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‘Come on, Serena, get a grip, get busy, move on,’ he’d say. ‘Boys don’t cry.’
Okay, then. Get busy. Move on.
Except alone now, with the dark shadows creeping over her skin like poison ivy, she felt...lost. Grappling with the annoying sense that she was forgetting something.
Oh.
This was the part where she ran out to Tom.
Cupping her hand, she covered her mouth, gritted her teeth and tensed her midriff to stop the sob threatening to rip past her throat. No. No!
She should never have come back here. Should have stayed away—
Footsteps bounded from the pit lane and she sucked great, humongous lungfuls of air through her nose, then blew out quick breaths. Over and over.
It was a good job too, because Finn strode into the shadows—and the intense magnetism he exuded was a tangible, vibrant combination of devil-may-care and decadent sin.
Blond hair now dark with sweat tumbled over his brow and he wore an indecipherable expression on his over-warm face, almost as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Impossible.
Bolstering her reserves, she stood tall as he drew near and threw his arms wide.
‘What did you think, baby?’
‘I think that by the end of the season I’ll be on a whole lot of medication. Good God, you’re a liability.’ A very expensive, scorching hot, stunning liability.
‘So you don’t wanna hang around with me any more?’ He clapped a hand over his left pec. ‘I think my heart’s broken.’
‘Come on, Finn, you and I both know you don’t have one. You take direction from another body part entirely.’
Standing there, smouldering with testosterone, he sneaked his tongue out to moisten his lips. When it came, his voice was a low groan. ‘You think about my body parts?’
That was it. Later she’d have no idea how she could veer from abject misery to munching on the inside of her cheek to stifle a snort of laughter. He was incorrigible. She hated him. Hated him!
‘I think about many of your body parts. Your neck, especially—the very one I’d like to wrap my hands around.’
She reminded herself that to be turned on by that cocksure smile was a gross dereliction of self-preservation.
‘Did you need something?’ she asked, thoroughly confused. ‘You’ve left your fans wailing for your return.’
‘No, I just wanted...’ He lifted his hand and scratched the side of his jaw in an uneasy, somewhat boyish manner.
‘What?’ she murmured, distracted by a small scar she’d never noticed before—a thin white slash scoring his hairline. How on earth had he got that?
‘I wanted you to say how awesome I am.’
‘Don’t be silly. You can barely fit your head through the open cockpit as it is. Keep dreaming.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. I will,’ he drawled suggestively. And just like that she was transported back to his yacht, his kiss. Then came the heat, curling low in her abdomen, licking her insides, making her shiver.
Honestly, she was certifiable. Without a doubt.
Much as earlier, he began to back out of the garage, taking his dizzying pheromones with him, and within a nanosecond fury overtook her. For the playful banter. For the way she’d allowed him to affect her so utterly.
‘By the way, I want to speak to you tonight,’ she said sharply.
Before he hit the bright light his feet froze mid-step. ‘Saying goodbye already?’
Tilting her head, Serena frowned. ‘Now, why would I do that?’
‘I won the race. I’ll charm the sponsors at dinner. Disaster averted.’
That was why he was so focused on winning? To get rid of her? Surely not. His need to win overruled all else. Unless what he was hiding was of far more importance.
Her heart flapping like a bird’s wings against a cage, she said, ‘I’m not going anywhere, Finn. I promise you that.’
Gazes locked, they engaged in some sort of battle of wills—one she had no intention of losing. She was here to stay.
‘Unfortunately, Miss Scott, I have a date this evening. With my good friend Black Jack. Unless you’d care to join us...?’
‘The Casino? I wouldn’t be seen dead there.’
And the smirk on his face told her he knew it!
‘Then I guess you’ll just have to catch me some other time, beautiful.’
Not if she could help it. The man had to get dressed on that den of iniquity, so she’d just have to corner him before he stepped foot on the harbour. There was no way on this earth she was going up to that swanky Casino, where the dress code pronounced that all women had to dress as if they were for sale. Not for love nor money. She didn’t even own a dress, for heaven’s sake.
