Burning Rubber

In racing, you’re in or you’re out. Sometimes both at the same time…

Extreme Racing, Book 2 Go ahead, call Callie Monroe the queen of fools. She already does. After NASCAR slammed its doors in her face, she came up with the idea for the X-TREME Racing League. Now she’s all but relegated to pit row while her business partner—aka XRL’s bankroll—takes the credit. One look at NASCAR champion Derrick Derringer red-lines Callie’s fantasy gauge. And when he actually notices her next to her Playboy-hot boss, he makes her sweat. Derrick has always been attracted to the studious type, but Callie’s got the cherry on top of her beauty and brains: she’s a gear head. She’s also scared to death of him. He’s never had to work hard to get a woman in his bed, but with Callie, he finds himself changing tactics for a prize he never expected. Her heart. Callie has no intention of being Derrick’s next “checkered flag”, but if she’s to lure him over to XRL, she’ll play the game. A dangerous one. Not only because his kiss sends her focus sliding out of control. There’s a saboteur who seems intent on putting XRL into the wall—no matter how many people have to die.

Warning:

The author doesn’t guarantee this book will help you “get lucky”, but does have

documented proof that the love, laughter, naughtiness and hot, hot, hot sex in this book will leave you gasping for air. Dangerous curves ahead!

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 Burning Rubber Copyright © 2011 by Pamela Britton ISBN: 978-1-60928-371-1 Edited by Tera Kleinfelter Cover by Kanaxa All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber Pamela Britton

Dedication

This one’s for Melissa, my best friend and therapist. Thank you for being a surrogate mom to Codi, and for letting me cry on your shoulder this past year. I don’t know what I would have done without your support. You make a pretty mean pot of carne asada, too. For all that and more, I love you.

Chapter One

He was six-foot-one of twisted steel and testosterone and caused Callie Monroe to stop dead in her tracks. “That’s Derrick Derringer,” Callie’s boss, Veronica, sounded as stupefied as Callie when she caught sight of the sunglass-clad, dark-haired, black-uniformed man who leaned against the nose of an ebonycolored race car. “That’s the man in the picture.” Callie squinted against the afternoon sun. They were on pit road, at a track somewhere in the south. Where exactly, Callie didn’t know. They’d been zipping around the country in a private jet for so many days they could be in New Mexico for all she knew. Tennessee maybe. Wherever they were, they had a cloudless blue sky overhead and the heat to prove it. She would bet the people up in the grandstands were dying up there. They were completely encircled by metal and concrete. Quite a few seats were empty even though some of America’s most famous race car drivers were about to qualify for this weekend’s race. “My, my, my.” Her boss smirked, the words the verbal equivalent of drool. My, my, my was right. Callie adjusted the straps of the leather satchel she’d hoisted over her right shoulder. He was talking to one of his crew members, a long line of vehicles stretching out behind him. Heat radiated off his car’s hood, causing the air to shimmer like he sat amidst a mythical cloud, one with Zeus in the midst of it…or maybe Thor. “Let’s go.” Veronica shot off like a ship from port. Callie glanced between Derrick and her boss. “Ms. Adams, perhaps we should—” Veronica had already moved off. “—talk to him after he’s qualified,” Callie finished. Okay. So much for discretion. Veronica Adams didn’t know the meaning of the word—as evidenced by the bright green shirt she wore, the fabric dipping off her shoulders and playing peek-a-boo with her sun-bronzed skin. The heavyknit fabric clung to her every curve, the bottom portion tucked into off-white pants, a thick brown belt around her waist. With her mass of fiery-red hair and olive-green eyes, she looked more like a Victoria’s Secret model than the CEO of the recently formed X-TREME Racing League. “Derrick Derringer,” she drawled the moment she stopped in front of him.

Burning Rubber

Derrick turned toward her, his body straightening when he caught sight of her. As usual, Callie faded into the backdrop. She was used to this reaction. She and Veronica were like the Lone Ranger and Tonto. People only had eyes for the man in the white hat—not his dark-haired sidekick. “Well, hello there,” Derrick drawled in a deeply Southern accent, his gaze sweeping over Veronica like lasers in a checkout line. “Hi.” Veronica gave the man a bright smile. “Veronica Adams,” she announced. The name always evoked a reaction, so it was no surprise when Derrick lifted a brow. Her boss’s exploits were legendary. Daughter of a billionaire software developer. Heiress to a fortune. Playmate of the month too, once upon a time, but there was more to it than that. The woman liked to consume men like most people imbibed coffee. The more cups, the better the buzz she’d told Callie a few weeks back. Her reputation as a man-eater always preceded her. Callie could tell by the look in Derrick Derringer’s eyes he’d heard of her, and that he fully intended to find out if the rumors were true. “Veronica Adams,” he repeated, seeming to roll the word around his mouth…savoring it as if testing it out as for a moment—a brief instant—Callie wondered what it would be like to walk in her boss’s highheeled shoes. How would it feel to have a man like Derrick Derringer pursue her…to kiss her, maybe…to perhaps throw her up on the hood of his car and— “…Callie Monroe.” Callie jerked, thinking for a moment she’d spoken the words aloud. “Uh…yeah?” She pushed her glasses back up her nose, the lenses now smudged, but not so badly she didn’t spot Veronica staring down at her impatiently. What? What had she missed? Verbal instructions? An introduction? An explanation as to who she was? Moron. Idiot. Person of no consequence. How else to explain the fact she’d lost complete control of an idea that had been uniquely her own—the X-TREME Racing League. “Say. Hello,” Veronica hissed. “Oh. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Derringer.” Callie held her hand out, knowing she’d hear about this later. Veronica did not suffer fools lightly. Then again, Callie had been the queen of fools lately. He took her hand. Instant, embarrassing color spread from her face all the way to her neck—like an out-of-control toxic spill. Though he wore black sunglasses, the heat of his gaze still shone through. It didn’t matter that he had no interest in her. He was the kind of man who could make a woman feel like the only female in the world for one, brief, electrifying moment. And he would never be hers. That made her feel…well, all right, she would admit it. It made her feel ridiculously disappointed.

www.samhainpublishing.com

7

Pamela Britton

“Nice to meet you, Miss Monroe.” There it was again…the tongue roll. He purred like a tomcat on the prowl, or maybe that was his accent—a mix of Southern charm and seduction. “Can we talk to you?” Veronica asked, glancing at the man standing near Derrick. “Alone.” “This is my crew chief, Brett Patterson.” Derrick nodded toward the gray-haired man who stood nearby. His black-clad teammate observed the two women with an air of amusement. Obviously, he was used to females approaching the famous driver—and then those same women wanting to be alone with him. “We’re about to get to work here,” Derrick added. “I’m afraid whatever you have to say is going to have to wait until after I qualify.” Veronica didn’t bother to acknowledge her introduction to Brett Patterson, much less say hello. Callie smiled at Brett instead, her gaze encompassing Derrick. The smile slid away. He was staring at her, giving her the once over. Callie was almost certain of it. Her whole body heated even more, something she would have sworn was impossible, but her armpits began to sweat just the same. “What I have to say to you will just take a moment.” Veronica scooted toward her, forcing Callie to step aside. She always did whenever they were around men—especially drop-dead gorgeous men. Callie had no idea why. It wasn’t like she was competition or anything. “You’re not supposed to qualify for another ten minutes.” Veronica smiled brightly. “At least according to my watch.” Mr. Derringer ignored her, his eyes still on Callie. She saw him studying her behind the lenses of his sunglasses, the September sun exceptionally bright. She looked away, shocked to the core he seemed more interested in her than Veronica. A woman as stunning as her boss should be able to make a man like Derrick Derringer whistle a merry tune. Apparently not. “Just a quick second,” Veronica added, sliding in front of Callie again. She blocked Derrick’s view. “I’ll be right back,” his crew chief said, apparently realizing the futility of saying no to Veronica Adams. “Make it quick.” Callie peeked around the side of Derrick. He was gazing at Veronica again, but not saying anything. He even crossed his arms, assuming an air of impatience. Callie almost smiled. She had a feeling she was going to like this Derrick Derringer. “I’m from the X-TREME Racing League,” Veronica tried again when it became apparent Derrick wouldn’t make this easy for her. X-TREME—Total Racing Elite Motorsports Enterprises—an acronym Callie had invented herself, and it was like a knife to Callie’s heart to hear Veronica say it. Veronica, who’d all but stolen the idea. “The extreme what?” he asked, leaning closer. Generators buzzed nearby, making it hard to hear, especially when helicopters were flying overhead. Veronica sashayed closer, her long hair glistening like it belonged in a shampoo commercial.

8

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“The X-TREME Racing League,” she repeated. “Total Racing Elite Motorsports Enterprises.” Twin brows arched over the top of his sunglasses, then dropped—like the support system of a bridge. “What the heck is that?” “I thought you might want to know the answer to that question.” Veronica’s smile grew wider. “But first, let me ask you a question.” Her boss waited for Derrick to respond, and when he didn’t, pressed her lips together in a way Callie knew meant she wasn’t pleased. Miraculously, Veronica contained her ire. “How would you like to race cars like they did in the old days, Mr. Derringer?” she asked. “Down and dirty, no-holds-barred, anything goes, pedal-to-the-metal racing? No stupid rules. No ridiculous restrictions, and most importantly, no caution flags with ten laps to go.” Good God. She’d even stolen Callie’s pitch. “Best of all,” Veronica added, “I’ll pay you a small fortune to do it.” He lifted a hand, scratched a spot on the back of his neck. “I’m not allowed to race anything other than stock cars.” He softened his words with a smile of his own. “Owner’s rules.” “I know.” Veronica wouldn’t give up, her feet firmly planted in front of Derrick. “But your contract is up once you finish out the season, and everyone knows your team owner hasn’t agreed to a new deal. It’s front-page news in the motorsports industry.” News Callie had delivered to Veronica because her boss didn’t follow racing. All Veronica had wanted was to own a race team. When Callie had heard about her desire to dive into motorsports, Callie had presented her with the idea of owning a whole league. The next thing Callie knew, Veronica had taken the idea and run with it. “Just what are you suggesting, Miss Adams?” “I want you to race for me. To be specific, I want you to drive in my newly formed X-TREME Racing League where the action on the track will be as wild as the action off the track.” This time a single black brow rose above the frame of his glasses. “Let me get this straight,” he drawled. “You’ve formed your own sanctioning body?” “I have.” Veronica tipped her chin up proudly. “For car racing?” Veronica nodded. “The X-TREME Racing League?” She nodded again. “Where you propose drivers race like they did in the olden days?” “Exactly,” Ms. Adams nodded to emphasize the word. “Aren’t I brilliant?” Callie sighed. She’d underestimated how difficult it would be to hear Veronica pass the idea off as her own. Unfortunately, she needed Veronica. More specifically, she needed her unlimited supply of money.

www.samhainpublishing.com

9

Pamela Britton

“I’m still not interested.” He turned away because someone else had walked up to him, someone who wanted his autograph. Veronica pivoted toward Callie. Callie shrugged, but inside she laughed. Veronica Adams, a woman used to doing whatever she wanted, had just been snubbed. Bravo, Mr. Derringer.

Derrick signed his name with a flourish. Then signed it again and again because once he started giving out autographs, it was like the floodgates opened. Those people lucky enough to have Hot Passes always seemed to ambush him. “That’s enough.” He lifted his hands. “I’ve got work to do.” There were groans all around. Derrick ignored them. He turned back to his car… He about ran over Veronica Adams. “I wasn’t done talking to you.” She arrogantly lifted her chin. “Yeah, but I was done talking to you.” He gave her a smile as fake as the one she’d given him earlier. When she stiffened, Derrick almost laughed. Obviously, she wasn’t used to rejection. He shifted his gaze to the studious-looking brunette in the thick-framed, dark-brown glasses who stood next to her. She had the oddest expression on her face. Sort of a cross between surprise and amusement. He threw the woman a smile, just to see what she would do. She blushed. Derrick had known she would. One of the perks of his job was his choice of females anytime, anyplace. Callie’s reaction was exactly the type he enjoyed best. Shy. Restrained. No big push to catch his eye…unlike her boss here. “Look, before you climb into that car, hear me out.” Veronica stepped closer. “This is really not as crazy an idea as you might think.” The woman named Callie looked toward heaven in apparent resignation. “Surely you must be sick to death of the way things are headed in the sport of stock car racing?” Veronica continued like a bull on the loose. “You must be tired of all the fines, the restrictions, the B.S. that goes along with driving on this circuit.” This time Callie rolled her eyes. Veronica turned in time to catch it. He watched her shoot Callie a glare before saying, “I propose to put racing back on track—so to speak. You’ll be in stock cars, yes, but the old-style stock cars, not these new-fangled, wanna-be cars that look more like they were made in Japan than America.” He started to shake his head.

10

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“No, listen.” Veronica sounded more and more desperate. She lost her looks when she wasn’t happy, Derrick noted, glancing back at Callie again. She had wide lips and eyes that looked like they might be pretty once she lost the glasses. “Once upon a time there was only boxing.” Veronica licked her lips. “Now there’s the UFC where boxers kick and punch and wrestle people to the ground. Rodeo used to be a bunch of hicks riding bulls, now there’s the Professional Bull Rider’s association. Tickets to both those events are sold out wherever they go. People love down and dirty, and that’s what I propose to bring back to racing. No penalties for cursing on the air, no politics, no motorsports mafia watching your every move. You’ll be allowed to race, to bump and nudge and spin out your opponents to your heart’s content. Heck, we might even encourage cheating.” Having finished her speech, she lifted her chin proudly. Derrick shook his head even as a part of him wondered if the idea might fly. Sure, he’d heard the grumbles from the fans. Hell, he’d heard the grumbles from his fellow drivers. Still, what she proposed—a new racing league—it was crazy. “Look.” He shook his head. “I appreciate your coming out here today, but I’m still not interested.” Even though a part of him kind of…was. “Mr. Derringer,” the assistant said. “We’re not asking you to make a decision now—” “Quiet, Callie.” The words were the verbal equivalent to snapping teeth. “If Mr. Derringer isn’t interested, he isn’t interested. His loss.” She flicked up that arrogant chin again and walked off. The assistant stayed behind. “She’s frustrated.” He could tell she didn’t like the idea of having to defend her boss. “We’ve spent the past few weeks flying all over the country buttoning up contracts with various race tracks. You’re the first big star we’ve approached and suffice it to say, she was expecting a different reaction.” She had been too, Derrick realized, because she looked equally crushed. “Callie,” an impatient voice called, Veronica having stopped for a moment so she could call her lackey to her side. “Just a moment, Ms. Adams.” “Excuse me?” “How the hell do you put up with that crap?” he found himself asking. The pretty little brunette shrugged. “She’s all right. She just needs to be the center of attention. Like a poodle that needs to be in its owner’s lap.” She covered her mouth—as if she couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing out loud, but it was an apt analogy.

www.samhainpublishing.com

11

Pamela Britton

“It’s okay.” He leaned toward her. “I won’t tell.” She blushed again. He kind of liked how easily he could bring color to her cheeks. “We’ve put lots of work into this.” She glanced back at her boss again. He followed her gaze. Veronica tapped her foot, arms crossed, and in Derrick’s opinion, looking as ugly as the hind end of a coonhound. “You should probably get going.” “She can wait.” Callie narrowed her eyes, holding her ground like a dog refusing to heel. Good for her. “You have to admit the idea has merit.” “Yeah, but she doesn’t know the first thing about racing.” He was surprised when she nodded in agreement. “She doesn’t, but I do.” “You?” he asked. “What do you know?” “You’d be amazed what you can learn spending weekends at a track.” “Racing what?” “I didn’t race, my dad did. Modifieds. I was a crew chief for years.” “You,” he said again, eyeing the loose-fitting slacks and librarian hairstyle. “Derrick.” Brett came up behind him. “We need to get going.” “I can tell you the firing order of a Chevy engine forward and backward.” She stepped closer. “And what size jets might work best on a small-block engine bored thirty over. So between the two of us, we’ve got the bases covered.” “Derrick,” his crew chief called again. She took a step back. “Think it over. You’d be surprised at how plausible the idea really is.” Then she started, as if she’d forgotten something. She reached behind her, swinging a giant leather satchel around. “Here.” She flipped the front up and rooting around inside. “Look this over.” She handed him a document-sized envelope which he immediately gave to his crew chief. “It’s our prospectus. Everything from what tracks you’ll be racing at, to our proposed racing schedule, to how much money you’ll make. Guaranteed income your first year. Check it out, and if it interests you, we’re having a meeting next month at a resort in the Florida Keys. You’ll be wined and dined and shown a good time all the while learning more about the X-TREME Racing League.” “Honestly…” He lifted his palms. “Just look it over,” she insisted, stepping away before his crew chief could hand the envelope back to her. “I know it’s a wild idea, but I really think it’ll work.” She turned away before he could say another word. Derrick shook his head again and watched her walk away. “What was that all about?” His crew chief glanced quickly at the envelope he held.

12

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Nothing,” Derrick replied. “It says X-TREME Racing on the outside. What’s that?” “The world’s craziest idea,” he muttered, grabbing his helmet off the roof of his car. When he climbed inside a moment later, a white-clad official signaling to him not to move (as if he didn’t already know that), Derrick found himself wondering what would it be like? How would it feel to race like they had in the old days? Not to have to watch every word he said? To get behind the wheel of a car that had no restrictions on horsepower? To be allowed—no, encouraged by the sound of it—to drive a little dirty. Man, wouldn’t that be something? He started his car, eight-hundred horses roaring to life and causing his teeth to rattle and his vision to blur for a split second. He longed for the old days, the days when he’d started his racing career, the days of driving on a dirt track, no-holds barred, no stupid rules, just the fastest car winning. As he rolled off a few minutes later he found himself thinking maybe, just maybe, he should take a trip down to the Keys. Not because he was curious about the X-TREME Racing League, although there was that, but because. Strangely enough, he had an equal curiosity about the grease monkey in the business suit otherwise known as Callie Monroe. That was the craziest thing of all.

www.samhainpublishing.com

13

Chapter Two

“Ms. Monroe, someone’s here to see you.” Callie sighed at the interruption before looking away from her computer screen and glancing at her phone. “Can you tell them I’m in a meeting?” she asked plaintively. There was still so much to do before their first test session in November. They were still scrambling to find themselves a headliner and Callie’s eyes were blurry from scanning the Internet for potential names. Callie’s black-and-white business cards said Vice President of Development. Truthfully, the title sounded a lot more grandiose than it was. It meant she wore many hats, most of which kept her up late at night and involved doing anything from approving a race schedule, to reviewing the schematics of an engine, to what she was doing now—research. “I already told him you were free.” Mary’s voice was low and secretive, as if Callie’s uninvited guest stood right over her. “Did they give you a name?” Callie asked. The receptionist at Adams Enterprises didn’t say anything for a moment. “Just a min—” the phone beeped, the connection having been prematurely cut. Callie smiled. Mary was at least sixty; she had the gray hair and laugh lines to prove it. In other words, no competition for Veronica. Callie was convinced that’s why she’d been hired because, according to her resume, the last time Mary had been a receptionist had been during the Cold War. Thus, she was a tad bit rusty. The phone beeped again. “He says he’s a driver.” Callie’s brows lifted. “Which one?” “I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe,” Mary said using the same low and secretive voice as before. “He’s refusing to give me one.” Callie’s brows lifted even higher. Who could it be then? A local driver, perhaps? Someone with a puffed-up view of their own self worth? Wait, most drivers had high opinions of themselves despite the fact only a small percentage of them were any good. “He has dark hair and dark eyes, if that helps,” Mary added. Dark hair and dark eyes. Who on their list had dark hair and dark eyes…? She jerked in her seat.

Burning Rubber

“I’ll be right there.” She shot up from her chair so fast she about knocked it over, then rushed over to the framed poster hanging on the wall to her right—a kitten trying to hang onto a tree limb—and tucked stray hairs into her loosely coiffed bun. Wait. What was she doing? It might not even be him, him being Derrick Derringer, of course. A man such as Derrick would have called ahead of time, or had his people call them, or set up an appointment with Veronica. It was probably some local nobody who’d heard about the XRL through the grapevine. She shook her head at her foolishness and immediately turned toward her door. The scent of fresh paint immediately filled her nostrils. They had the entire top floor of the Los Angeles high-rise, although most of the offices were empty while they got XRL off the ground. It was costing Veronica a fortune for five-thousand square feet of prime real estate, but where else would they set up shop but in a city best known for its entertainment? If the league took off, cubicles and offices would be filled to capacity: marketing personnel, safety officials, IT department. For now all was quiet. The grandiose glass-walled conference room next to her office stood empty. No clackity-clack-clack of people on keyboards. No lingering smell of yesterday’s lasagna. No low-murmuring of employees on the phone. Not yet. “He’s over there,” Mary hissed when she spotted her. Callie drew up short. It was Derrick Derringer. He stood behind Mary’s desk, in front of a wall of windows which looked out over L.A.’s smoggy skies. Adonis come to life, sunlight silhouetting his frame, a black jacket and black turtleneck accentuating his perfectly tanned skin. He did something that startled her then, something strange. He shushed her with a finger and focused on Mary. “Could we go somewhere and talk?” “Ahh,” she swallowed in an attempt to lubricate her vocal chords. “Sure.” Callie glanced at Mary. The woman peered between them, her friendly face alight with curiosity. “We’ll be in the conference room.” She turned toward her office and motioned Derrick to follow her. Crap, he’s probably staring at my butt. She shouldn’t have worn pants today. She wasn’t skinny like Veronica. Her rear-end was as wide as a barge. “Here we go,” she called brightly, pushing open one of the double glass doors. What was he doing here? Why the secrecy? “Thanks.” She caught a whiff of him as he passed by. He smelled like baby soap—clean, sweet and with a hint of talc. Oh, boy.

www.samhainpublishing.com

15

Pamela Britton

“Thanks for not blowing my cover.” He pulled out a chair for her. Callie nearly stumbled at the courtly behavior. Southern charm at its best. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.” Callie sat down. He chose a chair as well. Right next to her. Callie rolled back quickly, ostensibly to give him more room to sit, but in reality, to give herself more space. It was like sitting next to a barrel of radioactive waste. She sensed danger, but couldn’t very well turn and leave the room. “Why not?” she asked. Get it together, Callie. This is one of the world’s best drivers. We need him. Badly. Quit gawking and acting like a silly teenager. “Let’s just say, I’d rather not ruffle any feathers if I don’t have to. Word might get out I was here if your receptionist knew my name.” His eyes. They weren’t brown. They were like the insides of a candy bar. Caramel and cream. Clearly she needed to eat lunch. She’d lost her mind. “I see.” She gathered up the split reins of her intellect and gave them a firm jerk. “Well, ah. How can I do it for you?” She blanched. “I mean what can I do for you?” He stared at her. Hard. Yes, that was very definitely amusement she spotted in his eyes. Callie had to resist the urge to lean back. Overhead, cool air whirred out of a duct. Callie envisioned standing on the ebony-colored table, parting her black jacket and cooling herself in front of it. Maybe if she took of her glasses and let her hair down… “…talk to you about the X-TREME Racing League.” She shook her head. Damn. She’d done it again. She’d lost focus, just like she’d done at the race track. “I, ah…” Callie’s cheeks combusted. “Wouldn’t you rather talk to Veronica?” “No.” The word was firm, sharp. He was staring at her, doing the thing with his eyes where his gaze would linger on her lips, then move back to her eyes, then to her hair, then back to her lips again. She grew more and more self-conscious as she sat there. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked suddenly, shooting up at the same time. One of his brows twitched upward. “Ah, yeah. Sure.” She bolted like a rabbit from a hole.

Nerves. Derrick waited for Callie to return to the conference room, hoping against hope she would calm down. He could tell he’d thrown her for a loop by showing up unannounced.

16

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

The glass door opened a minute later, two steaming black mugs of coffee in her hands. Those fingers trembled. Coffee vibrated against the edges of the cups like water on a stereo speaker. “I hope you like it black.” The ceramic base clinked against the glass-covered table. “I, ah…I could go get you cream and sugar.” “Black is fine.” He scooted the mug closer. The handle was still warm from her touch. “Okay, great.” Where was the spunky girl from the race track? The one who’d stood up to her boss? Who’d impressed him with her racing knowledge? Who had thrust a prospectus at him so boldly he’d had no choice but to take it? If she hadn’t done that he wouldn’t be here today, he admitted. Did she know that? “Nice offices,” he said, feeling an overwhelming need to set her at ease. He was used to women fawning all over him, or being nervous in his presence. Usually, he found it amusing. With Callie Monroe he found it endearing. She wasn’t star-struck. She was on edge. Why? Was it because she wanted him to join the X-TREME Racing League so badly? Or was it something else? Something more…basic? Attraction. “Yeah, thanks,” she muttered back. He took a sip of his coffee, watching her closely. She had a hard time meeting his gaze. So maybe it was attraction. “It’s good,” he pronounced with a smile. “Thanks.” She took a deep breath and clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “What can we do for you, Mr. Derringer?” “Derrick,” he corrected, setting his mug back down. “Derrick.” She gave him a small smile. He would bet when she grinned the corner of her eyes would crinkle. “Tell me more about the X-TREME Racing League.” “What do you want to know?” Her green eyes glowed with…what was it? Warmth? Intelligence? Wariness? All of the above, he realized. “I’d like to know about the cars we’re supposed to race. The prospectus didn’t talk a whole lot about them.” “That’s because we’re keeping that information under our hats.” “Really?” “We’re afraid of being copycatted, Mr. Derringer. Derrick,” she quickly corrected. “We only want individuals who are serious about our league to know the nitty-gritty details. We’ll go over all of that at our orientation in the Keys.” “I don’t want to wait for the orientation.” She blinked behind her glasses. “I see.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

17

Pamela Britton

Such pretty eyes. They were a startling color. Like opaque glass or marbles. “I want to know now.” If he went to their orientation it’d be all over the world of motorsports he was joining the newly formed X-TREME Racing League, even if it wasn’t true. If that happened, it might present problems with his owner. He’d rather find out now if the idea had merit. If it did…well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. “What do you want to know?” she asked again. “I want to hear about the cars I’ll be driving. Specifically, what will they look like? What sort of engines? What sort of chassis?” She almost seemed to smile. If he hadn’t been studying the unique color of her eyes he might have missed how they flared suddenly. “They’ll be patterned after this year’s model of cars. Mustangs, Cameros, Chargers. Anything goes…as long as it’s based on a car currently in production.” “No universally mandated body style?” “Nope.” He pursed his lips for a moment. “Interesting.” “Obviously, that will present a problem aerodynamically,” she explained. “But we won’t be doing anything about that, either. We refuse to be like NASCAR and so we’re going to leave it up to the teams to level the playing field.” He leaned away in surprise. She smiled. A full-fledged, wonderfully delighted smile. It transformed her face. He found himself gawking for a moment at the way her whole appearance changed. Her eyes lit with an inner light, one that set her entire face aglow. Her lips turned full. Her cheekbones popped into prominence. She went from being average to stunning…and all because of a smile. “As the prospectus states,” she went on, unaware of how he studied her anew, “we intend for this to be a no-holds-barred, anything goes kind of league. Yes, we’ll monitor each team’s body style. Like NASCAR, we’ll have templates the cars will have to conform to, but outside of the radius of that template—say if you wanted to pull the lower edge of a front fender out to give yourself an aerodynamic edge—we won’t be monitoring that.” He loved it when she talked cars. “Power train?” he asked. “Standard V-8s,” she smiled. “All we ask is that the engine blocks be made of cast iron.” Oh, yeah. She was a gear-head, all right. “Big or small?” “Big.” He loved that she knew a lot about cars. If he were honest, it was kind of a turn-on.

18

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“You’ll be given a blueprinted engine to work with, one that should be pretty competitive all on its own,” she added. “But if you want to tweak with it, we won’t care. Use whatever you can to make yourself go faster.” He rocked back in his chair, an appreciative whistle escaping his lips. “You really are patterning this off old-school racing, aren’t you?” he asked. “We are.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose. He had a sudden, completely ridiculous urge to remove those glasses. To pull the pins from her hair too. “There’s only one difference,” she added. “What’s that?” he asked, squirming in his chair because if he were honest with himself, he was stimulated in a way that took him by surprise. “The chassis you’ll be using is state-of-the-art. No expense has been spared to ensure your safety. You won’t be allowed to fabricate your own frames for that reason. You’ll need to use ours so we know you haven’t cut corners. That’s the only thing we’ll be monitoring closely—the undercarriage and frame of each car—but it’s for your own good. You’ll be going faster than ever, so if you wreck, we want to ensure you have a good chance of making it out alive.” Before he could think better of it, Derrick found himself plucking her glasses from her face. “Hey,” she cried, making a grab for the dark-brown frames. “That’s better.” He held the frames above her head. “God, why do you hide your eyes? They’re your best feature.” “Excuse me?” she asked, trying to snatch them away again. “Take your hair down.” “Ex-cuse me?” she said again. He almost laughed. He’d never in his life done something so impulsive before, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. She was like a butterfly in a jar. He wanted to shake her up a bit just to see if she’d fly. “Never mind.” He had to work even harder not to laugh. “You don’t have to do that, but I do have a proposition for you, Ms. Callie Monroe.” She finally stopped making a grab for her glasses. “What if I tell you I’ll go to your orientation in the Florida Keys, maybe even make a formal commitment to the X-TREME Racing league, if you promise me one thing in return?” She stared at him guardedly. “What?” “You,” he pronounced before he could think better of it. Her hands fell into her lap. Holy crap, what was wrong with him? He’d never had to bribe someone into seeing him before, and yet he found himself saying, “I want you to have dinner with me. In the Keys.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

19

Pamela Britton

“Mr. Derringer—” “No, no.” He stood up. “It’s Derrick, and I won’t take no for an answer. Dinner. In the Keys. If you promise me, maybe, just maybe, I’ll show up.” Because if he were honest with himself she owed him some alone time. He wasn’t some backyard driver. She should wine and dine him a little. Her mouth dropped open. He turned away. “No, wait.” He spun back to face her, having to bite back a victorious smile when he spotted the look on her face. “Just dinner?” she asked, her voice full of caution. “Yeah. We’ll talk more about the X-TREME Racing League while we eat.” That seemed to reassure her a bit. “Fine.” For a second or two he considered himself a jerk for forcing her hand, but only for a moment. It was plum crazy how badly he’d wanted her to say yes. “Terrific.” He turned away before he could do something foolish—like tell her how much he was looking forward to seeing her again.

