His Ultimate Prize(20)

She forced herself to look away before the fierce flames rising could  totally engulf her. He grabbed the towel she tossed to him and rubbed it  lazily over his body.

'Well, since you had the full therapy session last night, I don't see the harm in reversing the regime.'

He glanced over and winked. 'My thoughts exactly.'

Suspicion skittered along her spine. 'You're surprisingly chipper this  morning.' Looking closer, she saw that his face had lost its strained  edge, and when he turned to toss the towel aside, his movement had lost  last night's stiffness.

'It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do. I feel as if I have a  new lease of life.' He picked up his walking stick and came towards her,  a sexy, melt-your-panties-off grin firmly in place. 'Come, we'll have  breakfast and I can tell you how to make your tardiness up to me.'

'Anything less than a pound of flesh and I'll probably die of shock,' she muttered.

He laughed. The sound floated along her skin then sank in with  pleasure-giving intensity. 'You wound me. I was thinking more along the  lines of your thoughts on the manuscript.'

She didn't answer immediately. She was too caught up in watching the  ripple of muscle as he sauntered out of the pool area-and through his  bedroom, where discarded clothes and twisted sheets made her temperature  rise higher-towards the sun-dappled balcony where their breakfast had  been laid out.

Goodness knew how she managed not to stare like some hormonal schoolgirl.

'Wow, should I take your silence to mean it was sheer dross?'

Focus! She sat down at the table, snapped out her napkin and laid it  over her lap, wishing she could throw a blanket over her erotic thoughts  just as easily.

He poured her coffee-mocha latte-and added a dash of cinnamon, just the  way she liked it. Raven decided she was not going to read anything into  Rafael's intimate knowledge of how she took her caffeine. But inside she  felt a long held-in tightness spring free, accompanied by the faintest  spark of fear.

'It wasn't dross. I'm sure you know that. I love Ana's transition from  girl into woman. And that first meeting with Carlos was what every girl  dreams of. I'm happy she's putting her dark past behind her...'

'But?' He scythed through her ambivalence.

'But I think Carlos is coming on too strong, too fast. He risks overwhelming Ana just a little bit.'

He picked up his own coffee and eyed her over the rim. 'But I think she  has a backbone of steel. Do you not think she has what it takes to  stay?'

Raven nodded. 'I think she does. She sees him as a challenge...welcomes  it to some extent, but I'm still a little scared for her.'

'You're invested in her. Which is what a writer wants, isn't it? Maybe  she needs to be pushed out of her comfort zone to see what she really  wants.'

'I notice she likes racing, just like Carlos.'

He stilled. 'Sí. It is a racing thriller, after all.'

Raven carefully set her cup down and picked up a slice of toast. 'She  wouldn't, by chance, be modelled on your sister-in-law, would she?' she  asked, keeping her voice level.

He shrugged. 'Sasha is one of the best female drivers I've known. What's your point?'

She didn't know how to articulate what it made her feel. Hell, she  couldn't grasp the roiling feelings herself. All she knew was that she  didn't want Rafael to be thinking of a specific woman when he wrote the  story.

'I just think you would appeal to a wider audience if the character wasn't so...specific.'

'You mean, it would appeal to you?'

The toast fell from her hand. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'Are you going to play this game? Really?'

The words, so similar to those she'd thrown at him, made heat crawl up  her face. 'Fine. Touché.' She hardened her spine and forced out the next  words. 'But you know what I'm trying to say.'

'Are we still talking about my manuscript?' he asked, a trace of a smile on his lips.

'We've taken a slight detour.'

'A detour that touches on our...friendship and the adjustments I need to make in order for it to advance?'

Her hands shook at how quickly they'd strayed into dangerous territory.  She couldn't look into his probing gaze so she studiously buttered her  toast. 'Y...yes.'

He stayed silent for so long she was forced to glance up. Blue eyes  pinned her to her chair. 'Don't expect me to turn into something I'm  not, querida.'

'Take a first step. You might surprise yourself.'

