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He was left with the ludicrous urge to lift the froth and take a peek at her feet.
A small smile teased her lips. ‘Don’t tell me. You need to look.’
Finn shrugged, feeling oddly boyish. He’d never been obsessed with a woman, and the hunch that obsession was definitely the evil he was up against made him recoil, take a step back.
Serena, however, took that as an invitation to show off, and she slowly, seductively, inched her skirts up her calves, then lifted her dainty little foot and flexed her ankle this way and that.
The diamond-studded sandals twinkled in the light, sending prisms of colour to dance across the walnut floor.
‘You’re very pleased with yourself, there, Miss Scott.’
Smoky sultry make-up enhanced the colour of her grey gaze as she sparkled up at him. Lips glossed, pink and full taunted him as she spoke in a rush. ‘I am. No boots, no slippers, and I can actually walk. Who knew wedge sandals actually existed?’
The way she was looking at him—confident, serene, enchanting...
Dammit. How was he going to get through this night? Need was a ferocious claw in his gut, slicing deeper with every second.
‘You look sensational, baby.’
‘Why, thank you, Finn. But do you know what’s really scary?’
‘What?’
Her brow nipped, as if she were controlling her emotions. ‘I think I do too.’
‘That’s my girl.’ His voice cracked under pressure. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. The helicopter awaits.’ He held out his arm and shut down every possessive instinct in his body. ‘Shall we go to the ball, Miss Scott?’
She slipped under the crook of his arm, pressed her breast in tight to his side and his pulse shot through the roof.
‘Why, yes, I believe we shall, Mr St George. I have a feeling this is going to be a night to remember.’
Finn tried to swallow around a lifetime of regrets. ‘Curiously enough, so do I.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘CONGRATULATIONS, SERENA, she’s a beauty.’
‘Thanks!’ she said for the hundredth time as she cut through the swathe of racing drivers, TV pundits and VIP celebrities littering the champagne reception.
Despite her stomach doing a really good impression of a cocktail shaker, she’d slipped free of Finn’s arm an hour earlier. Half of her was adamant not to appear clingy and her other half was determined to venture out on her own. An endeavour that had whipped her into a whirlwind of team chit-chat, photos and promo for the SL1 until she felt high as a proverbial kite.
It couldn’t possibly be the champagne. Truthfully, she thought it was a disgusting blend of wince-worthy tartness and bubbles exploding up her nose. She’d do anything for a beer.
Spotting a familiar face in a bunch of footballers, she pulled up alongside her dad, waited for a lull and then tugged at his sleeve. ‘Have you seen Finn anywhere? We’re supposed to be heading into the marquee for dinner.’
‘Not lately. Good God, you look stunning, sweetheart. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when you walked in.’
‘That makes two of us.’ Jake Morgan sidled up to join them, his chocolate gaze liquid with warmth. ‘You look fantastic, Serena.’
‘Oh, stop, now you’re making me blush.’ She gave a small smile to soften the brush-off—she still wasn’t used to compliments. She kept expecting someone to shout Impostor! Fraud! Even if she felt...well, beautiful for the first time in her life. All giddy and girly.
And if that aroused an anxious tremble in her stomach she ignored it. There’d be no dark shadows tonight.
She took a deep, fortifying breath and switched gears. ‘I can’t wait to see my baby whizz around Silverstone tomorrow.’
‘She’ll win for sure,’ someone said.
‘Too right she will.’ As long as Finn kept his mind on the game.
‘Can I get you a drink before we head over?’ Jake asked.
Inwardly cringing at the thought that she’d end up with another glass of fizz, she said, ‘Actually, Jake, I’ll come with you.’
The bar was the traditional mahogany type: deep and framed with brass rails. Serena gripped the cold metal as they deliberated over the mirrored wall of various optics.
‘What does gin taste like?’ she mused.
‘Not sure, but it used to put my mother in a crying jag.’
Serena snorted a laugh, turned round. ‘Really?’
And that was when she caught a glimpse of dirty blond hair in the mirror’s reflection and twisted to see Finn laughing in that charming, charismatic way of his.
‘You pick, Jake. I’ll be back in a tick.’
