Chapter Eight #2
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You should’ve been there to celebrate with him.’
‘You should’ve been with the team. You worked hard to help them get that result.’ His throat was parched and swallowing was tricky. ‘But honestly, I have no regrets.’
It just slipped out, but he realised he truly didn’t.
He never missed watching a race—even when he wasn’t actually at the event he watched it live online.
But he’d missed it completely last night and he didn’t give a damn.
He didn’t regret that night on the cargo plane, either.
He could never regret any of the moments they’d shared.
She’d gone completely still, almost as if she were transfixed. Despite the air-conditioning, Massimo was suddenly sweltering and his chest tightened. His heart thundered, pumping hot blood everywhere—was she blushing?
He didn’t know but suddenly she was. Again. A fresh flush swept not just her cheeks, but her shoulders, her décolletage, and he sank into her sweet smile.
‘Not interested in the race anymore?’ He could hardly speak.
‘I know what happens.’
His heart almost thumped right out of his chest as she suddenly crawled the short distance to arrive at his feet.
She looked up at him. ‘Do I have an access-all-areas pass from you?’
‘Absolutely.’ Desire enveloped him as heat ignited those gold flecks in her eyes. ‘What…?’
He broke off as she shook her head. Still not ready to talk? Nor was he in this moment. She rose to her knees and put her hands on his legs, pushing them farther apart. He allowed it—right now he would let her do whatever she wanted.
‘You want to drive?’ he muttered breathlessly.
‘I want to play.’
His body melted as she moved closer. He ran his hand through her long, glossy hair and she shimmied, teasing it over his lap.
She was wild and sweet and yes, so playful as she tormented him with long pulls of her small hands and deep sucks of her hot mouth.
His head fell back as she did what she wanted with him.
What he ached for. Shuddering, he closed his eyes, but it didn’t protect him from the unfolding intimacy.
This wasn’t play; it was personal. So deeply, intensely, profoundly special.
She took no mere taste of cake, but something far more substantial.
Something dangerous. He groaned, shifting his hips, unable to bear it as all control slipped from him.
He needed this to be less. Less intense.
Less caring. Less sweet. But it was too late.
He fisted his hands in her hair, unable to warn her any other way.
But she didn’t stop. No, she tightened her grip and sucked him deeper until he thrust too hard, groaning as he pulsed with furious bursts of euphoria.
He collapsed back, unable to move. It was only at her soft chuckle that he opened his eyes.
She was still on her knees, looking directly up at him.
Her dreamy, frankly smug expression energised him like a damned defibrillator.
His muscles jerked and he swiftly reached forward, grasping her waist to lift her onto his lap. Her soft gasp turned him inside out.
‘Aren’t you out of gas?’ she squeaked as she straddled him and realised that one part of him had roared right back to life.
He really should be. He swept his hands over her hips. ‘Apparently, my engine is solar-powered and you are the sun.’
Her smile blossomed—unguarded and open and suddenly he was the triumphant one.
He swept his hands beneath her dress, lifting it.
She raised her arms and he whisked it off.
He leaned close, kissing her creamy skin.
She was so responsive. She didn’t bother taking off her panties; she just knelt up enough to pull them to the side before sliding down on him hard and to the hilt.
‘So hot,’ he growled.
She was a dynamo. A petite passion bomb who unleashed a maelstrom of energy and emotion and infected him with the same.
Her impact should never be underestimated.
He needed to plunder, to possess, but she’d claimed control again already.
Claimed him in a way he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to.
Her muscles milked him—her silken heat invoking waves of pleasure.
He should be dead already—heart attack. Instead, he was motivated to make it every damned bit as good for her.
After, as they breathed hard, the final moments of the race commentary rang in the room. She turned her head, her hair hiding her face from him, and looked at the screen as the podium celebration began. Massimo didn’t release her and after a moment she relaxed.
‘How did you end up being his guardian?’ she asked as on the screen Emiliano was drenched in champagne. ‘Doesn’t he have family in Italy?’
He should welcome her curiosity as a win; instead, he felt edgy. He didn’t discuss his family, but he had to answer her; honesty in this might help her trust him.