20

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Three

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Callie glanced up at her boss, tempted to tell her she felt the same way. Dinner. Would it be tonight? She’d lost more sleep than she cared to admit over the question. At least half a dozen times she’d thought about picking up the phone and calling Derrick, but she didn’t have his contact information and she doubted he’d get the message if she simply left one at his shop. He probably had hundreds of women call him each day. “Are you sure he’s going to be here?” Veronica asked. “He said he would be,” Callie reiterated. If I agreed to have dinner with him. For a second, a brief instant, Callie allowed herself a gleeful smile—hidden from Veronica, of course. He’d asked her out, not Veronica. Actually, Callie, he blackmailed you. If she were honest, that secretly flattered her. “Well, he better show up,” Veronica pouted. They were behind the curtain of a massive stage that’d been erected in the grand ballroom of the Westford Hotel. Beyond the curtain they could hear a mass of voices, mostly male, although the odd, feminine laughter blended in every once in awhile. Drivers. From all walks of life. They’d spent the past three weeks combing the Internet for talent. Along the way they’d learned two things. Drivers responded better to the idea when presented by a man (which proved Callie’s long-held theory all men in motorsports were chauvinist pigs). Secondly, hiring a male representative to speak to prospective drivers had been the smartest move they’d ever made. Of course, it’d been Callie’s idea, although Veronica would undoubtedly say it was her own. “Have you taken a peek?” Veronica asked, her red hair glistening even in the low lighting. She wore a green shirt and form-fitting pants that managed to make her look sexy and professional at the same time. “Are any of the other drivers out there?”

Pamela Britton

The others being the stars. That’s how they’d started to refer to drivers such as Derrick Derringer and James Mattos and Rick Johnson, icons of the industry. Headliners who, quite frankly, they desperately needed as a draw for race fans. “I haven’t looked,” Callie admitted. She’d been afraid. Sure, they had dozens of local nobodies from across the country who’d agreed to come, maybe even a rising star or two, but no real headliners…unless Derrick showed up. That’s what they were hoping. Veronica knew, as Callie knew, and as their new V.P. of Public Relations, Mike Miller knew, they needed big names to attract the crowds. Desperately needed them. “I’m ready when you’re ready.” Mike gave her a confident smile. He was a big man. At least six-foot-one. As wide as he was tall. Not fat. Just big. They’d stolen the gray-haired man from the Indy Racing League—at a hefty price—but he’d been worth every penny. Even better, Mike believed in the concept of their racing league. “Well then.” Mike clapped his big-as-salad-plate hands. “Let’s get the show on the road.” He gave Veronica’s hand a squeeze. Callie was pretty certain Mike had a thing for her boss. “I’m so excited.” Veronica all but clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait either,” He gave her a reassuring smile—completely ignoring Callie—and then turned toward the opening in the black curtain. Applause erupted the moment he took the stage. The majority of people most likely knew who he was, either because Mike had recruited them or because they recognized him thanks to the Indy Racing League. Then again, perhaps they were merely being polite. Callie didn’t know. All she knew was suddenly her heart smashed against the walls of her chest like lifters in an engine head and she began to hyperventilate. This was it. The beginning of something spectacular…she could feel it in her bones. If only Derrick would show up. That would be a double-edged sword because she’d have to go to dinner with him then. Maybe. He might have changed his mind. He might not even come tonight. “Ladies and gentlemen.” Mike held up his hands. “That’s enough.” The crowd started hooting and hollering. “I know we’re all excited about this opportunity, but we have a lot of material to go over.” The crowd settled down. Through the parted curtain, Callie could spot faces in the audience. Just as she suspected. Mostly men. She scooted even closer, gazing around for the one pair of eyes in particular. He wasn’t there. Granted, the lighting in the room focused on the stage, making it difficult to identify the features of the audience, but she was pretty certain he wasn’t— The door at the far end of the room jerked open. Callie started. People turned, curious about who the latecomer was. And there he was.

22

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

The crowd, which had been slowly quieting suddenly went absolutely silent. Then a murmur broke out, people swiveled forward, heads leaned close together, more than one pair of eyes glancing back to catch a second glimpse of the five-time, year-end champion. The man most of them hoped to be one day. The man everyone in the room knew. “He’s here,” Veronica squealed. “So he is,” Callie murmured back. Did that mean dinner? “Welcome, Derrick,” Mike’s voice boomed over the PA. “Take a seat.” The driver merely sidled to the left and leaned against the back wall, barely acknowledging anyone’s presence. “Get out there and offer him a chair,” Veronica ordered. “Excuse me?” “Get him a seat,” Veronica repeated, her Army green eyes militant. “And something to drink maybe. Go. Make him feel welcome.” It was on the tip of Callie’s tongue to tell Veronica to do it herself. Honestly, her attitude had started to chafe. Callie might have been given a grandiose title—Vice President of Development—but it didn’t mean much based on the way Veronica treated her. “Sure.” Callie slipped out from behind the stage. Dozens of people followed her progress. They were probably wondering who the schmo was in the black business suit and sensible black heels. Just the moron who let Veronica Adams steal her idea and then claim it as her own. And who had agreed to have dinner with one of racing’s biggest stars. And who couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She slowed down as she approached. Really, she didn’t have a choice because just walking up to him took a lot of courage on her part. He was so…so…damn male. That was the only way to describe him, and it intimidated the hell out of her. She’d never seen a man with a more potent mix of good looks and testosterone in her life. He knew it, but she honestly didn’t think his cockiness came from being goodlooking. No. It came from being one of the best drivers in the world. That man wanted to have dinner with her. Settle down, Callie. For him, it’s just business. He turned to look at her as she approached, one side of his mouth lifting. “Hey.” He nodded, stubble turning his chin dark. Okay, this was really ridiculous, she told herself. She was a grown woman. One who should be well beyond reacting like a shy teenager when faced with a virile male. “Hey,” she yelled. Do you still want to have dinner with me?

www.samhainpublishing.com

23

Pamela Britton

She didn’t ask the question that had been hovering on the tip of her tongue for weeks. If he’d changed his mind, he’d changed his mind. She should be grateful he’d shown up anyway. Up on stage, Mike began his presentation. Callie thought about offering Derrick a chair as Veronica had instructed, but she had a feeling he’d just decline. He liked leaning against the wall, like a man surveying his kingdom. Behind Mike a screen began to flash their newly designed logo, which was nothing more than a triangular white-and-red caution sign with a giant X in the middle. Along the bottom was a red border, and, in white letters, they’d spelled X-TREME RACING. It was eye-catching, Callie had to admit, and it’d cost Veronica a fortune to have designed, no matter the simplicity. That was just it. This whole thing was going to cost a fortune to get off the ground…still. She needed Veronica like a cancer patient needed chemo—it was painful and awful and horrible to deal with, but in the end, it was worth it…or so she hoped. “Doesn’t it bug you?” he asked. Callie started. “What?” She steeled herself against looking up at him. He had tawny eyes. Now that he didn’t wear sunglasses, she could study their spectacular color. Those eyes were more gold than brown, like a peregrine falcon. “Doesn’t what bug me?” “This whole thing being pawned off as Veronica’s idea.” She jerked away from the wall. How…? Where…? “People know,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “Word’s gotten around.” “People know what?” She couldn’t believe he’d heard the truth from someone. He shrugged. “The X-TREME Racing League was your idea, an idea Veronica Adams is pawning off as her own. Not that it makes any difference whose idea it was. It’s brilliant.” Callie faced the stage again, feeling ridiculously giddy all of sudden. He knew. And he thought the idea was brilliant. “Incidentally,” he said as Mike started showing pictures of the ten different tracks where they’d be racing next year, “why didn’t you tell me you had a degree in mechanical engineering? And that, once upon a time, you applied for a job with us?” Us being Pendragon Racing. She shrugged. “What use is a degree when nobody hires you?” She kept her gaze on the projected images. One race a month, it was all they’d be doing the first year, each track in a different part of the county. They’d kick off in Monterey, California and end in the heart of stock car country—Virginia. “I would have hired you.” Callie suspected her cheeks became as bright as airport beacons. “Yeah, right.”

24

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Seriously.” He leaned toward her. “I would have.” “Forgive me if I have my doubts you would have been allowed to hire me,” she said, amazed at how easy it was to converse with him given her attraction. “That’s one of the reasons why I came up with this idea. No sexism.” “No sex?” he asked, brows arched teasingly. “Ism,” she added. “I said sex-ism.” “And I said sex.” Oh good lord. He was flirting with her. Callie almost placed a hand against the wall in an effort to support her suddenly weak knees. Did that mean…? Was he…? “Mr. Derringer.” She strived for a professional tone. “There’s a lot of information we didn’t go over in California. I encourage you to watch our presentation; you’ll learn a lot.” “I’d rather watch you.” He turned to face her. “What are you doing?” she hissed. She just couldn’t believe—she found it wildly impossible—that Derrick Derringer stared down at her with a look of interest in his eyes. “What do you think I’m doing?” he asked. A million times over the previous weeks she’d thought she’d imagined his interest in her. It struck her then that she hadn’t imagined it. She could see that now. “You’re going to get me in trouble.” Bottom line, she worked for Veronica. As much as it chaffed, as much as she hated to admit it, she had a job to do, which meant steering clear of Derrick Derringer. Somehow. “Callie,” he whispered softly. “Trouble is my middle name.” “Yeah,” she squeaked, “I’ve heard.” “What else have you heard?” he asked. She was having a hard time breathing. He smelled…he smelled like…well, he smelled nice. She pressed her hands against the wall after all. “That you love seducing women.” She tried not to stutter. “That you like to date one woman one night and then another woman the next. That you sometimes keep more than one motorcoach so the other woman is none the wiser. So if you were serious about having dinner, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.” “Who told you that?” One side of his mouth lifted in an Elvis-like manner. “I read it online.” He didn’t answer her about dinner. Damn it. He didn’t answer. He leaned closer. “Don’t believe everything you read.” “Oh, I don’t. But even if half the stuff I’ve read is true, I would be a wise woman to steer clear of you.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

25

Pamela Britton

“But you won’t do that, will you?” The words were uttered softly. She had to strain to hear him over the sound of Mike’s voice. “You promised me dinner, and I mean to collect on that debt.” Her heart seemed to combust like fuel in a piston chamber. “Oh, yeah?” She lifted her chin, realizing too late it brought their lips painfully, embarrassingly close together. “Yeah.” “You can’t force a woman to spend time with you.” “Yes, I can,” His gaze darted over her face before fixating on her lips again. Her flesh tingled—as if she anticipated his kiss. “You need me, and if you’re not nice to me, I’ll leave.” “No, you won’t.” He was putting her on. Playing with her for some strange, bizarre reason known only to himself. Maybe even toying with her. “Watch me.” He stepped away and headed for the door. “No, wait!” Callie reached for his hand. She caught it, pulled, turned him back to her. “Wait.” “For what?” Callie glanced toward the stage. Heads had turned. Mike had paused in the middle of his speech to stare at them. Veronica spotted them too. Even across a darkened room, Callie saw her standing there, near the edge of the black curtain, eyes glittering. “Don’t leave.” He was their only headliner. She couldn’t afford to have him walk out. They needed him too badly. Maybe she could humor him for a little bit. Make him think she was all for a little tryst, because there was no way he was getting more than that. Not only would Veronica have a fit, but she didn’t take kindly to be man-handled. “I’ll have dinner with you.” “A private dinner,” he said. “Just you and me. No inviting Mike to join us. And definitely not that barracuda in heels over there.” He pointed with his chin toward the stage. “All I want is the woman who conceived the idea of the X-TREME Racing League. Alone. In my room. Is that clear?” She nodded, straightened her shoulders, facing him bravely despite the fact her heart seemed about ready to somersault from her chest. “Good.” He took her silence for acquiescence. Only when he turned away did Callie realize she still held his hand. He must have realized it too, because he instantly turned back, glancing down at their entwined fingers as if surprised to see them there. “Sorry.” She released him. He stood there for a moment. “I’m not.” Then he looked deep into her in the eyes. “Tonight,” he repeated, stepping away. “Room 1682. Six o’clock.”

26

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Four

She was scared. And pissed. A part of Derrick knew he should feel guilty about that, maybe even embarrassed, but damned if he did. For once in his life, he was the one doing the chasing, and to be perfectly honest, it turned him on in a way he hadn’t felt since…well, since before he was Derrick Derringer, racing legend. He pushed away from the meeting room Veronica-what’s-her-name had reserved for the inaugural XTREME Racing League meeting, but it was strange. As he walked down a wide hallway and toward a bank of elevators, his feet hardly making a sound thanks to the dark maroon carpet, he found himself wishing he’d stayed around for a bit. He’d been intrigued by what he’d seen so far. Callie’s brainchild actually had him excited. Was that why he found her attractive? ’Cause, to be honest, she wasn’t his type. Not even close. Despite that, he couldn’t deny she caused his body to get as jacked up as it was when he tested a new car. Edgy, exhilarated. He spent the next few hours prowling the hotel’s grounds. They’d picked a humdinger of a hotel. The management had obviously worked hard to make the interior of the place look as lush as the tropical paradise that been cultivated around the exterior. Outside, palm trees and other tropical-looking plants seemed to shield guests from the world beyond. The whole place seemed designed to give guests privacy. Inside, potted plants sprouted forth, some in waist-high maroon-colored pots, others in tiny things, but all placed together strategically so they resembled an oasis of foliage. Dark, earthy green tiles blanketed the lobby area, the same deep red carpet he’d noted outside the meeting room covering the floor wherever there wasn’t tile. Dark brown and crimson-striped couches offered a comfortable place for guests to relax. They were all over the place. Against walls, in private alcoves, directly across from the reception area. Derrick wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t a place where powerful men took their mistresses for weekend trysts. He doubted he’d be recognized, given he seemed to be the only guest in residence, a carefully cultivated illusion. When six o’clock neared, he couldn’t keep a smile from his face. He had a bet with himself. Part of him wagered she wouldn’t show up. The other half of him wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t open the door only to be slapped upside the face. Either way, it’d be interesting. She wasn’t waiting for him outside his hotel room door, and a stab of disappointment sluiced through him. Granted, it was still five minutes before the hour, but he’d pegged her as the type to be early.

Pamela Britton

The elevator door binged. He glanced toward the end of the hall, his smile growing bigger when he spotted a harried-looking Callie stepping from between the polished doors. She lugged a suitcase of some sort behind her, the kind on wheels momentarily snagged on the space between the elevator shaft and the hotel floor. He heard her curse, watched her turn back. Derrick crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against the wall as he watched. Her cute little derrière jutted out when she bent over to fix the problem. What was it about her? Their gazes slammed together the minute she turned around. He watched as she stumbled a bit. Observed as she regained her composure, pushed her glasses back up her nose, before confidentially striding forward again. That was it. She didn’t like him. Perhaps she didn’t trust him. Whatever it was, it turned him on. “I was thinking you wouldn’t come.” “You thought wrong,” the eyes behind her glasses glittering. Those eyes were spectacular. They weren’t green as much as gray with a starburst of emerald around the pupil. Sometimes green, sometimes not. Right now they were light green, especially with light shining through them. Intelligent light. Impatient light. She stared at the handle of the door, her meaning obvious. Open it, please. He had to bite back a smile, and he stayed right where he was, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed, the way she licked her lips…especially the way she did that. “You really want to talk about race cars?” he asked, slowly pushing away from the wall. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to face him bravely. “What else would I be here for?” She knew exactly what, and damned if it didn’t turn him on that she didn’t just melt into his arms like most women did. “I don’t know.” He sidestepped her computer case, placing a hand against the wall. She was trapped. “We could do something else in there.” He leaned toward her. Would she move before he could kiss her, he thought, leaning even closer, his eyes never leaving hers. Would she let their lips connect? He tried to read her eyes, something made more difficult by her glasses. Tried to figure out if it was all an act. If she was playing hard to get. He tipped closer. She drew back, her stare unblinking. “Don’t you dare,” she warned softly. “Don’t I dare what?” Almost there. “Kiss me.” “Okay.” He closed the distance. And got a heel ground into his toes. “Ouch!”

28

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

She darted beneath his arm. “I warned you.” She used her computer case as a shield. “Why you little—” She’d gotten him right on the big toe and it throbbed like a mother. “I can’t believe you did that.” “Next time maybe you’ll heed my warning.” “Next time?” he cried. “Baby, there won’t be a next time.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “Did you just call me baby?” She took a step toward him. “I mean, seriously, did you really just call me baby?” What was wrong with her? “Yes.” “Forget it. I can see that I’m wasting my time here.” She turned on her toe-mashing heel and headed toward the bank of elevators, the wheels of her suitcase making a whirring sound she moved so quickly. “Hey,” he called. “Wait.” She kept on walking. “Don’t you want to talk about your cars?” She turned back for a quick second, long enough to say, “Not if it means being pawed by you.” “Excuse me?” She’d reached the elevators already, and wouldn’t you know it, the same car she’d ridden up in was right where she left it. The damn door opened the instant she pressed the button. “See ya, Derrick Derringer.” He didn’t even have time to give chase. The doors closed behind her and an instant later she was gone. “Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered softly. Round one to Callie Monroe.

“Stupid idiot,” Callie muttered, pushing her glasses back up her nose—a nervous habit of hers, she admitted. “Jerk. Piece of—” “Who’s a stupid idiot?” Callie jumped back from the door of her room, nearly dropping the entry card in the process. “And what are you doing back already?” “Veronica,” Callie managed to wheeze out. “You scared me.” “And you didn’t answer my question.” Veronica sauntered toward her, the door that connected her suite to Callie’s tiny sleeping quarters wide open. “I thought you were meeting with Derrick.” “I was—did,” Callie quickly answered. “It was short.” The room was covered in plush, brown carpet, Veronica’s heels muffled by the four-ply. “Hmm. Why do I have a feeling you’re not telling me something?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

29

Pamela Britton

Because Veronica was good at reading people. She had a knack for knowing when Callie wasn’t being honest—like the time Callie had accidentally hung up on Mike Miller the first time he’d called. Veronica had known the disconnect wasn’t the phone company’s fault. Callie didn’t know how she knew— she just did. “I have no idea why that is.” Be brave. Don’t let her see you sweat. The last thing she needed was for Veronica to smell blood. “I’m tired, Veronica. And under a lot of stress. Maybe that’s it.” “Then what did Derrick say?” I was thinking you wouldn’t come. Callie was almost certain he’d put extra emphasis on the last word. Come. The jerk had been trying to make her uncomfortable. “He’s not interested.” She wheeled her briefcase into a corner and kicked off her shoes. They landed with a thud against the wall. “We’ll have to look for another big fish.” She shrugged out of her jacket next, wishing Veronica would leave. She really was tired. The last few weeks had been hell. “I don’t believe it.” Veronica plopped down in a chair near the room’s only window. Behind her the sun had begun to set, Callie wishing she could enjoy the view outside her fourth-story room. Alas, no. Veronica sat in the chair like a queen surveying her subjects. She still wore the sleek, black pencil pants from their big meeting downstairs, and the same mint-green blouse that illuminated her complexion in a flattering way. “How could he say no?” she asked imperiously. The same way she’d said no to him, Callie almost replied, pulling the pins out of her hair. The whole mass fell across her shoulders. Then, out of nowhere, came the urge to laugh. The look on his face when she’d stomped on his toe… “What?” Veronica’s red hair swished over one shoulder and Callie noticed that the strands were the same color as the sunset behind her. She probably paid hundreds of dollars for that effect while Callie’s fell in a scraggly, uninspired mess around her own shoulders. “What’s so funny?” Leave it to Veronica to spot the tell-tale sign of a smile. “I think I’m giddy.” Veronica’s red brows drew up, but something near her toes must have caught her attention because Callie watched as the pampered redhead drew her foot closer, apparently dissatisfied with the pedicure she’d spotted between the straps of her five-hundred-dollar heels. Callie wanted to cry then. She couldn’t imagine having the time to get a pedicure. Well, she could, but it seemed like a far-off dream. “Just as long as you keep it together through tomorrow,” Veronica muttered distractedly. They’d scheduled private meetings with a few of the drivers. Any lingering questions would be addressed then. Callie couldn’t wait. Yeah, right.

30

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Was there something you needed?” Callie wished she could peel off her pantyhose. They were making her legs itch. It made her want to take a shower. Instead she had to stand there while Veronica surveyed her up and down, her green eyes dimming in such a way Callie knew she’d found her appearance lacking. No doubt she’d get the you-need-to-dress-better speech in the not-too-distant future, as well as the I-really-wish-you’d-buy-some-contact-lenses spiel. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the blood, sweat and tears she’d put into this whole venture, Callie would have quit a long time ago. “No.” Veronica jerked her head in impatience. “I just wanted to see how your meeting went. We need Derrick Derringer and I am severely disappointed by your inability to land him.” She could have landed him in bed. The thought plopped into her head, unbidden, but there. A Looney Tunes laugh tried to squeeze past her lips. She clamped it back. “I’ll try harder next time.” Veronica leaned back, her legs kicked out in front of her, hands resting on the armrests. “There won’t be a next time, Callie. You need to land him now. This weekend. He’s the only big fish we’ve got.” That wasn’t true. There were a few other household names they were pursuing, some even seemed interested. But none of them had shown up today. “You need to sign him now. Tonight.” “Veronica—” “No. I don’t want to hear it. I want you to go find him. Tell him we’ll do whatever he wants to get him signed. Anything.” Her laughter had faded. In its place sat a huge ball of resignation and depression that stretched so deep, she felt it weigh down her shoulders. Come on, Callie, pull it together. You’ve dealt with far worse. Like her dad dying. And less than a year after that, her mother. Nothing, but nothing, could ever be as bad as all that. She lifted her chin, threw her shoulders back, looked Veronica in the eye. Callie knew from experience it didn’t matter how long she tried to plead her case, Veronica wouldn’t leave her alone…or her room. The woman had the tenacity of a gopher. It was far simpler to appear compliant rather than waste the energy of trying to argue with her, and right now Callie didn’t have any energy to spare. “Fine.” “Go,” Veronica ordered with an imperious wave of her red-lacquered nails. With any luck, Callie could find a quiet corner of the hotel, camp out, and maybe get some rest. She slipped her shoes back on, grabbed the handle of her briefcase and turned for the door. She didn’t bother with her jacket. Or her hair. Who cared what she looked like? Well, Veronica probably did, but oh well.

www.samhainpublishing.com

31

Pamela Britton

“Let me know how it goes,” Veronica called out. Uh huh. Sure. She’d call her first thing in the morning. Better yet, she could rent another room. Some place far from Veronica. Buoyed by the thought, she swung her hotel door wide. And ran smack into Derrick.

32

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Five

Derrick had just enough time to jump back. “Holy crap,” he heard her say. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Who’s there?” someone called out behind her. “Uh, nobody, Veronica” Callie called. “Someone from room service just scared me half to death. That’s all. Bye.” “Room service?” Derrick asked in a low voice, understanding dawning. She didn’t even respond, just hooked an arm through his, her rolling suitcase nearly clocking him in the leg as she dragged him away from her door. “Hurry up. Before she gets suspicious.” He almost dug in his heels, might have done exactly that except he had no more desire to run into Veronica the Pirahnica than Callie did. So he allowed her to lead him toward an exit sign, Derrick somewhat amused to note it was the stairwell. “Should I break the glass?” he asked when they passed a fire extinguisher. “Huh?” She followed his gaze. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “If she decides to follow.” The door slammed closed behind them with a crash which echoed down the stairwell. He watched as Callie all but threw her suitcase behind her, the arm she’d hooked through his elbow slipping away as she clasped the stairwell railing. “Come on.” “Wait,” he called, the two of them on eye-level now, Callie having paused on the top step. It smelled like ozone and rubber in the tiny corridor. He peered over the edge of the railing. The dizzying descent gave him vertigo for a moment. “You’re going to break your neck if you don’t slow down, especially lugging that suitcase behind you.” “It’s not a suitcase. It’s my briefcase.” He watched as she glanced behind him, froze for a moment, as if listening for sound. Apparently satisfied, her gaze landed back on him again. “What were you doing outside my room?” She looked different. No buttoned up jacket. No tightly pinned hair. Pretty in a sexy librarian kind of way. “You look good with your hair down. Just like I thought you would.”

Pamela Britton

She quickly reached for the strands, as if contemplating the notion of bundling it all back up again and securing it up on her head. “Did you need something?” she asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “I wanted to apologize.” Her face rearranged itself into an expression of surprise. Her lips parted softly, her chameleon eyes widened behind her glasses, and he noticed she truly was pretty in a different sort of way. He couldn’t pin his finger on what it was that he found attractive. Right now, she had the same color eyes as her boss, and yet hers seemed softer. Kinder. More full of life. “I was way out of line earlier.” “Yes, you were.” She tipped her chin up, the lenses of her glasses catching the fluorescent light. “You’re cute,” he admitted. “And I guess I just figured—” “I’d be quick to jump into bed with you.” “Something like that.” “Even though I made it clear I was not pleased by your autocratic demands.” He shrugged. “A lot of women play hard to get.” Her brown brows lifted. “But they don’t really mean it.” She seemed to be studying him, and the gleam in her eyes was the same one he’d seen in his chief engineer’s eyes when he studied an engine block that’d failed. “So you think.” “Pardon me?” He was so befuddled by the look of anger and disappointment in her eyes that he almost missed her words. “How do you know they don’t really mean it?” “Because I always end up in bed with them.” He splayed his hands. “It’s a game. They know it. I know it. Hell, I’m so used to women pretending they don’t really want to go to bed with me that I assumed you were playing the same game.” “So you blackmailed me into meeting with you.” He found himself shrugging again. “I assumed the outcome would be the same as it always was. You were just better at hiding your true intentions than most.” She stared at him for a moment, her face slowly swinging from side to side. “Unbelievable.” “When I realized my mistake I thought about dropping the matter. Maybe even flying home tonight. One thing stopped me.” The swinging stopped. Her thick brown hair fell to one side as she titled her head. “And what was that?” “I’m really intrigued with the racing series you’ve conceptualized.”

34

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

If he were honest, he was also a bit baffled by Callie Monroe herself. She appeared smart, yet she’d partnered with Valerie Adams. She’d conceived the idea for the X-TREME Racing League, yet she’d kept it a secret. Most of all, she needed a big-name driver to help launch the series. In a word, she needed him…yet she’d just turned him down cold even though most women of his acquaintance would have jumped at the chance, and that wasn’t ego talking, it was the damn truth. Callie appeared ready to push him down the stairs if he made another wrong move. “Very well,” she sniffed. “Apology accepted.” He waited for her to smile. To open those pretty little lips of hers and begin her X-TREME Racing League spiel. She said nothing. “Did you want to tell me about it?” “About what?” He couldn’t be certain, but he was almost positive she knew exactly what he referred to. That she knew well and good he asked about her brainchild, but that she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Score another one for her. “I’d like to see what you’ve got, Callie. In that briefcase,” he added in case she thought he meant something else. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, as if she contemplated turning him down, or maybe questioning his motives again, but in the end she had to have recognized he had a point—she needed him. He couldn’t wait to find out just how far she would go to satisfy that need.

She insisted they use the stairwell. The last thing Callie needed was to run into Veronica in the hallway, because as far-fetched as it seemed, that would be just her luck. So she listened to the thud-ump of her briefcase wheels on the concrete steps beneath them, Derrick’s own steps muffled by the noise. He wanted more information on the X-TREME Racing League. She should be overjoyed, but Callie couldn’t help but feel a healthy dose of skepticism. She’d done a miserable job at reading Derrick’s true intentions. He’d actually thought she’d wanted to jump into bed with him. Hah. As if she’d be interested in a one-night stand with a man like him. Who was she kidding? The whole way back to her room she’d been secretly giddy he’d tried to kiss her. Once the shock had worn off, it’d been all she could do not to laugh. That was why she’d wanted to cackle like a mad woman in front of Veronica. Derrick had all but blackmailed her into appearing at his room…because he’d wanted to bed her. Her. Plain-faced, glasses-wearing, pudgy Callie Monroe. Not Veronica. “Slow down there, hot shot.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

35

Pamela Britton

It had changed everything. Before she’d been able to look at Derrick like a diamond ring behind a wall of bullet proof glass. Something she’d never have but she could admire from afar, but the fact was she could’ve had him—if she’d been the type to jump into bed with a near stranger—well, that was heady stuff. They made her way to the lobby level, his presence behind her like the proverbial elephant in the room. Would he have really done it? Would he have slept with her? Did she dare to believe he found her attractive? It was like standing on a teeter-totter. One wrong move and she might tumble down the rabbit hole. “Here we are,” she said in a sing-song voice. What a relief. She hated knowing he was behind her, wondering if he watched her, to have to resist the urge to glance back. The stairwell’s exit placed them in a secluded section of the hotel. Potted palms shielded them from the view of other guests. Windows stretched along the wall to her left, Callie glanced outside and immediately decided to head out of doors. She needed fresh air. “Come on.” He was like a drug. Heady to her system, and she absolutely needed to ignore the fact that she found him devastatingly attractive. God, if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit to having a crush on Derrick Derringer for years. Maybe even half a decade, but she didn’t want to think about that. Not when she was trying to sign him for the X-TREME Racing League, and not when she’d considered the possibility of being kissed by him about as remote as finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. All that had changed. Florida’s steamy heat assaulted her skin the moment she opened a side door. Worse, it fogged up her glasses. She wiped at the lenses surreptitiously, embarrassed and hoping Derrick hadn’t spotted the moisture. What a geek. She had no idea where she was going, but she didn’t care. She needed to put some distance between them. Regain her equilibrium. Sell him on the X-TREME Racing League. That was the goal here, not to think about his lips against hers. “How’s over there look to you?” she asked, pointing to an area where hotel management had set up some wrought-iron tables with dark-green umbrellas sprouting up from the middle. “Looks fine to me.” His Southern drawl poured down her spine like maple syrup. Stop it. Now was not the time to act like a pubescent teenager with a high-school crush. She had to pull herself together. To focus. She turned, making the mistake of meeting his gaze before she sat down at the table. His eyes were the color of pralines. Soft. Sweet. Tempting. Stop. It.

