"Are youse wanting my help or no?" Tam tapped his foot. "Cos we've not long to do anything."
"Sorry, I'll score points later," Darcy said.
Gael nodded. "I'll get my own back later. Sorry Tam. Go on, what can you do?"
A lot, it seemed. Half an hour later, dressed as a pilot and totally ignored as he walked through the airport wearing his second officer's spare uniform, Gael was obviously considered to be no one important. With no specific insignia on, most people had no interest in him. He exited the airport as arranged, walked across the road and into the car park. Within seconds a dark grey BMW sports car drew up next to him and Darcy winked at him from the driver’s seat.
"Goin' mah way, big boy?" She'd ditched the jacket and cap and wore a plain white blouse with the top three buttons open, and a hint of black lace showing through the fine lawn. His body tightened. Gael was a sucker for black lace showing under white anything.
"Every time, sugah." He put his jacket and case in the boot and got into the passenger seat. He adjusted the seat and flicked the window visor down and twisted it so he could see the road behind them in the mirror.
"Let's hope you're not a back seat driver, or you'll be walking." She pushed overlarge black-rimmed sunglasses back up her nose, released the brake, and the car shot off. Gael gritted his teeth. He was a shit passenger.
"God almighty woman, who are you trying to kill?" They'd left the airport as if the paparazzi were following them, not still clustered around the arrivals doors. "Mind that motor bike." They shot past the said bike and swerved onto the slip road. "Where are you going?"
"Home and I warned you. My car, I drive, you shush. This is a new road, well an upgraded one. How long since you came out here?" She changed gears, put the palm of her hand on the horn and kept it there as they overtook a lorry, which seemed to want two lanes, not one.
"Too long, if I don't recognise this." Gael forced himself not to grab on to the door's grip handle and concentrated on not sliding out of the seat and onto the floor. "Hold on, that shopping centre looks familiar. They’ve done a brilliant job of upgrading this. Are you going onto the main road now?"
"Unless you want to cuss at the queue in each village, yes. Why?" She put her foot on the brake and the car slowed almost to snail’s pace. They were approaching a large roundabout. "Tell me now."
She drove like she thought she should be in the next grand prix, not him. Dare he ask to drive? One look at her face showed him she was expecting him to do just that, and her answer would be short and not positive.
"Don't want to queue, just wondered. I'm in your hands." He waited until they were safely—and to his relief—not exceeding the speed limit, heading north on a largely empty dual carriageway, before he spoke again. "Do we need to shop?"
"Only if you can't wait for the milk to defrost."
Now she'd confused him. Frozen milk? Luckily Darcy seemed to understand his confusion and took pity on him. "I come out every couple of months and keep all the basics in the freezer. Just in case it's a spur of the moment trip, like today and I don't have a chance to ask the property management team to stock up. Oh and no, I don’t have a housekeeper. I'll just let Sonia at the team know I'm here, and no one will bother us. Anything else?"
"Do you have wine?"
She spluttered. "Yes, I have wine."
"Then we're sorted." Gael decided to shut his eyes. Why had he not known that a fast, okay he admitted and safe, driver his wife was? He hadn't thought there was even a remote chance he'd fall asleep, but the activity of the last few days took its toll, and the next thing he knew was someone was shaking him.
"Whaa…?" He opened his eyes and saw the soft flushed face of his wife loom over him. Gael gave into temptation, lifted his hands to cup her face and fastened his mouth to hers.
Her lips parted and he thrust his tongue between them. She groaned and it reverberated though him, as he deepened the kiss. It was all too easy to tighten his hold on her as she swayed into him, until her breasts pressed against his chest. Gael moved one hand to stroke the soft globe of her rear. He leaned back to pull her on top of him and something long and hard dug him in the back.
"Wh…" The gear lever impeded him. Gael wriggled forward again, gentled the kiss and ended it. "I'm too old to make out in a car."
"Eh?" Darcy blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. "Oh shooteroooney. We're in my drive."
"We're half in your car," Gael said. "And I'm rigwelted."
Darcy half laughed, and straightened up until she was upright and out of the car. "Where do you get your expressions? You're Italian."
