His Ultimate Prize(21)

'I learned from the best.'

'Marco?'

He shook his head and held the door open to let her into the lift that  whisked them up to the top floor VIP lounge. From there they had a  panoramic view over the entire race circuit.

Rafael bypassed several A-listers who'd paid thousands of euros to  attend this exclusive event and led her into a private roped-off area.  He held out a chair for her then sat down opposite her. 'My father. He  gave me my first go-kart when I was five. There's nothing about engines  that he doesn't know. By the time I was nine, I could dismantle and  reassemble a carburetor without assistance.'

'I didn't know your father raced.'

'He didn't. My grandfather had a small hotel business and wanted my  father to study business so he could help him run it. But he never lost  his love of racing. The moment his business grew successful enough, he  enrolled Marco, then me in learning the sport. And he took us to all the  European races, much to my mother's distress.'

The pang of envy for what she'd never had made her feel small so she  pushed it away. Especially given what she knew of the strain between  father and son now.

'That sounds just like what happened to Carlos in your story.'

He glanced at her with a tense smile. 'Does it?'

'Yes.' When he just shrugged, she decided not to pursue the subject of  his story. 'So your father took you to all the races? Sounds like an  idyllic childhood.'

'Sure, if you're prepared to forgive the fact that back then I was so  intent on winning I didn't feel any compunction in crashing into every  single car in front of me just to put them out of business. I was  disqualified more times than I actually won races.'

'But I'm guessing your father persevered. He saw the raw talent and did  everything he could to nurture it.' Something her own father hadn't even  come close to attempting with her.

'Sí, he showed me the difference between winning at all costs and  winning with integrity. And I repaid that by making sure he would never  be able to drive a car again.' His face was taut with pain, his eyes  bleak with a haunting expression that cracked across her heart.

'I saw how things were between you two at Jack's christening, but have you spoken to him at all since the accident?'

He tensed, waited for the waiter who'd brought their drinks to leave before he answered. 'Of course I have.'

'I mean about what happened.'

'What would be the point?'

'To find out how he feels about it?'

'How he feels? Trust me, I have a fair idea.'

Recalling the look on his father's face, she shook her head. 'Maybe you  don't. Perhaps you should talk to him again. Or maybe let him talk to  you. He could have something to say to you instead of you thinking it  only works the other way round.'

He frowned suddenly. 'You're head shrinking me again. And how the hell did we get onto this subject anyway? It's boring me.'

'Don't,' she said softly.

A glaze of ice sharpened his blue eyes. 'Don't what?'

'Don't trivialise it. You'll have to tackle it sooner or later.'

'Like you have tackled your father?'

Her breath shut off in her chest. 'This is different.'

'How?' He had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of engines  leaving the garages to line up on the racetrack. Rafael barely glanced  at them, his attention riveted on her face.

'Despite everything that's happened, your father loves you enough to  want to connect with you. My father doesn't care if I'm alive or dead.  He never has, and he never will.'

Rafael saw the depth of pain that slashed across her features before she  turned to watch the action unfolding on the racetrack. He wanted to say  something, but found he had no words of wisdom or of comfort to give  her.

Because he didn't agree with the redeeming quality she seemed to want to  find in him. He had no doubt that if she knew the extent of his sins,  she wouldn't be so quick to offer her comfort.

An icy vice threatened to crush his chest, just as it did every time he  thought of his mother. He'd awoken this morning with her screams ringing  in his ears, the image of her lifeless eyes imprinted on his retinas.

No, he had no words of comfort. He'd trashed everything good in his  life, and had come close to dismantling his relationship with his  brother last year. The last thing he wanted to do was admit to Raven  that part of his refusal to speak to his father was because he didn't  want to discover whether he was irredeemably trashed in his father's  eyes too.

His gaze flicked to the cars lining up on the track. Unlike the normal  grand prix races when the cars lined up according to their qualifying  time, the six All-Star cars were lined up side by side.

