by Roz Lee
“Oh really?” Caro countered. “Well, that attitude lost you one ride this season already. It might cost you another.”
“No, it won't. You aren't going to fire me, Caro. Who would drive for you? Wilson? You and I both know you aren't going to prove your point to anyone with him behind the wheel, so let's get this straight right now. I drive. I don't listen to non-drivers who think they can tell me how to do my job, and that includes you. I brought home a trophy for Hawkins Racing today. So, I didn't get another notch carved into my helmet after the race, but you got what you wanted – another notch carved in the stick you're trying to ram up everyone's butt. So how about this? I won't screw Hawkins Racing,” his leer made his veiled meaning clear – “and you don't tell me how to drive? That way, we both get what we want.”
Dell stood and tossed his menu on the table. “I'll see you at the airport,” he said before stalking out of the restaurant leaving Caro stunned and alone.
She didn't know how long she sat, staring at the doorway, clutching the menu in a death grip, but when the waiter came to take her order, she dug some bills out of her purse and dropped them on the table. “I've changed my mind,” she said. “I'm not hungry after all.”
Dell was right about one thing. She wasn't going to fire him. She needed him. But that didn't give him license to drive like a maniac. Sure, she wanted him to win – that was the whole point of racing, of any competition, for that matter. But the way he was driving, she'd be lucky if he didn't drive Hawkins Racing right into bankruptcy. Today's purse would help, but the bottom line was, she couldn't afford for Dell to destroy many more cars, and still stay in business. The debts she inherited along with the race team were considerable.
As she gathered her things for the ride to the airport and their commuter flight to Las Vegas, she idly wondered if perhaps this had been her father's plan all along. He couldn't bear to sell the race team – it meant too much to him to do it while he was alive – but he hadn't wanted her to run it either. So maybe he left it in this sorry financial state in order to force her to sell. She did a quick estimate and decided if she sold right now, the assets – thanks to Dell's win today, would cover the debt with perhaps a little bit left over.
That was probably the smart thing to do, but it was also the one thing she wasn't going to do. She loved racing. Always had, and owning and running Hawkins Racing was her dream. Dell's win would keep her dream alive for another race or two, and if he won, or at least ran well in those, he would buy her more time. Somehow, she had to convince Dell to be more conservative on the track. The occasional win was nice, but consistently running in the top ten was good too.
They took the hotel shuttle to the airport in silence and cleared security before Caro decided it was time to address the other issue between them. Dell chose a seat in the waiting area facing the window with his back to the rest of the travelers. Caro ignored his cold shoulder as she joined him.
“Look, Dell. About what happened in the hauler…”
“It won't happen again,” he said, without looking up from his magazine.
“We were both caught up in the moment, the win, and then the argument about how you won. From now on, let's not discuss the race until at least the next day. How's that? Give us some time to cool off – so to speak.”
“Fine. Whatever you want. You're the boss.”
Caro settled back in her seat and stared straight ahead. “Okay, I get it. You're still pissed you aren't going to get any, and you're placating me when you have no plans to discuss any race – ever.”
“You're quick, I'll give you that,” he said as he leisurely turned a page.
Caro sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. “Look, Dell. You and I both know I'm not going to fire you. But I do own the team, and I will give you my opinion about your driving. This is important to me – making a success out of the team. It's more than the thing about being a woman in a man's world. It's about proving to myself that my dreams are attainable. All my life, my dad told me I couldn't have my dream – not in so many words, you know, but in the things he did, like sending me away to school to keep me out of the garage. He said he wanted more for me than to marry some grease monkey, or heaven forbid, a driver. It never occurred to him I could be a team owner or that I might be good at building engines. All he ever saw for me was being someone's little woman, and he wanted that someone to be a doctor or a lawyer or anything, as long as he would keep me away from the track.”
“Well, at least your dad believed what he was doing was in your best interest. I can't say the same for mine,” Dell said.
“What do you mean?”
Dell shrugged. “Caudell was afraid…”
“Afraid of what? Afraid you'd kill yourself on the track? Because that's sure what it looks like you're trying to do.”
Dell closed his magazine, using his index finger to hold his spot, and turned to her. “No, he was afraid I would be better than him, and he couldn't stand the thought of it. So you see, Caro. You and I are alike. We both have something to prove to our old men. So, you prove your point your way, and I'll prove my point my way.”
And once again, Dell left her sitting all alone with thoughts spinning around in her head faster than a car going full throttle at Talladega.
* * * *
Well, shit. Dell crammed his carry-on into the small overhead compartment. Caro Hawkins was going to be the death of him, despite her claim he was going to die on the track.
He settled into his seat, the one he'd requested in the back of the plane, as far away from hers as possible. Now that he'd touched her, tasted her, there was no turning back. His body yearned for hers like it never had for any other woman, but his brain – the big one – screamed for him to run as fast and as far away as possible. He pretended to read a magazine, but his mind was on Caro and his conflicting emotions where she was concerned. The physical reaction to her was simple enough – red-blooded male attracted to beautiful female. He didn't need to examine it too closely, but something about his reaction to her went beyond the usual. All he'd had was a sample, a tiny taste of Caro, and every cell in his body screamed for more. His gut clenched at the thought that maybe she was the one, the one he would never get enough of.
