CHAPTER 3
Oh yes, Darius Spencer 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. Nathalie 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 Zion, she hadn’t had much time left over to nurture her other relationships.
First she’d become involved with a man who wanted Zion’s money but not Zion. 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 Zion—at least until he’d found a far lower-maintenance woman.
Zion’s heart had been broken when her boyfriend no longer came around to see him. After that, Nathalie 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 Zion wasn’t going to be hurt by anyone else, rather than risk dating again. Not that getting in the car with Darius was asking 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. Darius 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,”
Darius 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.
Nathalie 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 Zion 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.
“Comfortable?”
With the sun behind him, his eyes were shadowed, but she could have sworn heat sparkled in their depths.
“I’m fine.”
Her answer was low, breathy, too close to a moan. She cleared her throat.
“I’m great. Thank you.”
He pulled back slowly, his gaze still dark and intense, making her pulse beat even harder. After he secured his belt, he started the engine with a roar, and put a hand on the gear shift.
“Ready?”
With a man like him, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready. But she managed a nod. He took off with a burst of speed, and she hung on to the door with one hand, clutching the seat tightly with the other, down by the gear box where he wouldn’t see.
“Don’t worry,”
he yelled over the rush of wind,
“I won’t go too fast.”
Didn’t he get that everything he was doing was already too fast? Her hair whipped around her face, and she had to let go of the seat to pull it back. She needed two hands to bunch the thick locks at the back of her head, out of her eyes and her lipstick. She was flying free beside him, held in only by the harness, as the wind screamed past her ears. And he was smiling, watching her.
“Look at the road,”
she shouted at him. She felt him brake as he went into the turn at the end of the runway. It felt like they were going too fast, but the back end didn’t slide as he went into the second turn, heading down the opposite runway. Her body swayed and jostled in the leather seat. She could taste the salt air on her lips.
In the distance, she could see Zion jumping up and down, punching his fist high. Darius went faster and faster, making her blood pound in her ears and the wind beat against her chest. She should have told him to slow down, to stop and let her out. She should be calling him a maniac, even screaming at him.
Yet right then, Nathalie had the insane urge to raise her arms in the air like a teenager on a roller coaster. A crazy voice inside her whispered, Do it. Unable to resist the pull of excitement and the thrill of the speed racing through her, she let herself go, throwing her hands up and her head back. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
Maybe it was the combination of fear and danger and the pure joy of soaring through the air that made her feel so alive, with every nerve firing. Or...maybe it was the man beside her. Nathalie was utterly gorgeous, the sun sparkling in her wind-tossed hair, ecstasy glowing on her face. She didn’t shout or cheer—but she did hold up her arms.
And she smiled. The most beautiful smile Darius had ever seen. He wasn’t even near freeway speed, yet the shriek of the motor, the rumble of the pipes, and the open sky above them made it seem as if the car were flying at over a hundred miles an hour. Just as he’d promised, he took her around only once. He didn’t want to push her limits. Not yet, anyway.
While harnessing her in, it would have been so easy to touch her, to let his fingertips graze her gorgeous skin. His heart had hammered with the desire to put his hands on her. Even now, his fingers sizzled with her heat, and her sweet scent filled his head. But he could tell that she wasn’t like the women he usually spent his time with—women who knew the score and were in it for what they could grab before he moved on.
Nathalie Adler was different. And he liked that, liked knowing that wooing her would be unlike anything else he’d ever done in his life. Even if a voice in his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be looking for anything more than a quick roll between the sheets with her. Not because she didn’t deserve more, but because she did.
So much more than a fundamentally broken man like Darius could ever give her. He slowed after the last turn, heading back to her brother. Back to sanity for both of them. For now. She let her arms drop, and her sleeve brushed his arm as she said,
“That was fast.”
She was trying for a noncommittal tone, but he could hear the irresistibleness she was trying to hide. She might normally be good at hiding her feelings, but Darius was too interested in her to miss one single thing. Especially the thrill of the speed still coursing through her veins.
“Too fast? Or just right?”
