Emilio banished the thought from his mind, refused to entertain it. He didn’t want the Bedroom Maestro putting the moves on his girlfriend and realized, in that moment, how foolish he’d been. Sharleen hadn’t forced him to come out of retirement—he’d made the decision alone. His love of the sport had been the driving factor, not anything she’d ever said or did during their coaching sessions.
Memories of better days, of all the times they’d talked and laughed, warmed his heart. Emilio pictured Sharleen now, in his mind’s eye, and smiled for the first time in days. He’d never met anyone more loving and sincere and knew in his heart that she was the woman he was destined to spend his life with. Emilio wanted her back in his arms, where she belonged. But to get back in her good graces he’d have to humble himself...
As Emilio approached the finish line, he spotted a curvy female silhouette in a bold, mustard-yellow dress. He was seeing things, had to be, because the woman standing beside Lockland looked like Sharleen. His pulse pounded in his ear, and his heart soared to the sky. Emilio leaned forward in his seat, peered through the windshield, tried to focus his gaze. It really was Sharleen!
His chest puffed up with pride, as if he’d just won another championship, and a grin curled his lips. Seeing Sharleen made him more determined than ever to win her back. Her red lips held a pretty smile, her loose curls flapped in the breeze, and her figure-hugging dress was eye-catching. Emilio couldn’t stop staring at her. His gaze slid over her chest, her hips, and down her silky brown legs. He licked his lips, remembered how incredible it felt being inside her and suddenly lost control of the wheel for the second time.
Emilio slammed on the brakes, stopping safely just in time. He jumped out of the car. He took off his helmet and gloves and tossed them to the ground. His pit crew ran over, wearing bewildered looks, but he ignored them. Sharleen had come to see him, and nothing else mattered.
She strode confidently toward him...twenty feet...ten feet...five feet... Emilio told himself not to rush her, to play it cool. But when she was close, he seized her around the waist and swept her into his arms. He inhaled her perfume, allowed the sweet, floral scent to wash over him. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, stroked her neck, shoulders and hips. Emilio didn’t know how long he stood there, holding Sharleen, but when she pulled away he felt a profound sense of disappointment.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, with a broad smile. “I missed you.”
“I didn’t want you to leave for Milan until we cleared the air—”
“What makes you think I’m going to Milan?”
“Aren’t you? Antwan told me you’re leaving tonight for the Classic Car Show.”
He returned her puzzled look. “Wait...aren’t you going on tour with Rashad J?”
“No way!” she said, adamantly shaking her head. “The record label asked, but I refused. Why?”
Emilio hung his head. “Damn, I can’t believe it. Antwan punked us again.”
“That snake!” Sharleen said. “Let’s go kick some butt at Elite Management.”
“Slow down, Foxy Cleopatra!” he joked, affectionately patting her on the hips. “We can’t kill Antwan. He brought us back together.”
“You’re right, but I still want to egg his office!”
He laughed. “God, I missed you,” he said, nuzzling his chin against her cheek.
“Then why didn’t you return any of my calls and texts?”
Emilio spotted a lanky photographer scaling the fence and tightened his hold around her waist. “Let’s go to my private suite. We can talk there.”
They walked through the pedestrian tunnel, past the gift shop and into the suite. It had theater-style seats, a fully stocked bar and flat-screen TVs. It offered panoramic views of the track and everything a fan could want while watching the big race. Emilio sat in his favorite chair and pulled Sharleen down on his lap. He loved feeling her warmth, stroking her skin and playing in her lush, thick hair.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked. “I didn’t even know I was coming to practice until I pulled into the parking lot!”
“Francesca told me where to find you.”
His eyes widened. My sister did what?
“I went to your estate, and Francesca invited me inside. I told her the truth about the bonus, my friendship with Antwan and my professional background. I wanted her to know I’m not after your money, and that I have a career I’m proud of.”
“I appreciate that, Sharleen. I had a long talk with Francesca this morning during breakfast, and she admitted that she’s jealous of you—”