If that weren't enough to make a man run for the hills, nothing was. Dell glanced up the aisle and caught a glimpse of her sleeve peeking out from her seat in the front of the plane. Putting twenty rows of seats between them didn't constitute running, did it? No, running would be quitting the team. He could sit out the season. Hell, if he never raced again he'd live and eat well for the rest of his life on his old man's money. Dell turned his attention back to his long-forgotten magazine. Reality check. He wasn't going to give up racing. Like Caro, he had something to prove.
Which brought him to their airport conversation. What possessed him to tell her all that? He'd never told anyone about his strained relationship with his father. It wasn't much of a secret within the racing world, but most people were reluctant to mar the sterling reputation of his revered father. Fans still bought stuff with Caudell's name, number and likeness on it, as if his ghost were going to appear suddenly and win the fucking championship. No, they didn't want to hear about the real Caudell Wayne, Senior, the one Dell knew up close and personal. They'd never believe a man could say the things to his son Caudell had.
And to think how close he'd come close to telling Caro everything. Well, it wasn't going to happen. So, where did that leave them?
Sitting twenty rows apart on a plane with only twenty-three rows, and he didn't know about her, but it wasn't nearly enough distance to keep him from wanting her.
* * * *
“I want the car I drove last week,” he said. “I know you think this one is something special, but Caro, trust me, it won't win here. Maybe on a short track, but not here.”
“I designed this car myself, Dell. I know what it can do,” Caro argued. “I made some adjustments, so get your ass in the car and take it out again.”
/> Dell stared her down, but she refused to cower. She believed this car was the right one for this track and convincing her otherwise wasn't going to be easy.
“Unless you found a way to coax more RPM out of the engine, it's a waste of time, Caro. I'll take it out again, but it won't change the facts.”
“That's all I’m asking, Dell. Take it out one more time. If the engine isn't performing up to standards, we'll use the backup car again.”
“Whose standards are we talking about? Yours or mine?” he asked.
“Mine are the only ones that count,” she said, holding her ground. Dell felt, rather than heard, the snickers coming from the crew. Caro could cut a man off at the knees when she wanted to.
Dell climbed into the car, pausing with his ass balanced on the door. “Get the backup car out of the hauler, guys. I'll be back in a minute.” He dropped into the seat and buckled up. One more practice run to get Caro off his back, then he'd take the backup for a spin and show her what was what.
He had to give her credit. This car would be good on a short track where short bursts of speed were called for, but on a track like Vegas, or Phoenix, it couldn't sustain the level of power it needed to be competitive, much less win.
“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?” he spoke into his headset.
After a long pause, Caro came on. “Yes, I see. Damnit, Dell. That engine should be capable of more. I don't know what's wrong.”
“I'm sure you'll figure it out, Caro. Now, can I have the backup car?” he asked.
“Take her to the hauler, Dell. We've already got the backup unloaded.”
“Roger that. Comin' in,” he said.
He switched cars, made a few practice runs with the car he won with in Phoenix, and after making a few suggestions to the crew, he went in search of Caro. He knew he should stay away from her, but goddamned, that fire suit of hers turned him on. All he had to do was look at her in the damned thing, and his body ignited. Add her air of confidence, her I'm-in-charge-so-do-as-I-say attitude, and he was ready to go five hundred laps with her.
He found her in the lounge at the front of the hauler, but she wasn't alone. She'd taken off the fire suit and replaced it with jeans and a Hawkins Racing V-necked T-shirt that hugged her curves like a driver's dream car. She was bent over an open book on the laminated desk that took up two walls of the lounge, pointing out something to the engineers flanking her. Dell's libido shot into overdrive, and he had no doubt the other two men in the room suffered from the same condition.
An unfamiliar emotion mixed and mingled with his raging hormones, and he fought to keep it in check. No matter how much Caro wanted to make her mark in the racing world and be recognized for her abilities, there was no way to avoid being recognized in other ways too. She was all woman – and there wasn't a man on the circuit who wouldn't notice. For the first time, he realized how big a task she'd set for herself.
He stifled his urge to grab her and drag her someplace where they could be alone – someplace he could show her how satisfying it was to be a woman, but she seemed oblivious to the way she affected the men around her, and she probably wouldn't appreciate him going caveman on her.
Instead of acting on his urges, he asked, “Figure it out yet?”
Caro straightened, and in the unguarded moment when she turned to him, he caught a glimpse of something that resembled desire in her eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, and Caro, the team owner, spoke. “No, not yet. I have some ideas though. I was going over them with Frank and Terry. I don't know though, this engine may never be anything but a short track engine.”
“Would that be a such a bad thing? We need a new short track car anyway,” he said.
“Thanks to you, we do.”
So, she hadn't forgotten about the wreck at Martinsville, or forgiven him for it. Dell shrugged. “Shit happens.”
