Chapter Five
Singapore
Lily needed to prepare better for the race weeks in general.
She’d fully embarrassed herself by falling asleep in the corridor not long before the race in Italy.
It was appalling. She’d not worked as late as some of the others that night and they’d still managed to stay awake.
Fortunately, she didn’t think she’d been out long and no one said anything when she went back.
But only ten minutes into the prep in the pit lane, her stomach tilted, churning the meagre breakfast she’d managed at the hotel.
Coping with the hot weather, she was not.
‘Are you okay?’ Shane glared at her.
‘Yes,’ she muttered. Vision swimming, she was seeing two Shanes and neither looked happy. ‘I’m fine.’
Her boss pointed to the door. ‘Out. Now. You’re not infecting the rest of us.’
‘No, it’s not a bug,’ she argued. ‘It’s something I’ve eaten or maybe it’s the heat.’
‘We all ate at the same restaurant last night and we’re all okay. Scram back to the hotel and get some rest. If you’re better later, come to the party, otherwise quarantine in your hotel room, understood?’
‘I don’t need to come to the party.’
‘Everyone needs to come to the party,’ Shane muttered. ‘It’s team bonding. Go now. I need you well. This week is tough enough.’
He was right and others were watching. No one else wanted to be sick and she definitely wouldn’t want to infect the drivers if it was a bug.
Which it wasn’t. But it couldn’t be food poisoning, because Shane was right about them eating at the same restaurant.
It was just the heat. She needed an intensive recovery plan.
Electrolytes, painkillers and a brief nap in her air-conditioned hotel room.
She slept for five hours straight and felt better on waking.
Relieved, she showered and dressed in the dress she’d brought with her for the party.
She’d not had a night out in years. Basically ever.
And it would be a work event without Massimo.
That was good, right? She paired her dress with strappy sandals; its length made her look taller than she was.
It was too hot to wear her hair down, so she swept it into a bun and then put on the thin sterling silver pendant she’d bought when she’d made it to P1 Global.
She was late, but definitely still showing up.
The Hearnshawe party was in one of the elite entertainment facilities next to the Singapore Flyer.
Lanterns lit the way and the sky was a stunning colour, but the air was so close and warm she had to walk slowly.
Frankly, after only five minutes outside she felt rocky again.
It was definitely heat related. She would need an ice pack in the garage tomorrow.
Except she didn’t only feel tired, she also felt nauseated—an echo of the constant queasiness she’d felt a couple of weeks ago.
Which was weird. What sort of bug caused intermittent symptoms like that?
Her brain slowly whirred and for the first time in weeks she let herself focus on her body—trying to feel in tune with it.
Not only was there that damned endless ache for Massimo, there was also something else.
Something deeply sensitive, something terrifying.
Suddenly dizzy, she spun, consumed with the need to escape, but slammed into something hard.
Firm hands hit her shoulders. Familiar hands that softened and shaped, holding her gently. She jerked her head up.
‘What are you doing here?’ she squeaked.
‘You’re late,’ he muttered.
‘What?’ Stunned he’d materialised just as she’d thought of him, she struggled to understand. ‘I’m what?’
‘Late.’ His tone censured her and something like reproach burned in the backs of his eyes.
He thought she was late to the party, but she was also late in a deeply personal way. How could she not have realised sooner? Now she gaped as the horrifying truth hit. She’d dismissed it as travel sickness. That her fatigue was simply stress. But this wasn’t a bug, this was a baby.
No!
‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ he added huskily.
She blinked. She was freaking herself out. She went through irregular patches. They’d used protection. She was overcooked by the heat and delirium had set in.
His bright blue eyes bored into her with concern he had no right to feel.
That she had no right to appreciate. Trying not to react, she dropped her gaze only to drink in his hewn physique.
In the pale linen he looked impossibly cool and she was almost overcome by the yearning to lean against him.
Her nipples tightened. Her body didn’t care about what her brain was computing.
Her body just wanted his—like an animal recognising her mate.
‘Lily?’ His hands tightened again. ‘You’re not feeling better, are you?’
Her gaze shot back to his. How did he know she’d been feeling off colour? Had Shane told him?
‘You fell asleep before the last race—you’re working too hard.’