36

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“All right. Let me see if I can find a plug. I think my laptop battery is low.” It wasn’t. She just needed time to compose herself. Her hands shook. She’d turned clumsy. Had lost her breath. It occurred to her that she might be on the verge of her very first panic attack. Easy, Callie. You can do this. Fortunately, an outlet was nearby. She managed to insert the cord into the wall without making a fool of herself in some hitherto unimaginable way. When she straightened from her task, she found herself wishing for her jacket. She was exposed to his view, the ends of her white blouse tucked into her waistline. As a result, the size of her hips was perfectly emphasized. She had big breasts. It was her one asset, if one wanted to call big boobs an asset. Usually she kept them well hidden. Suddenly they seemed the size of Mount Everest as she took a seat across from him, something compounded by the fact that she caught him staring at them. “Ahem,” she coughed, clearing her throat. “Let me pull up the presentation.” “You should wear your hair down more often.” She refused to meet his gaze, knew she couldn’t because if she did, he might spot the way his comment had affected her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop the swipe of red which bloomed up her neck and into her face. “Here it is.” She clicked on a button. “It’ll take a second to load.” She locked her eyes on her computer monitor, fiddling with her keyboard as if she were still in the process of loading the document. She wasn’t, but he didn’t know that. Her screen concealed her fingers from his view. “You don’t wear makeup, do you?” She gulped, marveled for a moment. Derrick Derringer sat across from her. He’d noticed she didn’t wear makeup. He’d kissed her earlier. “No,” she answered absently, pretending indifference. “I don’t.” “I like that.” She couldn’t stop her eyes from latching onto his. “Yeah, terrific.” As retorts went, it wasn’t all that great. “I think I’ll skip the intro. We went over a lot of that in California.” She clicked a few more buttons. “Here we go, the piece I really wanted you to see, and the part of the presentation that generated a lot of buzz. This is the chassis I designed.” Staring at the familiar schematic, admiring its sleek lines, the aerodynamic edge she hoped to give the drivers, well, it took her breath away. To an outsider it would look like a mishmash of pipes connected to four tires. The spot where the engine would go was blank. The motor she’d helped to develop would be illustrated on another page. She focused on her pride and joy.

www.samhainpublishing.com

37

Pamela Britton

“As you can see, it’s different than your Cup chassis. We focused more on driver safety since you’re expected to exceed the mandated speeds affiliated with stock car racing. So I’ve added extra bracing in several strategic areas.” She pointed to the cockpit area. “Here and here—” “Wait. You designed this?” This time it wasn’t hard to meet his gaze, and the look he gave her… “Is that so hard to believe?” He gaped at her. Callie almost laughed, but her amusement quickly turned into a frown. Did he not believe she had a degree in engineering? If he’d been checking her credentials surely he’d heard about her desire to re-vamp a stock car chassis? Then again, she’d never really been given an opportunity to show off those skills and so how could he know? “Not only did I design the chassis, but I designed the engine also.” He seemed dumfounded. She leaned in close to him. “And I promise you, Derrick, my designs will make you go faster than you’ve ever been in your life.”

38

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Six

Derrick had a hard time looking away from her. The lenses of her glasses were still moist from the humid air, but he found it kind of endearing. As he stared into her eyes he finally figured out what it was about their green depths he found so attractive. They shone with intelligence. The realization damn near knocked him on his ass. He’d been so busy bedding whatever woman came his way—and that was a lot of women thanks to his celebrity status—that he’d stopped caring if they had two brain cells to rub together. “I mentioned the engine blocks when we met in California,” she was saying, clicking on a button before turning her laptop toward him again. “But I didn’t mention the changes I made to the design of the block. I’ll be honest, I stole a lot of this from Jaguar. Well, not stole, exactly—just…borrowed—with a few tweaks of my own. So you’ll notice that I moved the valve train a bit…” He was mesmerized. Light danced behind the lenses of her glasses. Pride, excitement and a whole host of other emotions transformed her face from being merely average to something close to stunning. “So you think you’ll gain how many extra horsepower?” he heard himself ask. “Fifty, maybe one hundred.” She pushed the frames back up her nose. “Which, as I’m sure you know, is a significant gain—and all with the same sized block as the one you’re used to using. It’s all in the way I’ve engineered the power train.” What was he going to do about this? He’d already made it pretty obvious he wanted to sleep with her, but she’d turned him down flat. Frankly, his big toe still throbbed. So if a straightforward assault didn’t work, maybe he could coax her into his bed. He leaned back, liking the idea. She seemed completely oblivious to his scrutiny, her pretty green eyes darting over the screen as she pointed out various improvements. She had freckles. Not a lot, but enough that he found himself wondering what they’d taste like. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d kissed a woman on the cheek without tasting her makeup. He would bet she had sweet skin. Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, clasped her hands. “Have dinner with me.” Subtle, Derringer. Real subtle. Eyes made bigger by the lenses of her glasses widened. “Excuse me.” “We got off on the wrong foot.” “Foot being the operative word,” she quipped.

Pamela Britton

“Yeah. Something like that.” He hadn’t let go of her hand, wondered what she’d do if he lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. No. It was too soon to do that. She’d take some wooing, this one. The thought filled him with anticipation. “Derrick, I’m flattered you’d like to spend time with me—” “But you don’t think it’s a good idea,” he finished for her, releasing her fingers. She pulled her hand back. “I’m glad you understand.” “Actually, I don’t. You work for X-TREME Racing. I drive for Double T Racing. What’s the problem with the two of us dating?” She blushed again. Even though they were quickly losing the evening light, he spotted the color which spread across her cheeks. “You want to date me.” She was flattered. She might try to hide the fact from him, but she betrayed herself with her expressive eyes. “I do, Callie,” he said softly, using every weapon in his arsenal to sway her to his side. “You fascinate me.” She blinked a few times, and when she met his gaze again he could tell he’d blown it. He’d laid it on too thick. “Thank you.” Her tone was cool. “I’m flattered, but I think we both know I’m not your type.” “No?” Her gaze darted away for a second and he knew she was recalling the moment right after his lips had connected with her. The moment when she’d softened for a moment, an instant really, but long enough. “You felt like my type earlier.” She closed the lid of her laptop, not quickly, but deliberately, her movements carefully controlled. He knew better. He could read her discomfort like he could the contours of a race track. “I think this meeting is over.” She unplugged the power cord from the back of her computer. “If you’re interested in driving for the X-TREME Racing League we’d love to have you at a test session next month. Worse case we could really use your input.” She bent, unzipped her computer bag, pulled something out before straightening again. Her pretty hair had fallen over one shoulder. “This is the presentation I was attempting to go over with you. Flip through it if you have the time. I think you’ll find we’ve covered all the bases.” “Callie.” She bent again, slipped her computer inside her case. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Derringer.” She got up from her chair and turned toward the wall plug. He got up too, and he could tell he’d surprised her when she turned back around, cord in hand.

40

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” “You don’t scare me.” He could tell that was a lie. Her eyes were wider than normal. Her chest rose and fell with greater and greater frequency. He closed the distance between them, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why he pushed the issue. That wasn’t his style. “How much is my cooperation worth?” The lashes flared wide before they narrowed. “If you’re inferring what I think you’re inferring, forget it. I’m not some kind of whore.” “I wasn’t inferring that at all.” Or had he been? “I meant, how much money do I stand to make if I join your series?” He took another tiny step closer with the words. “That’s in the prospectus. Page twelve. It’s a list of the races we’ve already scheduled and the purses we’ll be offering.” “I’m not talking about my winnings. Judging by the faces in that room, you don’t have anybody worth a damn willing to race for you.” “That remains to be seen.” She tilted her chin up and looked for all the world like a sexy lawyer in her dark-brown glasses. He leaned toward her. They were inches apart now, Derrick able to smell her milk-and-honey skin. It turned him on. Reminded him of the old days, back in high school when he used to have to work to gain a woman’s attention. “We might have any number of people jump on board before the start of the season.” “But nobody who’s won as many championships as me. Or fans of me. Admit it. You need me to help fill those grandstands of yours.” She didn’t move, didn’t blink, just held his gaze. “Yes, we do.” Her honesty was as heady as a drug. “You need me.” He shifted slightly so that their bodies nearly touched. “I won’t deny that.” Her lashes flickered behind her glasses. When viewed this closely, her eyes were truly gorgeous. “So how much is it worth to you?” he asked again. “We’re not going down that road again, are we?” “What road?” “Insisting I have dinner with you.” “That was a mistake,” he pronounced quickly. “A misunderstanding. I thought your interest in me was personal.” It was personal. She might stand there trying to appear cool as a cucumber, but he could tell his close proximity had an effect on her. Him as well, damn it. He’d begun to grow rock hard. “Then what do you have in mind?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

41

Pamela Britton

You. In bed. For a weekend. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but as much as he wanted to say them, he knew he couldn’t. “I’ll show up at your test…” “And?” “You’ll be mine.” Her eyes flared. “Not in that way,” he said even though that’s exactly what he was thinking. “I want your undivided attention again. Like I have here. Just you and me. No Veronica. No media. Nobody but you and me at your trial run.” “Impossible. An engineer needs to be there in case we have problems with the car. A crew chief too. Pit crew. Timers. Someone to haul the car to the track.” “Not true. I’ve tested plenty of cars with only a crew chief and a few other people. Just bring in the necessary bodies. I can shake the bugs out myself.” “Why?” she asked. “Because I don’t want to deal with Veronica and a huge contingent of people around. Frankly, the fewer people who know about my presence the better. The last thing I need is for my owner to catch wind of this.” She hadn’t moved an inch. Faced off with him bravely despite the pulse beating at her neck. She challenged him. How long would it take him to get her into his bed? Would he be able to get her there? “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll see if I can arrange it.” “No trying,” he warned. “Either we do this privately or not at all.” Her eyes glittered, he watched as her lips pressed together before she gritted out, “As you wish.” He leaned as close as he dared. “I’ll see you soon, Callie.” Her chest rose and fell, faster and faster, evidence of her interest in him, but not by word or deed did she give the game away. Good for her. “Good bye, Derrick.” She turned away from him, clutching the handle of her briefcase as if she might bash him over the head with it should he try to kiss her again. He very nearly laughed. This would be interesting, he thought as he watched her walk away. Very interesting, indeed.

“Stupid, domineering, over-sexed man,” Callie grumbled as she walked away. He’d been toying with her back there. He’d known she wasn’t as immune to him as she claimed. He hadn’t bedded thousands of

42

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

women not to learn a thing or two. Well, all right, maybe not thousands, but she would bet he’d slept with more women than a Serta mattress. She refused to be the next name on the list. Her briefcase clipped her in the heels as she jerked the wheels over a door jamb. God willing Veronica would be gone. Maybe she really should get her own room. Alas, they were completely booked, dread dragging Callie’s shoulders down as she turned away from the reception desk. She didn’t think she could take any more today. What she needed was rest. She knew the moment she opened the door she was doomed. The smell of Veronica’s perfume assaulted her nose, but it wasn’t until she faced the woman that Callie realized she was in trouble. “You didn’t tell me Derrick had a thing for you.” Callie glanced behind her boss. She stood in front of the window again. The sun had set and so she was outlined in shadow. Like Darth Vader in front of a portal of stars. “Excuse me?” Callie asked, not because she hadn’t heard her boss, but because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Derrick didn’t have a thing for her. Not really. He’d been willing to boink her because she’d been conveniently handy. That’s all. “I saw him down there with you.” So that was it. Veronica had been spying. “Then you saw we had a meeting together,” Callie pronounced bravely. Lord, she hated being such a coward. If she had half a spine she’d tell Veronica to get lost, that she was merely doing her job. Instead she stopped in front of her, hoping against hope Veronica wasn’t about to embark upon one of her infamous tirades. “What I saw was Derrick Derringer inches away from you.” “We were trying to keep our voices down,” Callie lied. She hated lying. Despised it. Sometimes, however, it was necessary where Veronica was concerned. Lying could keep Veronica from leaping into a fit of rage, and Callie could tell by the look in her glittering green eyes that Veronica was seriously disturbed—in more ways than one. “You know. In case one of the other drivers heard us talking.” Veronica sauntered forward, stopping only inches away. She crossed her arms in front of her, flicking her long amber hair over one shoulder again. “About what?” “About the deal I offered him.” Callie could tell she was making headway. “What deal?” “I, ah…I offered him a private test session. Just me and him and a few necessary people. No spectators. No media. No curious bystanders. I told him he could pilot a car in complete privacy. You know, so he can see for himself if he likes it without anyone finding out.” A red brow crept up Veronica’s face like a poisonous snake. “You came up with that idea all by yourself?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

43

Pamela Britton

The barometric pressure that was Callie’s temper began to rise. Okay, so Derrick had been the one to propose the idea. So what? Was it really so hard to believe she might have come up with it on her own? Did Veronica think so little of her? She did. From the time they’d first met, Callie had been made to feel like a lackey. She suspected Veronica’s holier-than-thou attitude was related to the zeros in her bank account. Never mind that Veronica had inherited her silver spoon. Veronica acted as if she were single-handedly responsible for the Adams’ wealth and that she, Callie, was nothing but a peon. “He’s coming to the test session, Veronica. As a favor to me.” Callie reasoned it was partly the truth. “But he doesn’t want anyone there, including you.” “Ridiculous.” “That’s the deal.” Veronica’s eyes glittered briefly. She eyed Callie up and down, the little huff of…amusement? Was that what she’d heard? Laughter? Whatever it was, Callie could tell Veronica had silently reassured herself Callie was no competition. “It’s a ridiculous request, but I suppose I’m too busy to attend the test session in Missouri anyway.” So that’s how she would spin this. Figured. “Well, then.” She pasted a smile on her face so false, Callie thought that Veronica should consider a career in politics. “I guess congratulations are in order, Good job, Callie.” “Thank you.” Callie lifted her chin not because of her accomplishment. No. She faced her boss proudly because Derrick had wanted her. He’d made a pass at her, not Veronica. Her boss’s eyes narrowed. “Just remember what Derrick Derringer is to you.” She leaned down. “A client. Nothing more.” Unless she wanted him to be more. The way Veronica stared down at her, Callie might take Derrick up on his offer…just to spite her boss.

44

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Seven

The next month passed in a blur, Callie spending the time finalizing the plans for what she liked to call the X-TREME Machine and, of course, being Veronica’s slave. They were still running full bore toward a February kick-off race next year, and much to Callie’s delight, interest had begun to grow. The drivers who’d attended their orientation had spread the word. The X-TREME league wasn’t a fly-by-night organization. They were the real deal and both driver and fans—yes, they had fans already thanks to social networking—were starting to get excited. The pressure was enormous. Not only had Callie been put in charge of all their day-to-day operations, she’d been the one to finalize all the engineering schematics on their new cars. They’d heard nothing from Derrick after an initial string of voice mails while they’d worked out a few of the details, and that suited Callie just fine. Inevitably, however, with every rise and fall of the sun, the day when she would see him again drew nearer. Even though he’d wanted it otherwise, Derrick had agreed to come in before the other drivers—three days before. Callie had been afraid if he came in afterward some lingering member of the press would catch wind of his arrival. Even so, there were no guarantees someone wouldn’t alert the media about his presence. So Callie had deduced a cover story. Derrick was a long-time friend, she’d claim. He’d offered to do her a favor by working out the bugs on her new car. “What time is your flight out?” A slash of Veronica’s red hair fell across one shoulder like a bloody knife as she poked her head into Callie’s office. As occurred more and more often of late, an instant bubble of resentment welled up inside of her. Veronica spent her days dashing between shopping dates with her mother and trips to this exotic city or that. Now that they’d hired Mike to take over marketing, Veronica seemed to think her only task was making the occasional appearance at their offices. Easy, Callie, Veronica’s paying the bills. That was great too. What Callie didn’t like, what set her teeth on edge every time, were all the articles and interviews Callie read or watched that detailed Veronica’s hard work to get her idea off the ground. Veronica’s X-TREME Racing League. Veronica’s brain child. Veronica’s blood sweat and tears (according to one recent on-line interview). It made Callie sick. “This afternoon. Around four. I want to be there first thing in the morning to oversee the unloading of the cars.” She’d be there a day ahead of Derrick’s arrival, plenty of time to get things set up.

Pamela Britton

“I still don’t understand why he insisted I stay away.” Because he couldn’t stand Veronica’s attitude, or her obnoxious it’s-all-about-me persona or her cloying ways. Just a guess. “Don’t know.” Callie shrugged. “The annoying man won’t even return my calls.” Callie’s mood lifted. “He can be tough to get a hold of.” Veronica’s head cocked to one side as she slipped into Callie’s office. It made her already shoulderlength hair look even longer. She must have had it touched up recently because it appeared blonder than normal. Stunning. That was the word to describe her in her designer business suit that consisted of a short black jacket and narrow skirt that helped to emphasize her long, long legs. “Are you nervous?” Veronica asked. Terrified. “Not really,” she lied. “We’ve hired a pretty talented group of mechanics to keep things running smoothly.” Both men and women. That was something Callie had insisted upon. There would be no gender-bias in the X-TREME league, another pet name of hers. All were welcome. “Let’s hope Derrick doesn’t get killed driving one of our cars.” Way to think positive. Callie stood up abruptly. “He won’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be on my way. My flight leaves in three hours and I still need to go home and pack.” Veronica stepped back from the door as Callie collected her things, but her boss didn’t impart any words of wisdom when Callie tried to brush past. Oh, no. What she did was reach out and grab Callie’s arms. “We have a lot riding on this.” Her voice sounded like the snap of a bull whip. “Things better go well…” She left her words hanging, but Callie didn’t need her to fill in the blanks. “Don’t worry, Veronica. I’ve taken care of everything.” Callie knew she’d emphasized “I” just a little too much, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself—not that Veronica appeared to notice. Her boss released her. Callie brushed past. “I’ll see you there.” That caused Callie to draw up short. “You’ll be there?” Veronica gave her a look usually reserved for the village idiot. “Of course. This is my baby, isn’t it?” “It’s our baby,” Callie couldn’t resist saying. “And I just assumed you’d stay at home.” Like you always do. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not about to miss this. Of course, it’ll mess up my work load.” She sighed heavily. “But one must do what one must do.” Callie almost laughed. What work load? “What day are you arriving?” Because the whole time Callie had been setting things up, she’d worried Veronica would ignore Derrick’s dictum for Veronica to stay away.

46

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Oh, not until Friday,” Veronica purred. “I have so much to do.” That’s what she would tell people, Callie realized. She would never admit she wasn’t there to watch Derrick because they forbade her to enter. No way. “Okay,” Callie said. “I’ll see you then.” “Look forward to it!” Veronica called out after her. Callie wished she could say the same. This whole time she’d been under the misapprehension Veronica wouldn’t be around. Now she knew that wasn’t the case, it added a whole other layer of stress to Callie’s day. She tried to get some rest on the flight east. It’d been a logistic nightmare to locate a track big enough to suit their purposes and that wouldn’t mind renting to the upstart X-TREME Racing League. They’d had the same problem when trying to put together the race schedule. Most track owners didn’t want to step on NASCAR’s toes and the X-TREME league was already causing a stir. As a result, most of their events were held at race tracks with no connection to the racing giant. So as she headed to a little town in Missouri that most of the other drivers—and Veronica—had never heard of, and that sported only modest accommodations for race teams, Callie hoped the small-town location didn’t scare any of the drivers away. She arrived to skies filled with dismal gray clouds and a cloying humidity that immediately caused the white blouse she wore to cling to her flesh. She had the kind of hair that instantly frizzed when assaulted by moisture-rich air. She knew her entire weekend would be spent trying to tame the strands into something resembling a hairstyle. “Have a nice flight?” She stopped so abruptly, her rolling suitcase clipped her in the heels, and when she turned, she came face to face with the one man on Earth that never failed to rob her of breath. Derrick Derringer.

She looked as stunned as he’d hoped she would. He’d been planning this for a month, always answering her queries with polite and sometimes terse replies, never letting her know he’d come to a decision where she was concerned. It was as if he drove upon a complicated track, one that required constant adjustments to his part, some small, some large, but the end goal was always the same. Her in his bed. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought I’d give you a ride to your hotel.” Her mouth dropped open. He took a moment to study her. She wore a pair of black slacks, a formfitting white blouse tucked into the waist. She’d left her hair down, the ends of it beginning to curl amidst the evening heat. It was nearing midnight, her flight having been delayed. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t due back in town until Saturday, three days from now.

www.samhainpublishing.com

47

Pamela Britton

“You don’t have to do that.” She looked around as if seeking an exit. “I need to rent a car, anyway.” “Then I’ll give you a ride to the rental car agency.” She appeared uncertain, her naturally long lashes blinking a few times. “Or do you like riding the rental car shuttles?” He knew he had her then. “Come on.” He almost placed a hand on her back, resisted the urge. “I’m parked right across the road.” She’d flown into Kansas City and the airport was as busy as any of the other major facilities in the United States. He’d parked directly across from the terminal, Derrick leading her across a busy roadway packed with mini-buses and cars, all of them waiting to pick up arriving passengers. Overhead lights cast a silvery sheen over the asphalt. Her suitcase wheels clicked over the cracks in the pavement. Click-clickclick-click, his reassurance that she hadn’t chickened out and made a dash for the hills. “Here we go.” He clicked the unlock button causing a sleek, silver Ford Mustang to chirp. “I’ll take your suitcase.” “That’s okay.” She pulled the handle bar toward her as if the bag contained a million dollars she feared he’d steal. “I’m just going to put it in the back.” He popped the trunk to illustrate. He had his work cut out for him, he realized. There was no disguising the I-can-take-care-of-myself glint in her eyes. Nor the BACK OFF she all but shouted. He studied her for half a heartbeat, wondering why he even bothered. There were plenty of women who’d be thrilled to spend a day with him, especially these days. He was at the top of his game, the media attention surreal. Usually, he could pull on a baseball cap and some dark sunglasses and avoid being recognized. Not lately. In fact, while he’d been standing outside waiting for Callie, he’d noticed several people staring at him as if they thought they knew him but couldn’t figure out from where. “Nice car,” she said as he moved around to the other side in time to open the door for her. “One of the perks of the job.” He gave her a smile he hoped projected FRIENDLY! HARMLESS! DON’T WANT TO GET IN YOUR PANTS, which he did, but she didn’t need to know that…yet. “I get free rental cars.” “You’ll be driving the same kind of car tomorrow.” “I will.” She nodded. “I love the Ford Mustangs. It was my first choice for the X-TREME Machines.” “Is that what you call them?” he asked with a smile, watching as she slid into the car. “Yes. We’ve even copyrighted the name.” What was it about her that smelled so good? So sweet. It was as if she’d rolled in a giant vat of honey. “Smart thinking.” He closed the door for her. She looked up at him as if she would have never expected such a courtly gesture from the likes of him.

48

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Little did she know. He had a whole list of tricks up his sleeve. “What did you mean you get free rental cars?” she asked once he’d slipped inside. “Anytime I need a car I just call someone and they arrange it.” “What someone?” Her hair had grown more and more frizzy. He took a moment to study the effects as she clicked her seatbelt into place. It did something to her face. Softened the angular edges of her chin so that she looked more youthful. “The car manufacturer I race for.” “Oh.” She looked tired, he noticed. Exhausted. He’d toyed with the idea of insisting they have dinner together, but now that he stared at her worn-out profile, he could tell that wasn’t a good idea. “Who’s your rental car through?” he asked. Oh, well. If her damn flight hadn’t been delayed maybe things would have worked out better. As it stood right now, disappointment dragged his shoulders down. “I don’t know.” She blew a hank of hair away from her face. “I’m so beat right now I think I might have forgotten my last name.” “Derringer,” he offered quickly, then just as quickly wished for it back. Bizarre thing to say. They’d never share a name. “Yeah, right,” she mumbled, clearly echoing his sentiment. “I don’t know how I’m going to drive to the hotel. Stupid Xanex. I have to take them to calm my nerves before I fly, but they always make me so sleepy.” “You have to drug yourself?” She nodded. “Airplanes scare the crap out of me.” “Wow. I would have never guessed.” She didn’t strike him as the type to be afraid of anything. “The landing.” He watched her stifle a yawn as he pulled out of the parking spot. “That’s the worst part. And the take off. I always think we’re going to burst into a ball of flames.” He stifled a laugh. “Well, if you need a ride to the hotel, I can do that.” He put the car into first gear, the street lamps overhead tossing white blobs onto his hood as he drove forward. “You can get your rental car tomorrow. First thing in the morning.” She shook her head before leaning it against the headrest. “No time.” He’d parked only a few spots away from the payment kiosk, one of those electronic what’s-it that always drove him nuts. They always placed the damn things too far away from the driver’s window. The electronic burr of the motor filled the cabin as he rolled the thing down, his attention taken away for a moment while he inserted his ticket stub and then money. “You’re too tired to drive,” he pronounced.

www.samhainpublishing.com

49

Pamela Britton

“No, I’m not.” Her voice was a near mumble. “I’m taking you straight to your hotel.” No response. He shot her a quick glance. Out cold, her glasses having slid half-way down her nose already. Damn. He stopped the car. There was no mistaking it. The woman had fallen instantly asleep. He almost laughed…almost, because what captured his attention was the way her face completely transformed when not burdened by the weight of the world. Her lips softened, making them look bigger. Her skin seemed to glow—as if the dark cloud of worry that clung to her soul had been banished by the airiness of sleep. Without giving himself time to weigh the pros and cons, he reached over and gently removed her glasses. It was either that or they’d fall from her face. She twitched a little, but didn’t stir. Derrick sat back and admired his handiwork. With her hair down, the glasses removed from her face and the softness of sleep clinging to her skin, she became beautiful. And he got so much pleasure from watching her. He forced himself to look away. Like it or not, there would be no rental car in her future tonight. Except he didn’t know where she was staying. He assumed it was the same hotel he was booked at, but he didn’t know for sure. He was loath to wake her. If he did, she wouldn’t go back to sleep again. Glancing behind him to ensure no one sat there waiting for him to move, he pulled out his cell phone and used the Internet feature to access Google. It was near midnight and the type of place he had in mind sometimes didn’t answer this late at night. Fortunately, as luck would have it, he got through to someone almost immediately, Derrick keeping his voice low as he made the arrangements. Sure, there was a betterthan-average chance she might wake up before he could get her into a room, but he was willing to give it a shot. She needed to sleep. He needed to take care of her. He had no idea why the thought resonated so deeply within him, but it did. So he drove, and when the time came, he pulled to a stop in front of an elaborate, three-story bed and breakfast which sat in the middle of a park-like setting. Even though it was late at night, he could tell acres and acres of lawn stretched for a good distance around him. “The guest cottage is right around back,” the innkeeper pointed, the man seeming to be completely nonplussed by the lateness by the hour. “You can drive right on up to it.” “Perfect.” “Enjoy your stay.” “We will.” Derrick slid his room key off the counter. An old-fashioned skeleton. None of that plastic card crap. Frankly, he might cancel his reservations at the big hotel chain the XRL had booked him at and stay here instead.

