Race For Revenge (Lynsey Stevens Romance)

by Stevens, Lynsey

  ‘Danni?’ His yellow eyes were vulnerable for a split second as they questioningly searched her face.

  ‘I’m sorry. I had to wake you,’ Danni said quickly. ‘You were calling out in your sleep. I think you were having a nightmare.’ She stood back off the bed as he ran a shaky hand over his damp face. Tendrils of damp hair clung to his forehead.

  ‘I’ll get you a towel.’ She disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a dampened flannel and a fresh towel. His eyes were closed again and she bent over him, sponging his face and chest, trying not to allow her eyes to move downwards to where the sheet had fallen low on his hips.

  Levering himself up, Shiloh took the towel from her and wiped himself dry while Danni filled a glass with water and passed it to him. He downed it thirstily and grimaced. ‘I guess I was yelling a bit,’ he remarked, looking at her warily. ‘Did I say anything?’

  ‘You were mumbling incoherently and thrashing about,’ she said simply. ‘Have you had these dreams before?’

  ‘Once or twice. In the beginning.’ He threw the towel on to a chair and sighed. ‘I haven’t had one in months.’ Silence lay between them for a few seconds. ‘Sorry I woke you up.’ He flexed his shoulders stiffly.

  ‘That’s all right. Will you be able to sleep now? I mean, do you— Do you need anything else? More water? A cup of coffee?’

  He shook his head slightly and the spark of electricity that had burned between them earlier in the evening suddenly flared to mammoth proportions.

  ‘Well, I’ll get back to bed.’ Danni’s heart seemed to beat in her throat.

  ‘There is something else I need,’ he said softly. ‘You.’ His hand went out to her wrist, his eyes holding hers, moving down to her mouth, setting a trail of molten fire from her lips, to the pulse beating at the base of her throat, lower to the rise and fall of her breasts outlined beneath the thin cotton of her nightdress.

  Danni’s heart was racing and her mouth had gone dry. She was suddenly incapable of making a move to break the hold he had on her.

  ‘Danni.’ His voice was low and husky, sending vibrations through her entire body. ‘Don’t go.’ His hand on her wrist pulled her down to him.

  Danni knew she should resist, knew he would let her go if she pulled back, but did she want to? Wasn’t this exactly what she had wanted right from the beginning? Her eyes were enmeshed in the web of desire that spread from the depths of his, their tawniness flowing through her like molten gold, his pupils diluted in his heightened arousal.

  Gentle hands pulled her down on top of him and, as they lay length to length, his lips found hers, moving sensuously, each moment drawing her further away from the realms of conscious thought. In that moment, the past didn’t matter, held no meaning. There was only the present, now, with Shiloh’s lips on hers, his body pressed against every responding inch of her own.

  Her senses, her mind, her whole body reacted to his aroused maleness and she knew she could welcome drowning in the ecstasy of his kisses and caresses. His hands moved over the contours of her body beneath the thin cotton that separated them and soon her nightdress became a barrier, an object that sought to keep their straining bodies apart.

  Shiloh pulled her nightdress over her head and his strong arms held her above him, his gaze flaming as it settled on the peaks of her tingling nipples. Then she was lying in his arms, their bodies free, skin upon skin, as close as two people can ever be. The burning touch of his body against hers made coherent thought an impossibility. Shiloh’s hand moved over her hips, up to her breast, covering its taut arousal and, as his lips moved down to replace his hand, Danni moaned softly, yielding to his touch, her fingers twining in the soft fairness of his hair.

  ‘You’re more beautiful than I imagined.’ His voice was thick with heightened passion. ‘God, Danni, I want you so much!’

  ‘Shiloh.’ Danni’s voice was faintly slurred through the fullness of her swollen lips, still throbbing from his kisses. ‘We shouldn’t—Should we?’

  His firm body moved incredibly closer, one leg imprisoning hers, and she trembled with renewed awareness of his male hardness. His lips moved back to the hollow of her throat and up to tease her earlobe. ‘You want me, too, Danni.’ His lips trailed along the line of her jaw to the jut of her chin. ‘Don’t stop me now,’ he murmured huskily, ‘because I somehow don’t think I can.’ And his lips covered hers, demanding a spontaneous response which she met with a passion to equal his.

