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His smile made a mockery of her words as he strolled towards her. ‘That’s not true. You can’t keep your eyes off me. Just like I can’t take mine off you.’
‘Marco...’
He cupped her jaw and lifted her face to his. Her heart stuttered, then thundered. ‘You made your promise out of guilt—’
‘No, I want to win the Championship.’
‘Sometimes the best deal is to walk away.’
‘I don’t intend to. So don’t stand in my way.’
He brought his mouth within a whisper of hers. Sasha swayed towards him, her willpower depleting rapidly.
‘Determination is a quality I admire, querida. But remember I won’t tolerate anything that stands in the way of my desires.’
Tugging her firmly into his arms, he proceeded to make her forget everything but him. Including the fact that he’d never believed her father’s innocence.
* * *
Marco attended the next two races, flying back each time from Spain, where Rafael was still in a coma. When she won in Japan he took the whole team to celebrate, after which he took Sasha to his penthouse for a private celebration of their own.
After a tricky, hair-raising start, Korea secured her yet another victory. But one look at Marco’s taut expression when she emerged from the press conference told her there would be no team celebrations this time.
‘Marco?’
‘We’re leaving. Now.’
He whisked her away from the Yeongam Circuit in his helicopter, his possessive fingers tense around hers all through the flight to a stunning beach house on the outskirts of Seoul City, where he proceeded to strip off her race suit and her underclothes.
‘You know that by dragging me away like that in front of the team you’ve blown this thing between us wide open, don’t you?’ she asked, in the aftermath of another pulse-melting session in his bed.
His lovemaking had been especially intense, with an edge that had bordered on the frenzied. And, as much as she’d loved it, he’d left her struggling for breath, in danger of being swept away by the force of his passion.
He brushed a damp curl from her cheek and studied her face. ‘Does it bother you?’
She gave the matter brief thought. ‘There was speculation even before we were together. Paddock gossip can make the tabloid press look like amateurs.’
He pulled back slightly, his earlier tension returning. ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘They knew I was a good driver before I started sleeping with you. They just didn’t want to acknowledge it because of who I am. I only care about what they think of me as a driver. What they think of me personally doesn’t matter. It never has.’
‘You’re a fighter,’ he said, his expression reflective.
‘I’ve had to fight for what I’ve achieved.’ She cast him a droll look. ‘As you well know.’
When he didn’t smile back, a cloud appeared on the horizon of her happy haze. ‘It bothers you that I don’t care what other people think about me?’
‘Single-mindedness has its place.’
‘I smell a but in there somewhere.’
His gaze because suspiciously neutral. ‘Following a single dream is risky. When it’s taken from you you’ll have nothing.’
‘When? Not if? Are you trying to tell me something?’
‘Nothing lasts for ever.’
‘You must be jet-lagged again, because you’ve gone all cryptic on me. I’m three races away from securing the Constructors’ Championship for you. Unless I don’t finish another single race, and our nearest rival wins every one, it’s pretty much a done deal.’
He got out of bed and pulled on his boxer shorts. For a man who embraced nudity the way Marco did, the definitive action sent a shiver of unease down her spine.
‘Done deals have a way of coming undone.’
Her anxiety escalated. ‘Enough with the paradoxes. What’s going on, Marco?’
Marco strode to the champagne chilling in a monogrammed silver bucket, filled up a glass and brought it back to her. Returning to the cabinet, he poured a whisky for himself and downed it in one go.
He slammed the glass down and spun towards her. ‘Madre di Dios, you nearly crashed today!’
Her fingers tightened around the delicate stem of her glass as the full force of his smouldering temper hit her. Her car had stalled at the start of the race, leaving her struggling to retain pole position. Her rivals hadn’t hesitated in trying to take advantage of the situation. She’d touched tyres with a couple of cars and nearly lost a front wing.
‘I found myself in a slightly hairy situation. I dealt with it.’ She glanced at him. ‘Were you worried?’