50

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“And good luck this weekend.” Derrick turned back sharply. He could tell by the hero worship on the man’s face that he’d been recognized. “Thanks.” Derrick offered the man a small smile. He always felt so damn uncomfortable when that happened. Yes, even after all these years. Fame was a cloak he wore almost reluctantly—a natural byproduct of doing the job he loved. “Call me if you need anything.” Derrick slipped out the front door, lifting a hand in thanks. Callie hadn’t awakened by the time he returned, probably because he’d left the car running and the radio playing softly. She didn’t wake up when he got into the car again, either, not even when he stopped in front of the cottage. “Damn,” he muttered. The place was perfect. No doubt it’d been used in the past as a carriage house or something, but these days it’d been completely revamped and refurbished to accommodate guests. He pulled into the front and turned off the car, relieved when all she did was shake her head slightly—as if she fought off an annoying fly. “Here goes.” He slipped into cool, October air without wakening her, glancing back into the car when the trunk popped with a thud. Still nothing. He pulled her suitcase out as quietly as he could, then propped the carriage-house door open with it. Next he returned to the car, pulling on the handle as quietly as possible. She opened her eyes—Derrick’s breath caught—but then closed them again. Man, that Xanex must be good stuff. Either that, or she was completely exhausted. As he stared down at her, a lantern near their parking spot painting her face with milky light, he decided it was exhaustion. He had no idea what Veronica had been putting her through, but he suspected none of it was good. “Shh,” he soothed as he scooped her up. “I’m gonna carry you to your room. Just relax.” She did exactly that, an odd sort of tickle filled his midsection as he stared down at her. Her dark lashes left half-moons of shadows on her cheeks. She shifted, mumbling something under her breath. Derrick froze. She turned her head toward the crook of his arm, snuggled. Derrick’s world lurched. Something flowed, something warm and sweet and that—for once—had nothing to do with his crotch. She mumbled something again. He put his ear down lower to listen.

www.samhainpublishing.com

51

Pamela Britton

“Put it down,” he heard her slur. He thought she meant put her down, Derrick turning toward the cottage. Then, loudly enough the words could clearly be heard, she ordered, “Put the yogurt down.” He smiled. Not angry at him, but angry at the person in her dreams. She liked yogurt. Good to know. The cottage consisted of three separate rooms. The main room and two bedrooms off of it because no matter how tempted he might be to share a bed with her, he wasn’t about to push himself on her. He had to draw the line someplace. He’d turned the lights on earlier, which he was thankful for since he had to navigate around a clawfooted couch covered in dark green fabric. That seemed to be the theme of the whole place—green. Her room had a forest-colored spread across the bed. He toyed with pulling the covers back, realized there was no way to do that without setting her down first, and so gently set her down instead. He hated to let her go. Holding her did weird things to his insides, things he liked. As he straightened away he found himself taking a deep breath. Success! He’d somehow managed to orchestrate a kidnapping of sorts. Although maybe it was more of a sleepnapping? She was so peaceful looking, not at all like the exuberant dynamo he was used to admiring. This Callie had soft color blooming on her cheeks, and lips that were slightly parted in sleep. Adorable. Indeed, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Before he could think better of it, he bent to kiss her goodnight. He savored the moment before their flesh connected, the sweet torture of knowing he shouldn’t, but did anyway. That she would be furious if she woke up right then. He caressed her lips with his own, softly, gently, savoring each second of stolen pleasure. Her eyes popped open.

52

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Eight

It had to be a dream. She couldn’t be lying on a bed, Derrick Derringer staring down at her, the remnants of his kiss still imprinted on her lips. “What’s going on?” she heard herself ask. He was blurry. “You fell asleep.” He drew far enough away she could see him. “I drove you to your hotel room.” There was something wrong with that scenario. She knew it, just as she knew she should be doing something right now—ordering him from her room, maybe. Yelling at him. About what? She didn’t know, she just knew something about this scene was all wrong, she was just too frickin’ tired to figure out what it was. And so, in the end, all she said was, “Oh.” “Go back to sleep.” She closed her eyes. Fingers stroked her forehead. She smiled. That felt good. Her mom used to do that to her when she was little. “Shhh.” Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she turned her head toward the hand, moaned softly. The fingers riffled through her hair. “Houston, we might have a problem,” she heard him murmur. “Hmm?” she asked, the darkness sucking her back down. “I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you, and yet here I am.” “Feels good,” she slurred, rolling onto her side. Why were her shoes still on? She shouldn’t be in bed with her shoes. She kicked them off. “Don’t do that.” “Wha—?” she mumbled. “Get undressed.” “Oh.” Something touched her nose. A kiss. She was certain of it, and since this was a dream, she turned her head, waited.

Pamela Britton

She sensed a whisper of a breath cross her cheek. It caused her to sigh, Callie decided this was the most delicious dream she’d ever had. So real. So lifelike. She didn’t want it to end. “I’m going to kiss you on the lips.” Her whole body leapt to life at the mere thought of it. Less than a heartbeat later, his lips lightly grazed her own and then, as if that wasn’t nearly enough for him, those lips came back again, this time pressing with an intensity that made her sigh in contentment. She opened her mouth, tired of waiting for him to take the initiative. His tongue touched hers. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. He slid onto the bed next to her. She liked that, actually turned in to him so they were belly to belly and, goodness, crotch to crotch. Any doubt he was attracted to her banished at the intimate touch. The bulge of his crotch sent a fission of electricity through her that made her whole body leap to life. She luxuriated in the feeling, embraced it, told Derrick without words she wanted more of him. He pulled his tongue away for a second. She wiggled against him, trying to entice him back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” she heard him say. She slid a hand beneath his shirt. He had taut abs, but she knew that, had seen him on a reality show once upon a time, knew he worked out. But to actually feel the hard contours of his muscles, to run her finger up the shallow valleys and the hard ridges. “Oh,” she breathed. “Please tell me you’re awake.” He slid a hand beneath her shirt. The pads of his fingers grazed her abdomen, causing it to spasm. She wanted, oh how she wanted, for those fingers to glide higher, to slide underneath her bra, perhaps lift the tiny cups that covered her breasts so he could kiss her nipples. She arched into him again, rubbed her own fingers through the hair on his chest, trying to egg him on, and hoping he’d get the message. He did. She felt him shift, felt cool air hit her belly. Cool air? His lips touched her belly. She arched her hips. He nipped her flesh. It jolted her awake. It wasn’t a dream. To be honest, it took her a moment to figure out where she was, and even then she only had a vague idea. A hotel room somewhere. With Derrick. “What the—?” She sat up, scooted back so abruptly Derrick’s nose smashed into her hip bone. “Ouch.”

54

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Where are we?” He shot up, rubbed his nose. She glanced around wildly. “Don’t you remember?” he asked, sounding like a dental patient, one whose nose ran thanks to Novocain. “All I remember was climbing into your car. You were supposed to take me to the rental car agency.” “You fell asleep.” “So you kidnapped me?” He shifted, moving so he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand still covering his nose. “I was trying to be thoughtful. I didn’t want to wake you.” “So you took me to—” She glanced around. “Where are we, anyway?” “A bed and breakfast outside Kansas City.” “You spirited me away to a bed and breakfast?” How had she missed that? Easy. You’ve been awake for the past forty-eight hours straight. “It wasn’t like that.” His hand dropped to his lap. He was far enough away that his red nose was clearly visible. He looked like one of Santa’s reindeers. “Look. I could tell you were exhausted the minute I spotted you outside the airport terminal. And then you admitted to taking something to help you relax. When you fell asleep, it seemed a shame to wake you. I thought—why not—why not take care of her? What if I don’t and she wrecks on the way to the hotel? I could never forgive myself. You looked like someone who needed taking care of. There was nothing nefarious about my intentions.” She’d looked like someone who’d needed taking care of. How sweet. “I need to check into my hotel.” “No.” He stood. His nose was still red as an apple, but he managed to look extra hunky nonetheless. “Don’t do that. You need rest. And this place has two separate bedrooms. I did that on purpose, so you could lock your door if you felt uncomfortable.” “And if I hadn’t woken up?” she asked, arching a brow. “Would you have locked the door for me?” He scratched at his arm, Callie thinking he was a tan son-of-a-gun. Though he had dark locks, fine blond hairs dotted his arms, the strands bleached by the sun. “You were so out cold, I doubt you’d have noticed one way or another.” He shook his head. “But I guess it makes no difference one way or another.” To her surprise, he sat back down on the bed again, Callie shrinking back. Jeez. It wasn’t like he’d been about to rape her or anything. She wished he would rape her. She winced at the thought.

www.samhainpublishing.com

55

Pamela Britton

Can’t rape the willing, Callie. “Don’t look so troubled.” He nudged her with a knuckle gently. “Rest, Callie. I suspect you haven’t had any sleep in days.” That was true. He reached out and stroked her forehead. “You’re beat.”A slight smile came to his face as he continued to stroke her cheek. She loved that. Wanted to purr at how good it felt to have a man drag his fingers gently across her cheeks, not because he wanted to have sex with her, but because he was worried about her. How long since someone had cared about her well-being? “Get some rest,” he said gently. “You’re going to need it for this weekend.” Suddenly all she wanted to do was close her eyes. Well, sort of. There was a part of her, a very small part, she assured herself, that wanted to go back to the moment right before she’d woken up. The minute when he’d been kissing her and she’d thought everything was a dream. She wanted him to go on touching her until she screamed his name in release— Stop. It was silly to thing to think. She couldn’t let this go any further. Ever. There were some ideas that were simply no good no matter how tempting they might be. Her eyes drifted closed. She really was tired. “Go to sleep,” he repeated softly. And God help her, she turned her cheek toward his soft palm. Such a big hand. So capable. She would bet that was part of the reason why he was such a good driver. He had big fingers. WAKE UP. She couldn’t. It was as if she’d inhaled sleeping gas. She just. Couldn’t. Open. Her. Eyes. “I’ll wake you in the morning.” “Okay,” she heard herself say from a distance.

Adorable. It was all Derrick could do to walk away. He’d never met a woman who could go from wide awake to stone-cold asleep in the space of a few heartbeats. As he pulled his shirt out of his waistband and prepared to go to bed he found himself smiling. Sweet too. That’s how she looked laying there, her face snuggling his palm. The funniest sensation had rolled through him. It was the same kind of feeling he got when he tested a new car, one that was out-performing all his expectations. Exhilaration. Contentment. Pleasure. His hands froze while in the midst of undoing his buttons. What did that mean? Just as soon as he asked the question, he dismissed it. He felt sorry for her. That was it. Sure, he was attracted to her—although he had yet to figure out why—but that didn’t mean there was anything more.

56

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Still, he had a hard time getting to sleep that night in the extra bedroom, his thoughts swirling around. Keyed up over the test session the next day. Wondering if the cars she designed were any good or if this was all a crock. What if they were good? What if he sat inside of one and felt the thrill of racing that’d been strangely absent lately. What would he do about it? Joining the X-TREME Racing League poised a whole host of problems, not the least of which was his contract with his current team owner. He had strict restrictions on what he could race and where. Adding Callie’s league into the mix would make things complicated. And then it was morning. One minute his thoughts has been swirling and the next he opened his eyes and the sun was up. “Damn it,” he heard from the other room, and then a thud. He sat up in bed. A door closed. That got him moving. He’d put on a pair of boxers last night just in case they bumped into each other, but he gave the brown cotton fabric hardly a thought as he dashed through the door. The thump he’d heard had obviously been her luggage being tugged down from the table he’d set it on last night. “What are you doing?” Like a cat who’d been caught inside a bag of food, she whipped around, startled. “Derrick,” she breathed, a sickly smile alighting upon her face. “You’re up.” Her eyes swept downward, the quickly darted back again. There she went blushing again. He clearly spotted crimson on her cheeks and down the side of her neck. “Yeah,” he looked her up and down. “I’m up.” In more ways than one, he suddenly realized. He must have been dreaming about her. Either that, or it was one of those things because he was as hard as a rock, and she knew it, had seen the tent-like bulge near his crotch. “Great,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I’ll see you out at the track then.” She turned. “Wait.” He dashed to block her exit. She drew up sharply, but not before glancing at his boxers. She was like a five-year-old who been told not to stare at the funny-looking attire of an adult. He could tell she fought hard to keep her eyes up. “Yes,” he said softly. “I’m hard.” She gulped. “For you.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

57

Chapter Nine

Callie told herself he was messing with her. That he didn’t really have a hard-on for her. Men got that way in the morning sometimes. That was all. “Terrific.” She hoped her voice had come out in a completely casual manner, one that belied how thoroughly rattled she felt. First, she’d woken up in a strange place. Then, as data from last night had refreshed her memory banks, she’d immediately scanned the room for Derrick. He’d been nowhere to be seen, which had been Callie’s cue to try for a quick getaway. She should have known better. “What would be terrific is if you’d take care of the matter for me.” “In your dreams,” she retorted instantly, readjusting the glasses she’d found on an end-table where he must have tossed them last night. It was the wrong thing to say because it brought to mind her own dreams, the one she’d thought she’d been having the night before, the dream of Derrick making love to her. She’d wanted that last night. Wanted him. He knew it. “It could be a reality if you wanted it to be.” He edged closer. Okay, that did it. She needed to get a handle on her ridiculous attraction. Dang. Was she star-struck? Was that what made her body react so instantly to his words? He was Derrick Derringer. Star NASCAR driver, and, all right, her brain had featured him in more than a few fantasies. She could admit that, but she would not let her lust for him overpower her common sense. Men like him were never serious about women like her, not that she had experience in such maters. That’s just what she’d observed over the years. “I’ll see you at the track, Derrick.” She hoped her voice was cool. He let her go this time. It was only as she stepped outside that she realized she had no idea where she was or even how close to the race track she might be—that’s how panicked she’d been to get the hell out of Dodge. She knew instantly Derrick had been telling the truth. They were very obviously at some kind of bed and breakfast. She headed off to the main structure where she found an older man more than willing to call her a cab, and who didn’t look at all puzzled when she asked where she was. A glance at her watch revealed she still had time. She was supposed to meet with her engineers and the pit crew she’d hired for the test sessions and according to the inn’s manager, they were only a short distance away. Derrick was scheduled to show up later.

Burning Rubber

Would he still be wearing his boxers? She shook her head at the thought, a part of her wondering if she’d ever be able to look him in the eyes. As it turned out, she didn’t have a whole lot of time to think about Derrick in the ensuing hours. The truck carrying their demo cars was late. One of the men she’d hired to help with shocks and suspension turned out to be a real jerk. She put up with his sexist remarks and attitude for about half an hour before her temper flared. She’d fired the man on the spot and then promoted one of the other women he’d insulted into his position. Then, when the X-TREME Machines finally did arrive, she spent the next hour going over every inch of the Ford Mustang lookalike. She needed to be certain nothing had been tampered with—not that she anticipated anything happening—she was just OCD when it came to her cars. And they were her cars. Veronica may claim ownership of the league, but her boss knew better than to mention anything about the engineering. By her own admission, she didn’t know a thing about the 800-plus horsepower engine. No doubt her boss felt terror at the thought of someone asking her a question about them, thus the reason why she let Callie take the credit. Callie did. “He’s here.” Despite the heat of the day, a chill slipped down her spine like ice water off the side of a glass. This was it. The moment of truth. In less than an hour none other than Derrick Derringer would be taking her car around a half-mile oval. “Okay, everybody,” she clapped. “Look sharp.” The track they had leased for the event had gone unused for the previous five years, but the owners had gone to extraordinary measures to make it presentable for XRL. The access lane to pit road nearly blinded her. The concrete had been washed so white, the glare from Derrick’s front windshield caused her to squint. He turned toward the plain white big rigs that had carried her X-TREME Machines to Odessa, just outside of Kansas City. The back door to one of those rigs had been swung open—a la drawbridge style—providing a tiny bit of shade against the sun’s glare. She and her crew stood beneath the door, staring toward the entrance to the track. In the background a generator hummed—the thing connected to the oil warmer on her race car. They wanted Derrick to be able to go right on out and run fast if he wanted to, not spend precious minutes warming up the engine. She pasted a bright—and what she hoped was professional—smile on her face as his car approached. “Mr. Derringer,” she called brightly as he stepped out of his silver rental. She’d fallen asleep in that car last night. He’d carried her into a room, deposited her on a bed and—

www.samhainpublishing.com

59

Pamela Britton

“Callie,” he nodded, and though she couldn’t see his eyes thanks to a pair of sunglasses, she knew he was scoping out the place. What he observed wouldn’t impress him. Compared to where he was used to driving, the Missouri track was small potatoes. Grandstands stretched along the straightaway. There were no outbuildings in the infield, just a wide expanse of concrete where race teams staged their cars prior to a race. On race day there would be no room for multiple haulers like there would be at a NASCAR track. Those would be parked outside the track, across the access road to the infield. No underground tunnels or pedestrian bridges—just a steeply sloped race track that would be a challenge to drive. He met her gaze. “Welcome to Odessa Speedway,” she said, and before he could make a comment about the track, she launched into introductions. “This will be your crew chief for the test.” She pointed to a good-looking man with dark hair and dark eyes. Usually, he worked for one of the smaller racing series, and the list of driving talents he’d worked with in the past—drivers who’d since gone on to bigger and better things—was impressive. “Chet Grant,” she said as the two shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Derringer,” Chet said, the black shirt he wore already smudged with dirt. Probably from when they’d inspected the undercarriages of the cars. Callie had donned a similar black polo shirt and jeans. She wouldn’t be surprised if she carried similar dirt spots. “And this is Barry Levine,” she said. “He’ll be working the computers for us.” She introduced the other ten people involved in the test session, from aeronautic engineers, something that was—admittedly not her forte—to simple mechanics there to wrench on the cars. “And this is Kathy.” She introduced the last member of their entourage. “She specializes in suspension.” “Hey, Kathy,” Derrick said, Callie watching him closely. Not by word or deed did he indicate there was anything different about Kathy, that difference being she was female. Callie felt the skin between her brows winkle. She had no idea why, but she’d expected a flirtatious smile and a suggestive comment to accompany his greeting. Instead Derrick turned to her and said, “Shall we get the show on the road?” Callie nodded, completely baffled. Why wasn’t he making eyes at Kathy? She was really pretty, with her thick blonde hair (albeit swept back into a ponytail) and her intelligent green eyes. “I assume you brought a firesuit?” He nodded. “Do you have someplace where I can change?” “Sure. There’s a lounge in the front of the hauler.” She pointed toward the big rig they stood behind. He didn’t say anything, just turned back to his rental, and pulling out a firesuit she recognized from TV. Big D. The white D on a black backdrop was instantly recognizable. The on-line bargain discount store sponsored a number of cars in various different racing leagues.

60

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Show me where,” he said when he came back to her. She instantly tensed for a moment, then quickly chastised herself. He couldn’t possibly be trying to pull a fast one—trying to get her alone. That was her over-active imagination at work. Surely he knew where the lounge was? Race car haulers were all the same… “Follow me,” she said. Since the interior of the rig was set up like a mobile garage, she had to open a sliding glass door off the back of the transporter. She didn’t look back to see if he followed, just headed for the mini-office straight ahead. He was close. She could practically feel his presence. “Right here.” She pointed toward some steps that led to the private room. “Thanks.” Then he did something that made her breath catch. He closed the distance between them, leaned down. “You want to come in there with me?” Her cheeks combusted. “No.” She nearly choked on the word. “I have work to do.” He lifted a hand, his thumb stroking her cheek before she could jerk out of the way. “You work too hard.” “I’ll be outside.” She dashed past him. Good lord. Why did he keep doing that? Why did he keep touching her? Being nice to her? She felt like she stood on a barrel, one about to roll out from underneath her. “Callie,” he called out after her. Don’t stop. “You snore.” She drew up sharply. “I do not.” He smiled at her. Derrick Derringer. Star race car driver. The man of her dreams. All right. She could admit it. She’d had a serious crush on him for years. Not because he was one of the hottest-looking men in America. No. What really turned her on was the way he could handle a race car. He’d be doing that today. Her race car. “You do,” he contradicted. Then his face softened. “But you needed the rest.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I was socked out on medication. And you still should have woken me up, taken me to my hotel.” “I know. But I’m glad I didn’t. You look better this morning.” She touched her cheek, though she didn’t know why. Was it dirty? Did she have a smudge on her skin? He turned away without another word, Callie nearly slumping against the gray cabinets that lined both sides of the big rig’s narrow aisle. Dear Lord this would be a long day.

www.samhainpublishing.com

61

Pamela Britton

Because no matter how often she told herself to resist Derrick, it would be impossible to do if he kept this up. Just look at her. Smiling like a silly school girl, a grin she quickly killed as she headed for the sliding glass doors. She would have to give him a wide berth. And never be alone with him. She could do that. Couldn’t she? Yeah, right.

Derrick still smiled when he emerged a few minutes later. Did she really have no idea how incredibly cute she looked in her dirt-smeared jeans, black polo shirt and her loose ponytail? He loved dirty women. He wished she was more dirty. Dirty as in willing to flirt with him. Then again, he had to admit, that was one of the things he actually liked about her. She didn’t stare at him with that I’d-like-to-eat-you look in her eyes. If anything, she seemed to have to fight to keep eye contact. He was still smiling as he left the hauler, Missouri’s ever-present humidity plastering itself against his face the moment he opened the sliding glass door. Damn. He’d thought North Carolina was bad. “Let’s get ready to rumble,” he cried out the moment his asbestos-clad feet touched pavement. Smiles greeted him. Smiles from everyone but Callie, that is. She seemed…pensive. “What’s the matter, Callie-Cakes? Worried I’ll wreck your pretty new car?” He tapped her nose gently, his grin widening at the way her eyes widened and her face flushed. So adorable. “No. Of course not. You’re a fantastic driver.” He drew up sharply. “What’s this? A compliment? From you. You sick or something?” She glared at him. Actually glared. A laugh slipped out. “Now, now,” he wagged a finger at her. “I’m just teasing. I know how much you love me.” “Not as much as you love yourself.” “Ooo. Ouch.” He clutched his heart. “The woman has claws.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, crazy girl. Let’s go make history.” She tried to wiggle away. He wouldn’t let her. Nobody seemed to notice how uncomfortable she looked. Everyone was all smiles. Derrick felt his spirits lift. He looked forward to trying out her cars. Looked forward to seeing what they could do. And if they were good? Well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

62

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Ten

Someone had placed his helmet on the primer-coated race car. Derrick resisted the urge to jerk it on his head. Instead, he stood back for a moment, admiring the sleek look of her car. Well, it wasn’t really her body style, per se. She had Ford to thank for the gently sloped front end and boxy backside. Although Callie and her engineers had had to shrink the body style down a bit to avoid patent infringement, the final design was close enough to be instantly recognizable. Mustang. Based on the data she’d provided, the cars looked to be every bit as aerodynamic as their real-life counterparts. “Here we go.” He stepped forward. The Cup cars he raced on Sunday, and the X-TREME Machines, had no side windows. That was a safety feature—no shattered plexiglass to deal with and a faster escape for drivers—and so it was a familiar task for him to drop the window net. While the outside resembled a Mustang GT right down to the spoiler in the back, the inside was vastly different. Sheet metal and roll bars intersected the interior, just like any other race car. The dash looked the same too, right down to the RMP dial on his left and the pressure gauges on the right. Even the seat fitted him like a glove, a little known fact about race cars. Seats were custom manufactured to fit the driver. This one had been delivered to Callie and her team a few weeks ago, something he hoped his owner never heard about. He had to squint as he looked outside the car. “You want me to take it easy the first couple of laps? Make sure the engine’s broken in right?” Callie was all business now. She even held a clipboard. “The cars have all been thoroughly checked at the shop. The engines have about a hundred hours on them. They’re buttoned up as tight as a pastor’s wife.” He felt his brows lift up to the edges of his helmet. “A pastor’s wife?” “Don’t be afraid to uncork her,” she advised. “She’ll go as fast as you like.” Uncork. He really did love it when she talked shop. “Roger dodger.” Someone handed her a headset. Derrick plugged himself into the microphone system before flipping the switch. “Check, check,” he said, the routine so familiar he hardly paid attention to what he was doing. “Testing one, two.” “We’ve got you.” “I wish you had me.” He gave her a flirtatious smile, not that she could see it with his helmet in the way.

Pamela Britton

From outside the car, she frowned down at him, pressed the button on the side of her headset. “If it’s not too much trouble, could we keep the suggestive comments to a minimum?” A puff of laughter slipped past his lips. He had no idea why he was in such high spirits. Actually, that wasn’t true. He loved to race. Frankly, he couldn’t wait to try out something new. “Why spoil a good thing?” he asked, and before she could make another demand for him to stop, he flipped the switch to start the engine. He almost giggled—actually laughed like a euphoric school boy—at the sound of the 800-plus horses that roared to life. Whatever she’d done, it sure sounded good. “Damn, Callie,” he said after idling for a moment and checking gauges. “That’s one healthy-sounding motor.” “It should sound good after all the work I’ve put into it.” When he glanced outside, she was motioning for her crew to take their places, seemingly unfazed by all she’d achieved. She’d designed a motor. This wasn’t some knock-off. This was a new design—still a V-8 since there was no sense in messing with perfection—but she’d completely turned traditional engine technology on its ear with her innovatively shaped pistons and valves. That wasn’t the only difference, and from the sound of it, the other changes had resulted in some serious horsepower gains. He tapped the accelerator. There was an instant, almost-crazy-fast response time. “Let’s go.” Derrick agreed, edging away from her slowly. He had to be careful. The motor responded so quickly he had to keep his foot pressure to a minimum. He pulled the wheel to the left and right, testing the suspension. That responded faster also. Damn. What had she done? Adrenaline had his heart pumping like a marathon runner at the Olympics. As with most test sessions, laptops and gigabytes were involved. A table had been set up outside the hauler and he knew information streamed across computer screens. “I’m going to take it easy for a lap.” He swiveled the wheels back and forth. “Warm up the tires a bit.” “Roger,” her voice low and sexy. Then again, maybe that was his imagination. In all his years of driving race cars, he’d never had a female on the other end of the line. As Callie had said, racing was a severely sexist industry despite its equal opportunity party-line. So he found himself opening up the lines of communication even though he didn’t really need to. “What kind of gears am I running in the backend?” “4.22,” drawled a sultry voice. Mmm hmm. Talk dirty to me, baby. “Camber?” he asked next.

64

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“1.8 degrees.” “Hot damn!” he told nobody but himself. He loved talking cars with a hot woman. That was just it. She wasn’t hot. Not in the traditional sense. Strangely, he found her as attractive as any super model. He rounded the first turn. The track was tiny, as small as Bristol, but whereas Bristol had the look and feel of a professional football stadium, the Odessa track felt like high school. Actually, at least high schools had grandstands on both sides of the field. The track he circled had one set of grandstands along the start/finish line. That was it. A white safety wall sped by on his right, the tops of the trees that surrounded the track turning into a green blur as he pressed down the accelerator. He had to squint against the glare of sunshine that arced off his windshield, but he could still see the three tractor trailers Callie stood near, and Callie herself standing on pit road wall. “Gimme one more lap and then I’ll cut her loose.” “Roger.” He continued jerking the wheel left and right. After so many years he was used to the sideways motion, hardly noticed its dizzying effects. It was such a familiar action he found his mind wandering a bit, wondering what his next move should be as far as Callie was concerned. Should he ask her out? There was a novel approach. The minute he considered the idea, he dismissed it. She would turn him down flat. Sneak attack. That was his best bet. Maybe a kiss in the garage? Only there was no garage. So that meant cornering her in the lounge, or someplace else private. He looked forward to it. Turn three loomed ahead, Derrick comfortable enough with the track he radioed into Callie, “All right, I’m going to drop the hammer.” “Roger,” she repeated again. Damn. She was like the sexy computer-generated voice on action movies. Maybe that was the attraction, he thought. It was the voice. “Here we go,” he warned as he came out of turn. He waited until he crossed the start/finish line before mashing the pedal. He damn near lifted the front wheels off the ground. “Shit,” he muttered. It seemed he was at turn one in record time, having spotted the race track’s main groove on his previous laps. The car slid low, responding to his commands beautifully. Impressive. He liked the way the Callie’s X-TREME Machine seemed to hug the curves with minimal effort on his part. Quick. Efficient. No lurching or bouncing around. Whoever had done the initial setup had done a terrific job. He took it up another notch.

www.samhainpublishing.com

65

Pamela Britton

In the blink of an eye he was at turn three. Again, the car performed perfectly. Yeah, it might be a little on the tight side, but that might go away if he ran her a few more laps. “How’s she feeling?” Though she undoubtedly tried to hide it, Derrick could hear the edginess in her voice made all the more pronounced by the near monotone she’d been using before. “Horrible,” he teased. “Like crap.” “What’s wrong?” came immediately back, her voice having raised a notch. He chuckled, opened the mic midway through his laugh. “I’m kidding, Callie. She feels great.” He’d found the rhythm now. It wasn’t hard. Unfortunately, the tightness problem never went away. “I’m going to bring her in.” “You’re too tight, aren’t you?” Callie asked. He smiled, his cheeks bumping into the side of his helmet. “You noticed.” “Hard to miss. We’ll do some tweaking on the suspension.” “Good, because I have no idea what to tell you to do. I’m going at this blind here.” “We know, but this’ll give us a chance to look the car over too. You might as well crawl out for a moment.” “You got it.” He pointed the car down pit road, tempted to give the wheel a few jerks left and right. He enjoyed the way the car handled. If they could easily fix the problem and, conversely, fix the vehicle when it got loose, they might really have something on their hands. Something that felt like a stock car, but wasn’t. That would be fun to drive. And fast. He couldn’t wait to see what it felt like on a super speedway. He braked suddenly. Super speedway? Yep. He couldn’t wait to drive the X-TREME Machine on a two-and-a-half mile track. The silence when he cut the engine nearly deafened him. Callie watched as he came around the front, the eyes behind the glasses seeming to glow. Those eyes of her—so expressive—conveyed what her voice had partially revealed. She was ecstatic. That excitement lit up her entire face. He pulled off his helmet, tugged the buds out of his ear. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” She dropped the net. “Pretty fast if your face is any indication.” “You just shaved seconds off the track record.” “Sweet.” He worked the catches on his harness. “That’s amazing.” He slipped out of the car the moment he was free, pulling apart his firesuit at the same time. “Just wait until we get her dialed in.”

66

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I know,” When he turned, it was in time to catch her bouncing up and down on her toes, like a child in front of a toy store window. Jubilant. Thrilled. Delightful. “You done good, Callie.” “Thank you so much.” She had a wide smile on her face. To his shock, she busted through the barrier of her professionalism to give him a hug. He held her a moment, their time together last night coming back to him. He knew then he was kidding himself. If he signed onto the X-TREME Racing League it wouldn’t be because of the cars, it would because of her.