  Danni struggled through waves of sleep, wondering vaguely why there was a pinning weight lying across her body, preventing her from movement. She stirred in protest, turning her head on the pillow, her eyelids fluttering and then opening wide at the sight of Shiloh’s fair head resting heavily against her shoulder.

  Her body flushed at the intimacy of their position and the events of the night before came back to her in vivid detail. Her first instinct was to push herself away from him, put as much distance as possible between them, but how could the blame for what had happened be laid singly on either of them? Their lovemaking had been so right, something they had both wanted, needed, something neither of them could deny.

  She smiled to herself, a little flutter of love stirring delightfully within her. Of its own will her hand went up to smooth his sleep-tousled hair. It looked as untidy as it had the first afternoon she had met him on the practice track at Mallaroo. Her fingers moved caressingly from his hair over his slightly roughened cheek, where his fair lashes rested in a peaceful curve, down to his firm jawline, one finger coming to rest against his lips.

  He stirred and smiled sleepily, his arms drawing her closer. ‘If I’m dreaming all this, don’t dare wake me up to tell me,’ he murmured, his lips brushing her tautening nipple. ‘You’re a witch, Mrs O’Rourke, do you know that?’ His lips sought hers and once again they arched together in their mutual arousal.

  When the telephone jangled loudly, it was some time before the sound penetrated their private rapture.

  ‘Shouldn’t we answer the phone?’ Danni murmured.

  ‘Should we?’ he teased, his lips following the swell of her breast.

  ‘It might be important,’ Danni tried again without a lot of conviction.

  ‘So it might,’ he grinned ruefully, one hand groping for the receiver, winking at her as he held it to her ear.

  ‘Hello.’ Danni blushed as Shiloh’s lips renewed their teasing trail.

  ‘Who is that?’ The silky feminine voice was immediately recognisable.

  ‘Danni O’Rourke. What can I do for you, Mrs Damien?’ Danni felt Shiloh’s caresses cease and he raised himself on one elbow, watching Danni’s face.

  ‘Nothing, thank you,’ Marla’s tone was all condescension. ‘Actually I wanted to speak to Shiloh. Jock, your father, gave me this number. Do you know where I can reach him?’

  Danni, suppressed a desire to giggle hysterically. ‘Yes, he’s here. But he’s just a little busy at the moment,’ she said wickedly. ‘However, I’ll put him on.’

  Shiloh’s fair eyebrow rose as he took the phone. ‘Shiloh O’Rourke here.’

  Danni watched his profile as he listened to the other girl.

  ‘Are you sure he needs me right away? I understood we weren’t due at the track until ten o’clock.’ He listened for a moment, a frown puckering his brow. ‘All right, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ Letting the receiver fall back on to the cradle, he looked ruefully at Danni, his eyes lingering on the contours of her body. ‘I had a feeling we should have ignored that damn phone,’ he said gruffly, his hand moving to her body as though he was unable to stop himself.

  When she thought he would have said to heck with the phone call he dragged himself away from her and walked into the bathroom. Danni sat up, wrapping the sheet around her.

  ‘Why do you have to go out to the track so early?’ she called after him.

  ‘Marla didn’t hav
e any details.’

  ‘Oh.’ Danni pulled a face. Marla Damien spoke and Shiloh jumped. She sat and mulled over that thought.

  Shiloh’s head appeared around the door. ‘Danni, I’m sorry I can’t stay, but Chris wouldn’t call me out if it wasn’t important.’

  They looked at each other and Shiloh shook his head, reaching for his clothes. ‘Are you coming with me?’

  ‘I guess. If you want me to,’ she replied flatly.

  ‘That’s not the point. Look, I’ll send the car back for you. How about ten-thirty?’

  ‘Shiloh?’ Danni’s voice halted him by the door. ‘Do you have to— Must you race?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes. I’ve made a commitment to Chris.”

  ‘But, what if—? What about your leg?’

