Sweet Carolina(22)

His head pounded, muffled by the roar of blood past his ears on its way south. Caro's fingers tightened in his hair and she tugged hard, dislodging him. He cursed and pulled her close with a hand at her back. He wasn't through. He'd never get enough of her unique taste.

“Dell,” she said. The urgency in her tone and the sharp tug on the back of his skull got his attention. Blood still rushed past his ears, his scalp hurt, and the pounding – was coming from outside his skull. “Someone's at the door. We have to…”

“Get dressed, Caro,” he finished for her. He grabbed the undershirts off the floor, handing her one as he jammed his arms into his suit.

“Be right there,” he called to whomever was at the door. Thank God, whoever it was had the decency to knock instead of barging in. He zipped his suit and fisted his undershirt in his hand. He helped Caro fasten her collar back in place, and when she was all dressed, he dipped his head for one last kiss.

“We aren't through,” he said, liking the flush on her cheeks and the way her lips looked after he tasted them. “Come in,” he called.

Caro turned her back to the door, grabbed the race book from today's race and began to study it as the door opened. Russell stepped inside.

“The car passed inspection. We'll be loaded in a few minutes,” he said.

“Thanks, Russell,” she said without turning. “Is the chopper ready? Dell and I need to get back to the hotel so we can get cleaned up and on the road.”

“Chopper's waiting for you. I've got a cart outside to take you to it.”

Dell moved to the door. “Thanks, Russell. We'll be right there.”

Russell glanced from Dell to Caro and back again to the undershirt fisted in Dell's hand. He moved to the door. “Okay, then.”

Dell closed and locked the door. “You okay?” he asked.

Caro turned. Her lips were puffy and her cheeks still held a healthy glow from their encounter. “I'm fine. We need to go. It's a long way to Las Vegas.” She headed for the door and Dell blocked her way.

“We aren't through, Caro.”

“Yes, we are, Dell. We can't do this…you're a driver, and I own this team. It's not…we can't…”

He almost felt sorry for her, but if she'd felt half the passion he did, she had to know this wasn't something they could ignore. But he wouldn't push her to do something she wasn't ready to do. “Okay, Caro. We'll do this your way, for now. But we aren't through – far from it.”





Chapter Seven





Caro reached for the door latch, and Dell let her go. She'd never… Never felt anything like the toe curling, bone-melting heat that ravaged her body. Never dreamed she could want…need anything as bad as she wanted and needed Dell Wayne. Thank God, Russell came looking for them, or no telling how far she would have let it go. Even now, her breasts craved his touch, and other places ached for what might have been.

Wrong. It was so wrong. She wasn't stupid. Rumors flew around the race circuit faster than a car without a restrictor plate. You couldn't be a woman in a man's world, especially one as driven by testosterone as this one, and not be subject to improper conjecture: but there was no reason to add reality to the fiction. She. Would. Not.

She scooted to the far side of the bench as Dell climbed into the electric cart beside her. She. Would. Not. Touch him. No matter how badly her fingers itched to feel all those hard muscles again. Oh, God. Why did it have to be Dell Wayne?

The chopper ride to the resort north of Phoenix took a lifetime, and when she met Dell later for dinner, she realized cold showers were totally overrated. One heated look from those blue eyes of his, and every want, every need came rushing back, only hotter and more urgent than before. She took the seat across the table from him, determined to put as much distance as possible between them.

“We can't do this,” she said by way of greeting.

Dell lowered the menu in his hands and grinned. “Have dinner?” he asked.

“Don't be dense, Dell. You know what I'm talking about.”

“We haven't done anything,” Dell said, returning to his menu, “to my everlasting regret.”

“Regret all you want, but making a success of this team is my primary goal right now, and I'm not going to blow it for a quickie in the hauler.”

Dell lowered the menu again to look at her. The lazy grin was gone, replaced by a granite façade. “Two things, Caro.” He paused until she met his gaze. “One: I don't see how our personal relationship has any bearing on whether Hawkins Racing succeeds or not. And two: what makes you think it was going to be a fast lap? I know when to go slow, and honey, we might have gotten off to a fast start, but there wasn't going to be anything quick about it, I assure you.”