Callie knew she should step away, that she shouldn’t keep holding him, but she just couldn’t seem to let him go. Her wildest fantasies had come true. Derrick Derringer had driven one of her cars and liked it. No, loved it. “Thank you,” she gushed, drawing back and hoping he didn’t feel her hands shake. “Thank you so much.” “No,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her face, a small smile crooking up the side of his mouth. “Thank you.” She wanted to kiss him. It shocked her how hard she had to fight the urge to lift herself up on her tippy-toes and caress his lips with her own. She let him go instead. “Seriously, Derrick.” She had to look away from his soul-probing stare. “I can’t thank you enough.” “You can thank me later.” His voice had turned so soft it caused her to look him in the eye again. “Derrick—” “Mr. Derringer, how’d the car feel?” They both jerked apart. “Jim Brown, Racing Sports News. Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a car here.” The man held a reporter’s pad in front of him. Jim Brown was short as he was wide. His bald forehead was already sweating in the afternoon sun. Callie glanced at Derrick, her heart instantly dropping. Gone was the smile, the soft eyes, the gentle expression. “What’s he doing here?” he asked. “I have no idea. This is a closed session.” The man looked between Callie and Derrick in confusion, pen and paper in hand. “That’s not what I heard.” He lifted a brow. “I was told I’d be given an exclusive.” “Excuse me,” Callie asked.

www.samhainpublishing.com

67

Pamela Britton

“Is your name Callie Monroe? That’s who I was told to see.” “By who?” Callie demanded. “I was under the impression you were the one who called.” The man flushed. “That’s the name I have on record.” Derrick turned toward her, and while he didn’t look accusatory, he didn’t look pleased, either. “What’s going on here?” “I don’t know.” She splayed her hands. “Maybe Veronica—” Because that’s who’d done it. Nobody else would have had the guts to go against Derrick’s wishes. She could just envision Veronica making the call—all in the name of publicity—and then using Callie’s name as a way of confusing matters in case Derrick got angry. “Veronica Adams?” the reporter asked. “Is she around? I’d love to hear how she came up with the concept of the X-TREME Racing league.” Callie heard her jaw pop, realized she’d ground her teeth together, and immediately forced herself to smile. “Actually, no, she’s not here.” And that’s a good thing because I’d kill her if she was. “And Derrick isn’t supposed to be here, either. He flew in as a special favor.” It was the lie she’d come up with earlier, the one she’d formulated to save her bacon in case someone talked. With the gag order she’d had everyone sign, she hadn’t expected to use it. “He’s an old friend,” she added quickly. “And so when he offered to test our cars for us, I jumped at the chance. But he’s in no way associated with the X-TREME Racing League. I want to make that clear.” “Really?” the middle-aged man lifted his brows again, and Callie could tell he didn’t believe her prefabricated lie. “He’s actually really helping me out. We had no way of knowing how the cars would perform and so Derrick’s acting as a sort of, um, as a test pilot, if you will. Working the bugs out. That’s why he’s here early.” “I see,” the man nodded, and Callie was relieved he took down notes. “Derrick,” he said when he was finished, “do you mind giving me your thoughts on the vehicle?” “Sure.” “But first I’d like to know how long you’ve known Callie, and what are you, Callie, exactly? Some type of engineer?” It was warm outside, but the question had Callie feeling hotter under the collar. “Something like that,” she hedged. “She’s the one who came up with the concept of a racing league.” Derrick took a step toward the man at the same time he released the Velcro sealing his firesuit closed. To her chagrin he peeled it down, revealing a tank top beneath that showed off his perfectly sculpted shoulders. Oh my.

68

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Veronica Adams might claim ownership of the league, but it was Callie who conceived the concept, engineered the cars, blue-printed the motors. She’s a genius.” “Is that how you met? Through race cars?” “Yes.” Callie tossed Derrick a grateful smile. “Derrick and I share a passion for cars.” That much, at least, was true. “So you think the idea has merit.” The guy looked at Derrick. “This X-TREME Racing League.” Callie glanced over at him, unsure why she did so, except she needed to hear his answer. “I think it’s an idea whose time has come.” Her heart skipped a beat. “Does that mean you’re interested in jumping ship?” Derrick lifted his hands. “Whoa. I didn’t say that. I just think that based on what I’ve seen here, people have a real treat in store.” Callie was still giddy over his earlier comment. I think it’s an idea whose time has come. Did that mean he was considering driving for them? She tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to supervise the changes.” He nodded, sparing her hardly a glance as he spoke to the reporter about her cars, the drivers slated to test the cars this coming weekend, and anything else Jim Brown could come up with. It took them only a moment to fix Derrick’s car, but when they were finished, she was hesitant to approach. She hung back for a moment, observing the perfection that was Derrick. Okay, all right, she could admit how completely infatuated she was with the man. Now there he was, standing back, talking to a reporter, and from what she could hear, singing her praises. Her heart tumbled. “Derrick,” she called. “We’re ready for you.” “Be right there.” He didn’t immediately look away. He’d moved to the shade since sliding out of the car, the sun blocked by the ramp that hung over him. Their gazes held. Callie felt like a horse pranced on her chest. It made in nearly impossible to breathe. She smiled, though she didn’t know why. Best not to encourage such a potent playboy as Mr. Derringer. Still, her heart sang when he grinned back. She had it bad. At this rate she might find herself between a rock and a hard spot. Derrick’s hard spot. Would that be a bad thing? She admitted that maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe she was over-thinking this whole thing. Maybe she should let nature take its course. Maybe she should jump Derrick.

www.samhainpublishing.com

69

Chapter Eleven

The rest of the day went as smoothly as the morning, even though Derrick was never completely comfortable with a reporter in sight. Damn that Veronica. Even though he had no proof it was her who’d tipped off Jim Brown, he would bet his new Rolex it was. Everyone knew what a publicity hog Veronica the Pirahnica was. It stood to reason she’d completely ignore the gag order everyone was under and then do whatever the hell she wanted to do. Callie’s quick thinking had saved his ass, although they were doomed if Jim decided to do a little research into her claims. “How does she feel out there?” He smiled, enjoying the easy way they worked together. “Terrific. I think you have a real winner here, Callie.” Though he couldn’t see her face what with the track whizzing by, he could hear the smile in her voice. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” They’d spent all day toying with the X-TREME Machine. A little tweak here and a bit of a tweak there and he felt confident the car was dialed in. When the other drivers arrived they could slip into Callie’s vehicles confident they had a tried and true machine. “Gonna call it a day unless you think there’s more we can do.” “I think we’re good.” Although to be honest, he was almost sorry to pull in. The reporter who’d surprised them had left a couple of hours ago, Derrick hoping to God the man didn’t use the Derrick Derringer About to Jump Ship angle for his article on XRL. He would have to come clean to his PR manager, that’s for sure. Maybe together they could come up with an angle to spin his defection into something positive. Was he going to defect? He pulled in, spotted the excitement on Callie’s face—on everyone’s face. It was hard not to pick up on that enthusiasm. It seemed lately everything about stock car racing had become so political, so ho-hum, almost stymied. He hated that he always had to watch what he said. That he was forced to drive at speeds far slower than the cars could travel. That bumping and nudging were a thing of the past. These days you couldn’t tap some guy’s bumper without media backlash. He hated that. Things would be different in XRL, Callie had assured him. As he slipped out of his car he realized he wanted that…almost as badly as he wanted Callie in his bed.

Burning Rubber

She greeted him as she had earlier, with a smile on her face, although not with a hug. That he would have to squeeze out of her himself, but not right now. No. He needed to hang back. To play his cards right, because the more he got to know her, the more convinced he became that she was someone he needed to date. She might have a hard time believing that fact, but he would have to convince her. So he pretended indifference. She did too. When the time came to leave, he said a polite goodbye to everyone—including Callie. She shook his hand, expressed her gratitude with sincerity shining from her eyes, but that was it. He went straight to the hotel she was supposed to have stayed in last night, which, he’d learned was the same hotel her crew was staying at. He’d unearthed that little tidbit of information earlier in the day, although he wished he could whisk her back to the bed and breakfast. Since he was supposed to have flown in this morning and then out this evening, he’d given his room up, but if things went as he planned… He knew it was a bold move. Some might even call it stalker-like. Truth be told, however, he hadn’t gotten to where he was today by taking a backseat to anyone or anything. The hotel she’d selected for the team’s stay in Kansas City was decidedly low-key, right off a freeway, and set amongst a bazillion other hotels and restaurants. The sound of highway traffic assaulted his ears the moment he left the car. It was one of those places with balconies on the outside and two floors of rooms. An assortment of vehicles sat outside: Pick-ups, passenger cars with luggage piled on top, construction trucks. He doubted she’d have gotten any sleep if she’d stayed there the previous evening. It was loud, even to his ears. “Do you have any rooms available?” he asked the woman behind the counter. “Let me check.” The blonde glanced in his direction. She did a double take. Derrick knew what was coming next. “You race cars!” He smiled politely. It was always the same. Actually, that wasn’t true. Sometimes he got the “I know you from someplace” speech. Usually he smiled and said he got that a lot, but some people were more persistent than others, running through a gamut of options all geared toward trying to solve the mystery of exactly how they knew him. Derrick never had the heart to tell them he was famous. That sounded so pretentious. More often than not, however, people like the gal behind the counter—Gloria according to her name badge—recognized him right away. So there was nothing he could say but, “I do.” “Are you here with that X-TREME racing thing?” She smiled, and Derrick admitted the woman was attractive. A few months ago he might have smiled back, but today all he did was shake his head. “Not really,” he shrugged. “I’m good friends with the team’s Vice President of Development.” “Oh, yeah?” The woman’s green eyes filled with an interest impossible to mistake.

www.samhainpublishing.com

71

Pamela Britton

“Yeah.” He gave her a polite smile. “Really, really good friends,” he said, hoping Gloria caught his drift, even though that “drift” wasn’t exactly the truth. “She’ll be a guest here tonight. Callie Monroe. I don’t suppose you have a room close to hers, do you?” Oh, yeah. Gloria got it. Like the snuffing of a flame, Gloria’s eyes flickered out. “Oh, ah. Sure. Let me look.” She tapped on some buttons. Derrick turned away. The lobby was tiny compared to the luxury hotels, the management apparently fond of silk trees. They’d been placed in every corner. “Hmm. Looks like the X-TREME Racing League has a whole block of rooms reserved. So unless your friend gives you one of those, the closet I can do is the room directly below hers.” “That’ll work.” With any luck he wouldn’t even need the bed. “Can I see a credit card and driver’s license?” she asked. Derrick did as instructed, turning away as she tapped the keyboard once again. He didn’t want Callie to see him checking in, so if she drove up, he planned on making a quick exit. Then what? He huffed a breath of silent laughter because he had no clue what he would do. This wasn’t his usually MO. Usually, women pursued him—like Gloria. For the first time in a long, long while he would actually have to think this through. Flowers? He shook his head. She didn’t seem the type. Dinner? That was an option, but she’d probably say no. So what did that leave? As it turned out, he had ample time to think about it. She didn’t make an appearance at the hotel until a couple of hours later. The sun had begun to set as she pulled up in a rental car she must have secured on her way to the hotel. Once again, she looked exhausted, although that might be a trick of the florescent lights buzzing into existence above their heads. She didn’t slip out of the car and trek slowly to her room. No. The moment her feet touched ground she headed back across the parking lot, on foot, toward the restaurant located next to the hotel. He knew what he would do then, waited until she was out of sight before following in her footsteps. It was one of those chain things, the kind with the same menu no matter which state you happened to be in. Even the smell was the same from state-to-state. The moment he opened the door he caught a whiff of bacon and eggs. “Just one?” the hostess said, marking something down on her seating chart before Derrick could reply otherwise. “Actually,” he scanned the interior. The tables were arranged along the front side of the building. “I’m meeting someone. Ah. There she is.” He’d spotted the back of Callie’s head.

72

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

He headed off without waiting for a retort although as he approached, he felt his steps slow. Now what? Maybe he really should have brought flowers. Instead he said, “Hey, Callie,” turning to face her with what he hoped was a pleasant smile on his face and not a sickly grimace that belied his nerves. Nervous? Crazy as it might seem, that’s exactly what he was. It didn’t make him feel any better to watch her mouth drop open. To spy the way her eyes widened behind her glasses, only to immediately narrow. “Don’t tell me you followed me here.” “Actually, I did.” He slipped into the seat opposite her with a squeak of vinyl. Water already sat on the table and since his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara Desert, he scooped the glass toward him and quickly took a swig. She didn’t say anything at first, her chin slowly swinging from side to side. Then she tipped her head to the left, a look of open curiosity on her face. That was yet another thing he liked about her. He could always tell exactly what she was thinking. “Are you that desperate?” He choked, the swig of water in his throat feeling like a ball of lead. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. I mean, I suppose it’s possible you’re here to congratulate me about this afternoon, but somehow I doubt that.” Was he that obvious? Apparently, he was. Oddly enough, he didn’t feel the least bit abashed. He leaned back in the booth, placed his hands on the table. What was wrong with laying it all out in the open? It’d be a refreshing change. “I told you what I wanted from you weeks ago.” “And I told you it’s a bad idea.” “Didn’t seem so bad when I was kissing you last night.” She was back to squinting at him again. He reached across the table and took the glasses from her face. “Hey,” she admonished “I’ve been dying to do that all day.” She made a grab for the frames. He put the things on the seat next to him. “Give those back to me.” “Not yet. I want to see into your eyes.” “And I need to see.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

73

Pamela Britton

“You’re farsighted, but your vision isn’t too bad close up. You mostly wear these as a defense mechanism.” “Excuse me?” “You don’t want men to notice how attractive you are, probably because you’ve had to work hard to keep your sexuality at bay. If you used as much paint as Veronica the Pirahnica, men would see what a beauty you are. You’d be fighting them off with a stick instead of being treated with the respect you’re due.” She leaned against her seat. “Is that what you think?” she asked, although it wasn’t really a question. “But here’s the thing, I wouldn’t give a shit if you were as ugly as a crone. It’s your mind I’m attracted to.” That got a reaction, although not the one he was looking for. She threw back her head and laughed. “Yeah, right.” “Seriously,” he immediately contradicted, making a grab for her hands. He caught them, clutching them tightly. “I’m smitten. I want to get to know you, Callie. Yeah, I’d like to go to bed with you. I won’t deny it. But I’m sensitive to your concerns.” He released her hands, leaned back. “So we’ll take it slow.” For now, he privately added. Until after dinner. When he walked her back to her room. Then he’d make his move. That he promised.

74

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twelve

He was a perfect gentleman the rest of the evening, but Callie knew he had something up his sleeve. His eyes held a gleam, one she knew she shouldn’t trust, but that elevated her pulse nonetheless. It was twisted. She knew it. She shouldn’t be titillated by his dishonesty. He was just trying to play her. Take it slow, indeed. He was going to make a move on her tonight. She just knew it. And she wanted him to. Fool. Veronica would have her head. Funny thing, though. After today’s test, Callie knew the X-TREME league would work. And so the hell with Veronica. She’d stolen enough of her thunder. “Think I’ll head back to my room.” She stood up suddenly. Derrick’s brows shot up. “But I haven’t paid the bill yet.” “I know. That’ll give me time to freshen up.” If she’d thought his eyes had widened before, that was nothing compared to the look on his face now. Callie actually had to hold back a laugh. “Here’s my room card.” She waved the thing in front of him. “290. See you in a few.” She turned away before she could change her mind, but not before the expression on Derrick’s face changed to one giant glob of anticipation. The heat in his eyes could have blasted a hole in the side of a mountain. What would it be like to have him kiss her again? She was about to find out. “Wait.” He threw some bills on the table. It was a wad of cash—probably too much—he apparently didn’t care. “I’ll walk with you.” Probably afraid she’d change her mind. He must not know how hard her heart pounded. How her hands shook. How just knowing he was about to follow her to her room made electricity dance along her nerve endings. If he had known he wouldn’t have been so worried. She might be about to make the biggest mistake of her life, but today—the day she’d watched a car of her own creation zip around a race track— she just didn’t care. And he’d driven that car. For some strange reason that made it all the more erotic. “Are you sure you don’t want to freshen up too?”

Pamela Britton

His eyes swept her up and down as he fell into step alongside of her. “We can freshen up together.” Lord, he was good. She had to turn away to keep him from seeing how his words affected her. Still, she would bet he could see the radiant glow of her cheeks. She was like a damn lightening rod. If he’d held a voltage meter toward her, he would have heard the thing ping off the charts, especially with him right next to her like he was. His gaze rested upon her as they left the restaurant. She must have changed her mind half a dozen times as she crossed the parking lot. In the end it was the thought of Veronica that sealed the deal. Just once she’d like to trump the woman. Just once she’d like to be the one to get the man. So when she reached her hotel room door, she jerked the card through the electronic slider quickly, the door opening with a beep. She used her hip to push the thing wide open. She didn’t even give him a moment to step through before turning back to him and jerking him into the room. “Hey,” he shot in surprise. “Strip.” His brows lifted up to his hairline. “Excuse me?” “Before I change my mind.” Her fingers tingled the adrenaline rushed through her so fiercely. Still, she took the fatal first step. Without giving herself time to think, she tossed her glasses on a nearby table and then jerked her black polo shirt from the waistband of her jeans. It slid off at the same time the door clicked closed behind her. Cool air caused goose pimples to sprout across her abdomen. It was either that or the way his gaze dropped to her breasts. His eyes seemed to narrow slightly, and then begin to glitter in a way that was pure, unadulterated, sexual interest. Derrick Derringer wanted to screw her. Wicked, horrible, naughty word, “screw”, but she wasn’t about to kid herself. There was no gooey look of love on his face. No softness. No tenderness. He wanted her. Anticipated spreading her legs and thrusting into her. She could see that on his face. She dashed over to the window and jerked the drapes closed. When she turned back, he’d stripped out his shirt too, and the reality of Derrick Derringer without his shirt was much better than the magazine spread she’d perused once upon a time. “I’m scared.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I mean, I’m not scared of having sex with you. I’ve had sex with men before. So it’s not like I’m a virgin or anything. I just don’t have a lot of experience. My engine’s not very broken in—if you catch my drift.” She was rambling. She knew it. Was helpless to stop it. His hands dropped to his waist. He slid the metal button of his jeans free.

76

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I mean, I have a few hours on my motor, but nothing to write home about. So if you’re expecting great things—” He wasn’t wearing his boxers today. She about swallowed wrong. She would have figured him to be the boxer type, not brief. “Get undressed, Callie.” “Oh, um, sure.” Suddenly she was horribly, ridiculously shy. That was his penis jutting out there—and Derrick had a large one. “But I warn you, it’s been awhile.” He closed the distance between them. Callie almost choked again. “I wouldn’t care if you’ve never had sex in your life.” Given her past history with men, that statement wasn’t too far off the mark. “Can I kiss you?” Could he kiss her? She almost laughed. “Sure.” She stood there in her pants and bra and wondered if he wanted her to get undressed before or after he kissed her— Then he bent his head. She knew then he was in no hurry to see her naked, that he was actually taking things kind of slow because he didn’t kiss her lickety-split. He took his time, snuggling up next to her, the knowledge that his…well, his you-know hung between them, causing her to blush. And to burn. And to lose the ability to breathe. He drew back, peered into her eyes. “Don’t be scared.” He kissed her again. Softly, tenderly, gently kissed her, his lips so smooth and so warm for a second she wondered if it was real. Then the pressure increased and his breath whispered against her face and she knew she wasn’t dreaming and that Derrick Derringer—NASCAR star—was about to make her toes curl in pleasure.

Her body trembled. It made his heart melt. There could be no other explanation as to why he felt a pool of warmth—not down below—but in his chest. Right beneath is rib cage. Maybe that was why his breath caught as he kissed her because suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, he felt the most indescribable urge to pull back. To just hold her. To relish this brief moment in time when she was his to have. “Callie,” he murmured against her lips. Softly, as if whispered on a breath, his name was repeated back to him. “Derrick.” He guided her to the bed. Gently. He didn’t want to scare her, because if she knew how hard it was for him not to scoop her up in his arms, to rip her clothes off and take her right then, it might frighten her all

www.samhainpublishing.com

77

Pamela Britton

the more. He’d never felt such a conflicting mass of emotions for a woman before. On one hand he wanted to kiss her senseless. To ravish her—a silly word that he’d never used before. On the other hand he wanted to savor each moment. The back of her legs hit the bed. He knew he could pressure her onto it, but he was surprised to note he liked taking it slow. Even just touching his lips to hers. He hadn’t even parted her mouth yet, but he could have inhaled her sweet breath all day. She was the one to open her mouth. It unleashed a need in him that rocked him with its intensity. Her tongue slid between his lips, the heat of her seeping into his mouth, his crotch throbbing in response. He still refused to rush things. Marveled at how content he was to stand there and kiss her. She was the one to move. The one to drop her kisses to his chin, then the side of his neck, and then his chest, his whole body growing rigid when she didn’t stop there. Oh, no. She dropped even lower, pausing for a moment by his nipple, then moving ever closer to his belly and—ah, God—she was going to do it wasn’t she? She was going to take him in her mouth. “Callie,” he groaned. He shouldn’t be surprised, he thought. If anyone was the type to be the aggressor, it was Callie. When her tongue caressed the tip of him, he should have been prepared for the effect it would have on him. He wasn’t. He about shot his load right then and there. “Callie,” he moaned in part warning, part horror. What the hell was wrong with him? Never, ever had he— She took him in her mouth. “Holy crap…Callie,” he warned, trying to pull back before it was too late. She wouldn’t let him go. Or was he incapable of halting things? To be honest, he didn’t know what he wanted. All he knew was the sweet pleasure of her lips was something he didn’t want to stop. When she took a hold of him next, her hand mimicking the motion of her mouth, he died and went to heaven a thousand times over. “Crap,” he heard himself mutter at the same time he rested his hands on her head. Not to stop her. No. To encourage her. To run his fingers through her hair as she worked her mouth up and down his shaft. “I’m going to lose it, Callie,” he warned. She either didn’t hear him or she didn’t care and Derrick knew he’d spoken the truth. He would spill himself in her mouth if he didn’t stop things soon. “Callie,” he warned again. She pulled away, Derrick nearly groaning. “I want you to come,” she said softly. The words nearly caused him to do exactly that.

78

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Not now.” His hands still stroked her dark hair. “Not yet.” “Yes, now.” She took him in her mouth again. “Callie,” he hissed this time because he was there. Right there. On the verge. His legs had begun to tremble. Somehow, she managed to take all of him, the warm depths of her mouth capturing every last inch and all he could do was mutter, “Oh, shit,” as he leaned his head back, the ceiling turning into a white blob above his head. “Callie,” he groaned, his hips following her motion. And then he came. He couldn’t stop it, tried, failed, a cry of pleasure seeming to be wrenched out of him. She took him. All of him. Every last drop. “Shit,” he heard himself mutter as the spasms slowly faded. “Shit, shit, shit.” He heard the knocking then. Actually, it was more of a bang. Several bangs. Then the words, “Hey! What’s going on in there?” Callie looked up at him, moist lips parted, a glimmer of horror in her eyes. “No way.” Way, he silently countered. There was little doubt who was on the other side of the door. Veronica the Pirahnica.

www.samhainpublishing.com

79

Chapter Thirteen

“Open the door, Callie.” No, no, no. This could not be happening. “I know you’re in there.” “Don’t move,” she hissed up at Derrick, making a dive for her top an instant later. Maybe she could hide Derrick in the bathroom. “And I know Derrick’s in there with you.” Okay, so maybe not. Maybe they should just not move. Maybe Veronica would go away. “And if you don’t open the door, I’ll have the manager do it for me. Or have you forgotten this is one of the hotel chains my family owns?” Oh, good Lord. She wouldn’t go that far, would she? This is Veronica we’re talking about. “Stay,” Callie warned Derrick. She slowly stood. Lord, he was still naked. She’d sucked him like a Pixie Stick “No. Get dressed,” she hissed. Because she wouldn’t put it past Veronica to barge into the room. She’d done it before. “Just a second, Veronica,” Callie called as she slid her polo shirt over her head. Thank God it wasn’t a button down. It was relatively easy to tuck the thing into the waistband of her pants. She was about ready to cross to the door when she suddenly darted back and grabbed the TV remote. She clicked the On button, biting back an oath of frustration when she had to punch buttons to get to the actual television programs. She scrolled through her options, looking for something to do with sports. Anything sport-like. Preferably something that dealt with grunting. A football game came up. Perfect. Derrick was just pulling on his shirt when she turned back. She slowed her steps so she could open the door right as he finished, stalling for a moment as she fumbled with the privacy chain—as if it’d been attached instead of merely hanging there in disuse. “Veronica, hi.” Callie tucked her hair behind her ear. “Wow. I sure didn’t expect to see you.” Veronica’s stunning green eyes glittered. It really wasn’t fair someone so beautiful could have such an ugly heart.

Burning Rubber

“I bet.” She took a step toward Callie, obviously expecting Callie to move out of the way because she nearly collided with Callie’s chest when Callie did the exact opposite. “Is there something I could do for you?” Callie asked, smiling up at her boss politely. “You can let me into your room.” Clearly impatient Veronica tried to wedge her way through again. “Actually, now’s not a good time.” Which caused Veronica to step back, her long, red hair swishing over one shoulder. She crossed her arms. “I bet.” Her eyes raked her up and down. “How long have you two been going at it?” “I beg your pardon?” Callie asked, feigning innocence. “Give me a break, Callie. I could hear him.” “What?” she asked again. Man. She should be nominated for an Academy Award. “Oh, that. It was just the TV.” She stepped back a fraction of an inch so Veronica could see the TV playing. “I turned it down. I’m actually in the middle of reviewing today’s test results and I wanted a little white noise.” Veronica’s jaw tensed. Callie could tell she’d lost patience. “You’re fucking Derrick.” She thrust her upper body forward. “Derrick, you in there? Don’t worry. I won’t fire your little Playboy Bunny.” “Playboy Bunny,” Callie scoffed. “Hardly.” “Well.” Veronica gave her a look that could have poisoned a witch’s cauldron. “Not in the physical sense. That’s for sure.” “Not in any sense.” Callie prayed to the good lord above Derrick remained quiet. “I’m working.” Callie’s mouth had a hard time working her jaw was so tense. “So if this could wait until tomorrow, I’d appreciate it.” Veronica shifted her weight, tapped a foot on the ground. Callie knew she debated whether or not plunge farther into Callie’s room, but Callie made sure her stance indicated she would have to knock her down to do so. “Fine.” Veronica crossed her arms. “Have it your way. I’ll leave you to him. But if I catch you together—” What? Callie wanted to ask. What would she do? Fire her? In the middle of their first test session? Callie didn’t think so. The realization filled her with a heady sense of bravado. “Call me later and we can schedule a time to chat.” Veronica’s look clearly screamed the words, “Schedule an appointment?” “I’m promise to make time for you,” Callie added. “You better,” the woman all but snarled. “As soon as you’re…done.” She sniffed disdainfully. “With your data,” she tacked on, all the condescension in the world pronounced in that one word. “Sure thing.” Callie stepped back from the door and closed it gently, but she lost her bravado the moment the door clicked shut. She rested against the heavy wood. Or metal. Or whatever the hell the damn thing was.

www.samhainpublishing.com

81

Pamela Britton

“You mind telling me why you don’t want Veronica knowing about us?” “’Cause she’ll make my life hell,” Callie groaned, turning to face him. “You have no idea how miserable that woman can be.” “Actually, I do. It’s why I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. Not even if I had gloves. And a gas mask. And my rabies shot.” She should be smiling. Callie knew he was trying to make her do exactly that, but she couldn’t muster the energy.” “About earlier.” She mustered enough courage to look him in the eye. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. “You are not going to hand me the ‘mistake’ excuse.” Could he read her so easily? “I wasn’t going to say that,” she said, even though she’d been about to use those exact words. “I was going to say that this really shouldn’t happen.” He huffed out a breath of laughter. “Oh, it’ll happen.” “No, wait.” “For you.” He closed the distance between them. “I’m going to make you scream so loudly the people in the next room will call 911.” Her nipples hardened at the thought. Damn. That’s all he had to do was put the words in her mind and it felt as if he was actually doing it to her. “Derrick—” “Shh.” He cupped the side of her face. “It’s your turn, Callie.” “No.” She shook her head. “I can’t. We need to get you out of here before Veronica sees you.” “She’s probably hanging around outside right now.” He glanced toward the door. “You know it and I know it. Might as well have some fun while we’re waiting for her to leave.” “Derrick—” “C’mon, Callie. Let me return the favor.” “No.” She refused to give ground. If ever she needed a reminder of just why, exactly, getting involved with Derrick was a bad idea, Veronica was it. Not because she’d threatened her. Veronica was always trying to bully her in some way. No. It was more that when Callie had opened the door, and seen Veronica standing there, she’d been reminded instantly of what she was up against. Women like Veronica. Gorgeous, intelligent women as skinny as corn stalks. Women with one thing on their mind: Landing superstar race car driver Derrick Derringer. “I really do have work to do.” He appeared dumfounded. There was no other way to describe the widening of his eyes, the slack jaw, the lifted brows. “You want to work?” Instead of screwing each others’ brains out.