Team El Camino's red and black racer, driven by the young driver he'd  been working with, was the first off the mark. Rafael felt a spurt of  pride, which he immediately doused.

He had no right to feel pride. All he'd done was take what his father  had taught him and passed it on. His father deserved the credit here,  not him.

'Don't be so hard on yourself.'                       
       
           



       

Irrational anger sprang up within him. The fact that she seemed so  determined to make him feel better when she was content to wallow in her  own daddy issues filled him with anger. The fact that he was sexually  frustrated-heck, he was going on eight months without having had sex-was  setting his teeth on edge. The fact that he was up here, cooling his  heels when he wanted more than anything to be down there...behind the  wheel of a racing car-

Ice chilled his veins as he acknowledged the full extent of what he was feeling.

'Rafael?'

He didn't respond or turn towards her. Instead he watched the screen as  Axel Jung threatened to take the lead from the young driver.

'Rafael, are you okay?'

'Do me a favour, querida, and stop talking. You're holding a mirror up  to my numerous flaws. There's only so much I can take before I have to  revert to type. And since you don't want that, I suggest you let me  absorb a few of them and concentrate on enjoying this race, sí?'

Far from doing what he expected of her, which was to retreat into sullen  silence or-from experience with other women-flounce off in feminine  affront, she merely picked up the remote that operated the giant screen  in their section and turned it on. Then she picked up the menu, asked  him what he wanted for lunch, then ordered it for them, her face set in  smooth, neutral lines.

He waited several minutes, despising the emotion that ate away his  insides like acid on metal. Guilt. An emotion he didn't like to  acknowledge.

Guilt for upsetting her. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

A shapely eyebrow lifted in his direction, then she nodded. 'It's okay. I  don't like dredging up my past either. I guess I should learn to  respect yours.'

'But I seem to invite you to dig, which is very unlike me.' He frowned.

A tiny, perfect smile played around lips he remembered tasting. A  craving such as he'd never known punched through him. Right in that  moment, all he wanted to do was taste her again. Keep on tasting her  until there were no clothes between them. Then he would taste her in the  most elemental way possible. Right between her legs.

He would so enjoy watching her come. Again and again. And again.

Normally, he would have been thrilled by the natural path of his  thoughts, but Rafael admitted his need held a previously unknown edge to  it...an almost desperate craving he'd never experienced before. He  wanted Raven. And yet a part of him was terrified by the depth of his  need.

Forcing himself not to analyse it too closely, he returned his attention  to the track and felt a further spurt of discontentment when he saw  Axel Jung had taken the lead.

Lunch was delivered and they ate in truce-like silence.

When Axel Jung took the race by a half second, Rafael tried to force  back his black mood. As the CEO of the company organising the event, he  had to step up to the podium and say a few words.

'If your jaw tightens any further, you'll do yourself an injury,' Raven murmured next to him.

'I'm smiling, querida, like the great racer slash CEO that I am,' he muttered back, turning towards her.

This close, her perfume filled his nostrils and invaded his senses. She  gave a laugh and raised a sceptical brow. 'We both know you want to  throw your toys out of the pram because the team you silently support  came second. You're supposed to be unbiased, remember?'

He moved closer to her, felt the brush of her arm against his side and  the depth of need intensified. 'I am unbiased. I just wanted my young  driver to win, that's all,' he said, unrepentant.

Her teasing laugh and the way she bumped his shoulder in playful  admonition unravelled him further. He glanced down into her face and his  breath strangled at her breathtaking beauty.

A shout made him turn. Axel had stepped off the podium and was making  his way towards them. Or Raven in particular, if the interest in his  eyes was anything to go by.

Before conscious thought formed, Rafael moved, deliberately blocking the German from accessing the woman beside him. His woman.

'Congratulations, Jung. I think the press want their interview now.' He  deftly turned the German towards the waiting paparazzi. As moves went,  Rafael thought it was supremely smooth, but Raven's gasp told him the  grace had been lost on her.