DRIVEN
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 12
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Driven
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Lucky 13
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2017 by Flora Ferrari.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
Book 1: Baby Lust
Book 2: Veteran
Book 3: Built
Book 4: Bambino
Book 5: Rescued
Book 6: Leader
Book 7: Professor
Book 8: Burned
Book 9: Worldly
Book 10: Pistol
Book 11: Policed
Book 12: Driven
Book 13: Lucky 13
DRIVEN
No one believed in me when my dad got me the job of my dreams. They said I was too young. They said I was inexperienced. They said I couldn’t do it, because I was a girl.
Except him.
He’s my dad’s best friend, a legendary race car driver who’s the hottest, and fastest, thing on four wheels. He’s won in places like Daytona, Indianapolis, and Monaco. He’s racing’s ultimate golden boy…and ultimate playboy.
And he's my boss, and the only man I’ve ever wanted.
As my so called colleagues try and leave me in the dust, he does everything he can to give me a lift, showing me life is about discovering the strength I didn’t even know I possessed…how to win while staying true to my roots, and myself.
The tabloids say there are no race tracks, or women, whose curves he can’t expertly navigate. And while everyone else is waiving the white flag all I can think about is waving the checkered flag…as he speeds through the finish line and wins the ultimate prize. My trust. My partnership. My heart.
*Driven is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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PROLOGUE
Erica
Fifteen years earlier
S weetheart, there are some dolls available over on the other side of the room if you’d like to play with one of them instead.”
I look up at the teacher, and force a smile. “Thank you, Miss Jackson,” I say. I return my gaze forward and run the red Hot Wheels across the carpet, imagining the real thing. The power, the speed, the way it hugs tight corners.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn towards it. “I can bring one over here if you like.”
“No thank you, Miss Jackson,” I say, returning to the world I’ve created on the carpet in front of me.
I feel Miss Jackson bending down next to me. “Honey, it’s not really appropriate for you to be playing with the boys’ toys.”
Why won’t she get the hint?
“I’m sorry, Miss Jackson. I thought they were for everyone.”
“Well…um…they are, but wouldn’t you rather play with a Barbie? Maybe play house with the other girls?”
“No Miss Jackson. I need to practice.”
I resume what I was doing, but out of the corner of my eye I see my teacher is both troubled and confused at the same time. Her mouth goes flat and she squints at me with pain in her eyes.
“What are you practicing for?”
“I’m going to work with race cars when I grow up.”
Her head drops as her index finger meets her brow.
I barely notice. I’m focused on my own world, and that’s automobile racing.
“Vroom, vroom,” I say as I line two cars up along a tiny seam in the carpet. It’s the start line. The fastest of the two to circle me wins. I’m pulling for the red car, but there’s no cheating. I turn my head and roll the cars around on the ground, shuffling them in effect, before grasping one in each hand. I race them around my body without looking.
As they approach the finish line the car on the outside spins out into the wall and the car on the inside track wins.
“What happened to the car on the outside?” Miss Jackson begrudgingly plays along.
“Hit a wet spot and spun out into the wall.”
“A wet spot?”
“Yeah, it’s going to rain soon.”
“Honey, the skies are as blue as can be.”
“Right now, but a storm is coming.”
“Why do you think a storm is coming?”
“I fell out of a tree last summer and broke my ankle. Ever since I can tell when it’s going to rain.”
Miss Jackson stood and shook her head. “They don’t pay me enough,” she mumbled as she walked away.
I shuffled the cars again and lined up for the next race, excited to be left alone in my imaginary world of automobile racing.
CHAPTER 1
Gage
O h, Gage, I don’t want this night to end.”
“Who said anything about it ending?”
A mischievous smile quickly overtook her lips.
“But the casino is closing in fifteen minutes. They’re not taking any more bets.”
“We’ll be back another day, to play some more.” I looked down at my chips. Over half a million euros were neatly stacked in front of me.