82

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I don’t want to work. I need to work. If I spend all night—” Doing the nasty. “playing around,” she said instead, “I’ll pay for it tomorrow. I need to go over the data sets. Need to look at what I can do to improve the cars.” “Nothing,” he quickly interjected. “The cars are fine. And what I want to do to you will only take a matter of minutes.” Why, oh why, did he have to look at her that way? As if he’d like to lick her up and down and inside out. She squirmed, the desire in his eyes was so potent. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.” She’d stunned him. She could tell. She’d frustrated him as well. That expression was equally apparent judging by the suddenly flat line of his lips and the way he crossed his arms in front of him. “Call me next week. Maybe we can pencil some time together between now and our first race.” “Pencil some time—” His arms uncrossed. “Look, Callie, maybe you’ve misunderstood me. This isn’t some quick romp in the hay I’m after. I want you, sure. Crap. After what you just did to me, I want you even more. But I don’t want sex. I mean, I do, but not like that. You mean more to me than that. You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who makes me think of—” he shook his head a bit, obviously trying to put things into words, “—I don’t know. Maybe getting serious with you or something.” Maybe getting serious? She didn’t know if she should be flattered or insulted. “Derrick. Come on. We both know I’m not your type.” The look of careful consideration on his face slowly morphed into dismay. “What makes you say that?” She shook her head. It was her turn to grapple with words. “You’re man-candy. Women want to eat you up.” She’d eaten him up. But enough of that. It’d been a moment of weakness, nothing more. “So? What does that have to do with us?” “I’m realistic.” She shrugged. “You forget, I’ve hung around race car drivers my entire life and I know what goes on.” “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” “Men like you change female partners as often as their shirts.” “Men like me,” he repeated. “Race car drivers,” she clarified. “So you won’t date me because of my vocation?” She pondered the question for a moment. “Yup.” “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I’ve never met a woman who could make me come one minute and then frustrate the hell out of me the next.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

83

Pamela Britton

“I wonder if I could sneak you out somehow.” She went to the window and peered out of the curtains. She had no idea what type of car Veronica drove or where she might be parked. Crap, for all she knew her boss could be lying in wait the next room down. “Maybe I should leave. You could follow me out in a halfhour or so. That’s a good idea.” “No,” he cried, stepping in front of her. “I’m not going to let you walk away.” “You have no choice.” “Yes, I do. Damn it, Callie. Don’t you feel it? Can’t you see what you do to me?” He grabbed her hand, placed it against his crotch. He was still hard. “You just made me come and yet look.” He pressed harder. “Look.” His head lowered. For a moment, for half a heartbeat, she weakened as his lips drew nearer. Every stupid fantasy she’d ever had about the man could come true, and that was it. He was a fantasy. Something she should put on a shelf and admire from afar. To touch him, to give into the urge to be with him, to embark upon a night of erotic indulgence, that would be dangerous. Like any shiny object up on a shelf, it was better kept behind glass. Otherwise, it might break. Either that or he might break her. That was the real reason why she stepped away. Why she found herself slipping past him and grabbing her purse. “I’m sorry, Derrick. I can’t.” “But you want to. I can see it in your eyes.” She lifted her head. “I do. I couldn’t have done what I did to you earlier if I didn’t want to…if I didn’t think…” She shook her head, decided to be brutally blunt. “If I wasn’t attracted to you, I wouldn’t want to fuck your brains out.” His eyes flared. “But I won’t,” she added. “Because no matter what you say, that’s all it’d be. Fucking. And when your attraction to me began to fade, you’d be off with the next woman.” “Callie—” “No.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve made up my mind. Thanks for everything, Derrick. I hope you decide to join the XRL, but if you don’t, I hope you know how sincerely I appreciate all you did for us today.” “Damn it—” She didn’t wait around to hear what else he had to say. It might have been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do, but somehow she opened her hotel room door and left him standing in her room. But not without wondering if she’d just made the biggest mistake in her life.

84

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Fourteen

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want numbers presented to me like this?” The sheaf of papers Veronica tossed on Callie’s desk took on the appearance of confetti as they fluttered across the surface of her desk. “I’m not a damn accountant, Callie.” Veronica’s voice all but dripped malice. “Just give me the bottom line. That’s all.” It’d been this way all month, Callie thought, a beam of sunlight arcing off the surface of her desk and creasing a prism on the lenses of her glasses. Ever since Veronica had caught her in bed with Derrick— well, not really in bed, but close enough—she’d been a bitch on heels. Sure, the rest of the test session had gone well, and almost all of the drivers who’d shown up had agreed to sign on, but that didn’t seem to matter. Callie was convinced the only reason why she didn’t fire her was because Veronica needed her too much. “Maybe I should do a cover sheet from here on out.” Callie’s body began to grow warm, and not from the sun’s rays cascading through the window at her back. She flushed with chagrin and, yes, even anger. Outside, Los Angeles went about its business. Helicopters buzzed overhead. Cars did battle on the freeway. Callie wished she was out there with people, maybe walking through the park she could glimpse between high rise buildings. “You know, summarize things for you that way.” “Whatever.” Please leave, please leave, please leave. “Have you heard from Derrick?” Not again. “No, Veronica, I haven’t heard from Derrick.” Because she hadn’t called, and he certainly wasn’t about to call her after she’d left him in the dust, which was fine by her…wasn’t it? Callie swore her boss could read her inner thoughts. Veronica’s green eyes glittered, but that could be her inner kitty-cat making its presence known because Veronica wasn’t asking for business purposes. Veronica wanted to see Callie squirm. Her boss was still chaffed Callie had stolen the march on Derrick. Callie was certain of it. Over the past few weeks she’d reasoned out that it made Veronica feel better to think she and Derrick had shared a night together, and then Callie had been promptly dumped. Asking the question over and over and over again was meant to be a reminder of how miserably Callie had failed in

Pamela Britton

bringing Derrick to heel. She obviously thought Callie was the one who’d been dumped—not that she was the dumper. “Have you called him?” “Several times,” although that wasn’t precisely true. She’d told Derrick to call her if he was interested in driving for the X-TREME league, but he hadn’t. Callie flat-out refused to call again. “Then call him once more,” Veronica said with a superior flick of her head. “Why bother? Apparently he was only curious about the league. Probably wanted to see what we were all about, nothing more.” “Then you should go see him. Sell him on the idea.” “I can’t do that. He’s made his decision, Veronica. He doesn’t want to participate in the league.” “Jeez.” Veronica crossed her arms in front of her and jutted a hip out. “What do I have to do? Complete all the work myself? It’s up to you to convince him, Callie. That’s what I pay you for.” Callie stripped off a layer of enamel she ground her teeth together so hard. Veronica paid her next to nothing given the number of hats Callie wore. Every time Callie had approached her about how little she was making, Veronica would dismiss her with an imperious wave of her hand and a vague promise one day things would change. Yeah, right. “Maybe this is something you should do yourself,” Callie challenged. “Obviously, I’m not up to the task.” Her boss’s eyes glittered. Callie could tell she was debating whether or not to do exactly that, but in the end Veronica’s inner Wicked Witch of the West must have won out. “That’s not my job. It’s your job.” “Veronica, really—” “I’ll have Mary book a flight,” Veronica interjected, cutting her off and turning partially toward the door. “You’ll leave tomorrow.” “I don’t have time. We have another test session in two weeks, I need to finalize the numbers for the track near southern California that’s holding our July race next year, drivers to call, blueprints to review—” “All that can wait.” Veronica swung around so quickly her red hair flew out behind her. She paused at the door, green eyes glittering. “And you better have good news for me when you get back.” Her knuckles burned she clenched her hands so tightly. “Yes, sir,” she muttered under her breath. Veronica didn’t hear. She was already out the door, closing it behind her with a thud verging on a door slam. “Damn it,” Callie thought, twisting her chair so she faced the wall of windows behind her desk, her glasses nearly flung from her face she jerked around so hard. Too bad I can’t jump.

86

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Still, no matter how easy Veronica thought it might be, in the long run it turned out to be not so simple. It was the end of the race season and Derrick was in the hunt for a year-end championship. That meant a packed schedule full of driver appearances, sponsor obligations and a whole host of other duties— not to mention driving in races—that made setting up an appointment nearly impossible. “He wants you to meet him at a track,” Mary, who’d been promoted to Veronica’s secretary, told her a few hours later. “I told him we’d take what we could get.” Mary smiled, the middle-aged woman the polar opposite of her over-bearing boss. That must be why they got along. Nasty versus nice. “He is such a nice man. I can’t believe he never called you back.” “He probably meant to, but got too busy,” Callie improvised. Lord, she hoped the woman didn’t ask Derrick about the zillions of phone calls Callie had supposedly made. “Oh, I’m sure of it. He seemed genuinely delighted to hear you wanted to meet with him.” Callie’s face burned. Good lord, he didn’t think— He wasn’t under the impression that she— “What did he say?” “Only that he looked forward to seeing you.” Oh, dear. He probably did think she’d changed her mind about jumping into bed with him. “Terrific,” Callie lied, the smile she shot Mary undoubtedly like that of a skeleton it was so unnatural. “You leave in the morning. I sent your tickets to you electronically. Have a great flight.” Have a great flight, she silently mimicked. Not bloody likely.

Derrick felt like a teenager about to go on his first date. “You’ll call me the minute she arrives, won’t you?” he asked his PR rep, Diane. He moved his pen across yet another scrap of paper held in his direction, signing his name across the top of a picture of his own face. Judging by the length of the line wrapped around the souvenir hauler, he’d be at this for awhile. “I mean that minute.” “Derrick.” Diane looked heavenward. “I told you I’m on it.” When Derrick glanced at this newest addition to his team—the athletic-looking brunette nearly as tall as he was and twice his age—he spotted the tale-tale sign of curiosity on her face. Not surprising. The fact that he’d tested one of the X-TREME Racing League’s cars had been front page news in the Sports section. He’d had to do some fancy foot work to avoid getting into trouble with his team owner. Fortunately, he had an excuse. Since his lawyers were still messing around with the terms and conditions of his next contract, he didn’t feel his owner had the right to tell him what he could and could not do as he hypothetically explored other opportunities. He’d made his point perfectly clear, and if he were honest with himself, his visit to Missouri and his subsequent outing by the media had been a blessing in disguise. His car owner had

www.samhainpublishing.com

87

Pamela Britton

undergone a dramatic attitude adjustment. He could only imagine what his car owner would think when he discovered the Vice President of Development of the league responsible for his owner’s discomfort had flown out to visit him. No wonder Diane studied him so intently. “Can you make it out to Karen?” asked a barrel-chested woman with gray hair. She wore sunglasses, the glass countertop serving as his desk reflected back to him in his lenses. “She’s my daughter and she’s a huge fan.” “Sure.” Derrick scrawled his name, wishing he was anywhere but inside the back of a big rig, the heat of the morning sun radiating off the asphalt. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful to his fans. After a dozen or more years in a career that’d had its ups and downs, he was smart enough to know it was foolish to take anything for granted. Still, it was hard to focus on signing autographs—getting the name straight, spelling it right, thinking of a special message from time to time—when all he wanted to do was see Callie. He wanted her. It’d been hell not calling. Unfortunately the key to winning her was to back off. If she hadn’t called him by the end of the month, he’d have taken the initiative. Thank God she had called him. He smiled. “You’re my favorite driver,” said a middle-aged man. Derrick smiled politely back. It was something he heard at least twenty times a day, sometimes while signing autographs, sometimes called out to him while being driven from media appearance to media appearance, most of the time when he was in the garage, fans lining up against the fence. He appreciated the compliments, he really did, but today he wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. “She’s here.” He’d been right in the middle of signing his name, the pen pausing mid-stroke, head snapping up. “She’s getting her credentials right now,” Diane said, her fingers pressing against her ear bud. “She should be through the credential line in about twenty minutes.” He glanced at his watch, the sun arching off the face of it for a moment and temporarily blinding him. He should be about done here in that amount of time. The smile he gave the next person was genuine. Now that he knew she’d arrived, that she hadn’t chickened out at the last moment, he felt about ten pounds lighter. “How you doin’ today?” he asked a man with a grey beard. Always amazed him how diversified his fan base was. “Great now that I finally get to meet you.” He spent the next few minutes engaged in conversation, Derrick counting the minutes until he could hop in the golf cart painted to match his black and white race car and run off to meet Callie. He’d told Diane to take her to his motorcoach, something he rarely did where women were concerned. Unlike most of

88

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

his fellow drivers, he didn’t enjoy dating more than one woman at a time. Sure, there was a time when he’d been younger when it’d been exciting to play the field. Not so much anymore. Now it seemed…old. “Okay, folks,” Diane announced. “That’s it for the day.” There were groans, but Diane knew the drill. She held up pre-signed race cards. “Feel free to grab one of these.” And they were off, the crowd behind him descending upon the colorful promotional item like they were dollar bills. “Let me guess,” Diane said as she led him down the length of the big rig, the crew that sold merchandise during race weekend waving goodbye. “You want me to take you straight to your hauler.” Derrick nodded. He would bet Diane thought he was on his way to a romantic tryst. That the XTREME Racing League thing was all a cover. Either way it was frankly none of her business. Now his old PR rep, Patti, he would have told her everything. Like so many things connected to the sport or racing, the employees he dealt with seemed to change faster than the lug nuts on his car. They arrived in record time, the track where he was racing relatively small compared to other places, so it was a hop, skip and a jump to the infield where his motorcoach awaited. It looked like a recreational vehicle dealership in the driver/owner lot. His personal bus—because that’s what they were—was painted black and red, the crimson portions resembling the tendrils of a jelly fish as they snaked their way along the sides of the vehicle. A nearly identical bus sat on either side, although one was dark blue and the other was brown, but they all had shiny chrome rims and a row of blacked-out windows along the side. “Don’t forget, you have qualifying in an hour.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was always something. Sometimes he felt like a rat on a wheel. Go here, go there. Do this, do that. It’d practically taken an act of God to carve out time to spend with Callie. “Is she inside?” he asked. “Yup,” and Diane’s eyes twinkled. “I asked Matt to put some champagne on ice.” Matt was his motorcoach pilot, man of all trades and general gopher during race weekends. Every driver had one. “It’s not like that.” Derrick tipped his chin down, peering at Diane over the rim of his sunglasses. “No?” “No,” he echoed, although he hoped it might be. Then again, he wasn’t certain what Callie was up to. Someone from her office had set up their meeting. He’d been tempted to call and ask her what that meant, but feared he might scare her off if he sounded too anxious to see her. “Good.” She gave him a wide smile. “Then I don’t have to worry about finding you in your skivvies when I come back in an hour.” Derrick decided then and there he liked this new PR representative of his. “No, you don’t.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

89

Pamela Britton

He hopped out of the golf cart, anticipation a steady presence in the pit of his stomach. His hands shook as he punched in the pass code on the number pad, the beep-beep-beeps followed by a slight pause before he heard the door click open. This was it. He had a feeling whatever was about to happen, it would change his life forever.

90

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Fifteen

Mr. Derringer, I’d like to talk to you about joining the X-TREME Racing League one last time. No. That didn’t sound right. Mr. Derringer, I’m sure you’re aware of how badly we want you. No. That was terrible. The door beeped. Callie’s heart, which had already been pounding like a contractor’s hammer, hit a whole new level. When the lock clicked open, her fingers dug into her jean-clad legs. When the door started to swing open, she pushed her glasses up her nose and pasted a polite smile on her face, the picture of demure professionalism, or so she hoped. “Callie?” he called, peeking his dark head in, the sudden brightness in the room causing her to blink. He wore sunglasses and a black polo shirt and as he climbed the steps and entered the spacious bus. She was kidding herself. The moment—the very instant she spotted him—all she could think of was the last time she’d seen him, and what she’d done to him, and how it had thrilled her to hear his cry of release, and the thought of doing it to him again. Well… She squirmed on the couch as if doing so would soothe the itch tickling her sex drive. “I missed you,” he pronounced. He meant it. The moment he whipped off his sunglasses she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Yes, well. Mr. Derringer, thank you for meeting to agree with me today. I mean,” she shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Agreeing to meet with me today.” “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “The X-TREME Racing League needs you, Mr. Derringer.” “What about you?” He edged closer. “Did you miss me?” Yes. Every day. “We’re offering competitive purses. An easier schedule. Faster cars—” “Shut up.” She jerked her head up. “Excuse me.” “I want you to answer me, Callie.” He squatted down next to her and—oh, Lord—placed a hand on her knee. “Did you miss me?” No. Don’t be silly. Of course not. “Yes,” she muttered miserably. He gave her a smile so gentle, she wanted to cry.

Pamela Britton

Callie knew what he would do next. Her whole body quivered in anticipation. Now’s the time to put a stop to this, Callie. The voice in her head was shrill. Veronica’s voice. Snotty. Bitchy. Snarky. To hell with you, Veronica.

She jumped him. Derrick didn’t know what surprised him more. The way she suddenly jerked his head toward her, or the way she hooked a leg around the back of his thighs, tripping him, forcing him down on top of her. He didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to act fast, before that damn fool of a brain of hers sent off warning claxons. He pulled his lips from her mouth and latched onto her neck, nipping and licking and suckling the sensitive flesh just beneath her ear until he felt her shudder and moan and tip her head to the side to allow him better access. To hell with slow. Slow didn’t work. There. That was better. He didn’t give her any chance to balk as he slid his hand between them, down her pants. Last time she’d made him come like a teenager. This time it was her turn. His hand slipped the button on her jeans free, wedged his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans next, pausing only when he found the elastic band of her underwear. He scaled the edges of those, his fingers finding the soft skin of her center. She jerked her hips. He knew what she wanted, was happy to give it to her, his fingers dipping into the soft folds of her womanhood. “Derrick,” she keened. He nipped her earlobe at the same time he lightly pinched her. She jerked. He pressed harder. She’d begun to pant and when he drew back for a moment, he found her eyes were closed, her glasses having slid off the side of her nose to hang there like she was Mrs. Claus. He smiled, his heart softening at the sight. Her mouth had parted too. He took advantage of the opening, slipping his tongue inside her mouth and lapping at her sweet softness. She’d gotten into a rhythm now, her hips moving toward his hand, then away, then toward him again. Over and over and over again. He knew she was close. Any minute and she’d rocket into the stratosphere. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Not without tasting her first. The zipper of her jeans had worked its way down. It took him less than a heartbeat to strip them to her knees, her underwear sliding part of the way down. When he glanced up at her, he nearly gulped at the look in her eyes. Gone was the cool professional who’d greeted him at the door. In her place lay a sultry vixen taunting him to do her with her eyes. He thought he imagined the look until she somehow managed to

92

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

swing her legs over the top of him and kick off her shoes at the same time. His huff of surprised laughter turned to a groan of desire when she shucked off her jeans and underwear in a single move. Her shirt came off next, then her bra and her glasses, her entire body exposed to his view in a matter of seconds. Holy crap. He’d known there were curves beneath that buttoned down exterior, but, wow. Her hands found his zipper. He batted her hands away. “No.” “Derrick—” He flipped one of her legs over his head so she lay open to him. She was one of those women who waxed regularly, her bare skin an open invitation to feast on her mound, and for some reason the thought turned him on, his dick swelling in anticipation of the pleasure to come. He’d shifted down her body before she could stop him. He’d been craving the taste of her. Had lain awake at night fantasizing about what she would be like if he finally managed to get her in his bed. Had imagined her sweet moans as he brought her to a climax. Sweet. Salty. Hot. That’s what she tasted like. God damn, his whole body spasmed in response, Derrick’s own juices oozing. She’d about made him come—and she hadn’t even touched him. “Derrick.” Derrick didn’t let up for an instant. He delved deeper, his tongue finding her center. “Oh, shit,” he heard her cry. She’d begun to swell, her body’s salty essence causing a groan to catch deep in his throat. When she began to move as she had earlier, up and down, side-to-side, he knew it’d be a matter of moments. Knew she’d come in his mouth as he’d come inside hers. He delved even deeper, suckled her sweet button, used his tongue to dip into her center. She’d spread her legs as far as they would go, drove herself against his mouth. Hard. Fast. Her moans increasing in tempo until, finally, she screamed, back arching, hot, sultry fluid flooding his mouth. He gobbled it down, felt a tiny orgasm roll through his own body in response. Fuck me, he thought. Never had he come without a woman touching him. “Derrick,” he heard her cry. “Give it to me. I want you. Now.” Now? Was this his little engineer? The woman who’d conceived the X-TREME Racing League? The person who’d given him a hard-on not just with her body—although there was that too—but with the cars she’d designed? “Derrick,” she ordered again when he didn’t move fast enough. He thrust himself up her body with his knees. “Protection?” he ground out through clenched teeth, reason returning for a brief instant.

www.samhainpublishing.com

93

Pamela Britton

“Screw it,” she said. “Callie,” he warned. “I won’t be able to stop myself from coming inside you.” “Don’t care,” she panted, her hips on the move again. “Fuck me, Derrick. Now.” “Shit,” Callie heard him groan. “Shit, shit, shit.” She locked her heels around him, urging him inside. He tipped his head back when he plunged inside. She wouldn’t allow him a moment to collect himself, used her body to get him to thrust deeper, harder, faster. In that moment he knew she didn’t care at all that he was Derrick Derringer. She could give a rat’s ass who he was. She wanted him, just him…like he wanted her. Now. No strings. No complications. Just wild, uncomplicated sex. “Deeper,” she ordered. He gave it to her. His cock flexed, hardened, grew thicker. He’d reached a critical mass. The heat of his ejaculation filled her at the exact moment he cried out in pleasure. She screamed, hooked her legs around him tighter, drawing him in deeper. God, he couldn’t fuck her fast enough. “Derrick,” she screamed. With each pulse of pleasure he could hear her sigh in delight. Her hips lifted, locked into position. Slowly, reluctantly, they both floated back to earth, though Derrick hated it. He wanted to do it again. To recapture the erotic intensity of coming inside of her. He shifted a bit, drew back to look into her eyes. “Hot damn, Callie. If I’d known it would be like that with you, I’d have jumped you sooner.”

94

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Sixteen

He didn’t jump her, she’d jumped him. It was a moot point and Callie decided not to argue the issue. Truth be told, she’d begun to feel a bit self-conscious. They’d reached the awkward moment, the point when sanity returned and something close to embarrassment caused her cheeks to burn. Fuck me, Derrick. Now. Okay. Fine. That was definitely embarrassment staining her cheeks. “My leg is going numb.” She wiggled a bit. “Oh. Sorry.” He pulled out of her, causing her cheeks to heat even more. She was raw. Well and truly chaffed thanks to his heaving pounding. A pounding you asked for. She sat up and scanned the floor for her clothes. Her pants were nowhere to be seen. One of her shoes appeared to be hiding too, only one brown slip-on in front of the couch. She spotted her shirt opposite from them, one of the sleeves looking like a deflated white balloon. Who knew where her underwear had gotten to, but she’d take the shirt in a pinch. Callie darted forward to snatch it up. Her underwear were beneath. How she’d managed that, she had no idea, but she was never more relieved than to slip the shirt and underwear over her skin. To hell with her bra. She shoved her foot in the shoe, as well, though God knew why. “Glasses, glasses, glasses,” she found herself muttering, searching for the elusive brown frames. “You’re about to step on them.” So she was, Callie privately admitted before moving toward them, her gait crooked thanks to the single shoe. She thought she heard Derrick chuckle, didn’t care, just bent and scooped the frames up from the ground. There. That was better. She instantly spotted her jeans, their dark color blending into the carpet beneath Derrick’s feet. She had to cross over to him, her footsteps thud-thumping the whole way. He sat there, his feet (really big feet, she noticed) resting on one of the legs. “You’re on my jeans,” she pointed out dryly. “Am I?” She was like a dog, afraid of meeting its master’s eyes. Afraid she might see a command within them. Sit. Stay. Lay down. Spread your legs.

Pamela Britton

“Derrick, please.” He sat there, naked, the smell of sex hanging in the air between them. “Well, I don’t know,” he drawled, his Southern accent at once familiar and strange. She’d listened to him give so many interviews over the years she felt as if she’d known him forever, and yet she didn’t. “I think I kind of like you dressed like that.” “And I think I’d like you to put on some clothes,” she shot right back, finally gaining the courage to look him in the eyes. “No,” and she could tell what he was going to do an instant before he actually did it. “Derrick,” she warned. He pulled her down on his lap, anyway. “Now this I like even better.” He’d managed to pull her off balance in such a way she straddled him. Actually, he probably had years of experience manipulating women in such a way. Decades of pulling women toward him. His hands went to her hips, pressing her against him in a manner which made it instantly clear what he wanted to do…again. “We have to talk.” “I’d rather not.” His hands slid up her sides and caused goose bumps to sprout on her flesh—dear Lord it was frightening how quickly he could do that to her. In a flash every shred of modesty faded, in its place sat a woman who could only be called a harlot. “I need you to join XRL,” she wheezed before all shred of sanity disappeared. He slid his pelvis against her. Was he still hard? How the hell did he do it? “I’d rather join with something else.” He was like a drug, the kind that got into your blood stream and made you crave another dose over and over again. “No,” she said even as she felt herself sinking down into him. “You need to join the XRL now or we’re not going to do this again.” She didn’t mean the words to sound so threat-like, she really didn’t, but, surprisingly, they came out sounding rather stern too. “Is that a bribe?” He slowly eased her back onto the couch. Her shoe fell off. “Yes.” It surprised her how level her voice sounded. “It is.” She forced herself to stop moving even though every muscle in her body wanted to rub her slick core up and down the length of him, to maybe even slide her underwear aside so she could guide him into her. She closed her eyes, hoping he didn’t see what a fraud she was. “I’ll let you screw me any time day or night if you join the XRL.” Good God, Callie. What the hell has gotten into you? “Done,” he clipped out sharply.

96

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Eyes that had closed without her noticing suddenly snapped open. He stared down at her, a look of intense…what? She couldn’t pin the expression in his eyes. Desire? Anger? Frustration? Perhaps all of the above. “Done?” she asked, her body beginning to tremble it took so much effort to keep from moving. “You mean you’ll drive for us?” “On one condition.” She knew she wouldn’t like the condition, but she had only herself to blame. She’d been the one to trod the fine line between whoring and business. “What’s that?” she asked warily. He shifted so she was beneath him, his erection pressing into her center in a way that frustrated the hell out of her. She wanted him to rip off her underwear. To thrust himself inside of her again. God help her, to take her as violently and thoroughly as he had before. “You’re going to become my mistress, Callie. I want you available for sex twenty-four/seven.” Yesyesyes! She wanted to scream the words. Remarkably, she heard herself say, “I have a job, Derrick. I can’t just jet off willy-nilly—” He cupped her with his hand, and from somewhere, she didn’t know where, came a keening sound which gave the game away. She realized then he’d known all along the kind of effect he had on her. She’d been played, expertly. “Anywhere.” He plucked at her nub of pleasure in a way that had her moaning all over again. “Any time.” His tongue swept across her bottom lip, claiming the very essence of her. “Any place.” The trembling had turned into tremors of pleasure. His fingers found her core and she knew she was about to climax again. “Callie?” he asked softly, his breath a soft whisper against her cheek. “Is that a deal?” “Yes.” “What’s that?” His fingers teased her to the point she’d begun to see spots. “Yes,” she moaned, louder. She couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed into him. “Say it again,” he said. “Yes,” she panted now. “Look at me,” he ordered. Possessiveness. That was what she saw in his eyes. “You’re going to come for me, Callie. Then I’m going to flip you over and take you from behind and you’re going to come all over again and that’s the way it’s going to be between us for as long as I drive in the XRL.” She screamed.

www.samhainpublishing.com

97

Pamela Britton

Her whole body convulsed at the force of her orgasm. Callie cried out and then moaned with pleasure when he flipped her over and took her from behind…exactly as he’d promised.

For the first time in his life, Derrick had a hard time focusing. It’d been two hours since he’d left Callie in the motorcoach. Two hours and he sat in line on pit road waiting to qualify and yet his blood still ran hot at the thought of some of the things he’d done to her earlier. Sure, he knew he should feel bad. She’d been the one to open the door of exchanging sex for a favor. “Ah, Derrick, you planning on joining us today?” The words were like a shock to his system. “Excuse me?” “We need to move the car forward.” Holy crap. He’d been so deep in thought he’d actually zoned out there for a moment. “Roger that.” He took his foot off the brake. Two more cars stood in front of him, the grandstands to the left of him filled with people who’d taken time off work to watch him and other drivers qualify. He appreciated that, he really did. Even after all these years he knew he had a lot to be grateful for, especially that he still had race fans. It was still sunny and clear outside and if he were honest with himself, he was getting a little overheated. Hard to believe it was November. “Should be about five more minutes,” his crew chief, Brad, said. The man looked stressed out, his dark eyes framed by worry lines, black hair completely catawampus thanks to the headset he wore. Derrick almost told him to relax. He had everything under control. Would she be there when he got done qualifying? He mentally shook his head. He’d told her to stick around, but he doubted she would. She’d take off the moment his back was turned, and then later, when he confronted her about it, she’d give him some song-and-dance story about changing her mind. He loved that about her. She wasn’t like the other women in his past. She made sex exciting and invigorating. Over the years sex had gotten to be…sex. Boring. When you were propositioned by good-looking women on a daily basis, it got old after awhile. Sure, he wasn’t above taking a few of those women to bed every once in a while. What man didn’t like a blow-job? Callie was different though. She could care less he was Derrick Derringer. All she cared about was her X-TREME Racing League. “Ah, Derrick.” Shit. He’d done it again. “Got it…got it.”

