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It didn’t surprise Neil that he was the underdog. Who would have expected the new guy on the scene to take the race?
“Mr. Diaz wants you to come back tomorrow night. A lot of egos kicking up on the sidelines. People want to kick your ass.”
Neil laughed, enjoying the fact that he was enemy number one.
“Same price?”
The goon nodded.
“I’ll be here.”
Before he rode off, he looked for Carson in the crowd but she was gone. That kiss had been everything he’d imagined and more. Between the adrenaline coursing through his veins from his win and the sexy way she gave in to his kiss, he was painfully hard.
Carson Kelly. At a street race in the middle of the night. It just didn’t make sense. And how had she known where to find him? There was more to this daddy’s girl than he originally thought.
Maybe she knew what it was like to want to take that walk on the dark side. He shook his head, no way. She’d probably gone through a “slumming it” phase, like some rich girls do, and stumbled upon this scene. She didn’t—couldn’t— know about real loss. Hell, the only thing she’d probably lost was her virginity.
Neil tapped the gearshift once more, taking the bike to well over the speed limit.
What would happen when she showed up to the site tomorrow morning? Would they fall right back into their usual back and forth arguments? Neil demanding. Carson stubborn. If he didn’t know better or dislike her so much he would consider their arguing a form of foreplay. He smiled at the thought.
Or would their next meeting just be supremely awkward? But he now knew her secret. He was positive daddy didn’t know his sweet little girl associated with people like Hector Diaz.
Unfortunately, she knew one of his.
Given his family connections, the tabloids would have a field day if his newfound extracurricular activity got out. He had too much on the line right now to risk a scandal in the media. His new restaurant was practically complete and the new Madewood Foundation his brother Jack formed last year was knee deep in fundraising initiatives. Not to mention, he couldn’t risk his family finding out about his need for danger.
That would end in a family confrontation that he wasn’t up for.
Carson Kelly could not reveal his secret. And he’d do whatever it took to keep her quiet.
Chapter Two
Carson studied the drawings, unable to take in any of the information staring back at her.
Only a few more days until this project was done. It had taken thirteen months, but it was finally complete. The construction of the Madewood Farm was her most elaborate—and most difficult—design of her career. This was going to be the one to secure her the title of Lead Architect for Kelly Designs. Her father was retiring and who better to take over than his own flesh and blood?
Not that he shared Carson’s point of view on that issue.
She placed her crayon on the table and shifted in her seat, staring out the panoramic window, in awe of the structure she had designed. On this ten-acre property, she had constructed a state-of-the-art fine dining restaurant that overlooked a pond with an actual working water wheel. Beside it, a rustic structure had been renovated and enlarged to become the gourmet foods store and bakery.
At the top of the property was a barn that she’d gutted and restored, turning it into an event space. The rest of the land had been landscaped and ploughed to accommodate a picnic area, while also making the berry and apple orchards accessible for seasonal picking.
But for the first time in a long time, work was not the topic in control of her brain.
She couldn’t get the image of Neil Harrison out of her mind.
Stupid, infuriating man. Stubborn, obnoxious…hot-bodied and sexy.
She grabbed the sides of her white hard hat, required gear on active construction sites, and shook off her thoughts. She couldn’t even be angry at him without thinking about how hot he was and he’d taken that hotness to the next level last night, idling at that start line. A vision in leather and dark jeans. She’d never seen him in anything but a suit, which made the mysterious black ink that peeked out the collar of his shirts out of place. But for the first time, that tattoo made perfect sense. Knowing what she did about his extra-curricular activities, that ink now fit with his character.
When he had won, she barely stopped herself from jumping up and shouting. Never more than last night had she wanted to throw herself at Neil and drag him off to a secluded area.
She sighed, thinking about Neil’s kiss. Her body vibrated with the memory.
She’d suspected his interest in racing for some time but it wasn’t until yesterday her fears were confirmed. She couldn’t sit on the sidelines once she realized Neil was actually going to compete. She should have just left it alone. What Neil Harrison did with his own time, whether he was endangering himself or not, was not her concern.
Carson couldn’t lie. She was just as interested in the Madewood family as the rest of the female population. Vivian Madewood had been a staple socialite and a class act. By default, Neil, and the three other boys she had rescued from foster care—Finn O’Reilly, Cole Murphy, and Jack Vaughn—became famous. Even more so when Neil’s youngest brother Jack came of age and took to the party scene, making their family name infamous.
