His Ultimate Prize(32)

He stepped back swiftly, evoking a vivid image of carrying the contagion she'd accused him of seconds ago.

'Well, stay away from me, then, and enjoy that luxury. Because once you  have me in your life, you may not have her for long.' His voice came  from far away, as if from the shell he'd referred to moments ago.

'What on earth are you talking about?'

'You know I put my father in a wheelchair eight years ago. But, even before that, my life was on a slippery downward slope.'

'You've let yourself suffer enough. You have to learn to forgive yourself, Rafael.'

His head went back as if she'd struck him. 'Forgive myself? For not only  crippling my own father but for taking away the one person he treasured  the most?'

'What did you do?'

'I killed my mother, Raven. I put her in my car, drove too fast into a  sharp corner and executed a perfect somersault that snuffed her out  within minutes.'

The horror that engulfed her had nothing to do with his emotionless  recounting of events. No, the dismay that rocked through her stemmed  from knowing just how much more he'd suffered, how he'd buried it all  under the perfect front.

His laugh was a harsh, cruel sound. 'Now that's more like it. That look  of horror is what I expect. Maybe now you'll listen to me when I suggest  you stay away from me.'

He pulled on his jeans, fished out a black polo shirt and shrugged into it.

Reeling as she was from the news he'd delivered, it took her a moment to realise what he was saying into his phone.

'You're leaving Mexico?' she asked when he hung up.

'The race is over. The next one isn't for another four days.'

She started in surprise. 'Where are you going?'

He gave her a grim smile. 'No. The twenty questions is over, quer-' He  stopped, looked around, then shoved more things into the large bag he'd  placed on the bed.

Scrambling wildly, she said, 'What about your physio sessions?'

'I've just endured a two-hour race. I hardly think I'm going to crumble  into a million little pieces if I go without a session for a few days.'

Her lips firmed but the questions hammered in her mind. 'No, you won't.  As long as you're not attempting to skydive over any volcanoes?'

'Been there, done that.'

His phone rang. He stared at it for several seconds, pain rippling in  tides over his face. Finally, sucking in a deep breath, he answered it.

'Sí, Papá?' he rasped.

Raven's heart caught. The faint hope that help for Rafael would come  from another angle was stymied when the conversation grew heated with  bursts of staccato responses.

Rafael grew tenser with each passing moment until his body was as taut as a bow.

The moment he hung up, he reached for his bag. The action held an air of permanence about it that terrified her.

'So, I'll see you at the track in Rio?' she asked, hating herself for the desperation in her voice.

He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He started to answer but  his phone rang again. He stared into her eyes, his expression  inscrutable save for the tinge of relief she glimpsed before he masked  it.

'No, you won't. Adios, bonita.'

He pressed the answer button, raised the phone to his ear and walked out of the door.

* * *

Rafael told himself to keep moving. To walk away before he brought chaos to her life. Time was running out for him.

He knew he wasn't ready to give up racing. Just as he knew it was his  guilt that was causing the feelings rushing through him. For him to hang  onto the only thing that kept him sane, he had to try to make amends.                       
       
           



       

No, racing wasn't the only thing that kept him sane. If he admitted nothing else, he would admit that.

Raven Blass kept him sane, made him laugh, made him feel things he  hadn't felt in a long time. But for her sake he had to walk away. Keep  walking away. He was toxic in this state.

He couldn't allow himself to be swayed into thinking he was anything else but what she'd first thought him to be.

As for what he planned to do... His father had summoned him.

Since he had nothing to lose, he saw no reason to refuse the summons.  Just as he saw no reason to examine why his heart felt as if it would  burst out of his chest with every step he took away from her.

Gritting his teeth, he walked out, threw a 'no comment' to a stunned  media before he stepped up in his helicopter and buckled himself in. He  had no heart. So he had nothing to worry about.