“Would you like to cash out, sir?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
The man nodded and took my chips.
“Maybe we have time to grab a drink at Jimmy Z’s?”
“I have a better idea,” I said. “I have a boat in the harbor with a few bottles of champagne.”
“Ohhh,” she said.
“We’ve made out the check exactly as last time, sir,” Henry, the floor manager of the Casino de Monte-Carlo said.
“Thank you, Henry. I hope to see you again this weekend.”
“As do we, sir. Best of luck with the race.”
“Thank you.” I shook Henry’s hand as I offered my arm to my companion for the evening. I hadn’t expected to see Giulia Bianchi
this evening, but was glad I had. I’d always admired her work on the big screen and was looking forward to seeing just how much her passion carried over into the bedroom.
I knew better than to ask Henry for a backdoor exit from the casino. Any other time of the year and my friend of over fifteen years would be happy to oblige, but not this weekend. This was race weekend. The Monaco Grand Prix was this Sunday and all the celebrities were in town. Just a few days earlier the Cannes Film Festival had wrapped up and now the entire world, except the United States, turned its eyes on us.
While the Americans celebrated Memorial Day, barbecuing and the Indianapolis 500, Europe and the rest of the world turned its attention to Monaco, Ibiza holidays, and the Greek Isles. Summer had arrived, and the Casino de Monte-Carlo was sure to be packed over the course of the coming months, but this weekend was all about show. The bevy of celebrities would make grand entrances and exits out of the front of the casino ensuring tons of free press which would have the general public playing everything from baccarat to slots minutes after arriving from Nice and Ventimiglia, all summer long.
I braced myself as we stepped through the front doors of the casino. I was instantly blinded by the paparazzi’s flashes. Even at four in the morning they were out in droves.
“Mr. Hazard, can you still be competitive at this year’s race?” I heard a voice say.
I ignored the comment as much as I could, and slowly escorted Miss Bianchi, in her six-inch heels, down the front steps.
It was a question I was getting asked more and more each day. At thirty-seven and without a win last season the naysayers were out in full force. I had switched over to NASCAR a few years earlier, but was now back to Formula One. The critics called it a desperate move from a man desperate for a win. I disagreed. I had raced my entire life and after winning every race Formula One had to offer I wanted a new challenge, a challenge which I certainly found in NASCAR.
But now I was back in the opulent world of Formula One. A world of high society, private jets, and more money than I ever dreamed possible. The oil sheiks had expanded from buying European football teams and were now throwing money into our sport. The sums were incredible. I myself had secured a seventy-five million contract for this season, but still didn’t have a top three finish to show for it. The season was still young, but my sponsors were growing restless.
Just as our driver pulled around I heard a familiar voice.
“Gage.”
I turned to my left and saw my crew chief. What in the world was he doing here, especially at this hour?
“Good morning, Dave,” I said.
“Gage, I’m sorry to trouble you, especially at this hour, but we’ve got a situation with the team.”
“What kind of situation?” I said, trying not to move my lips too much in order not to provide the TV cameras just a few feet from us plenty of ammo for this morning’s race news report.
“John’s wife went into labor a week early. He took an emergency flight home.”
“Is everything okay?” John had been with my team since the season started. He was new, but we’d gotten along so well. I definitely didn’t want to hear any bad news about such a nice man.
“Perfect. The delivery went well and he’s a proud papa now.”
“That’s great news,” I said.
“That is great news, but now we have a hole in the team for this weekend.”
“Isn’t there anyone in town we can add for just this one race?”
“Not anyone we…I mean you’re…currently that familiar with.”
“I’m not following you,” I said, reminding myself to smile for the cameras.
“Everyone else is committed…under contract.”
“Can we fly someone in? We’ve got the planes.”
“No time or people. Half of the world’s assigned to us and the other half is at the Indianapolis 500.”
“But we can’t run a race a man down? We’ll get creamed.”
Dave breathed out hard. His eyes narrowed and his mouth raised, giving away that he had an idea, but one I might not go for.