‘His mother is in Italy, yes. Her husband was my mother’s brother. There’s wider family, too.’ He drew a breath. ‘Emiliano has precocious talent, you’ve seen it.’
‘Yes.’
‘There was so much extra pressure because he comes from a line of drivers. He showed his potential when he was very young and his father was unbelievably fast.’
‘Was?’ Her voice dropped. ‘Don’t tell me it was an accident.’
‘No,’ he assured her swiftly.
He knew she understood the immense, endless agony of an accident, but Massimo had the unbearable guilt of causing one, too.
‘Cancer,’ he clarified. ‘Undetectable until it was too late. A lot of unscrupulous and pushy players circled around Emiliano, wanting to lock him into contracts. His mother and I agreed it was better to have him with me at Hearnshawe. I promised him that if he continued with his education, I’d build him the fastest car to ever hit the grid.
I wanted him to be in a place where he could be protected, rather than pushed too soon. ’
Lily sat back and looked him square in the eyes. ‘He was on the grid the day he turned eighteen. How much sooner could he make it?’
‘It’s later than the rival teams would have had him,’ he pointed out wryly. They’d wanted to get special dispensation. At the time he wanted to take it.’
‘But you didn’t let that happen?’
‘Believe it or not, I’m too cautious.’ He smiled. ‘Emiliano wants to go fast in everything. ‘There are still times when I have to step in. A lot of temptations are thrown at him.’
Guilt rippled. It had been because of Emiliano’s vulnerability that he’d been on that cargo plane. But she never, ever needed to know that. It was irrelevant now.
‘I don’t want him taken advantage of,’ he sighed. ‘I would do anything to help him.’
He’d put in good support for Emiliano. Trainer.
Psychologist. Nutritionist. The kid had thrived at his English estate and honestly, Massimo had figured he would take over the entire company eventually.
Maybe he still would if this child didn’t want to.
Massimo intended to do the same for Lily and the baby.
Housekeeper, nanny all the help she needed.
He was very good at employing the absolute best.
‘But you keep your distance from him during race weekends.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears.
Had she noticed that? ‘It’s better for him to be focused,’ he explained. ‘Not feel additional pressure by having me breathing down his neck.’
She shook her head slightly and her eyes softened. ‘You’re stressed watching him. Every time. But it’s so much safer than it used to be.’
‘I don’t need you to reassure me, Lily,’ he muttered edgily. ‘You do know I lobbied for the latest safety changes.’
‘Yes.’ She smiled gently. ‘I do know that.’
He ran his tongue over his dry lips. ‘Because you also know my parents died in a crash.’
Not on track, but in the rain.
She nodded. Silence expanded between them. He’d left so much unsaid, but he would never discuss that day.
He cleared his throat. ‘We should shower before the doctor arrives.’
Lily ruffled her hair and shot Massimo a rueful grin. ‘I only needed a doctor, not Singapore’s best obstetrician and half his team to turn up. There weren’t enough chairs in the room.’
Massimo offered her a glass of juice. He’d clearly been on a room service ordering spree again. She took it and settled onto one of the sun loungers, unable to resist the dish of nuts located conveniently near.
‘I’m glad to know you’re in excellent health,’ he muttered softly.
‘The results of the blood tests will take a few days.’
‘We don’t need to wait until then to make plans,’ he said, then shot her a conciliatory smile. ‘Though we can if you want.’
She rolled her eyes. Going slow wasn’t in his repertoire.
In an ideal world, family ought to be close.
Children treasured. This baby was a gift and she didn’t want it to pick up on conflict between its parents.
The timing might be terrible, their compromise difficult given their disparate wealth and power, but surely they could make this work without a wedding.
Hell, maybe once they got this chemistry out of their systems they could even be friends.
Her heart puckered and she shrank into the seat.
The fact was she would step back from his life and be safe in hers.
Only now she couldn’t help wondering what it could be like if he weren’t so beyond her reach.
And she couldn’t resist indulging in a moment of curious fantasy.
‘What would you do if you weren’t Massimo Hearnshawe? ’
‘What’s the point in wondering that? I am Massimo Hearnshawe.’
‘Humour me.’ What kind of life would he want?
