by Suzanne Rock
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To Dan, for the evenings of Nintendo 64, the mornings of banana pancakes, and that afternoon on the beach when we were eighteen. You sure know how to have fun, babe.
I love you.
Chapter 1
One Year Ago
“This is so exciting!” Arianna Perconti clasped her hands together as she watched the last car—an electric blue McLaren—pull up under the large LAPS4KIDS banner on the racetrack.
“Someone is going to get killed.” Camille crossed herself and shook her head. “I can’t believe Stefan talked you into this.”
“Oh, stop worrying. Stefan Weisberg is a good friend. We’re helping him celebrate his retirement from NASCAR, and he’s helping my charity. It’s a win-win.” Ari grinned as the cars started their engines. “Just think of it, Camille—money. Finally I’ll gain a little freedom from my brother’s tight budget. We’ll be able to expand the charity, helping more kids than ever before. We might even shed those horrid rumors of embezzlement in the process.”
“The best thing you did was fire that slimy CFO,” Camille said.
“I know.” Ari sighed as she watched the staff at the track take their places. “Although my brothers and the media only see the poor decision I made in hiring him.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. It wasn’t your fault. The man was a Grade A con man. There were reports of him conning other people before you.” She shook her head. “But that’s all behind us now.”
“Yes,” Ari agreed. “This fund-raiser is perfectly timed. Without it, it would be that much harder to move forward.” She watched the brightly colored cars rev their engines. “The only downside is that I don’t get to drive, too.”
Camille turned to her, her features lit up in surprise. “Your brother would kill you.”
She flashed her friend a sly grin. “But it would be worth it, don’t you think?”
Camille shook her head. “I know you want to get out from under Leo’s thumb, but allowing untrained trust fund kids to race their personal cars around a racetrack…” She crossed herself again.
“They aren’t kids. Most of these race car fans are older than either one of us.”
“Those cars cost more than my house.”
Ari snickered. “Then you need a bigger house.” She nudged Camille with her elbow. “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s not like they’re really racing. They’re not allowed to go faster than seventy-five miles an hour. We photograph them as they come in to the finish line and then I take my picture with the winner as he and Stefan hand me a big cardboard check.”
Camille crossed her arms. “Hmph. I don’t know, Ari. Seems as if a lot could go wrong.”
“Stop worrying and enjoy the moment.”
Camille smirked. “Can’t help it. It’s in my nature. Besides, that’s what you pay me for.”
Ari laughed as one of the officials signaled for the cars to start. While her private box was nice, she wished she was closer. Unfortunately, Stefan had told her that the field was off-limits until the race was over and the winner was ready to take pictures.
Ari leaned against the window as the signal went up for the beginning of the race. The cars peeled away from the starting line in a cloud of smoke. The blue McLaren broke away early, its engine roaring as it flew past her window.
“That seems faster than seventy-five,” she observed.
“It is.” Camille pointed to a large computerized sign flashing the car’s speed—eighty-five miles an hour. “That’s way too fast. What does that guy think he’s doing?”
Excitement rippled through Ari. Whoever was driving that McLaren was a guy who liked to break rules and live dangerously. It was an incredibly hot combination. “That car is magnificent, isn’t it?”
“It’s dangerous.”
The sound of squealing brakes filled the air as the McLaren rounded a turn. “It’s sexy,” Ari whispered as she leaned closer.
“Good Lord, woman. You need to get out more.” Camille stood on her tiptoes. “One ten. No, one fifteen. Damn, Ari. He just keeps going faster.” She glanced at her friend. “Do you think Stefan will disqualify him?”
“I certainly hope not.” Ari smiled and grabbed Camille’s hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Down to the finish line. When that car stops, I want to be the first out on the field so I can see who it is.”
“Oh no.” Camille pulled her hand away. “I’m not going down there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s far too dangerous. Besides, I’m not really into racing. It seems…” She hesitated, as if searching for the right word. “Barbaric.”
“Fine. Stay up here then.” Ari glanced at the cars as they sped around the track. “I’ll go down without you.” The electric blue McLaren stood out from the others not only because of its speed and color, but also because of the skilled way the driver was navigating the track. Whoever was behind the wheel was used to driving fast and hard, and that meant that he was the polar opposite of her conservative, no-nonsense brother.
Which, in turn, meant that Ari just had to meet him.
* * *
There was nothing quite like driving a sports car at speeds of over one hundred miles an hour. Jason Stone knew that the McLaren could go faster, and he was tempted to push the pedal to the floor, but he didn’t. He might crave adrenaline, but he wasn’t reckless. There were too many cars on the track, all driven by nonprofessional drivers. It was far too risky to go any faster.