“I’ve got someone in mind,” he said.
“Great. Let’s get him in then. Can he be here in time for the morning meeting?”
“The morning meeting isn’t a problem,” he said.
I could see he was holding something back, but with all the cameras this was something I’d have to deal with later.
“Okay then, it’s settled. I’ll meet him in the morning.”
Our car arrived and the valet quickly opened the door for Miss Bianchi.
I nodded to the crowd and prepared to follow her inside, already imagining what I’d be doing to her in no more than fifteen minutes.
“Sir,” Dave called out.
I turned to meet his gaze.
“You can’t meet him in the morning.”
“Why might that be?”
“Because it’s not a him. It’s a woman.”
CHAPTER 2
Erica
I sat at the small table out front of the pastry shop, slowly tearing off bites of my croissant. I chewed each bite for an eternity, nervous of how my dad’s meeting with Gage would go.
I hadn’t been able to secure a spot on an crew for the race back in Indianapolis so I’d decided I’d join my dad in Monaco for the weekend. I’d found a discounted seat last minute and would be able to sleep in my dad’s room to save money. I was excited to finally see the Monaco Grand Prix live, and I didn’t care that all I could afford was one of the hillside tickets. I had my binoculars and plenty of enthusiasm. I was ready for this weekend.
What I wasn’t exactly ready for was my dad sitting me down a couple hours ago for the “most important opportunity of my life.” Way to not add pressure, dad. He had been making phone calls for hours after learning his left tire gunner had to fly home for the weekend. He needed a replacement stat, but the more calls he made, the more apparent it became that there was literally no-one available on such short notice.
Every man in the pit crew had a very specific function. A function which required world class speed, precision, and accuracy. The best pit stops were performed in just under two seconds. Exactly twenty men working in unison to get a car in and out and back on the track, and two seconds was the goal. Technically the goal was more like one point eight seconds, but any way you sliced it it required an immense team effort to pull it off.
And my dad was going to try and pull it off this weekend with me as the left tire gunner, at least that was his plan. As the crew chief to infamous Gage Hazard this season it was my dad’s job to solve problems, and over the years he’d had plenty of them with Gage.
They took the racing world by storm when they were in their early twenties. Late nights, women, and drinking seemed to be the norm for them…until my dad had me. Suddenly bottles of whiskey were traded for bottles of baby formula. While Gage was on victory lane of the Indy 500 drinking the customary bottle of milk that’s reserved for the winner, my dad was feeding me milk at home in my crib.
Two years later my dad was back with Gage, but it was different. They weren’t racing’s bad boys anymore, just racing’s bad boy. I knew my dad loved me and wouldn’t have traded what happened for anything in the world, but sometimes I wondered how his life would have turned out if he wouldn’t have gotten my mom pregnant.
When I was younger I also wondered if my dad even knew he had a daughter, and not a son. I spent most of my early years running around a racetrack. Once I was old enough to go to school, my mom insisted I live a more settled life and I spent my days back in small town U.S.A., away from the world I had started to grow accustomed to and love.
This weekend was a chance for me to reconnect with that life. My dad had been grooming me the last few years to join him on the track. We developed a strict eating regimen and workout schedule. I did squats until I couldn’t stand up and hammer curls until my forearms couldn’t even lift a pencil. It was all part of the plan, a plan that might ultimat
ely land me a spot on a driver’s pit crew. It was a long shot, but with my dad’s position in the industry it was one I could realistically dream of, if I worked my butt off.
And work my butt off I did, but little did I know that all that work might get put to use so soon. I figured at best I’d have to toil in the junior circuits, working my way up through the ranks waiting for the men on the teams to retire or pursue other interests. Most were either former athletes or military. Some were still pursuing their dreams on places like the football field. My dream had always been the race track, and I was as close as I had ever come to seeing the first step of that dream fulfilled.
Driven: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants #12) Page 1
