“Among other things,” another guy cried.
That was followed by laughter and some lascivious gestures.
“I don’t care anymore,” she muttered in a voice barely above a whisper. “I just want this over.”
She stepped forward, but his arm flew out, stopping her.
“No!” Rocco growled, glaring at the man.
His arm accidentally brushed up against her breasts. He heard the flow of her breath suddenly halt and he hastily lowered it.
He clenched his teeth and glowered at the man. “You. Are. Not. Getting. Up. On. That. Hood.” He sighed. “I am.”
He turned and jumped up on the car.
The crowd went wild hooting and hollering.
“Okay, Rocco,” the photographer cried, “lie across the hood on your side, looking this way.”
He did so, propping his head up on his elbow.
He felt like a fool and was fairly certain he looked like one.
“Tilt your head more,” Dario shouted. “and thrust out your hip.”
“Lick your lips,” Celeste cried, “and give that come-hither look.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Rocco yelled back. “Let’s get this over with already,” he said testily.
“Nico,” the photographer shouted. “Stand in front of him, just don’t block his face. Yes, that’s perfect. Now just lean against the car.”
“Sorry,” he said in a low voice. “When I put my arm out like that, I didn’t mean to, um—”
“Get handsy?”
She didn’t turn around, so he couldn’t see her face when she spoke.
“Yeah,” he said. “That.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding a little lighter. “Given you clearly suck at it.”
A laugh escaped his lips despite himself.
She glanced over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Why this hit him in the way it did, he couldn’t say. But it compelled him to do something he hadn’t planned—something that surprised him every bit as much as it probably did her.
When she looked over her shoulder, a lone strand of hair fell in front of her eye, but before she could do anything about it, he took it between his fingers and slipped it behind her ear.
She turned back to face the camera so quickly he couldn’t see the look on her face. But even if he had seen it, he probably wouldn’t know how to read it. And if he’d been able to see the look on his own face? He probably wouldn’t know how to read that either.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NICO AND ROCCO
It was preseason testing, and Nico stood in the paddock watching the cars whiz by, knowing any second Rocco would be speeding past. She could hear the race engineer on the radio talking to him. She shielded her eyes from the sun. Even with her dark shades, the bright glare made her blink. It was warmer than when she’d been in the car this morning but not that much. It was still cool enough to make for a fast track.