Her eyes met his and sparks jumped between them again. Sparks that had been there from the very first moment they’d looked at each other. Finally, she admitted,
“It was good,”
her words a little huskier than he imagined she wanted them to be. Ahead of them, Zion was hopping, skipping toward the car. He looked so happy. Which, Darius was glad to see, made Nathalie very happy, too. They rolled to a stop and he said,
“Let me give you a hand.”
But she didn’t wait for his chivalry, simply unbuckled before he could help her and said,
“I’m fine, thanks,”
then turned to grab the roll bar and hoist herself up. Zion ran over to them.
“Wasn’t it cool, Nathalie?”
“I enjoyed it.”
Her answer was far too tight-laced, but Darius knew that for a few moments out there, she’d been one with the car and the rush of speed. Just as he had.
“But once was enough,”
she added, smoothing her jacket, then her skirt, and finally her hair.
“Once is never enough,”
he said softly. Despite how hard she was working to rein herself in, he heard her breath catch on the slightly sensual undertone to his words. Darius knew that if her brother hadn’t been standing right there, he would have done something crazy, like grab her and kiss her. No, he wasn’t good enough for her. But that knowledge didn’t keep him from wanting her.
If anything, he was even more powerfully drawn to the good in her, to the sweetness and warmth she shared with her brother.
“I don’t have to be anywhere special for another couple of hours. I can show you the Aston Martin at my place.”
In truth, Darius had a dozen important things to take care of today, but Zion was like a bright, mystical sphere that beckoned him closer, a breath of something clean that made him feel young instead of jaded. And then there was Nathalie. Beautiful, unique Nathalie with all that tightly leashed passion inside of her just waiting to be set free...
“We really can’t,”
she protested at the exact moment Zion said,
“That would be way cool.”
The traces of the woman with her arms over her head in his car were disappearing fast. Much too fast, as she said,
“We’ve imposed long enough. This was far more than we expected.”
“Spending time with both of you hasn’t been any imposition at all.”
He grinned at Zion.
“No one has ever enjoyed my cars as much as you have. And the truth is that I like showing them off.”
“Can we, Nathalie? Please.”
Her brother rocked on his toes, hands behind his back, his notebook clutched tightly in his fingers.
“You can follow me over in your car and leave when you’re ready,” Darius added.
“Where do you live?”
Her tone was wary, but at least she wasn’t still completely shutting down his idea.
“Lyrcius Valley.”
Zion's notebook was now tucked under his arm, his palms pressed flat together. He stood right in front of Nathalie mouthing, Please, please, please. Darius knew it was dirty pool to let Zion do all the convincing, but the boy wanted it as much as Darius did. He recognized the moment Nathalie relented. She shot out one sharp breath, and shook her head in a quick move as though she was telling herself she was an idiot—or a softie.
“All right. But we can’t stay long, Zion. Mr. Spencer is a busy man.”
“I thought you were going to call me Darius.”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
But he knew she hadn’t. She didn’t forget a thing, he could easily see that. She was simply trying to put distance between herself and that fast ride in the car. And him, most of all.
“We’ll follow you,” she said,
“but please don’t drive too fast or I might lose you.”
Oh, he wasn’t about to let her lose him. Just like he wasn’t planning on losing her.
“No fast driving on the way over,” he promised.
One thing she’d learn about him was that he always kept his promises. Darius had been anything but honest in his youth—far from it, as he’d done countless things that had given Sally and George gray hairs—but they’d also been the ones to teach him the power of his word. Darius hadn’t broken a promise since he was eighteen. His tattoo burned on his arm as a perpetual reminder of the things he’d done and the people he’d hurt.
“Can I go with Darius?” her brother asked.
“Zion,” she admonished softly.
“You shouldn’t invite yourself along like that.”
“But I already invited myself to see Darius cars,” Zion said logically,
“and he said yes to that.”
Zion certainly had a way about him, Darius thought with a smile. The kid’s great attitude was contagious.
“No problem, buddy, you can drive with me.”
As for Nathalie, he’d make sure she drove with him again, too. Only next time, he’d take her so far and so fast, and make it so good, that she wouldn’t dream of asking him to slow down.