He crossed the finish line and did another lap, slowly bringing the car down to a more reasonable speed. He’d had the McLaren custom made, a gift to himself for closing a multimillion-dollar deal and securing the rights to some very innovative software. It was nice to see that the car had lived up to all of the hype.
Jason pulled off the track and opened the driver’s side door. As he emerged, his old friend Stefan hurried over.
“That was amazing,” the retired race car driver said as he clasped Jason on the shoulder. “That car can really go, can’t it? Where can I get one?”
“You can’t, it’s custom.” Jason grinned and pulled off his helmet. “Pretty little thing, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say.” Stefan stared at the car as he took off his baseball cap and pushed his hand over his receding hairline. “If you ever get tired of it…”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Stefan jerked his head up and let out a nervous laugh. It’s just…” He rubbed his dark mustache and shook his head in awe. “It’s an amazing car.”
Jason relaxed and ran his fingers over the hood. “Thanks.”
“I should disqualify you for going too fast, though.”
Jason grinned. “But you won’t.”
“No.” Stefan straightened and clasped his hand on Jason’s back. “It would be a crime to drive that car under eighty.”
“My feelings exactly.”
Stefan chuckled. “Well, I’m just glad I could give you the opportunity to open it up and see what it could do.”
Jason didn’t have the heart to tell his friend that he had already taken the car out and stretched its legs, many times. Every time he got behind the wheel, he was growing more and more fond of that car. It might even be his favorite out of his entire collection.
“Come,” Stefan said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He led Jason away over to the side, where the bystanders were watching and waiting to meet with the drivers.
“I told you that the proceeds of today’s event would go to a charity,” Stefan said as they walked.
“Of course.” Stefan had mentioned the name of the charity, but Jason hadn’t really paid attention. The charity itself didn’t matter. All that mattered was the driving. When Jason drove his race cars, he felt free. He could outrun his past and be liberated from the stress of the future, if only for a little while.
“What I didn’t tell you is that the winner around the track gets ten percent of the money raised as a prize and a picture with the charity’s owner.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Look around. No one needs the money here. But it was her idea, and she was rather stubborn about it. It’s supposed to help with publicity for the charity.” He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Her organization has been having some PR problems as of late.”
“I see.” So, this woman Stefan wanted him to meet was a socialite trying to use him to improve her reputation. Jason wasn’t impressed. He had known many women like that in his life. They all had more plastic than skin, and none of them had any common sense.
“Just play along, okay?” Stefan said, sensing his discontent. “It would mean a lot to me if you didn’t start a fight with this girl. Her family’s done a lot for my career.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Okay, fair enough. Just don’t expect me to make small talk.” Jason hated interacting with rich socialites. They were never interesting, and reminded him of a past he’d much rather forget.
They searched the crowd for about ten minutes, but Stefan couldn’t find whoever he had wanted Jason to meet. With his patience wearing dangerously thin, Jason put a stop to the search by saying he had an appointment to keep. Enough was enough. At one point in his life he had sat around and waited for rich socialites to make time for him. Not anymore. He’d worked far too hard to leave that life behind. He wasn’t going to be a lapdog for anyone.
“I’m sorry, Jason. I don’t know where she went.” Stefan looked genuinely distraught as he searched the crowd.
“It doesn’t matter. Thanks for the—” Jason stopped short a few feet away from his McLaren. There, a short, curvy woman was running her fingers over the hood of his car. Her back was to Jason, which was fine by him. It gave him a perfect view of her ass. Round and firm, it looked like a ripe piece of fruit underneath her printed, flowing skirt. Her wide-brimmed hat and casual sandals seemed at odds with the tailored dresses the other socialites wore. It only added to her appeal.
She looked and acted out of place. Instead of standing around with a champagne glass and talking about benign topics like the weather and the latest fashion, she peered into the driver’s side window of his McLaren and brushed her fingers against his steering wheel.
“It seems as if someone has taken an interest in my car,” Jason mused. He had the keys, so she wasn’t going anywhere, and it seemed as if the woman appreciated a good vehicle. That was rare in his world. This woman was becoming more and more fascinating by the second.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Stefan rushed forward to intercept her before she opened the driver’s side door. Jason hung back and twisted his lips into a half-smile as she began arguing with his friend. She still faced away from him, but it didn’t matter. He could hardly wait to meet her.
* * *
“I was just appreciating the car!” Ari told Stefan as she straightened her cream-colored blouse. “I couldn’t believe how fast it went. When it took that last turn I think my heart skipped a beat.” She glanced wistfully at the McLaren once more. “I just had to meet the person who drove it.”
“Well, today’s your lucky day, I guess.”
Ari stiffened and widened her eyes at the familiar voice behind her. It couldn’t be possible, could it? She slowly turned to face the man who had come up to join the conversation.