‘Why would you think I’d want a wildly different life to the one I have now?’ He picked up a drink but didn’t sip. ‘Do you think I’m unhappy? I’m hardly working at gunpoint. I already have everything I’ve ever wanted.’ He paused. ‘Now, thanks to you, I’ll have a wife and heir shortly, too.’
‘But you didn’t want those before.’ He would have them already if that was the case. Had he ever wanted a family in the future?
He dropped his gaze. ‘I imagined Emiliano would take over eventually.’
So that was a no. Why? Surely, a man in his position would want companionship—an heir. But there was hurt in him. Deep hurt.
‘If you’re so happy to be Massimo Hearnshawe, why didn’t you tell me you were him when we flew back from Canada?’
‘I didn’t want anything to stop what was happening between us.’
She would have stopped had she known. Maybe. ‘You’re sure that I’d have recognised your name?’
‘Darling, you were wearing my team cap,’ he muttered.
The light amusement softened the defensive edge in him. She quickly sipped her juice to cover her melt. She’d been starved of affection for too long if a single darling could have this effect on her.
He sat down on the edge of her sun lounger and picked up her hand.
‘If I could do anything, I would still work with the cars. I love their sleek beauty—low to the ground, slimline with subtle curves, screamingly fast, sensitive to the slightest touch, fiery and difficult to control. All responsive strength and power.’ He slid his fingers up her arm as he spoke, teasing ever so lightly.
‘That’s what you find irresistible, huh?’ She covered his hand with hers, trapping it right over her breast.
‘Yes. There’s nothing more beautiful.’ He fluttered his fingers and shot her a wicked grin. ‘What would you do if you weren’t Lily Jones, Hearnshawe Racing mechanic?’
She shook her head. ‘Working in P1 Global is my absolute dream. I would still strive to get there.’
‘And Hearnshawe was your first pick.’
Even though he was right, she couldn’t resist slapping his royal smugness down. ‘Actually, I really wanted to get into Fournier, but my French isn’t any good.’
He chuckled. ‘So you were reduced to joining us.’
She’d never thought she’d actually be offered the job. ‘Derek encouraged me to apply. My quitting will let him down.’
She felt bad at that prospect. Derek had been happy for her to stay while she’d succeeded at the track, but now might be different.
Now he and Jean mightn’t want to see her anymore.
She couldn’t have a baby in the caravan anyway.
She would need her own place. Independent from everyone—especially Massimo.
‘You don’t need to quit,’ Massimo said, all teasing tone gone. ‘Sure, you might need a break when you’re too pregnant to fit beneath the car, but there’s more than one job you could do at Hearnshawe.’
‘I’m not interested in anything I haven’t earned,’ she muttered. That would be worse. Only tolerated in the factory because he’d knocked her up? That would be horrendous.
‘No nepotism?’ he said quietly. ‘As little help as possible?’
She stared at him. He was still acting as if their wedding was a foregone conclusion.
Driving the boat straight towards the iceberg with unbelievable, unrelenting arrogance and optimism, so certain he would get his way.
But marriage was a step too far for her.
She knew love had to be constantly earned and could easily be withheld—or worse, lost forever.
Nothing was guaranteed. Just because she was having his baby didn’t mean they had to be together.
Just because they had chemistry now didn’t mean it would last. Just because he was interested, patient, amusing…
She worried she wasn’t capable of earning anyone’s love, let alone keeping it. And worst of all, she didn’t want to have to earn it. She just simply, baldly, wanted it no matter what. Her heart wasn’t strong enough to cope with anything less than unconditional—and that was pure fairy tale.
‘I need my independence,’ she said.
‘The thing is if you marry me you’ll have more independence than you’ve ever known.’
She laughed abruptly, hiding the hurt welling up within her because she was finally beginning to see that he and she had completely different ideas about what marriage even meant.
‘You’re the bossiest person I’ve ever met,’ she said. ‘Which ought to be impossible given how domineering my dad is.’
‘I won’t be bossy once you agree,’ he tempted. ‘You’ll have the freedom to do anything you want—you could have your own garage, Lily.’
‘Freedom within a framework?’ she mocked. ‘No. Total independence is my default setting.’
‘Settings can be adjusted,’ he said. ‘Why not change gear? Rebuild even?’
Because you couldn’t rebuild something that had been completely broken.