"Half Italian, and my granddad Briggs was from Yorkshire, remember. He used to say it all the time. ‘Eh lad, tha'll get rigwelted f you don't move off yer bum.’" His Yorkshire accent was creditable, even if he did say so himself. "Give me a haul up."
Darcy giggled and stuck her hand out. "Come on, you oldie, you. How on earth do you get in and out of your racing car?"
It wasn't often she spoke about his job voluntarily, and it was a struggle for Gael not to show his surprise. "That's different. It's made to fit me. This is made for midgets."
"Hardly." Darcy, opened the car boot, grabbed a suitcase and carry-on bag, and walked toward a blue painted door with a wooden sign on it that proclaimed Villa Romantica. Gael looked properly at her home for the first time.
It took his breath away, and not a lot of things could do that. Not large, the whitewashed walls sparkled in the sun. Multi-paned windows were shuttered in blue, and on one side a balcony covered in some greenery or another, begged for visitors.
"Perfect, cara. Just perfect. My villa is lovely but not like this," Gael said sincerely. It was also four times the size and had none of the quirky charm that Villa Romantica had. He took out his own luggage and followed her across the gravel. "Can we swap?"
She punched his arm. "Nope. You'd get stir crazy after a while. This is very much two up, two down. What's yours, ten up ten down?"
"Not quite. But yeah, a little bigger. This looks better though. More people friendly." More couple friendly anyway. Especially when you wanted to get the other half of the couple around to your way of thinking.
Darcy opened the door and stood back to let him enter. "On you go. Oh and as the car will be collected soon, you might want to keep out of sight for a while. I said to give me a couple of hours, but their timekeeping isn't always that good."
"Car? So what do we use? Our feet? That's not a lot of help with half of the forth estate parked down the road. Or do we sneak cross country to the village?"
"In wigs and you with a false moustache? That'll make us blend in, all right."
"I get your point. But what if we want a car in a hurry?"
"Mine is in the garage over there." Darcy waved toward a building he hadn't noticed. "I'm not leaving it at the airport for weeks on end; I either get a taxi or one of those drive-and-have-it-collected deals. So make sure you haven't left anything incriminating in the car."
"All present and correct." He followed her upstairs, dumped his case in the room she said very firmly was his, and changed into board shorts and a t-shirt. If he hung out of the window and looked to the left he thought he could see the side of his house. He could definitely see sun reflecting off cars in the lane.
"You can see better from the balcony off my bedroom if you squint through the vine. Great for spying." Darcy's breath was warm on the back of his neck. "Why are they so sure you'd head here?"
"I'm a man of habit. If I'm not testing or at wherever the next race is, it’s usually one of two places. If I only have a few days break, I come here. Now that Mama and Papa have relocated to Barbados, any longer and I head there." He laughed. "We have a real family enclave." He didn't add that he hoped in the future to add Scotland to his list of places, and maybe have another place for family to gather. That was jumping the gun.
An hour later, Gael sat on the balcony and listened to Darcy quiz the driver who'd turned up to collect the hir
e car. They spoke in Spanish, which he had no problem in understanding. Within a few minutes, there was the sound of the car departing, and a whirring noise which, when he looked downward, saw was the electronic gate closing. Seconds later Darcy appeared holding two long frosted glasses.
"Nothing fancy, just sparkling water and a twist of lime. Did you get any of that?" She gestured toward the drive, and handed a glass over.
"I'm thought to be on the island because someone shared my flight path? Yeah I got it. Bastards."
"It's life, as you told me on several occasions." Darcy sat next to him on the long padded seat and put her legs over his. It had been one of her favourite positions in the past, and he thought she'd done it without thinking.
Darcy sipped some water and then seemed to notice how they were sitting.
"Oh knickers, sorry."
Gael took her glass from her and put it on the floor alongside his.
"Don't be. I like it." He swung her legs down and lifted her into his arms. Her hands went around his neck as he began to walk inside. Gael risked a swift kiss on the nape of her neck and felt her erotic shiver as she sighed and closed her eyes. "But I reckon we'll both like where I'm going, even better."
