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‘That my lover would end up in a mangled heap of metal just like my brother did mere weeks ago? What do you think?’ he ground out.
She trembled at the harshness in his tone even while a secret part of her thrilled that he’d been worried about her. ‘I know what I’m doing, Marco. I’ve been doing it almost all my life.’
He speared a hand into her hair, tilting her face up to his. ‘Rafael knew what he was doing too. Look where he ended up. You can’t do it for ever. You do realise that, don’t you?’
The question threw her, for Sasha had been deliberately avoiding any thoughts of the future. Even the end of the racing season didn’t bear thinking about. If by some sheer stroke of bad luck she lost the Constructors’ Championship then she was out of a job.
If she won her professional future would be secured for another year. But what about her personal future?
The reality was that she’d fallen into Marco’s bed expecting little more than a one-night stand. But with each day that passed she was being consumed by the magic she experienced there. With no thought to the future...
‘Yes,’ she finally whispered. ‘I realise nothing lasts for ever.’
‘Bueno,’ he breathed, as if her answer had satisfied him.
He shucked his boxers in one smooth move. ‘Are you going to drink that? Only, after watching you nearly crash, I feel an urgent need to re-affirm life with you again. Repeatedly.’
She passed him the glass and opened her arms.
It wasn’t until their breaths were gasping out in the aftermath of soul-shattering orgasms that she tensed in disbelief.
‘Marco!’
‘What?’ He raised his head, a swathe of hair falling seductively over one eye.
‘We didn’t... We forgot...’ Frantically she calculated dates.
He let loose a single epithet. ‘Dios. Please tell me you’re on the Pill?’ he rasped.
His voice was a choked sound that chilled her.
Reassured with the dates, she nodded, then noticed his pallor. ‘Hey, it’s okay. Even if the Pill doesn’t work it’s the wrong time of the month.’
‘Are you sure?’ he demanded.
Frowning, Sasha laid a hand on his cheek, which had grown cold and clammy. ‘I’m sure. Relax.’
* * *
Marco eased away from Sasha, steeling himself against her throaty protest as he left the bed. Pulling on a robe, he went into his study. His laptop was set up on his desk, his folders neatly arranged by his assistant. He bypassed it, threw himself into the leather sofa and scrubbed a hand down his face.
He hadn’t meant to lose it with Sasha like that earlier.
But seeing her come within a whisker of crashing had set him on a knife-edge of fear and rage he hadn’t been able to completely dismiss. Now his loss of control had made him forget his one cardinal rule—contraception. Always.
He hadn’t slipped once in ten years. Until tonight. Thank goodness Sasha was as against accidentally conceiving a child as he was...
Grimly reining in the control that seemed to be slipping from him, he strode to his desk and picked up the top folder. A sliver of guilt rose inside him but he quashed it.
Enough. He’d done what needed to be done. He refused to feel guilty for protecting what was important to him. Nothing mattered except keeping his family safe.
He picked up the phone and called his brother’s doctors. Once he’d been updated on Rafael’s condition, he placed another call.
Fifteen minutes later he slammed down the lid of his laptop and pushed away from the desk, at peace with his decision.
Feeling a sense of rightness, he returned to the bedroom and slid into bed, his need for Sasha overcoming the wish to let her rest. With a soft murmur she wound her supple body around his. The sense of rightness increased, making his head spin.
‘I missed you. Where have you been?’
Another wave of guilt hit him—harder than before. Inhaling the seductive scent of her, he pushed away the disturbing feeling. ‘I needed to take care of something.’ Bending his head, he placed his lips against the smooth skin of her neck. His body stirred, transmitting its persistent message.
‘Um. And have you?’ she murmured.
‘Sí.’ His voice emerged gruffer than he wished. ‘It’s all taken care of.’
CHAPTER TEN
SASHA WATCHED MARCO turn the page of his newspaper, a frown creasing his brow before it smoothed out again. Watching him had become something of a not-so-secret pleasure in the last few weeks. On cue, she experienced the slow drag of desire in her belly as her gaze drifted over the sensual curve of his lips, the unshaven rasp of his jaw and the strong column of his throat to the muscled bare torso which she’d caressed to her heart’s content last night and this morning.