* * *

Raven got the email an hour later. She'd been fired. Rafael de Cervantes  no longer needed her services. She would be paid her full contract fee  and an insanely hefty bonus for her inconvenience. Et cetera...et  cetera...

Thing was, she wasn't surprised. Or even hurt. The man she'd fallen in  love with was in full retreat mode because she'd got under his skin, had  glimpsed the ravaged soul of the outwardly irreverent but desperately  lonely playboy who had been grappling with monstrous demons.

She could've fought to stay, cited contract clauses and notice periods,  but she knew first-hand how intransigent Rafael could be. And she knew  offering her help when it was unwelcome would only set back the progress  she'd made.

So she sent an email response. She would leave on one condition. That he let her recommend a physio who could help.

His curt text message agreeing to the condition made her heart contract painfully. Her next request was flatly refused.

No, Rafael stated, he had no wish to see her. But he wished her good luck with her future endeavours.

Raven watched the remaining All-Star events like most people did around  the world-from the comfort of her couch. Except she had an extra reason  to watch. She told herself she was making sure Rafael's new physio was  doing a good enough job. It only took a glimpse of Rafael walking down  the paddock en route to his car at the Montreal race to know that he  hadn't suffered any setbacks.

At least not physically.

His haggard features told a different story. That and his studious avoidance of the media.

Her heart clenched as she devoured images of him; called herself ten  kinds of fool when she froze his latest image and let her gaze settle on  his hauntingly beautiful face.

The icy blue eyes staring into the camera still held the hint of  devilish irreverence that was never far away but a raw desperation  lurked there too, one that made tears prick her eyes. With a shaky hand,  she pressed the release button and sat, numb, as the rest of the race  unfolded.

Whatever Rafael had been running from still chased him with vicious  relentlessness. The thought made her heart ache so painfully, she was  halfway to picking up the phone when she stopped herself.

What would she say to him that she hadn't said before? He'd made it  painfully clear he didn't want her interfering in his life. Like all his  relationships, she'd been a means to an end, a sexual panacea to make  him forget. She had no choice but to accept it was over.

She needed to put the past in the past and move on.

Which was why she nearly binned the invitation that arrived a week later.

The All-Star event's last race was taking place in Monaco. To be  followed by an All-Star gala in honour of the drivers who'd given up  their time to raise money for the road safety programme.

The only thing that stopped her from throwing the invitation away was  the hand-written note from Sasha de Cervantes on behalf of her and her  husband.

Sasha had been a good friend to her when she'd first joined the X1  Premier. Raven knew she'd put her friendship with Rafael on the line  because of her and it had almost caused an irreparable rift between  them. Certainly, she knew that not admitting Raven's role in Rafael's  accident was what had caused the initial friction between Sasha and  Marco.

So although attending the gala would mean she ran the risk of coming  face to face with Rafael, Raven slid the invitation and the accompanying  first class aeroplane ticket into her bag, then spent the next three  days desperately trying to stop her heart from beating itself into  exhaustion every time she thought of returning to Monaco.

* * *

Rafael stood before the door leading to the study at Casa León, where  his father waited. Contrary to his intentions when he'd left Mexico two  weeks ago, he hadn't made the trip to León. The indescribable need that  had assailed him as he'd lifted off the racetrack in Mexico had led him  down another path. A path which had brought him an infinitesimal amount  of comfort. Comfort and the courage to grasp the door before him...and  open it.

His father was seated behind his ancient desk in the room that seemed to have fallen into a time warp décor-wise.

'Buenos tardes, Papá.'

'Mi hijo,' his father replied. My son. 'It's good to see you.'

Guilt and sadness welled in Rafael's chest as he let his gaze rest  properly on his father for the first time in eight years. His hair had  turned almost completely grey and his limbs, paralysed thanks to Rafael,  appeared shrunken. But his eyes, grey and sharp like Marco's, sparked  with keen intellect and an expression Rafael thought he'd never see  again. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. 'Is it?' he asked, his  throat tight with all the emotions he held within.