honestly, she wanted to know for sure that Jeremy wasn't going to be hurt by anyone else, rather than risk dating again.
Not that getting in the car with Will was akin to dating him, of course. She couldn't imagine what a rich playboy like him would want with a completely ordinary woman like her. It was just that she hadn't been this close to a good-looking man in a very long time. That had to explain why her heart was pounding hard and her skin felt flushed.
Will put her hand on the roll bar. "Hold on tight right here."
Everything he said seemed to have a double meaning, turning something ordinary into something sexual. But she knew it had to be her sex-starved brain adding the extra meaning.
She lifted her skirt slightly to step inside, then slid down into the leather seat. Picking up the ends of the seat belt, she looked at them, unsure how the contraption worked.
"It's a five-point racing harness," Will explained as he got into the driver's seat beside her. "Normally it would come up between your legs and down over your shoulders, but I think we can skip the leg harness for you today, given that you didn't come dressed to drive in a race car."
When she started fumbling with the hooks and levers on the harness, he said, "Let me help you."
The next thing she knew, he was settling a strap over her shoulder, his fingers brushing her collarbone as he brought it down across her chest. Thrill bumps raced across her skin with the near contact. She inhaled his scent--shampoo and soap and very sexy male--and her body tingled. Pulling the harness down to her lap, he flicked the latch closed with a snap, and she felt the pressure of his touch just below her belly. Low enough--and intimately enough--that her pulse rate shot up.
As he started on the other strap, his fingers skimmed the air just above her breasts, not quite touching, but barely short of a breath away. Harper didn't look up, didn't dare meet his gaze, just in case he realized the effect he was having on her. He snapped the second latch, buckled the belt across her lap with a simple flip of the two pieces she'd already connected, then cinched the strap.
Had he spent this much time getting Jeremy into the harness or putting the shoulder straps on? At this point, her head was spinning so much from his nearness and all the almost-touches that she honestly couldn't remember.