  ‘My leg’s fine.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘God, Danni, this is hardly the time to start on that. You know how it is? I’m not asking you to give up racing.’ He spoke as though she dabbled in the sport as a hobby, like oil-painting. ‘Look, I’ve got to go,’ he glanced at his wristwatch. ‘I owe Chris Damien quite a lot for taking me on.’ The door closed and he had gone.

  All morning a little battle went on inside Danni making her feel unfocused and out-of-sorts. Finally she decided she had to see Shiloh before either of them raced. She knew where she’d find him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘Hey, Danni, where are you going?’ Dallas looked up from the engine of the yellow Formula Ford.

  ‘Just across to the other pits. Won’t be long.’

  ‘You race in twenty minutes.’

  ‘I know that, Dallas,’ Damn replied shortly. ‘I’ll be back in time.’

  She had been at the track for over four hours and she hadn’t set eyes on Shiloh. Something deep inside her drove her towards the pits where the Formula 5000s were preparing for their race later in the afternoon. She wanted to see him before she went on the track, although she refused to acknowledge that she needed anything as basic as reassurance from him.

  His distinctive black and pale blue Formula 5000 was easy to find and there were quite a number of interested fans milling about the racing car under the watchful gaze of two overall-clad mechanics. Shiloh was nowhere to be seen, so Danni approached one of the crew and was directed to a tent nearby.

  The much trampled grass softened her footfalls as she neared the tent, and it wasn’t until she was about to slip under the overhanging awning that she recognised Marla Damien’s voice. She stopped in her tracks as she caught the other girl’s words.

  ‘Darling, you look so attractive in your racing suit and I’m sure you’re going to show them your dust if the heats are anything to go by. You were absolutely fantastic! It was just so exciting watching you drive.’

  ‘Thanks, Marla, for the ego boost.’ There was amusement in Shiloh’s voice. ‘And as to the race, well, we’ll see.’

  Marla laughed huskily. ‘You know, you’re too modest, darling. None of those drivers out there can match you in technique and they know it.’

  Shiloh laughed shortly. ‘And you don’t think old Lady Luck plays any part in it?’

  Realising she was eavesdropping, Danni felt decidedly foolish and moved again towards the tent opening.

  ‘We make our own luck.’ Marla’s voice had dropped a shade lower. ‘And I somehow have a feeling you’re going to be one of the winners.’

  ‘I lost last time I raced.’ Shiloh’s voice didn’t seem to hold any anger. ‘You didn’t lose any time getting out then.’ It was as though he was discussing something as mundane as the weather.

  ‘What was a girl to do?’ Marla said huskily.

  ‘What indeed? I don’t suppose at the time giving a little moral support crossed your mind.’

  ‘You’re a bastard, Shiloh O’Rourke. Perhaps that’s why I’m so crazy about you.’

  ‘Dare I remind you about Chris?’ Shiloh’s voice now contained a sharp edge.

  ‘Chris was there when I needed him,’ said Marla, ‘but now that you’re back and, well— Do I have to paint you a picture, lover?’

  ‘I’m back to race.’

  Marla laughed in her throat, causing a shiver of revulsion to pass over Danni. ‘And I know you’re going to win this time.’ Her tone was an implication in itself. ‘Chris has every faith in you. But just in case, to cover all exits, I don’t think a kiss for the very best of luck would be out of order, do you?’

  Danni stood transfixed in the tent opening, watching Marla’s red-tipped fingers move in Shiloh’s fair hair, almost the same way that Danni’s fingers had moved through his hair that morning. Pain rose from deep within her and, as Shiloh’s hands went to the other girl’s waist, Danni must have made some involuntary sound, because Shiloh’s eyes turned and locked with hers.

  Marla Damien was a little slower to react and when she turned to face Danni there was a certain flash of smugness reflected in her almond eyes. Swinging on her heel and ignoring Shiloh’s call after her, Danni all but ran back to the van where Dallas was pacing nervously up and down.

  ‘Good grief, Danni, you’re sure cutting it fine,’ he said tersely, reaching for her helmet. ‘Are you okay? You look a bit pale.’

