by Alexia Adams
“All she had were her looks and her marriage, which was really her ticket to an easy life. Papa had money. She liked money. When she caught my father cheating, she figured her looks weren’t enough anymore to keep a man, so she let herself go. Actually, letting herself go is a misnomer; it was more like she threw herself off a cliff.”
“But she had you.”
“I wasn’t enough either. My mother was very narcissistic. She never really understood my father and the pressure he was under, and I don’t think she ever tried. It was all about the glamour and the parties for her. Anyway, after it was over, she sank into a deep depression and dragged me down with her. She ate constantly and insisted that I join her. Remember I said my father last saw me on my sixteenth birthday? Well, what he saw was a morbidly obese teenager who could barely get off the sofa to greet him.”
She searched Daniel’s face, expecting to see disgust. She saw compassion instead. He put his drink down and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “No one looking at you now would ever think you were once overweight.”
“Thanks. But I know I’m still a little heavy. Certainly I’m not like the majority of women you come across on the circuit.” Within a week she’d be standing next to some of them. It was going to be obvious.
“Can I tell you something the majority of women don’t seem to realize? Most men prefer women with substance. When I’m with a skinny woman, I worry that if I hold her too tight, she’ll snap and I’ll be left holding the pieces.” He raised his arms as though dangling two sections of woman. “Excuse me, I seem to have broken this one. Terribly sorry.”
She smiled at his attempt to humor her.
He drew a circle on the back of her hand with his index finger, and she repressed the shiver of delight. “When did you lose the excess weight?”
Finishing her drink, she put the glass down on the table next to Daniel’s. “As soon as I went away to college and was away from my mother, I could make my own eating choices and I became healthier. I started to exercise and gradually got slimmer. But my body still carries the evidence. I have masses of stretch marks, and although I’ve had one excess skin removal surgery, I’ve lost more weight since and have saggy bits. My skin’s a bit crepey…”
She checked again for revulsion on his face but saw none. Instead he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. Okay, not the reaction she was expecting, but she was fine with it. More than fine. He tossed his shirt onto the sofa and pointed at a long, jagged scar near his shoulder. The firelight danced on his skin, and her fingers itched to join the party.
“I smashed my clavicle in a racing accident when I was fifteen. The bone came right through the skin. And here”—he took her hand and ran her fingers over a bump on his side—“I broke a rib luging down the stairs on the cook’s baking sheets when I was seven. I never told Grand-Papa I was injured, so it healed with a bump. I have others.”
She wasn’t quite sure what his point was; she was too mesmerized by the feel of his warm skin under her fingers. He took her hand in his again and pulled her to her feet and into his arms, his eyes searching hers as she raised her face. “What I’m trying to say”—his voice was deep and husky—“is that my scars are due to accidents and stupidity. Any marks you bear are battle scars acquired in your war against obesity, your fight to save your life. You shouldn’t be ashamed. Wear them with pride. It takes a strong woman to pull herself out of the abyss.”
She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. Not even her husband who had claimed to love her had made her feel good about her body.
“Thank you,” she managed past the lump in her throat.
His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip, pulling it gently away from her teeth. She leaned in closer, the heat from his naked chest encouraging her to snuggle. “Lexy, I said I’d wait for you to make the first move.”
“Consider me moved.”
“Are you sure? If you need more time—”
“No.” He dropped his hand and she quickly wrapped hers around his waist, drawing him back to her. “I mean no, I don’t need more time. But I should tell you, I’m not very good at sex so don’t expect too much.”
“Not very good? How is that even possible?”
“My ex-husband—”
“Forget him. This is between you and me. No one else.”
He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss so gentle, so sweet, it shook her to her core. She’d expected raw passion, maybe a bit of frenzied pulling-off of clothes. And despite Sonia’s warning, she hadn’t come prepared. Hopefully Daniel carried condoms. After all, he was the playboy.
“Dance with me,” he whispered against her ear. Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” began to play through the music system. Daniel swayed against her, and her body responded.
“I thought we were going to…”
“In time. We have all night. I want to make this memorable.”
All night? In ten minutes he’d be mopping her up off the floor. And as for memorable, seeing as she hadn’t had sex in almost four years, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t forget this.
***
Daniel moved Lexy’s hand from his back and placed it behind his neck. After a moment she threaded her fingers in his hair, her head tucked under his chin. If it weren’t for his rock-hard erection, he could stay like this for hours; holding her close, feeling her heartbeat. But she was so tense she needed to relax a lot more before he could take things further.
“Dancing isn’t one of my better talents,” she mumbled against his neck. Her breath on his overheated skin notched up his internal temperature another couple of digits.
“Let your body move with mine. Follow my lead.”
She raised her head and stared at him, a sensuous smile curving her lips. “I’ll follow your lead. For now.”
“That’s it, ma cherie. Show me the fire.” Although if she got any hotter, he’d need his flame-resistant overalls. Dieu, she was sexy. Her ex must’ve been a real ass.
