I feel a body press against my side. Turning my head, I find Leandro Silva standing next to me.
Holy shit!
Leandro Silva drives for one of the best teams in Formula 1. He’s brilliant, and he was considered number one for a long time—until Carrick came along and knocked him off his spot, that is. It’s rumored that they have a mutual dislike for one another.
I’ve admired Leandro’s driving for a long time. He’s one of my favorite drivers, and it helps that he’s Brazilian, not that I’m biased or anything. I’ve wanted to meet him for forever. Of course, I’ve seen him at the track, but I’ve never gotten up the nerve to go over and introduce myself.
I wonder what he’s doing here.
“Hello.” He gives me a panty-dropping smile, a sexy dimple appearing in his cheek.
Oh God.
Did I mention that Leandro is really good-looking? Like really good-looking. Not better than Carrick. Just different. To Carrick’s dirty-blond hair, Leandro’s is black. To Carrick’s blues, Leandro’s eyes are as dark as night. And to Carrick’s golden skin, Leandro’s is olive.
Okay, I’m guessing you get the picture.
“Hi.” I try to smile, but it comes off as more of a grin, and it feels awkward on my face. And that’s probably because I’m staring at him like a starstruck idiot.
It’s just…I’ve watched this guy race on the TV since I was sixteen! He’s a hero back home in Brazil.
“You’re Andi Amaro, right?”
He knows my name!
Hang on…he knows my name?
“How do you know my name?” It comes out sounding a little shorter than I intended, so I give a curious tilt of my head to play it off.
He lets out a deep chuckle. “You’re famous. Did you not know?”
“No.” I screw my face up. “Famous for what exactly?”
He angles his body toward mine. We’re suddenly awfully close for two people who have just met. So close that I can see the hint of chocolate brown that centers his eyes, and I can smell his musky aftershave. But then to be fair, there isn’t exactly a lot of spare room here at the bar.
“There aren’t many female mechanics in Formula One—and definitely none as beautiful as you.”
My cheeks redden.
What? I’m a girl, and Leandro Silva just called me beautiful. He’s a brilliant driver and a hot older guy—well, when I say older, I mean, he’s thirty—so, of course, I’m going to be flattered.
“Sorry, I forgot myself. I expect you to know who I am, but you might not. I’m Leandro Silva.” He holds his hand out to shake mine.
“Of course I know who you are,” I reply, my face flushing, as I slip my hand into his.
His hand is warm and rough. And I feel a spark of something. But nothing like what I feel when Carrick touches me.
Removing my hand from his, I turn back to the bar.
“So, I hear that you are a fellow Brazilian. Well, half-Brazilian. The other half is English, correct?”
I look at him, a smile tugging on my lips. “You know way too much about me.”
He shrugs, a grin touching his eyes. “When I find someone interesting, I make it my business to find out everything I can.”
Is he flirting with me?
It’s no secret that Leandro likes his women. He’s a serial dater, but the women are always models and actresses. Definitely not female mechanics.
And I don’t know why—maybe it’s the Jägerbombs or my feelings over Carrick and Sienna, the jealousy eating away at me—but I find myself leaning in and saying with a flirtatious tilt to my mouth, “And you find me interesting?”
A definite heat enters his eyes. “Very. I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time now.”
I don’t know why, but I flicker a glance across to Carrick. And when I see that he’s not even looking but talking to Ben, it pisses me off, which in turn fuels me even more to flirt.
I look back to Leandro, giving him my undivided attention. “I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time, too. I really admire your driving. I’ve seen all of your races.”
Okay, that was lame. I really shouldn’t be allowed to talk to men.
But surprisingly, it seems to work on him, as he leans in even closer.
“You’re a fan?”
“Mmhmm.”
“So, why are you working for Ryan when you clearly should be working for me?”
Resting my arm on the bar, I give a one-shoulder shrug, tipping up the corner of my lips. “Because he offered me a job, and you didn’t.”
“How stupid of me.”
“I know, right?” I bite down on my lip.
Lifting a hand, he sweeps my hair from my shoulder and brings his mouth close to my ear. “I might be being forward here, but I was wondering if you’d like to get out of here and come to a party with me.”