Darcy hung onto Gael for grim death as he stepped over the threshold into her bedroom. The overlarge bed dominated the room, and he dropped her onto the mattress so she bounced gently.
"Do you agree?" Gael spoke quietly as he looked down on her. "I'm not asking for anything you don't want to give freely, cara. I'm not demanding we make love or you come back to living my life. I'm just asking that we maybe try to discover what we had, and see if we can make it better. We're older, hopefully I'm wiser, and oh lord Darcy, I miss you. Life without you is life without sun and brightness. A grey word where I go through the motions."
"You win races."
"That's going through the motions. If I focus on that, I can almost forget I pushed away the most important person in the world. All through my own stupidity." He sank down next to her and feathered tiny nips and caresses over her cheeks. "Can I ask her to give me another chance and let us rediscover what we lost?"
Chapter Six
"Can I, Darcy?" Gael leaned back a little so she could see his face clearly. "Can we?"
Darcy took a deep breath. Hadn't she been wondering the same thing? Didn’t she have a couple of tickets hidden in her safe with entrance to the forthcoming Monaco race and British Grand Prix in a few months’ time?
"No sex?"
Under his tan he paled. "Not just sex, no. However, I reserve the right to try and get you to agree to make love." He was silent for a moment, and stroked her arm almost as if he didn't know what he was doing. "That's what we always did, wasn't it, cara? Not sex, not ever just sex."
He was almost correct. Even when he had hardly any time for her, if they did come together it was to make love, never just to scratch an inch. Right up until…
Darcy bit her lip. There was no point in rehashing that last time when she felt she was a commodity, a convenient body for him to use. With hindsight, was it only his fault? She hadn't said anything, done anything to tell him she wasn't happy. It was only after that, along with the snips and sneers from his manager she decided enough was enough.
"Not…" Damn it, if they did want a future she had to be honest. "Not until the very end and that was as much my fault as yours. Well, and your asshole ex-manager who knew just how to turn the knife." Darcy wriggled until she was flat on her back and tugged Gael until he had to put one hand over her and on the bed so she wasn't squashed. "Why was he so set on me not being in your life? Did he have a daughter he wanted for that position?"
"Not that I'm aware of. Nah, he was scared you'd influence me and get me to stop racing. It was obvious it scared you rigid."
"The fucker." Darcy sat up, and pushed Gael so he landed on his back. She punched the pillow, then jumped off the bed and began to pace the room. "How bloody dare he? Of course I was scared. Oh not because I didn't trust you or your driving. It was all the others out there trying to do the same as you and win. That was what scared me. The fact that some other bugger would carve you up. No, I didn't articulate it. The one time I tried, you told me not to be daft, and me as a wee wet behind the ears twenty year old from the wilds of Scotland, I shut the fuck up and never tried again. Then you had the sodding crash and fire, and asshole Joff told me to man up, grow up, or bugger off. And bloody hell, wash my mouth out. See what the thought of him has done to me? Got me swearing like a navvy." She plonked herself back down on the bed, and gripped his shoulders hard.
"Now I'm all agitated for the wrong reasons."
Gael winced and Darcy glanced at her white knuckled grip. "Sugar, sorry."
He prised her hands open and drew her in for a hug. "Don’t be. You’ve been honest, so now I will be. First though, wouldn't you be more comfortable with your shirt off? It's very warm in here."
"We could put the air-con on."
"Waste of money. Better to strip off instead."
Darcy bit back a grin. "We could just go outside or down to the pool."
"Public display? Tut, tut?"
"The garden is private, but I mean clothed of course."
"Telephoto lenses."
"We'd be dressed."
"They'd know I was here."
"Oh yes. Ah well." Darcy waited until Gael's hands went to her buttons. "You'd best stop in your room then, and I'll go for a swim."
His fingers stopped moving. "You what?" The expression on his face would have been comical except it was evident he thought she meant it.