He stroked a hand down her back as they swayed to the music. With a swift move, he swiveled her around so her back was to his chest, both her hands behind his neck. He dropped kisses down her throat as he caressed her sides, lingering for a fraction of a second on her breasts before continuing downward. He feathered touches over her lower stomach before settling on her hips. Pressing himself into her, he let her feel his hardness. She wriggled against him, and he bit back a groan.
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not sexy,” he said. “Every time I see you I want to take you in my arms and feel you like this.” His hands made the journey in reverse, lingering longer on her breasts. His thumbs flickered over her nipples, which hardened through the layers of fabric. Lexy was breathing rapidly, a low moan of pleasure escaping her lips as he touched her abdomen again.
“Daniel.” She breathed his name and a shot of pure lust arrowed through him.
Another song came on, this one with a faster tempo, but he kept their rhythm to the same languid pace. He really should update his seduction playlist. They swayed together as he explored her body with his hands, tasting her skin with his lips and tongue. Desperate for more flesh-to-flesh contact, he worked the fabric of her dress up until he could slide his hand underneath and feel the soft skin of her thigh. She was quivering with each touch, her breath coming in pants. Her hands were still locked behind his head, holding tightly, as though she were afraid that if she let go she’d fall.
He turned her again so he could work the zipper at the back of her dress. When it was undone he put both hands on her face and kissed her deeply. It had to be her choice to remove her clothes. As their tongues dueled he felt the fabric fall to her feet.
Releasing her lips, he stepped back a bit, holding both her hands in his so she couldn’t cover herself. “You are exquisite,” he said.
She looked about to argue so he kissed her again, leading her hands to the buckle at his waist. Her fingers grazed his hardness a
s she undid the belt and then the zipper on his fly. It was his turn to moan. He trailed kisses down her neck; her quiver echoed through him. Dieu, she was so responsive.
Trying to maintain any semblance of dancing was no longer feasible. He removed the rest of his clothes, hoping Lexy would do the same. She stood between him and the fire still wearing her bra and panties, the dim light preventing him from truly appreciating her body. But what he did see was fantastic.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she whispered.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. It’s just, you’re Daniel Michaud, world-famous racecar driver, possibly the sexiest man alive…”
“Possibly?” He quirked an eyebrow. Maudit, not her, too. Another woman who wanted the driver, not the man.
“Definitely the sexiest man alive. I’m just … well, me, a girl who’s only ever had sex with one man.”
“Lexy…”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If this goes horribly wrong, we pretend it never happened and return to being friends.”
“Horribly wrong? What kind of sex have you had?”
“Obviously not the good kind.”
“Are we going to see if this is the good kind, or do you want to talk both of us out of this?”
She unfastened her bra and let it drop to the floor then threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down towards hers. As their lips were about to touch, she suddenly jerked her head to one side. An oddly familiar tune filled the air. That children’s song was definitely not on his playlist.
“I have to get that,” she said. Releasing him, she grabbed his shirt off the sofa and tugged it on before picking up her phone.
“Hello?” A hint of panic tinged Lexy’s question.
“Mummy!” a young boy’s excited voice echoed through the room.
Mummy? Ice replaced the heat in his veins. Lexy had a kid?
Chapter 6
Lexy’s heart pounded and she pulled Daniel’s shirt tighter around her, trying to pretend she hadn’t been moments from possibly the greatest night of her life. She forced her eyes to concentrate on her son, checking for signs of illness, and not her disheveled, dazed picture in the corner of the screen.
“Mummy, you look funny,” Max said.
“I, uh, I was just getting ready for bed.” More likely the sofa, or maybe the floor, or up against a bookshelf… The blood that had drained from her face when she heard Sonia’s ringtone now rushed back.
“We didn’t say goodnight.” Max’s sweet voice brought her back from contemplating possible sexual positions.
“I know, darling. I called, but you were already asleep. Are you having fun? Have you been a good boy for Sonia and Mark?” It was damned hard to keep her mind on her son’s situation when behind her she could hear Daniel pulling on his trousers. She was careful to keep the phone’s camera on her face so Max couldn’t see what he’d interrupted. Although, he was probably too young to understand the implication of his mother looking a mess with a naked man in the background.
“I’m being good. But I miss you. When are you coming home?”
“Not for a long while, yet, sweets. Remember, we talked about this. Mummy has to take a long trip for work, but when I get back we’re going to have a holiday together.”
“Can we go to Disneyland? I saw on the telly, that’s where Lighting Queen and Mater live.”
“I’m not sure. Disneyland’s a long way away. We’ll discuss it when I get back. I love you oodles and oodles, Max. Sleep tight and we can chat longer tomorrow.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Daniel with his arms crossed over his bare chest, taking in every nuance of her conversation.
“I love you, too, Mummy. Sonia wants to say ’night as well.” He made a kissing face then handed the phone to her friend.