How did he know about that? Completely mute, she shook her head, never as mortified. She wasn’t weak. She was—
‘Are you sure you’re well enough to be here?’
He was right in front of her and she was reacting in the most inappropriate manner imaginable.
It was as if he’d been imprinted on her in a purely animal way.
Before she’d known who he was, she’d felt him, she’d let him in and that part of her was now so thrilled to see him she was basically a molten puddle at his feet.
‘Don’t you want me to be here?’ she asked.
‘Not if you’re unwell.’ He frowned and actually put the back of his hand to her forehead. ‘You’re flushed.’
Because she got hot around him! And she had to get away from him now. ‘My health isn’t any of your business.’
Except maybe part of it was. She lost her ability to breathe and focused on fury instead. Why was he here? Why was he breaking their fifteen-feet-away agreement? Overcharged and overwhelmed, every emotion overtook her.
‘Lily, you’re not—’
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped, her words hurtling faster than the cars on track. ‘In fact, I’m more than fine. In fact, I think I’m pregnant.’
Time stopped as he stared into her face.
Reading her rage, her blame. And while she’d been exhausted a second ago, now she was invigorated.
His presence—his proximity—was suddenly like a shot in the arm.
She pushed away from him and turned. Too late, she saw the people.
Mechanics, engineers, marketing team—all with glasses and platters and this was a horrifically public setting in which to have a deeply private conversation.
She couldn’t be seen talking intimately with the CE Bloody O!
There was no reason for her ever to talk with him.
Had anyone else heard her? She blinked furiously as her vision muddied, multiplying the number of people around her until they looked like a drunken choir of judgemental bystanders.
Massimo grabbed her hand and walked her in another direction, the rapidity of his movements conveying the strength of his emotions. She was so stunned she was just swept along; she didn’t even see where they were going. All she knew was that it was suddenly, blessedly cooler.
‘Forgive me. You’ll need to get the next one,’ he growled as they passed a group of people. ‘She needs cool air and space.’
‘What are you doing? Where—’
Lily broke off as she saw the door had closed and they were alone in a glass compartment.
She gasped as the compartment moved, leaving that pile of people behind.
He’d taken her into the Singapore Flyer—the enormous Ferris wheel with the stunning views of Singapore city that she’d not had the chance to check out yet.
But they were trapped for the next twenty minutes or more and his high-handed behaviour was appalling.
‘Loads of people could fit in here, but you’re spoilt enough to take one entirely to yourself? ’
‘I’m not by myself. You’re here with me. And you do need space.’
This was an argument easier to face than the one that really mattered. ‘They’ve been queuing—’
‘Not for that long. This is a private event.’
He’d caused a scene and she was mortified and definitely didn’t want to consider what she’d so brainlessly blurted. ‘You made me look weak in front of everyone.’
‘Right now you are weak. Sit down before you fall down. Your face is whiter than your dress.’
She sat on the wide bench seat in the centre of the compartment. He didn’t. He stared down at her from his imposing height.
‘I need you to repeat what you said a couple of minutes ago.’
She’d spoken before thinking. She still wasn’t thinking and she really didn’t want to believe—
‘Do you think or do you know?’ he gritted impatiently.
She gripped her hands together. ‘I don’t know. I just…’
‘Know?’ he said softly. Sceptically.
She pressed her fists to her stomach. Her breasts were more tender, which could be premenstrual, but she counted back and she was more than a little late.
She suddenly stood. She needed to get out of here.
She needed to process this alone. But the world’s fanciest Ferris wheel was taking forever to spin all the way around.
She glanced at the stunning skyline before looking to the brightly lit track below.
Five kilometres of high-speed circuit. She would give anything to be in a car right now, racing at such high speed there’d be no room to think about anything else.
‘And you think it’s mine?’ Massimo asked even more sceptically.
She turned and stared at him vacantly. Of course it was his. Why was he asking that…?
Oh. She suddenly felt winded. Wounded. All these weeks she’d been pining—thinking, hoping, dreaming that he felt a little bit the same every time he saw her at work. That he watched her, wanted her, thought of her the way she did him. But no. He’d been entertaining princesses and who knew who else.
Right. But it felt so wrong.