98

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

He guided the car forward again. One more to go and then it was his turn. He should be recounting his practice sessions. Remembering the places where his car got loose, or tight. Instead he found himself contemplating Callie again. He would demand she join him at a race next weekend. She would say no, of course. He didn’t believe for one minute she’d knuckle-down and do as he demanded. She would balk every time. He’d have to play hard ball, but that was okay. It would add an edge to their encounters, and a sense of excitement that had been missing from sex for a long, long time. “Start it up,” his crew chief ordered. Derrick blinked, glanced around, then complied with his crew chief’s demands and flipped the start switch. Instantly, the sound of the generator warming his oil faded beneath the roar of eight-hundred-plus horse power engine. A white-clad official stopped near the front of his car, hand held high—as if Derrick were a rookie who might jump the gun. Hardly. He clutched the steering wheel, wondering if Callie watched. Well, if she was, she would soon be grateful for the deal she’d struck with him. He was about to smoke the doors off the track. Maybe even set a new record. There was only one race left to go after Phoenix and he had every intention of winning both of them, locking up the year-end championship. If he did that he’d be in a better position to bargain with his team owner over driving for XRL. “Be ready in twenty seconds, Derrick,” his crew chief told him. Derrick didn’t respond. He’d done this thousands of times. He knew the drill. So did his team, his crew members dropping away from the side of the car to watch him from pit wall. The white-clad official stepped back. Derrick gunned it. Instantly, his car leaped forward, leaving twin streaks of rubber behind. Derrick almost smiled. Instead he focused. Phoenix was a small track. It was also flatter than most. He’d need to pay attention. A quick glance at his gauges told him all was well. Sunlight arced off the windshield as he came off pit road and entered the track near the back stretch. People atop race car haulers and RVs cheered him before they, too, faded from view, his RPMs revving higher and higher. Turns three and four loomed ahead. Derrick knew instantly his crew had been right on the money when setting up the car. He felt as if his car were glued to the asphalt “One to go,” came his crew chief’s voice. The track, its outbuildings, and the infield became nothing but a blur as he increased his speed. The flag stand loomed ahead, the green banner waved in his direction. He didn’t think he could go any faster, but somehow he managed to eke out a few more horses as he slammed the car into turn one. He knew instantly he had a winner. The car didn’t break traction once. As he followed his usual line around, a smile broke out on his face. “Lookin’ good,” his crew chief said as entered turn three. Better than good, Derrick thought. This lap would be fast.

www.samhainpublishing.com

99

Pamela Britton

It was. “Thirty-three seven,” Brad reported, the smile in his voice clearly evident. “That’s fast enough for the pole by a long shot.” His next lap would be even better. More stick. Smoother lines. It would add up to another blistering ET. As he rounded the track one more time, sound faded. His field of vision narrowed. Black asphalt filled his gaze, as did the hood of his race car, the fiberglass vibrating from the force of the wind. One turn, then another. Turn three was on him before he could blink. His back end kicked out a bit as he headed for the start/finish line. “Whew, doggie,” Brad exclaimed. “That’s a track record, Derrick! Shit!” He cut the motor, back pressure from the car’s engine pop-pop-popping as he slowed down. The sound inside the cockpit going from sonic boom to a gentle hum. “Great job setting up the car.” This weekend’s race was in the bag. Barring any unforeseen disasters, he should finish well—well enough to wrap up the championship on race ahead of schedule. “Terrific job driving,” Brad echoed back. “I feel a celebration coming on.” Actually, Derrick thought, he already had plans. He knew exactly the way he wanted to celebrate—if Callie hadn’t flown the coop, that is.

100

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Seventeen

She couldn’t get out of Phoenix fast enough. Callie knew Derrick would be livid. She might even risk him dropping out of the league—if he was ever serious about their deal in the first place. Whatever his true motives were for demanding such a deal, she knew he wouldn’t be happy when he returned to his motorcoach to find her gone. She would call his cell. Leave him a message telling him she’d been ordered away on urgent business. He’d know that was an out-and-out lie. Phoenix’s brown mountaintops looked as bleak as her mood. Craggy rocks and the ever-present cacti colored the mountain an army-green. She actually liked the barren landscape. Phoenix looked a lot like L.A. would look if it hadn’t been buried beneath asphalt and concrete. Her cell phone beeped. Callie avoided looking at the display. It would be Derrick or maybe Veronica. Either way, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of driving back home. Why not? She hadn’t had a day off since—she tried to think that far back, couldn’t. She needed some time away. Time to think. Time to decide what to do about Derrick. So she drove. Along the way she tried to get her head screwed on straight. That became hard to do when night fell and she was forced to find lodging. One glance at the bed in her hotel room and it was all over. Every naughty thing she and Derrick had done earlier came rushing back to her. She thought maybe a shower would cool her off, but it only made it worse. Her skin was raw in certain places thanks to his razor stubble. It was a good kind of raw, the kind which made her burn when she recalled exactly what he’d been doing to her to make her flesh so red. Things didn’t improve the next day. When she checked her missed calls, she noticed Derrick had called four times—Veronica ten. That couldn’t be good. Had he tattled on her? Frankly, she didn’t want to know, preferred, instead, to enjoy her last few hours of peace and quiet before she was forced to confront her transgressions. As it turned out, she’d been worried about nothing. When she checked voice mail, Derrick’s messages hadn’t been hostile at all. In fact, he’d sounded amused. Veronica—well, she was just Veronica. The woman was never happy and she’d sounded increasingly perturbed when she hadn’t been able to get a hold of Callie to find out if she’d signed Derrick or not. Her crazy boss wouldn’t be happy when she found out

Pamela Britton

Callie hadn’t been successful. Or had she been successful? Was her deal with Derrick off now? She was afraid to call him and find out. Her boss accosted her the moment she arrived. Callie felt like a play toy for a cat, a fly being batted around and pawed over and over again. “Why didn’t you call me back this weekend?” she snapped the moment she entered her office. Good to see you too, Veronica. “I needed some time to think after the miserable weekend I had.” For a brief moment something resembling satisfaction entered Veronica’s eyes before she seemed to realize the ramifications of Callie’s words. “He turned you down?” she asked in disbelief. Or was it irritation? And against her better judgment, Callie found herself saying, “No. We made a deal.” Which they had, she just didn’t know if Derrick would honor that deal. To Callie’s utter amazement, Veronica’s eyes softened a bit—not that anything about Veronica looked soft this morning. She wore a black suit, her makeup so thick Callie wondered if she had a media appearance later in the day. And her hair. The usual red masses were pulled back sharply, almost severely, but on Veronica it looked stunning…of course. “So you did it?” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I did.” Callie tried not to squint because of the pain behind her eyes. Migraine. No doubt about it. “Well that’s great news,” Veronica suddenly all buddy-buddy-like. Callie didn’t buy it for a moment. “You didn’t have any reason to be miserable. Why didn’t you call and tell me?” Because I was avoiding you. Because I’m not certain Derrick will honor our deal. Because every time I move I’m reminded of the hot, hot sex I had with Derrick. “I was tired,” Callie confessed. “I needed a break. I’ve been going at it pretty hard.” For once, Veronica seemed to understand. Well, at least she didn’t say anything sarcastic. “Was he mean to you?” her boss asked. Thanks to her headache, it took Callie a moment to figure out what she was asking. “Was who mean to me?” “Derrick.” Veronica moved away from the door to stand in front of Callie’s desk. Why did she always do that? Didn’t she realize it hurt Callie’s neck to have to look up at her like that? “Not really,” Callie hedged, finally deciding her head hurt too much to stare up at her boss. She jerked her glasses off and tried massaging her temples. “I mean, he demanded I have sex with him in exchange for driving for us. That’s all.” Silence, a quiet during which Callie realized she’d spoken those words out loud, not in her head, as she’d imagined she’d done. She risked a peek up at Veronica. Her boss had gone back to rigid again—like an Elgin marble.

102

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“He did what?” “Nothing, Veronica,” Callie said quickly. “It’s nothing. We have Derrick Derringer. That’s all that matters.” “Did that piece of shit actually make you to sleep with him before agreeing to drive for us?” Callie thought about the question for a moment, but what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. She felt a sick sense of grim satisfaction that Veronica would now know how badly Derrick had wanted her. So badly, in fact, he’d had to force her into sex. “As a matter of fact, he did.” “Get him on the phone,” Veronica snapped, coming around the edge of her desk. She had to lean back all of a sudden to get a peek at the face that appeared to be consumed by…rage? On her behalf? For real? “Veronica, no—” “Don’t tell me no. That’s completely unacceptable. Men don’t have the right to make those types of requests. You should have told him no. Or, or called me. Or left the race.” Her boss’s green eyes suddenly narrowed. “Unless you wanted to agree.” Callie quickly blurted, “No.” Something in the word must have been convincing because Veronica’s posture eased. “He took complete advantage of the situation,” she added. He’d wanted her bad. That, too, filled her with satisfaction. “Then he’s a jerk.” Veronica made a grab for her phone. “And I’m going to tell him as much.” “No.” Callie pushed down the hang-up button before Veronica could dial. “Don’t do that,” Callie pleaded. “Think about it, Veronica. We have Derrick Derringer right where we want him.” Maybe. But Callie wasn’t going to let him back out of their deal. “He’s agreed to drive for us.” In exchange for sex with me. She refused to think about that. “And if he balks, why then, we’ll just…just…” Callie had to think for a moment because the last thing she needed, the absolute last thing she wanted was Veronica calling Derrick and learning Callie hadn’t exactly been an unwilling partner in the whole scheme. It would be even worse if she learned Callie had been the one to offer up sex in exchange for Derrick driving in the XRL. “We’ll threaten him with a lawsuit. Sexual harassment or something. It’s okay. I’m fine. Nothing bad happened. At least nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Well, that wasn’t precisely true. Derrick had done things to her she’d never done before, but Veronica didn’t need to know the details. “Let’s forget about it, shall we?” Callie added. “What’s done is done. Let’s move forward.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

103

Pamela Britton

Who was she talking to? Herself? Callie ignored the little voice inside her head. Instead she tipped her chin up, gave Veronica a brave smile, and held her breath as she waited for Veronica’s next move. There was a moment when Callie feared she might have laid it on a bit too thick because Veronica was peering down at her, the oddest expression on her face. “You poor, poor woman,” Veronica said gently, and could it be…was that actually kindness in her boss’s eyes? “I can’t believe what it must have been like.” Fuck me, Derrick, now. That’s what it’d been like. “The man is a cad. He should be made to pay.” Veronica straightened away from her desk. “And one day he will, but you’re right, we need to wait. We’ll pounce on him at just the right moment.” Thank God. She wasn’t going to call him. “I’ll keep my distance from him,” Callie agreed. “And I’ll let you deal with him from here on out.” Derrick ought to love that, although she doubted he’d want a thing to do with her boss. “When were you supposed to see him next?” Screw me. Any time. Day or night. Callie very nearly blanched as she recalled the words. Had he really meant it? “At our final test session in two weeks.” “Perfect,” Veronica murmured. “That’ll give us a couple of weeks to prepare.” Prepare? Prepare for what? “You relax,” Veronica all but patted her on the back. “I’ll take care of Derrick. Men are pigs, Callie. I’m convinced of it. You did nothing wrong.” There was something wrong. With her, because she wanted Derrick again, and if he called… If he called she would go to him if it meant he’d drive for the XRL. Yeah, right. You’d go just to have sex with him again. Who are you kidding? “Thanks, Veronica,” Callie said when she realized her boss was waiting for her to say something. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.” She shifted her gaze to her desk, at the stack of paperwork there. “I’m going to stay away from men for awhile. Maybe bat for the other team, ya know?” The words were meant as a joke, but she could tell her boss didn’t take them that way. “That’s Callie the rape victim talking.” Callie swung her head back around. Rape? Derrick hadn’t raped her. You couldn’t rape the willing. “Veronica, I think you misunderstand—” “Shh.” Her boss placed a finger against her mouth. “It’s all right. I understand.”

104

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

She did understand, Callie realized. There was such compassion in her eyes Callie wondered who it was that’d hurt Veronica in the past, and if it was part of the reason why her boss was so messed up inside. Holy shit. That had to be it. “Thanks, Veronica,” Callie surprised when Veronica began to stroke the side of her face. Okay, this was starting to feel a little creepy. Then her boss straightened up, swung away. “I’ll deal with Derrick Derringer from here on out,” she called out breezily. “You and he are done.” “Whatever you say.” Her boss was gone, Callie sinking back in her chair the moment she realized she was finally alone. Dear God, what had just happened? And how the hell was she supposed to deal with this situation?

www.samhainpublishing.com

105

Chapter Eighteen

“Damn it.” Derrick slammed down the phone. “What the hell is going on over there?” “What?” Diane asked, looking suspiciously like his mother as she stood in the middle of his race car hauler’s isle, clipboard in hand. “Nothing,” Derrick muttered. “She still dodging your calls?” Now he felt like a teenage kid. “Yes.” She wouldn’t be able to dodge him next weekend. Oh, no. Next weekend was one of XRL’s test sessions, and the more she avoided talking to him, the more Derrick was determined to show up there. “Humph.” Diane paused, pen poised above the sheet of paper on her clipboard. They were due to head off to a PR appearance in a couple of minutes, Derrick enjoying the calm before the storm. “It sounds like this girl’s got you tied up in knots.” Tied up in knots? More like in the shape of a pretzel. He’d been trying to get through to her ever since she’d ditched him in Phoenix a week ago. Then Veronica had called and told him not to bother showing up to the test session the following weekend. He tried to get to the bottom of why he’d been suddenly disinvited from joining the XRL, but Veronica the Pirahnica had bared her tiny little teeth. She’d told him Derrick knew exactly why the XRL wanted nothing to do with him, and the only thing Derrick could think of is that Callie had told her boss about their deal. He had a hard time believing it, though. Why would she go and do that? Then he’d tried calling Callie to get to the bottom of it, but she refused to answer. He was baffled, and more than a little concerned. “Maybe you should back off a bit,” Diane advised. “Give her some space.” That would be a first. Usually, it was a major pain in the ass when it came time to break off the relationship. Ironic he found himself on the other side of the fence. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. They told me not to show up next weekend, but I’ll be damned if I listen to Veronica—” He cut off his words once he realized what he was admitting. He’d kept his future involvement with the XRL under wraps. Once he won the year-end championship this weekend, he’d be in a better position to convince his team owner the XRL wasn’t a bad thing, but for now, it was his own, private secret. Diane was smart as a whip though. “What about Veronica?” she asked. “I assume you mean Veronica Adams, the owner of the newly formed XRL?” Leave it to Diane to ask him point blank. “Nothing. I was just thinking out loud.”

Burning Rubber

Diane didn’t look as if she believed him, but she wasn’t pushy like some of his previous PR reps, either. “You ready to go?” No, Derrick wanted to answer back. “Sure.” He appreciated Diane dropping the subject. Usually, PR reps felt they had the right to know every little detail of a driver’s life, hypothetically so they could do damage control ahead of time. Derrick had long held the belief PR reps were really just plain old nosey. Not Diane. She’d been great so far. “Let’s roll.” “Listen, Diane.” He ran to catch up to her. “I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.” They’d stopped by the sliding glass doors leading outside. It was dark out, the evening race due to start in less than half an hour and so the Cup garage sat deserted. The last race of the year for the Busch guys—and, yes, that’s what he still called the minor leagues, Busch. Overhead lights reflected back to him in the windows of the garage, elaborately painted car-covers tucked over million dollar race cars. “What kind of favor?” He forced his attention back to his PR rep. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind calling Callie for me.” “Excuse me?” “I noticed your phone has a different area code than mine. Almost looks like it might be a California code.” “Bozeman,” she said. “Montana. Where I grew up. I’ve had the same number since I was in my twenties.” Montana, huh? He would have never figured that. Although now he thought about it, she looked the ranching type. That must be where she got her athletic build. “Okay. Great.” He smiled. “The point being she won’t recognize it. She might actually pick up for you.” Diane’s dark eyes scanned his face as she opened the door a crack. A breeze caught a wisp of dark hair and blew it across her face. “You’ve really got it bad, don’t you, soldier?” See, he appreciated a woman who spoke her mind. Unlike his previous PR reps, Diane didn’t beat around the bush. Sort of like Callie. There he went thinking about her again. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I do.” He’d never felt this way before. It drove him nuts. That must be why he felt so on edge. So desperate to reach her. If it wasn’t for the year-end championship, he’d have flown to California two days ago. “I’d just like to get to the bottom of why she won’t take my calls.” Surely she’d enjoyed their time together. Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit demanding. Maybe in hindsight it hadn’t been the smartest thing in the world to barter sex for his cooperation, but she’d been free to say no.

www.samhainpublishing.com

107

Pamela Britton

“So you want me to call her and get to the bottom of things.” “If you wouldn’t mind.” Derrick gave her his best, winning smile. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re shameless, but you probably know that already.” “I do.” She shook her head. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But you have to promise me something.” “What’s that?” “Win that championship tomorrow. I don’t know what you’ve got going on with the X-TREME Racing League, but I have a feeling it’s going to impact your driving career. However, if my name’s affiliated with the driver who’s won the year-end championship, I’ll have a good chance of hooking up with another race team when you’re AWOL.” “Wait, wait, wait. What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” She stared down at him sadly, and he was disconcerted to realize she really was quite a bit taller than him. “Just a feeling I have. You’re tired of all this, Derrick. I can see that. I’ve been doing PR for a lot of years and it’s written all over your face. You’re dying to try something new and this XRL is right up your alley.” She was right. If he ended up winning tomorrow it’d be his sixth championship. What more did he have to prove? Sure it’d be nice to go out as the driver with the most championships under his belt, but records were meant to be broken. Sooner or later some other young pup would come along and blow everything to smithereens. So what did it all matter, anyway? “Would you come with me?” Her brows arched in surprise. “To the XRL?” He nodded. “Seriously?” “I’m going to need a PR rep. I’m going to need a whole host of things if I start my own team.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “’Course, who knows if the XRL will actually amount to anything. It could be a short-term career. I’d be your boss. A bona fide driver/owner, which means building my own cars also. But I have a crew in mind, some of the guys I’ve worked with in the past. And I was thinking of talking to Redbox as a sponsor. They’ve been sniffing around me for the past year, and this would be cheaper for them to invest in than a Cup car. And the action on the XRL tracks promises to be better than the choreographed bullshit that goes on around here.” “You’ve really thought long and hard about this, haven’t you?” Diane asked, shoving the hank of hair away from her face, her green windbreaker rustling as she moved her arm. “I have,” He was surprised by the admission. He hadn’t talked to anybody about this, yet voicing everything out loud seemed to solidify matters in his mind. He really could do this—if he wanted.

108

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Okay.” A silly smile filled her face. “I’m probably crazy for agreeing to this, but okay. If you decide to jump, I’ll go with.” “Terrific.” Derrick hugged her impulsively. “I mean it, Diane. I’d be thrilled to have you. You’ve been terrific this past year.” “Thanks.” The smile on her face was one he’d never seen before. She looked genuinely delighted by his compliment. “You still want me to call your girlfriend?” His girlfriend. Yeah. He liked the sound of that. “If you don’t mind. Ask her what’s going on. Hopefully she’ll be more willing to talk to you than me.” “Will I be shocked at what I hear?” Derrick almost laughed. “You might be,” he drawled. “You very well might be.”

When Callie’s cell phone rang the next day, she yelped. Stupid phone. She hated the way they rang out of the blue while you were in the middle of something. She glanced down at the display. 406. Not Derrick. Thank God. “This is Callie,” she answered breezily. “Hi, Callie, this is Diane Despain, Derrick’s PR rep.” Callie’s whole body froze. She almost hung up the phone then and there, except what if something was wrong with Derrick? What if he’d crashed his car during practice and she was on his emergency call list. You’ve been drinking too much Kool-Aid. Still, she managed to wheeze out, “Hi, Diane,” in as nonchalant a tone as she could muster. “Derrick wanted me to call and find out what’s going on. It seems Veronica Adams called earlier this week and told him not to show up at the next XRL test.” “She did?” “Yeah, she did, but Derrick didn’t know why. That’s why he’s been trying to call you all week.” She heard a tinge of accusation in the woman’s voice. Callie covered her face with her hands. “Yeah, well, we’ve been a little busy around here.” “So you’re telling me this was all a mistake?” The moment of truth had arrived. Callie either cut things off with Derrick now, permanently, or she offered up some sort of vague excuse. But to be honest, it was a relief to know he was still interested in driving for them. Wait. Did that mean the rest of their deal was still on?

www.samhainpublishing.com

109

Pamela Britton

“I think Veronica was concerned about Derrick’s…” ludicrous demands, but she couldn’t say that. “I think she was concerned about Derrick’s level of commitment to the XRL.” “I wouldn’t be calling you if he wasn’t committed.” Yes, but was Callie committed to having sex with him? Her toes curled. “Great. I guess we’ll see you next weekend,” Callie heard herself say. “You’re sure about that?” “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” “Just a feeling I have.” How much had Derrick told her? Callie’s face turned molten at the mere thought of the woman knowing even a tenth of what had gone on. “Tell him I’ll see him this weekend.” Callie knew she’d have to confront Veronica about what she’d done, and that she’d have to sort out her deal with Derrick, but Callie had a feeling she could make this work. Maybe. “I’ll do that,” Diane was saying. “Wait,” Callie cried when it became evident Diane was about to hang up. “Tell Derrick—” she swallowed, her tongue suddenly unable to form words, “—tell Derrick good luck tomorrow. And I hope he ends up winning the year-end championship.” “Me too.” Diane’s voice warmed considerably. “See you this weekend.” The woman cut the line, Callie left staring at her phone. See you this weekend. She should tell Veronica. Now. Or maybe not. Crap. She didn’t know what to do. Veronica had seemed like a different person this week, but to actually give Derrick the boot? Wow. Not that there hadn’t been flashes of the old Veronica at times. Still, lately she’d been much more patient with Callie. It’d been nice. It would continue to be nice, Callie vowed. She’d tell Veronica she’d called Derrick and re-invited him to the XRL test session. That he’d just been kidding about having sex with her. And if he wasn’t kidding. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now she had to do what was best for the XRL, and that included dealing with demanding race car drivers. Veronica would understand. She hoped.

“You did what?” Veronica all but screamed the following Monday. “Veronica, please.” Callie held up a hand. “I know what he did was unforgivable, but we need Derrick. I still can’t believe you told him not to show up. He just won the year-end championship for goodness sake.”

110

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

She’d cried. When he’d roared across the start/finish line in tenth place—good enough to win the Cup—she’d fought the urge to bawl her eyes out. When he looked into the camera, Callie hadn’t found herself thinking about sex with him. No. What she thought was how much she missed his smile…the way he’d touched her so tenderly…how he could look into her eyes and know exactly what she was thinking, and what she wanted. “Ridiculous.” Veronica leaned back in her throne—a massive black, leather and chrome chair that seemed to swallow her boss. “I don’t care how good a driver he is, or how many championships he’s won, I don’t want him driving for the XRL.” “Too late. I’ve already re-extended the invitation. He’s arriving Thursday night and so he’ll be around for the entire three-day test session.” “No.” Veronica shook her head, the ends of her hair all but turning into snakes she looked so enraged. “I won’t have it.” Callie had known it would be this way. Veronica hated being contradicted, and she’d obviously decided to write off Derrick Derringer even though, clearly, he would have been one of their biggest assets. There was a part of Callie that felt almost flattered she’d take such a strong stand on Callie’s behalf. Another part of Callie thought this was typical of Veronica. When presented with a logical solution, Veronica did the illogical. “Veronica, please. Hear me out.” Callie came forward and tentatively sat down in front of her. Veronica’s office was like a mix of department store dressing room and OfficeMax. No doubt about it. Her boss was a slob. Discarded jackets, water bottles and fast-food containers lay on various surfaces. She had the biggest office and a wall of windows—one behind her desk and two on the sides—that Callie envied. “I’m listening.” Callie noted she was in her professional secretary garb. Dark-framed glasses Callie was certain she didn’t need—and that looked suspiciously like her own—all-black business suit and a bun that would have done an accountant proud. “Okay, here goes then. Derrick was a cad. He’s admitted as much.” That was a bald-faced lie, but oh well. “It was wrong of him to, ah, to ask me to, ah, to—” “Fuck him so he’d drive for us?” “Okay, yeah, that in exchange for driving for us. But I’m a big girl. It’s not as if I haven’t, um, done that before. And if it meant the sex of XRL, I mean, the success,” she quickly corrected, “of XRL, well, so be it. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones—as long as he stays away from me. And he’s agreed to do that.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

111

Pamela Britton

Clearly, Veronica was not pleased because, clearly, she understood Callie was lying through her teeth. Or maybe not. Crap, this was such a mess. “He should be hung up by the balls.” “Granted. But let me deal with him, Veronica. It’ll be okay. I can handle him. I promise.” Her boss didn’t look too pleased, but she was also a savvy businesswoman (sometimes), so Callie could tell she weighed the options. Fingernails clacked-clacked-clacked across the smooth glass surface of her desk. “Okay, fine. He can test with us this weekend. But if he makes one wrong move—” “I know, I know.” Callie held up a hand, confident she could convince Derrick to stay away from her—and still drive for the XRL. “One wrong move and I’ll string him up myself.”

Three days later Callie had bitten her nails down to the quick and her stomach felt like it’d been used by the gymnastics Olympic team for a floor routine. “Remember,” Veronica said when they arrived at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning, Callie amazed her boss had actually made the journey with her this time. “When he shows up, you’re to ignore him.” “Got it.” They were in northern California, at a track best known for its National Auto Sports Association twenty-five hour race. Small-time for sure. There were no deluxe garages. No massive grandstands. No outbuildings would shield them from Derrick’s arrival. The road course snaked in and around some lowslung hills like a discarded piece of rope. Callie had scouted the place out months in advance, and yet she still hoped for a way to sideline Derrick before Veronica did. To warn him that her boss was on the war path, and that he had to stay away from her, and that Callie still wanted him to drive for the XRL, of course. So as the cars were unloaded for the three-day test session, Veronica holding court inside one of the race car haulers they’d hired, Callie kept a watchful eye out for Derrick. It had dawned a stunning day in northern California, sunlight arcing off the windshields of the cars parked near the garage. No media had been invited; they’d asked the drivers to keep the test date to themselves. Apparently, they’d done as asked because there were no news vans in sight. One-by-one she ticked off the names on her list, Derrick the only no-show. “Guess he’s not coming,” Veronica admitted, Callie thinking she had to be burning up in her thighhigh leather boots, black pants and white, ruffled blouse. She looked like she was ready to set sail on the Black Pearl. All she needed was a saber. “Guess not.”

112

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Callie couldn’t deny her spirits sank at the realization. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she’d counted on Derrick to help launch the XRL, especially after his year-end championship. “Okay then,” Callie called out to the drivers who’d shown up. They stood gathered near the main straightaway, the road course winding around them like a snake in a garden. “I guess we should go ahead and get started.” She glanced at the faces around her, knowing most of them by sight. They’d attracted some of the best talent in the United States—but, of course, none of them were household names. Like Derrick. “This will be our final test session before we release the templates and engine specifications for you to use when building your own cars.” There were nods, Callie thinking it was no wonder Veronica had come dressed as she was. Quite a few of the men were good-looking guys, and not all of them were young drivers. Today many of the prospective team owners were watching from a distance or, in some cases standing next to the talent. So it was a mix of men. Young and old. Tall and short. A few middle-aged bellies. A few good-looking men. One of those men, Shane Houser stepped forward. He had the typical racer stance, arms crossed, feet wide apart, thrown back shoulders—as if he wanted to take on the world and didn’t care who stood in his way. “I have a question,” he said, semi-lifting a hand. “Yes?” The blond-headed driver turned arrogant eyes upon her. “I missed the first test session and so I want to know what happens if I don’t like the cars you’ve designed.” Callie had heard the man’s dad was every bit as obnoxious as the son. “Why don’t you wait to drive one before deciding you might not like them?” The man lifted his chin. “I’m just asking.” He shrugged. “What happens?” Terrific. She couldn’t wait to work with Shane. “You’ll have to work within the confines of our design,” Callie answered. “And we’ve done that for a reason. Safety. So while we applaud teams who can come up with, shall we say, creative ways to make their cars go faster, there will be no tampering with the frame or body style of the car.” “How about the engine?” Shane asked. “The engine we’ve come up with is balanced and blue printed. You’ll need to use the same type of block, but as far as the drive train, anything goes.” There were murmurings, Callie realizing Shane hadn’t been the only one curious about how much leeway they would be given. “Our goal with the XRL is to make this like old-school racing. The most creative engineers will win. We won’t be putting you under a microscope. We encourage you to think outside the box. Ultimately, we want the fastest car to win.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

113

Pamela Britton

“And how about on the track?” one of the other drivers asked, a brunet who didn’t look old enough to drive a pizza truck. “You mean will you be allowed to bump and nudge?” Callie called back. “Exactly,” someone said with a laugh, she didn’t know who. “Yes, you will be. We want this to be exciting for the fans. Anything goes while you’re out there. Well, within reason. Obviously, blatant acts of violence won’t be tolerated.” More voices, Callie seeing smiles on more than a few faces. “Is that it?” she asked the group. She heard it then—a car pulling up. Callie’s whole body went on the alert. Veronica, who stood nearby, straightened also. Callie couldn’t see who’d arrived from her position. Next a door slammed, but Callie refused to turn toward the sound. “Sorry I’m late,” someone called. Derrick. She almost closed her eyes. “Our flight was delayed.” He came bounding up, the smile he gave Callie full of friendliness. “What’d I miss?” “Jerk,” she heard Veronica mutter. Callie couldn’t move. Her eyes seemed the only thing capable of working. She glanced beyond Derrick and at the tall woman behind him. His PR Rep. An older woman with brown hair and the body of a marathon runner. “I thought you were just testing the cars out for Ms. Monroe here,” Shane grumbled, clearly disgruntled to be face-to-face with the famous racing star. “Actually,” he said. “I changed my mind. I had such a blast driving a few weeks ago I decided to sign on. As of now I’m officially the X-TREME Racing League’s newest driver.”