“Let's not go around the same old track again, Dell,” she said, turning to her engineers. “Unless you guys have any other ideas, why don't you go make the new adjustment? After the official practice runs are over, we can take her back out for another run.”
Dell moved away from the door as the other men filed out of the lounge, leaving him alone with Caro. Memories of them alone together the day before swamped him. That's all it had been, one day? Jesus, it seemed like forever since he'd touched her. He glanced her way and saw recognition in her eyes. She could deny it 'til the cows came home, but her eyes didn't lie. Desire burned in her gaze. He closed the distance between them, forcing her to look up at him.
“Caro,” he said.
“Dell.” She didn't move away, but she didn't move any closer either.
“Are you going to stop me?” he asked. His heart lodged in his throat as he waited for her answer. If she didn't want him to touch her, he wouldn't, but damn, he didn't understand how she could deny what was so obviously between them.
“We shouldn't,” she said on a whisper.
“Who's to know, Caro?” He traced her jaw with his index finger and she trembled from just that tiny contact.
“We would,” she said, but she still made no move away from his touch. He slipped his hand to her neck, letting his fingers curve around to her nape, and still, she didn't move away.
He dipped his head so his lips hovered over hers. “I won't tell.” Then he kissed her. Her lips were soft under his, warm and damp from where her tongue touched them a breath ago. He brought his other hand up to cradle her face as he drank her in. God, she tasted sweet.
He needed more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She needed more. Even as she inwardly called herself all manner of names, she craved more. His thumbs pressed against her jaw, urging her to open for him. She groaned, pressed herself against him and let him in. He thrust his tongue past her lips and plundered. Her head spun as he took her on a wild ride that left her body achingly unsatisfied.
Caro silently begged for more, wrapping her arms around his neck and answering his kiss with all the passion coiled inside her. When his hand drifted to her waist, a desperation she'd never experienced took hold of her. She covered his hand with hers and guided his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. Their fingers tangled. His hand followed the zipper as it slid down and down, until he found her aching nub.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage and liquid heat pooled between her legs. She broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Still cradling the back of her head, Dell pressed her cheek against his chest and continued to explore between her legs. A single warning thought flashed, and like dry tinder, was devoured by the fire in her belly.
Dell's fingers dipped lower and she shifted to give him the room he needed. One finger slipped inside her, followed by another. The flames licked higher, threatening to consume her. A sound, a whimper, escaped her lips. Strong fingers stroked her head, soothing, calming. His words rumbled like a distant storm beneath the layers of his fire suit.
“Shh, sweetheart. Let go, Caro. I've got you.”
He was dangerous, on and off the track. He drove like a demon with little regard to his or anyone else's safety, but in his arms, she was safe. Dell would always keep her safe.
Her legs became quivering, useless columns of gel, her only support the strong hand between her legs. Caro concentrated on the two pillars of steel impaling her, stroking some invisible spot that made her weak and energized her at the same time. Passion coiled tightly. Dell's voice vibrated against her cheek, her breasts, “Let go, sweetheart. I've got you.”
The tight spring within gave way, and she came apart in his arms. Inner muscles clenched around his fingers and her vocal chords failed to form coherent sounds. Her body was a mess of discordant muscles and useless bones. She clung to him, her arms still draped over his shoulders. Time stood still. He slipped his fingers from her body, his hand from her jeans, and with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes, he backed her to a chair and urged her to sit. Her arms fell to her sides and she reached for him, but he backed away.
He was at the door before she found her voice.
“You're leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah, I am,” he said. “Before we turn rumor into fact.”
Caro shivered as the blast of warm dry air from outside mingled with the cooler air inside against her bare skin. She jumped up, wobbling on shaky legs and zipped her jeans. “Damn you, Dell Wayne,” she murmured to the closed door. “Damn you all to hell.”
* * * *
Dell fired the engine and listened to the familiar rumble. The caged power vibrated through him as he checked the gauges and waited for the race to begin. The thrill of competition sped through his system. He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand, the gearshift with his right, and tried to focus on the job at hand. He'd never been as distracted before a race as he was today. He'd never lain awake all night, remembering the feel of Caro Hawkins in his arms, or the taste of her lips, or the way her hot, wet heat clamped his fingers, or her face when she came. And the throaty whimper that accompanied her release.
Thankfully, he came to his senses before he let it go any further. It would have been so easy to take her. She wouldn't have said no, not the way she responded to him. But like she said, they had a business arrangement, and sex didn't figure into it.
He had to admire her. She was taking on a business that defined sexist. Sure, there were a few women in the business – a couple of drivers, some techs, and at least one mechanic he knew of. But the only female team owner was the wife of a driver, and she was only a partner in the business. No doubt, her husband's status helped her, where Caro was on her own. It took guts to do what she was doing.
But, damn, the woman was addictive. After their first kiss, he'd sworn he wouldn't touch her again. His resolve disappeared faster than rain in the desert, leaving him with an unquenchable thirst for Caro. The road she'd chosen was treacherous enough without him adding truth to the rumors flying around the circuit.
“We're good to go,” Russell informed him.