“Jason Stone.” The sun was directly behind him, so she placed her hand on her head to hold her hat down and squinted up at his face. Yeah, it was him all right. Just wonderful.
She had seen his picture in magazines and watched his interviews on television, but she had never met him in person before. Here, standing this close to him, she could see why he’d been named the second most eligible bachelor of the year—right behind her brother Leo. The man looked devilishly handsome with his neatly trimmed dirty-blond hair and bright, blue eyes. Tall and muscular, he filled out his leather jacket and jeans nicely.
Perhaps a little too nicely. The man had this gorgeous bad-boy thing going, but Ari knew she couldn’t give in to the impulse to flirt. He was the owner of Stone Suites, a hotel chain that rivaled her own and a thorn in Leo’s side, which made him even more appealing. Jason didn’t have the long history of being in the hotel business, unlike her family. Stone Suites was a pet project, a hobby he dabbled in on the side. His real income came from investing in new ideas. A venture capitalist, Jason bought up patents and copyrights, investing in technologies that gave his hotel chain an edge over Perconti Enterprises. Jason had a knack for picking the best ideas and then buying out the inventor to make the patents his. He profited off of people’s hard work for a living and, according to her brother, was a first-class asshole.
Jason was bad for business, and bad for the family.
“You’ve heard of me.” Jason tossed his large black helmet into the backseat and grinned at her. It seemed natural and carefree, just like him. He still had that close, slightly longer than military-style cut he’d had in the Whispers article she’d seen last week, and when combined with his dimpled smile, it gave him this boyish charm that was incredibly attractive.
Stefan sighed. “I suppose I should do introductions. Jason, this is Arianna Perconti. Ari, I see you already know Jason.”
“Only through the media,” Ari said as she extended her hand. “We’ve never met in person.”
Jason seemed surprised, but quickly recovered. “I see my reputation precedes me.” He grasped her fingers and raised them to his lips.
“Charmed.” Ari tried to ignore the tingling heat racing up her arm as his lips pressed against her knuckles. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I believe that puts me at a disadvantage because, besides being a Perconti, I know absolutely nothing about you.” He lowered her hand, but didn’t let go, instead squeezing her fingers in his warm palm.
“You can thank my brother Leo for that. He likes to hide me away from the media.”
“Let me go get the cameraman,” Stefan said as he backed away. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“We won’t.” Jason tightened his grip on Ari’s fingers as he waited for Stefan to leave. Jason tugged her closer. “An intelligent Perconti woman giving back to the community on her own terms,” he murmured as he slid his gaze down her body. “You must drive your brother crazy.”
Ari’s heart melted a little at the word intelligent. No one had ever called her that before. She knew that the media painted her as a dopey party girl, someone who couldn’t do anything without her brothers’ help. For years she had tried to change people’s minds, but the reputation clung to her like tanning spray.
“Leo’s just overprotective, that’s all. I like to do things my own way.” As she placed her hand on his chest to stop him from pulling her closer, she marveled at the ripple of muscle underneath his leather jacket. The more she talked to him, the harder it was to remember why he was off-limits. “I think I frustrate him sometimes
.”
Jason chuckled. “Then it appears we have something in common, Ms. Perconti.”
“Do we?” She dragged her gaze away from her hand and looked at his face.
He nodded as amusement twinkled in his eyes. “I frustrate your brother, too.”
Her breath caught as he flashed her his dimpled smile. “I guess we’re quite the pair, huh?”
“Yes, Arianna. Quite the pair indeed.” Heat rippled through her as the amusement in his features faded, replaced by something more intense and hungry.
Time seemed to stand still as the crowd around them faded away. Ari’s heartbeat quickened, and her legs felt weak. God, if he could affect her like this with just a look, imagine what he could do with a touch, a kiss …
Off-limits, she had to yell in her mind. After a long moment, she cleared her throat and glanced at the McLaren beside her. “Your car is beautiful,” she said in an effort to change the subject.
“It has nothing on you.”
“Flirt.” Ari felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she pulled her hand from his. “My brother warned me about you.”
“Oh really?” He seemed amused. “What did he say?”
“He said that you were a manipulative asshole.”
He snorted. “He’d be right—but only in the boardroom.” He reclined his arm on the car and inched his fingers toward her. “Outside the boardroom, I can be…”
“Kind?” She dragged her gaze back to his.
“Fun,” he corrected.
“Forgiving?” She leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
“Laid back.” He eased his fingers closer and twirled a long strand of her hair around his fingers.
“I like laid back.” She focused on his right dimple and wondered what it would feel like to run her tongue over it.
“You do?” He shifted his gaze from his fingers to her face.
She nodded. “I like fun even more.”
“Well, then.” He shifted his hand and hooked his finger under her chin. “It seems as if we have something else in common, Ms. Perconti.”
