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She fought to regain her own professionalism, to put aside the hurt splintering her insides. ‘As your physiotherapist, I’ll have to recommend that you don’t race.’
‘Your recommendation is duly noted. Is that all?’
Her fists clenched in futile anger. Anger she wanted to let loose but couldn’t. Her days of lashing out were far, far behind her. ‘No, that’s not all! This is crazy. You’re risking your health, not to mention your life, Rafael.’
His smile was tight and tension-filled. ‘And you are running the risk of overstepping, querida. I won’t be tacky enough to point out just what your role is in my life considering the lines have been blurred somewhat, but I expect you to recognise the proper time and place for voicing disagreement.’
The blunt words hit her like a slap in the face. Regret momentarily tightened his face, then it smoothed once again into the outward mask of almost bored indifference.
It took every ounce of self-control to contain her composure. ‘No, you’re right. Pardon me for thinking of your health first.’ She indicated the frenzy outside, the racetrack and the baking heat under which the cars gleamed. ‘Off you go, then. And good luck.’
He reached forward and grabbed her arm when she’d have turned away.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’
‘What?’ She made herself look into his eyes, determined not to be cowed by the storm of fear rolling through her gut. He returned her look with one that momentarily confused her. Had her thoughts been clearer, Raven would’ve sworn Rafael was scared out of his wits.
‘As my physio, you need to come with me, attend to my needs until I’m in the cockpit. Have you forgotten your role already?’
She had. Whether intentionally or through mental blockage, she’d tried to put her role eight months ago as Rafael’s race physio out of her mind. Because every time she thought of it, she remembered their last row. Her rash, heated words; the stunned look on his face as he’d absorbed her bone-stripping insults before he’d walked out to his car. They’d been in a situation like this, momentarily alone in a place that buzzed with suppressed energy. His race suit had been open and around his neck she’d spied his customary chain with the cross on it. The cross he kissed before each race.
In the months since, she’d remembered vividly that Rafael hadn’t kissed his cross that day...
Now, Raven was in favour of forgetting all about it. All she wanted to do right now was find a dark corner, stay there and not come out until the blasted race was over. Watching his crash that day had been one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of her life. She would give anything not to be put in that position again.
But she had a job to do. Sucking a sustaining breath, she nodded. ‘Of course, whatever you need.’ Pulling herself from his grasp, she walked towards the bar and picked up two bottles of mineral water. She handed him one. ‘We’re a little late off the mark in trying to hydrate you sufficiently so I’d suggest you get as much liquid in as possible.’
He took the bottle from her but made no move to drink the water.
‘You think I’m making the wrong decision.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘What I think is no longer relevant, remember?’ Her gaze dropped meaningfully to the bottle.
He uncapped it and drank without taking his gaze off her face. She felt the heavy force of his stare but studiously avoided eye contact. When he finished and tossed the empty bottle aside, she handed him the second bottle.
‘Drink this one in about ten minutes.’ She started to walk towards the door, eager to get away from the clamouring need to throw herself in his path, to stop him putting himself in any danger.
Too late, she realised the media had camped outside the door, eager to jump on the latest news of Rafael’s return.
Is this the start of your comeback?
Are you sure you can take the pressure?
Which team will you be driving for when the X1 season starts next month?
Rafael fielded their questions without breaking a sweat, all the while keeping a firm hold on her elbow. Every time she tried to free herself, he held on tighter.
Raven spotted the keen reporter from the corner of her eye.
Is there a new woman in your life?
Without the barest hint of affront, he smiled. ‘If I told you that you’d stop hounding me, then my life would no longer be worth living, would it?’
The paparazzi, normally a vicious thrill-seeking lot, actually laughed. Raven marvelled at the spectacle. Then berated herself for failing to realise the obvious. Sooner or later, everyone, man, woman or child, fell under Rafael’s uniquely enthralling spell.