Darcy decided she’d better put him out of his misery. His body had responded to hers as it always used to, and his shorts were tented. "Later. I'll go for a swim later. With you, I hope. But now…" She grinned and rolled flat on her back, and put her hands to the few buttons still in their buttonholes, and undid them slowly. Gale watched her, his eyes flickering as her hands moved lower until she opened her blouse to expose the black lace bra she wore underneath.
"Show me what I've been missing?"
Gael's eyes narrowed and he smiled. The smile of a happy predator, of a man who had all his birthdays come at once.
"My pleasure, cara, definitely my pleasure. And yours I hope."
So did she.
What followed she decided was what dreams were made of. And hopefully reality. Gael slipped the shirt from her arms, and reached under her to release the clasp of her bra, before he drew it off and flung them both over his shoulder.
"I've always wanted to do that. Very Gone With the Wind-ish." His t-shirt followed and he kicked his shorts vaguely in the same direction.
"Did they do that?" Darcy hadn't seen the film or read the book.
"No idea, but it seems suitably over the top. One of your books’ heroes maybe?"
"Not yet but it will be." Darcy couldn't tear her gaze away from his cock, which stood up proudly from its nest of dark hair. The tip glistened with evidence of his arousal, and she swallowed, dry mouthed.
"Then how about we get rid of your skirt and see what else romantic I can do?" Gael tugged at the elastic waistband and pulled it downward. "Shit, cara, I'm shaking, I want you now."
"I always knew there was a good reason not to wear skirts with zips," she said shakily, as somehow he managed to snag her knickers and get rid of those at the same time.
"Exactly." Those garments drifted over his head as well.
This time though, either he wasn't concentrating or his shaking negated his strength more than she would have thought possible. The skirt fell onto the pillows and her knickers landed on his head, the lacy band around the top draped over his eyes like some exotic mask.
Gael sputtered and blew an inch of black lace out of his mouth, and removed the crotch from his ear.
Thank goodness it was there and nowhere else. Darcy plucked her underwear from her husband's face and giggled. "That's a new kink I've not heard of."
"No? Ah your education is lacking. It
's the latest fetish. A new blindfold and all that. But not for us, not when I need to see you and do this." Gael rolled on top of her and wedged one strong thigh between her legs.
"Open for me, cara." He nudged her legs apart and then put one ankle over each shoulder. Like that his cock nudged her pussy and Darcy's breaths hitched. It had been way too long.
"Now." She lifted her bum and grabbed his ass to pull him closer and encourage him inside her.
Not that he needed encouraging. As he filled her, and set up a steady thrust and pull back, Darcy matched him, movement for movement. He bent his head and somehow managed to suck and nip one of her hard-to-the-point-of-painful nipples.
It was all she needed. It had been way too long. Darcy began to shake. Her scalp tingled and goose bumps covered her sweat-slicked skin.
"Argh, got to…" Gael voice was faint. He thrust so hard, Darcy saw stars and the pulse between her legs throbbed hard and fast. She screamed and fell into a hard and rapid climax. Gael shuddered, shouted her name as hot wet heat filled her, and he slumped on top of her.
The only sound in the room was their breathing: harsh, irregular, and juddering.
Darcy had no idea how long they stayed there, joined and sated, until Gael stirred, lifted his head from her neck and kissed her nose.
"To put it into basic terms, cara, I'm fucked. Sated, shattered, and I've got as much energy as a worn out light bulb. Give me a sec to move though, because I'm about to reluctantly fall out of you, and I don’t want to spoil this nice sheet."
"Too late, we were so energetic, it’s a bit, er, damp anyway. We'll have to use your bed to sleep in." She paused. Was she expecting too much? "Er…if we are sleeping together?" Darcy held her breath. The answer mattered so very much.
"You better believe it. I'm not letting you out of my sight now. Or my arms, bed…and anything else you can think of."
She liked the sound of that, and let her long held breath out in a noisy whoosh. "Good, but aren't you forgetting something?"
"Not a thing. We belong together." Gael rolled off her and stood up in one swift movement. "Don't stir an inch." He walked stiff legged into the bathroom, and she heard the tap running before the noise of water ceased and he returned with a damp sponge and a flannel.
The Racing Driver's Wife Page 4