Sonia stared at Lexy, a huge smile on her face. “Sorry if we’ve interrupted something. Max woke and was upset that he hadn’t said goodnight to you. I should have texted first.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Lexy ran a hand down her hair. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have fun.” There was a definite throaty chuckle from Sonia before the connection terminated.
Lexy put down the phone and closed her eyes for a brief second. She sensed Daniel come to stand in front of her.
“When were you going to tell me?” A muscle pulsed in his jaw.
“I don’t know.”
“Is this something you do? Were you hoping to get pregnant with my kid and then hit me up for child support? What’s the matter, your first baby daddy wasn’t rich enough?” The vile accusation spewed from the lips that had been bringing her pleasure only moments before.
She leapt to her feet, forgetting she hadn’t fastened his shirt, which gapped open. “No! I’d never do that. How could you even think it?”
“Trust me, cherie”—she flinched at the disdainful way he said the endearment—“you wouldn’t be the first woman who’s tried that little game with me. And by your own admission your mother deliberately got pregnant to snare your father. Perhaps the plum hasn’t rolled so far from the orchard.”
“How dare you. You know nothing about me.” She pulled the shirt tighter around her and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Apparemment. We have spent the past forty-eight hours together and not once have you mentioned that you have a child.”
“Well, I do. A little boy named Max. He’s three years old and the love of my life.”
“And his father?” So help her, if he kept looking down his nose at her like that, she’d punch him. He could show up for the race in Russia with a nice shiner, compliments of his “chaperone.”
“Is out of my life. For good. And for your information, I never once asked him for a penny in child support.”
“So where’s your son now?”
“My friend Sonia is looking after him. The twenty thousand pounds Mr. Petersen mentioned is for child care.”
“You left your son. For eight weeks. For twenty grand. What kind of mother are you?”
She snapped. A red haze replaced his beautiful features. Not until Daniel held both her fists and sat her back down on the sofa did she realize she’d been repeatedly punching him on the chest.
A rueful smile twisted up one corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” There was a hint of remorse in his tone. Enough to deflate her anger.
“I’ll tell you what kind of mother I am.” Tears now streamed down her face, landing on Daniel’s hands where they still held hers. “I’m a desperate one. It was either come with you, leaving Max behind, or lose my job. And I can’t afford that. I have nothing in savings to tide me over until I can get a new position. And my friend Sonia is looking after Max. She has a son the same age. And her husband just lost his job, so the money is really helping them out…” She couldn’t say any more as sobs wracked her body.
Daniel pulled her against his chest. His hands ran up and down her back, his shirt no barrier to the comforting embrace. When she eventually quieted, he said, “So, because of this stupid photo of me and Jacqueline, I’ve taken a mother away from her young son.”
“You could explain about the photo,” she murmured against his bare skin. Then she could get out of his arms, go home, and never know what it would have been like between them.
He released her and stood. “No. That’s not an option. But I won’t be the reason you have to be apart from your son. He’ll just have to come with us.”
***
Daniel stared out the window as they taxied down the small runway. They were once again strapped into the leather seats of Jacques’s plane, headed back to London. Lexy had called her friend and explained the situation so Max would be ready for their arrival.
Dieu, she had a child. It was a complication in the next eight weeks he hadn’t expected. It was bad enough he was distracted by her. Lexy got him. She understood his c
areer, his focus, and dedication, was able to talk intelligently about the things that mattered to him and life in general. And to top all that, she was as sexy as a concept car, and she made him laugh more than anyone in recent years. But she had a kid. Children were a definite line never to be crossed where he was concerned. Then Lexy made a snuffly sound, and the pain on her face caused an ache in his own chest. He was so screwed.
“I’m not sure if Max is going to be happy to see me,” she said, her voice raw.
“Why the hell not? You’re his mother; of course he’s going to be happy.” Daniel may not have known a mother’s love personally, but he could recognize it when he saw it. It was one of the reasons he’d insisted her son come with them. Nothing and no one, especially him, should keep a loving parent and child apart.
The other reason was that having a kid around was the ultimate abstinence incentive. Last night had been amazing, up to the point when her phone rang. He’d never felt such an emotional connection with a woman before. It had the power to destroy him. But with her toddler in tow, there’d be no more sexy times. He could focus entirely on the track now. Merde, at least he hoped so. More likely he’d die of blue balls syndrome. Even the hint of tears in Lexy’s voice wasn’t the turn-off it usually was. He fought the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her.
Lexy blew her nose before replying. “Sonia’s husband, Mark, has been taking the boys to the park to play football. This is the first time Max has had a father figure to do stuff like that with him. I’m worried he won’t want to leave this taste of a real family to come with me.” She looked away and nibbled on the side of her index finger.
Women. He thought she’d be happy she didn’t have to leave her son behind. “You are a real family. I was raised with my half brother by a man I’m not even related to. But they’re my family. What makes a family is love.”
At least that elicited a watery smile. “I’ve got that covered then. I love him so much. I worry constantly that I’m not doing enough, don’t spend enough time with him. He won’t have the same opportunities if he stays with me. But I can’t give him up…”