  ‘I’m fine, Dallas. Don’t fuss. Let’s get on to the track.’

  She sat on the starting grid, the vibrating throb of the engine about her, her body seemingly a thing apart from her mind. There were seven cars in front of her, but at that particular moment she was totally oblivious to their shape or their sound.

  At least now she knew where she stood. God, what a fool she was! Shiloh had made no secret of the fact that he had wanted her, desired her physically, right from the start, and now he had had what he wanted. Like a lovesick fool she had fallen into his arms, ripe for the picking. And he had gone straight from her bed at a word from Marla Damien and ended up in her arms.

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to blot out the picture of the two of them that seemed to be stained on her mind. When she opened her eyes the track was cleared and the starter stood poised on his stand. She must force it all to the back of her mind, think about it later. For now, the race needed all her concentration. But one thing was for sure, Shiloh O’Rourke would not get the chance to humiliate her again, she promised herself that. He wouldn’t get close enough.

  The flag fell and with grim, cold resolution Danni left twin black ribbons on the asphalt behind her.

  Dallas helped her out of the car and for once he was speechless. She removed her helmet and looked at his startled face.

  ‘Well, Dallas. Our first win,’ she said, her senses still high with exhilaration and just a little shocked dismay.

  ‘God, Danni! You just took ten years off my life,’ Dallas burst out. ‘What, by all that’s holy, came over you? I’ve never seen you drive like that, so— So bloody—’ He lifted his hands and let them fall in bewilderment.

  ‘Single-mindedly?’ She raised her eyebrows.

  In all honesty she couldn’t explain to herself what had come over her. Up till now she would have described herself as a defensive rather than an aggressive driver, but today she had driven like a fiend, taking chances she could even now scarcely believe she had taken. Oh, she had always driven to win, but—

  Pushing these thoughts aside, she looked up at her mechanic. ‘How about some congratulations instead of that long face, Dallas? I would have thought you would be delighted.’

  ‘Well, I am. But bloody hell, Danni! What made you drive like that?’ The fact that Dallas was swearing said much for his distress.

  ‘There’s no pleasing you, Dallas Byrne.’ Suddenly the whole thing had gone flat. She wanted to be alone, alone to come to terms with the reactions that were beginning to set in. Her legs felt rubbery, as though they were about to give way beneath her, and she turned to walk around to the door of the van to change her clothes, to
sit down before she fell down.

  She had begun the race half way down the field of starters and from there had worked her way to the lead through sheer determination, pushing herself and the car to the limit, outmanoeuvring the drivers in front of her, to take the race on the last straight by half a car’s length, oblivious to the roaring excitement of the crowd. Now, as she looked back, it seemed as though a demon had been driving her, pushing her, forcing her onwards. And she, before anyone else, realised the danger, the foolhardiness in that.

  She had only taken two steps towards the van when her arm was seized in a punishing grip and she was wrenched around to face a tall livid figure.

  ‘Just what the hell was that supposed to prove?’ Shiloh’s voice was deceptively low, the words forced out between lips tight with anger.

  ‘Shiloh, you’re hurting me!’ She tried to pull her wrist from the pain of his grasp.

  ‘Hurting you? I should take a strap to you! It would be a fraction of what you deserve after that display of bloody stupidity!’ His hands went to her shoulders and he shook her until she thought she would faint.

  Dallas moved forward, putting a restraining hand on Shiloh’s arm. ‘That’s enough, O’Rourke. This isn’t going to accomplish anything.’

  Dallas’s words stilled Shiloh’s hands, but he didn’t even glance at the other man. ‘Keep out of this, Byrne. It’s between Danni and me.’

  ‘Look, I’m not going to stand by and let you—’

  ‘I said, keep out of it.’ Shiloh’s eyes flashed coldly as he pushed Danni towards the door of the van. ‘My wife and I have things to discuss. Alone,’ he finished pointedly.

  Dallas took a step forward, but Danni shook her head, knowing Shiloh wouldn’t hesitate to knock him down. She almost fell up the steps, propelled by Shiloh’s strong arm, and as he slammed the door closed behind him she turned on him, preparing to do battle.