'And you, piqueña, how are you surprising yourself?'

The question, unexpected and lightning-quick, sent a bolt of shock  through her. She floundered, unsure of what to say. 'I...I'm not  sure...'

'Well, make sure. If I'm to bend over backwards to accommodate you, you have to give something back, sí?'

That pulse of fear intensified. Opening up to Rafael in Monaco, telling  him things she'd never told another human soul, had left her feeling raw  and exposed.

Now, by daring her in his oh-so-sexy way to open up even more, he  threatened to take it a whole lot further, luring her with a promise she  knew deep down he wouldn't keep. That was the essence of playboys. They  exuded charisma, invited confidences until they had you in their grasp.                       
       
           



       

And yet the rare glimpses she'd caught of Rafael threatened that  long-held belief. He was alluding to the fact that playboys could have  hearts of gold. Raven wasn't sure she was ready to handle that nugget of  information.

For years, her mother had believed it-believed it still-and look where  it'd got her. If she let Rafael in and he did a number on her, she  wasn't sure who she would hate more-Rafael...or herself.

'You don't have to turn into something else. All I ask is to see a  little bit more, make my choice with a clear, if not total, view of the  facts. Because I can't have sex with you for the sake of it. I would  hate myself and I would hate you.'

'Ah, but we're already having sex, mi amor. All that's left is for our bodies to catch up.'

Of course, she could really have done without that thought in her head. Because, suddenly, it was all she could think about.

* * *

She walked beside Rafael along the long paddock an hour later, watching  as he stopped at every single All-Star garage to greet and exchange info  with the crew. From her stint as his physio last year, Raven knew just  how meticulous a driver he was. He understood the minutiae of racing to  the last detail and could probably recite the inner workings of a turbo  engine in his sleep.

Which was why his accident, judged to be the result of human  error-his-had stunned everyone. Some had speculated that it had been the  effects of partying hard that had finally done him in. But, in the last  few weeks, she'd caught occasional glimpses of the man underneath and  knew Rafael de Cervantes wasn't all gloss. He rarely drank more than a  glass of champagne at any event and she knew he'd banned smoking in the  paddock a few years back.

What she didn't know was how deep the Rafael de Cervantes well ran, or  how monstrous the demons were that chased him. It was clear he was  haunted by something in his past. At first she'd thought it was his  father. But even though that particular revelation had been painful to  him, it had been when she'd mentioned his mother that the real pain had  surfaced, just for a moment.

She glanced at him, a little overwhelmed by the many facets she had  previously been too riled up to see. Rafael had traits she abhorred,  traits that reminded her of the man whose DNA ran through her veins.

But he was also so much more.

'I can hear you thinking again.'

'Unfortunately, my active brain cells refuse to subside into bimbo mode  just because I'm in your presence.' She cast a telling glance at a  groupie who'd just obtained an autograph and was squealing in delight as  she ran to her friends.

'You can wow me with your superior intelligence later,' he said as they approached the last garage in the paddock.

The first thing she noticed was the age group of this particular crew.  Aside from two older supervisors, everyone else ranged from early to  late teens. The other thing that struck her was their synchronicity and  clear pride in what they were doing.

When Rafael greeted them, they responded as if he were their supreme  deity come to life. She wasn't surprised by their reaction. What  surprised her was Rafael's almost bashful response as they gathered  around him. Then it all disappeared as he started to speak. Started to  teach.

They hung on his every word, and took turns asking him challenging  questions, which he threw right back to them. Respect shone from their  eyes and the depth of understanding he'd managed to impart in the space  of the hour before the race started left Raven reeling.

'Close your mouth, piqueña. You'll catch flies,' he quipped as he led her away from the garage towards the VIP Paddock Club.

Her mouth snapped shut. 'That was incredible, the way you got them to  listen, got them to apply knowledge they'd forgotten they had.'

'They're a talented bunch. And they love racing. All there is to learn is a respect for speed.' He shrugged. 'It wasn't hard.'

'No. You're a natural teacher.'