114

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Nineteen

“So you won’t be driving stock cars anymore?” asked the same kid who’d confronted him when he’d walked up. “No. I didn’t say that. I’ll be doing both next year.” The crowd murmured quietly. The kid who’d been so vocal turned back to Callie. So did Derrick. She wouldn’t look at him. “Okay, well, if there are no more questions, let’s get to the cars.” She all but clapped her hands. “I know a few of you weren’t here for the first session, and so we’ve decided to let those drivers go first. This time out we have two cars for you to test. We decided to try and construct a second car based on what we learned off our prototype. So those of you who were at the last practice, you won’t recognize what we’ve dubbed the 02 model.” She smiled. “Additionally, we’ve made a few changes to both cars. Honestly, I think we’ve got some great prototypes, but I’ll leave that up to you to decide. A word of warning, however—” she increased the volume of her smile, looking everywhere but at him, “—you wreck it, you buy it.” There was muffled laughter. Derrick thought to himself once again she truly was the rarest of women—smart as a whip and a gearhead to boot. She turned away and motioned for the pack of drivers to follow them. Derrick hung back. “She doesn’t look particularly overjoyed to see you,” Diane murmured. “She’s in professional mode,” Derrick suddenly aware Veronica had stayed behind and she looked even more unhappy to see him. She marched up to him with death in her eyes. “You touch her again, you’re dead.” “Excuse me?” Derrick asked. “Don’t play stupid with me. I know what you did, and I know what type of man you are. You think lording it over a woman is a game, but I’m here to tell you, any more deals like the one you made with Callie and I’ll toss you out on your ear.” It was a little disconcerting to be given a lecture on sexual morals by a woman who’d been center stage in a sex-tape scandal, but whatever. Derrick merely shrugged. “I promise I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to do.” Which turned Veronica from ferocious kitten to enraged tigress. “That’s what men like you always say.” She turned away in a huff.

Pamela Britton

Diane was quiet for a moment, but Derrick knew that wouldn’t last for long. “Wow. Someone’s got a lot of baggage.” “You think?” “Me thinks she doth protest too much.” “I think she’s messed up for a lot of reasons,” Derrick surmised. “Just for shits and giggles, what, exactly, did you do to piss in their Wheaties?” For a moment Derrick almost laughed. He liked Diane more and more, but he wasn’t so certain he should confess everything. Then again, he didn’t trust Veronica. No doubt she’d be the first to tell people what he’d done and so he doubted it’d be a secret for long. “I made a deal with Callie, told her I’d join the XRL if she’d have sex with me.” No response. When he made eye contact, it was in time to see amusement fill her eyes. “I know it was a stupid thing to do, but you had to be there.” “I’m glad I wasn’t,” Diane huffed. “Yeah, well, me too. And it was kind of a joke. At least that’s how I meant it. And then Callie said yes and things sort of spiraled downhill from there.” Diane lifted a hand. “I don’t want to know.” “I called to apologize, but she wouldn’t take my calls.” “So that’s what that was all about.” “And then you called and got things all sorted out.” “And you realized that you would have joined the XRL with or without a sex slave in your pocket.” He blushed. That was the only way to describe the way his face tingled and his cheeks heated. “Um, something like that.” She’d started to shake her head, her brown eyes seeming to twinkle. “You’ll have to get her alone to apologize.” “I know.” “In the meantime I’ll keep a close eye on that Veronica Adams. She’s trouble, that one.” Derrick stared after the group of men and women. They walked toward a row of race car transporters, one of the cars he’d driven parked outside. “I have no idea how Callie manages to work with her.” “She has no choice,” Diane observed. “Sometimes when you’re desperate for something, you’ll do things you wouldn’t normally do.” He glanced back at his PR rep, certain she was trying to tell him something, but whatever it was, he didn’t quite grasp it. “Well, she sure has to put up with a lot.” “Including you.” Diane threw him a small smile.

116

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Including me,” Derrick agreed. “But I’m hoping that won’t be too much of a chore in the very near future.” He set off after her. “Wish me luck,” he called over his shoulder. He didn’t hear his PR rep’s softly uttered, “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

Callie tried to ignore him. It was actually pretty easy to do for the first hour or so. She had to concentrate on her job as head of development for the X-TREME Machines, along with answering questions about the cars for those who were new. Then there were the inevitable bugs that showed up in the cars, although those were thankfully few and far between this time around. Honestly, she got lost in her job—but only to a point. There were times when she’d look up and find Derrick staring at her. She expected the other drivers to buddy up to him. Racing wasn’t about what you knew as much as who you knew, and she’d been certain more than a few of the younger drivers might try to befriend Derrick for the connections he had in racing. They didn’t. Oh, a few of them cautiously approached, but they had nothing much to say other than congratulations on his recent accomplishment. “I’m going in,” Veronica said with a long-suffering sigh. “We’re filming this, right? I can watch from a television screen inside.” “You can,” Callie said. “Good.” Veronica sighed. “I don’t know how you deal with this awful heat.” Heat? It wasn’t above seventy degrees, and yet Veronica was waving a hand in front of her face as if they were in the middle of the Mojave Desert, her long red nails catching the sunlight. “No problem,” Callie said. “I’ll be in the parts truck if you need me.” Veronica acknowledged her words with the briefest of waves. Callie shook her head and trotted off, looking for Derrick before she did so. He stood beneath an easy-up tent, waiting for their two prototypes to make their appearance again. Being a road course, and a meandering one at that, there were times when the vehicles were out of sight. She could hear them though. The two cars sounded like enraged bees from a distance. It was a sound that gladdened Callie’s heart. So far things had gone even better than their first session. As long as the drivers adhered to the blueprints she’d given them, they’d have a hell of a race on their hands come February. She worried for a moment three months wouldn’t be enough time for the newly formed teams to build their cars, but she knew how racers were. They’d burn the candle at both ends to get the job done. She hummed with happiness as she walked toward the parts truck. Happy? Yes, she suddenly realized, opening one of the big rig’s back doors. She was happy. She paused for a moment. It looked like a moving truck inside—boxes piled to the left and right, racks filled with spare parts

www.samhainpublishing.com

117

Pamela Britton

toward the middle and tires stacked near the rear. She was happy because she’d done it. She’d actually gotten the XRL off the ground. She headed toward the back after flipping on a switch that turned on a row of fluorescent lights, all the while thinking that despite the stress of the Derrick situation, in spite of the fact that she had to put up with drama queen Veronica, regardless of how many hats she was forced to wear—she’d done it. She’d designed a race car capable of performing on both a road course and a circle track—and some of the best drivers in the nation were raving about its performance. That felt pretty good. “You planning on ignoring me all day?” “What the—?” She turned toward the back door she’d just walked through, stunned to see he’d somehow raced to catch up with her without her noticing. “What are you?” she asked. “The Bionic Man?” “Excuse me?” Apparently, he didn’t watch 80s re-runs. “Go away, Derrick. I have nothing to say to you.” She turned toward the row of boxes, looking for the one that said shock absorbers. “You’ve had plenty to say to the other drivers out there.” She glanced back at him in time to see him motion over his shoulder. The sun silhouetted his frame like a gunfighter at the entrance to a bar. She’d noticed earlier he’d worn a black polo shirt, and the short sleeves hugged the curves of his arms and accentuated his biceps. She hated the fact he looked so damn good in that shirt, and that she had no control over her thoughts, and that the memories of some of the things they’d done could still evoke tingles. Like now. “I mean it, Derrick. I have nothing to say to you.” He entered the big rig, anyway. “And what if I have something to say to you?” She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to spot a spare door near the front of the trailer. This wasn’t like a race car hauler. There was no private office. No way to escape. No way to avoid him. “Derrick—” “Why’d you tell your boss about our deal?” He wore jeans, and suddenly all she could think about was how she’d peeled a similar pair of pants off him weeks ago. Stop it! “I felt she needed to know.” He swung the door closed behind him, not all the way, but enough to cloak the interior of the rig in darkness. “Don’t do that.” He moved in closer. “You didn’t have to do it, you know.”

118

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Do what?” even though she knew exactly what he was asking. “Have sex with me. You could have said no.” “And then you’d have walked away from the XRL.” She shifted sideways, hoping to put more distance between them, but the inside of the rig was covered with boxes and racks full of car parts. “No,” he shook his head slowly. “I don’t think I would have. All I know is I wasn’t thinking clearly. You had me so worked up I would have done anything to get you to have sex with me. I’m still hot for you.” Damn it. She hated the way he could do this to her. Hated the way her heart leapt at his words. He wanted her. Her. Callie Monroe. The man could have anybody. Crap, he’d probably had twenty offers since he’d won the damn championship last weekend, but it was her he’d come after. She was the one he slowly advanced upon. “Derrick.” “I want to peel your clothes off right now. To take you right there,” he pointed behind her, toward some tarps they had stored in the corner. “You can’t,” she said. “I’m not—” that type of girl. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but it was a ludicrous thing to say given some of the things they’d done in the past, and some of the things she would still like to do to him. “I can make it fast.” “No,” she huffed out, dismayed to realize she’d almost laughed. “Fast or slow, it doesn’t matter. I’m working.” “So am I.” He was right in front of her now, and despite all evidence to the contrary, Callie felt a surge of erotic excitement. It was like standing in front of a bull, waiting for it to charge, waiting for the first move. Static electricity danced upon her skin, heightening her awareness. His scent filled her nostrils, the familiar smell teasing her, reminding her of what it’d been like to have him bend her over and do that to her. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, he closed the distance between them, ran a finger across her left nipple. She cried out in shock, not because he’d surprised her. No. She cried out because her body had reacted so instantly to his touch it left her wanting more, wanting him. “Stop it.” She glanced toward the opening behind him. It was dark, but she could tell his eyes had begun to glimmer. “I’ve been fantasizing about this for days.” Him? Fantasizing about her? The thought completely threw her for a moment. “Thinking about what I’d like to do to you.” A small smiling alighted on his lips. “Again.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

119

Pamela Britton

“Yes, but this is neither the time nor the place—” He reached for her, but not quickly. He did it slowly, as if giving her time to flee, and those words she’d been about to say…the protests she’d been about to utter, they disappeared the moment he touched her. “I want you, Callie. No strings attached. No ulterior motive.” His head lowered. “I’m just a man who wants to make love to the one woman on this earth who turns him on in a way he’s never felt before.” The last words were spoken as a near whisper. His breath fluttered across her face, bringing the memory of what it was like to taste him. She knew this was it. This was the moment when she either fled or let him do every naughty thing she could see in his eyes. “Damn you, Derrick,” she whispered softly. His lips connected with her own. That’s all it took. That’s all she needed. One touch and she was his. “Take off your clothes,” he murmured against her mouth, his hands moving to her waist so he could start tugging at her shirt. “What if someone comes in here?” “Who?” he asked, successful in his liberation of her shirt. He tugged it off and over her head in two seconds flat, the neck getting caught up in her ponytail and knocking her glasses askew. “I don’t know,” she said, only to throw back her head and gasp when he knelt down and suckled the flesh of her belly. “It could be…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I mean, anyone…” She couldn’t think. “Veronica might…” She couldn’t finish the thought. All she wanted was for him to continue suckling her and nipping at her, because every time he did her abdominal muscles spasmed, causing delicious tingles to radiate out from her belly button and on downward. “Screw Veronica.” He unbuttoned her jeans and then, a split-second later, lowered her zipper. There was a moment, a brief instant of clarity when she wondered what in the heck she was doing allowing him to undress her in the middle of the parts truck, but then his mouth found her center and she realized she didn’t care what he did to her—not when it caused lovely ripples of pleasure to ricochet through her body. She felt his arms clasp around her thighs, felt them tighten, wondered what he was doing, then gasped as he lifted her up and placed her on a stack of tires. He gave her nary a moment to breathe before he parted her legs. Callie’s rear end slipped into the center of the tires. That must have been part of his plan because he instantly angled his mouth so he had full, unrestricted access to the most sensitive spot on her body. “Good Lord,” she moaned as he suckled her, using the rim of the tires as support for her elbows. The scent of rubber mixed with the smell of her desire, Callie shocked by the eroticism of it all. He swirled his tongue deep inside her and Callie realized she didn’t care where in the hell they were, as long as he kept doing that. She greeted each thrust of his tongue with a thrust of her own. Gave herself to him in a way that caused her whole body to burn with a combination of shame and lust. Wanton, reckless passion.

120

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Her release came so quickly she gasped, and then pleasure and then pure joy filled her and it was beautiful, so beautiful. She wished it would last forever. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

www.samhainpublishing.com

121

Chapter Twenty

She was still moaning when Derrick drew back. God, he loved the look on her face as she stared up at him from atop the mound of rubber. He wanted to memorize it, to keep it at the forefront of his mind like it was a picture, something he could pull out later. “Come here,” he urged gently because her body had gone so lax, she looked about ready to slide through the center of the tires like a squirrel. “Jeesh,” she moaned. “I don’t think… I mean, I’ve never—” “Shhh,” he soothed, pulling her toward him so she straddled him. He still wore his jeans and so the feel of her warm center through the denim fabric was about his undoing. Crap. He hadn’t come without actually being inside a woman in, well, just about forever. “That is crazy,” she murmured sluggishly. “I know. And I want to hear you scream like that again.” He began to move against her, inadvertently, as if his body possessed a will of its own. He leaned his head to the left, kissing the side of her neck. He should unzip himself, he thought. Thrust into her. Yet…he didn’t want to. He liked holding her against him. Enjoyed the way she tasted. Salty. Sweaty. Like sex. He captured her lips. She moaned and Derrick knew he wouldn’t last long. Like a teenager in the midst of his first lust-driven haze, he felt his erection swell, knew he would come in his jeans in about twopoint-nine seconds if he didn’t do something soon. Then she thrust her tongue into his mouth and Derrick gave up thinking. There was just the feel of her rubbing up against him. The sound of her soft moans. The smell of her womanhood. The heat of her tongue. He became as lost as she’d been a few, short minutes ago. Within seconds his own cries filled the air. “Callie?” She jerked away from him so fast he gasped for another reason. “You in there?” a masculine voice called. “I’ll be right out,” She swung a leg over his shoulder so fast he didn’t even have time to duck. “Damn it,” he heard her mutter just as the door to the parts truck opened. “Oh,” one of the engineers—Derrick couldn’t remember his name-said. “I was looking for Callie,” he added, as if Derrick was hard of hearing.

Burning Rubber

“She’ll be right out.” He glanced back in Callie’s direction. She’d somehow managed to drop into the center of the tires. Holy shit, how had she done that so quickly? “I’m searching for a part,” she added in a sing-song voice. The engineer’s eyes had hooked upon the pair of jeans on the floor. The man’s brows lifted. He gave Derrick a look that clearly said, “Ohhh-kay,” before ducking back out. Derrick didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Given the small-town environment of garages, he knew Callie’s sexual proclivity would be common knowledge by the end of the day. “Is he gone?” she called, her head slowly appearing—like a gopher checking to see if the coast was clear. “Yeah, he’s gone. But I don’t think he bought your checking for parts excuse.” He bent and scooped up the empty pair of jeans. “Here. You might need these.” “Did he see them?” she asked, her own eyes widening. “I’m afraid he did.” If he were honest with himself, he didn’t mind it at all. He wanted those idiots outside to know she was taken. Yeah, it was caveman-type behavior, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass. “Shit,” she hissed. “Shit, shit, shit.” She snatched the jeans from his hand. “If Jerry tells Veronica about this—” “She’ll get over it,” Derrick soothed. “So, relax. It’s no big deal.” “The hell it’s not.” Derrick found it hard not to laugh. She was trying to get dressed while still in the middle of the tires. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working well. The hole was too small. In fact, he had no idea how she’d managed to squeeze herself down there in the first place. “You need some help with that?” he asked after watching her almost topple over for the umpteenth time. “No,” she shot, even though she clearly did. “I can manage just fine.” He ducked down to pick up her shirt. “Are you mad at me?” The way she snatched the item from his hands told the story. “No,” she huffed out again. “Yes.” She tried to hold onto the shirt at the same time she wiggled into her jeans. An impossible task, he quickly surmised. “Damn it,” she said. “I don’t know what I want except to wear anything but a stack of tires.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you need me to lift you out of there?” He refrained from more laughter only by sheer force of will. “No. You can turn around while I get dressed.” “Turn around?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

123

Pamela Britton

“Yes.” Her eyes grew hard. He recognized the expression. It was the look of Woman Gone Mad. So he turned, hearing her do something behind him that involved a lot of grunting and some muttered curses. She grew quiet suddenly, but didn’t tell him to turn around, which was why, two minutes later, he almost missed her scooting by him. “Wait,” he called. “Where are you going?” “Back to work.” “But—” She was gone, Derrick left standing the middle of the aisle way wondering how she managed to turn him on so completely, and then frustrate the hell out of him seconds later. “Damn it.”

Callie couldn’t get away from him fast enough. She had to pause a moment to squint against the bright afternoon sun, but that was the only time she slowed down on her way back to pit road. The whole time she promised herself this was the last time, the absolute last time, she would have sex with Derrick Derringer. Good Lord. It was almost as if she were trying to give Veronica a reason to fire her. And Jerry had seen them. Jerry. A man they’d bribed away from NASCAR, and someone Callie held in high esteem. Now he would think of her as the lowest form of floozy, never mind what she’d accomplished so far. In one fell swoop, she’d gone from respected engineer to groupie. What would happen if he told Veronica? She took a survey of the track, wondering where Jerry and Veronica had disappeared to. There was a line of people along pit road wall, a few of the drivers taking shelter beneath the pop-up tent. No Jerry. No Veronica. What did that mean? Because the mere thought of being forced away from the X-TREME Racing League caused her stomach to roll. Veronica would do it. She’d fire Callie and take Callie’s dreams away with nothing more than a snap of her long-nailed fingers. Then Callie would be left with nothing. Just memories of what might have been—if she’d kept her friggin’ legs shut. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered. “Hey,” someone called. “Don’t be calling me stupid.” She spun around. Shane Houser stood behind her, obviously having followed her to the parts truck as well. Crap. Had everyone been heading to the parts truck? “What’s up, Shane?” She glanced past him to the trailer. Since they were in the middle of a staging area boasting nothing but blacktop, she had an uninterrupted view. No sign of Derrick. Good. And no sign of Veronica, either. She appeared to be holed up in the race car hauler, still.

124

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I was wondering when I would get my chance behind the wheel?” he asked, glancing toward the track where—oddly enough—race cars still circled the track. For her, time had stopped inside that trailer. It seemed strange nothing had changed while she and Derrick had been…well, while he’d done— She blushed. “Derrick’s up next.” She took the reins of her chagrin and gave them a firm yank. “But I think he’s off doing something else right now. Terry’s been out there for, what? A half-hour or so? Why don’t I call him in so you can take a spin?” “Thanks.” His eyes swept her up and down. Callie followed his gaze, wondering if she had something on her jeans. No. She glanced up at him again. He gave her a flirtatious smile. Callie almost groaned. Un-be-lievable. The kid had to be six years her junior. Then again Shane seemed like the type who would sleep with someone if he thought it would give him an edge. Even an ugly someone. He probably thought she held a position of power in the XTREME league. Maybe he’d even heard her in there with Derrick. Good Lord, she hoped not. She trotted off, still looking around for Jerry, relief coursing through her when she spotted him by the tent. He’d been blocked from her view earlier, and when he observed her approaching, he glanced away from her quickly. Crap. She’d have to talk to him, maybe beg him not to say anything. She found her headset right where she’d left it—on pit road wall. It was a simple matter to contact Terry and tell him his time was up. Instantly, she heard the X-TREME Machine’s engine slow and, Lord, what power that gave her. She might not own XRL, but she this was the next best thing. Someone tapped her on the back. Callie jumped, careful to keep her expression blank as she slowly turned around. Veronica. “Hey there.” Callie moved the mic portion away from her mouth and one side of the headset off her left ear. “I think we should change the tires before Derrick gets in.” For a moment Callie was stumped. How had she known Derrick was next? Oh, wait. Callie had printed a list. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Callie fiddled with her mic some more. “But Derrick’s busy right now so I’m going to put Shane in next.” He’s busy cleaning himself up after I launched his rocket. Callie! she quickly chastised herself. She couldn’t be thinking things like that, not with the way her cheeks lit up like Christmas lights. “Are you sure you should do that?” “Of course.” Then, cognizant of the power Veronica held over her, “but good idea about the tires.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

125

Pamela Britton

“Oh, well, it was a suggestion.” Veronica’s red hair caught the sunlight so that it looked almost orange in spots. Very clown-like. “You don’t have to change them if you don’t want to. You’re the expert.” Callie forgot all about clowns with white face, red noses and orange hair. It was one of those moments, the kind where you wonder what happened to the person standing in front of you because this was not Veronica standing in front of her. Oh, no. This Veronica was so nice, so conciliatory, so sweetlooking. Even during the whole debacle with Derrick she hadn’t been this gracious. “Still, it’s a good idea.” Callie glanced around the track. “I was actually planning on doing that, anyway.” She repositioned the mic and the headphones. “Rich, let’s change out those tires.” Callie motioned over her shoulder toward where she had stacked four sets alongside pit road. Unfortunately, glancing at the things caused Callie to blush all over again because she had an instant recollection of sitting on a similar pair, of spreading her legs, and allowing Derrick to… No, no, no. She would not let what happened ruin her day. When the car came in, quick as a pack of vultures, the team of men—and one woman—swarmed. Terry had left the engine running while he wiggled out. Callie smiled at the brown-haired driver once he removed his helmet. “Well?” she asked, pulling off her headset again. “What’d you think?” Terry’s grin was ear-to-ear. “You’ve outdone yourself, Ms. Monroe.” He held out his hand so he could shake hers. “These cars are incredible to drive. Can’t wait to get your specifications so I can start building my own.” It was Callie’s turn to grin. “That’s what I want to hear.” “I’m next,” Shane announced, Callie turning and then blanching. Shane had stripped down to his skivvies right there in front of God and everyone. He wore boxers. Red ones, and they hugged his curves like sports cars did a road course. “Uh, yeah.” Callie blinked a few times. “You are.” The boy was cut. Damn. He’d give Derrick a run for his money. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Veronica tipped her head, giving the kid a smile. “I’m sure Derrick will be disappointed to learn he’s been bumped out of line.” “His fault.” Shane slid his firesuit up and over his hips, but slowly, as if he worked at an all male review instead of driving a race car for a living. “What’s my fault?” Derrick said, Callie looking past Shane to see the man of the hour himself. “You missed out, old man.” Shane finally slid his firesuit up and over his muscular shoulders. “I’m taking this bad boy for a spin.” Derrick glanced at her, then back at Shane again. “Be my guest. Not like I haven’t already driven it.” “Not like I’ll be driving it, you haven’t.” Shane smirked. “That remains to be seen.” Derrick crossed his arms.

126

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Now, now,” Veronica soothed. “Let’s all be gentlemen, shall we? Shane, honey, I know you’re good, but why don’t we let Derrick shake the bugs out first.” Callie couldn’t believe her ears. They’d been shaking the bugs out all frickin’ morning. If she didn’t miss her guess, Veronica had just insulted Shane—and it wasn’t like her boss to do that to a drop-dead gorgeous, handsome hunk of a man. What was going on? Callie worked fast to diffuse the situation. “But I already promised Shane he could drive for a spell. Shane, hop on in.” The younger driver didn’t say another word, well, at least not with his mouth. He shot Veronica a look which clearly indicated his displeasure, but that might be her boss’s goal. Maybe this was yet another one of Veronica’s games. Sort of reverse psychology. Perhaps she figured if she insulted Shane, he’d think she wasn’t interested in him when in reality, she was, which would keep Shane on his toes and make Veronica seem above his reach. Callie snorted as she watched the driver climb into the car. She’d given up trying to understand her boss. Right now she had bigger fish to fry—like trying to figure out the appropriate way to act toward a man who’d made her cry out in pleasure, and who was currently staring at her. The pressure of his gaze was like a fire hose to the back of her head. “Test, test, one, two,” Callie said after pulling her headphones back on. “I read you loud and clear.” Shane had a sexy voice, Callie found herself thinking, only to immediately blanch. What had gotten into her lately? It wasn’t like her to jump a man while on the job. It wasn’t like her to find herself thinking about another man’s voice only a few minutes after having an orgasm with another. Maybe Veronica’s voracious, sexual appetite had rubbed off on her. “Take it slow at first,” Callie warned, watching as Shane gunned it off pit road. The man acted like this was a race. “The X-TREME Machine feels like nothing you’ve ever driven before.” “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Callie jerked upright. If she’d been able to use radio waves to slap Shane, she might have done so. What a jerk. Just went to show that Shane’s good looks didn’t extend to his heart. Unlike Derrick. She nearly groaned, sick to death of the man popping into her thoughts. She moved toward pit road wall, the California track relatively flat near the start/ finish line, and so it was easy to observe Shane at first. Sure, she could watch the action from a television screen imbedded into one of their toolboxes—the track featured closed-circuit television—but Callie preferred things live. So she turned toward golden hillsides dotted by oak trees. Those hills carried the track from left and right. Easy turns at first, harder turns later. There came a time when Shane disappeared from view, hidden behind some

www.samhainpublishing.com

127

Pamela Britton

hills. As silly as it seemed, Callie stood up on her tiptoe—as if it would help her see over the hilltops. It didn’t. “How does she feel?” It was the same question she’d asked every other driver, but she was interested in Shane’s response perhaps more than anybody else’s. Cocky though he may be, the man was good. He had the touch, and he was arrogant enough to give her his uncensored opinion about the X-TREME Machine. “So far, so good,” she heard him reply. The sound of the car out on the track faded in and out as Shane navigated the course. In about five seconds he was visible again only to dive like an eagle into a valley. She lost sight of him again. “How’s he like it?” Callie recognized the Southern drawl even though it was muffled by headphones. “Says so far, so good,” she replied, waiting for Shane to come into view again. She didn’t have long to wait. He reappeared on another tree-studded hill, only this time he wouldn’t plunge out of view. This time Shane would slowly wind his way through a series of S-turns, which is why Callie had a perfect view of Shane’s car suddenly lurching left, then right, and then an instant later, the crack of a rifle—or so it sounded. Callie knew the sound well. Blown tire. But Shane had it under control, or so she thought, because the next lurch brought the car further around…and beyond Shane’s ability. Her stalled breathing began again, Callie reaching for Derrick at the same moment her renegade breaths escaped as a gasp. Nothing could stop the car once it hit the dirt apron. What started as a spin turned into a tumble. Dust flew. Parts were jettisoned. The sound of the engine revved, dulled, revved again only to suddenly, thankfully, go quiet. Somewhere along the line she’d jerked her headphones off, which was why she heard Derrick say, “That had to hurt.” She glanced down at him for a moment, then quickly lifted her headphone. “Shane?” she asked. “You okay?” There was a moment of painful, never-ending silence before she heard Shane say, “Yeah, I’m all right.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “But I think your car is toast.”

128

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-One

“I’ve got to go.” Callie jumped down from pit road wall before Derrick could offer her a hand. “Callie, wait. I’ll ride with you.” She paused for a moment. “Not necessary.” She headed toward the ambulance, whose lights were already flickering red-blue-white. “Callie,” he tried again, but the damn woman ignored him. She was off like a shot. “I should probably go with her,” said Veronica, her skin as pale as soap. “I don’t think there’s room.” Which was an out-and-out lie. He’d spent more than a few hours in the back of ambulances and thus he knew first-hand how much space was inside, but his words had the desired effect. Veronica missed her ride, the ambulance taking off with a squeal of tires that mimicked Callie’s XTREME Machines. “Do do you think Shane’s okay?” “I’m sure he’s fine.” “But our cars have never been wrecked like that before.” She seemed genuinely terrified. “Relax, Veronica. It’d take a lot more than a wreck to dent Shane’s hard head.” Veronica the Pirahnica worried her bottom lip, her eyes glued to the accident scene a half-mile away. “I should drive out there myself.” “Terrific,” Derrick said. “I’ll go with you.” It was all the incentive Veronica needed. She darted off toward her rental car, pulling a set of keys from God knew where. She shoved herself into her car as if it were a pair of shoes she needed to cross a burning desert. She spared him hardly a glance as he slid into a seat next to her. Derrick found himself stealing glances at her flawless, makeup-laden face. “Should I just drive onto the track?” Derrick wanted to reply with a smart-ass comment, like how else were they going to get out there? Instead he bit the comment back “Just follow the route the ambulance took.” She appeared frazzled. Then again, she didn’t come from a racing background like Callie did. Callie had seemed all business as she’d dashed off. Callie. She was like those wooden puzzles. The kind with all those interlocking pieces. Just when you thought you had it figured out, wham, you realize you’ve hit a dead end.

Pamela Britton

“I hope he’s not hurt,” he heard Veronica mutter as she putt-putted along the road. He would have never figured Veronica to be they type to drive like an old lady, but he was half-tempted to tell her to get a move on before everyone left the accident scene. “I’m sure he’s fine. Callie’s a brilliant engineer. I’m sure the cars were tested for this type of thing.” “They were,” Veronica admitted. “And it cost us a small fortune, but I never thought… I mean, I just didn’t think…” He glanced over at her. Though a beautiful woman, Veronica had never seemed pretty to him. He suddenly realized why. Her eyes were always blank, very nearly unemotional. Not today. Today she seemed downright worried. “Relax. Rollovers are all part of the game.” “Easy for you to say. You’re used to them.” “So is Shane, believe me. But you’re right. If I’d been driving, this never would have happened.” “If you’d been driving,” she repeated, guiding the car through the first of the S-turns. They were making their way uphill, the accident scene out of sight for a moment. “You should have been driving,” she reminded him. Something about her voice caught Derrick’s attention. When he turned to look at her, he noticed she seemed agitated, almost irritated. “You sound as if you wish I were behind the wheel.” For a split second, their gazes locked and Derrick nearly drew back at the look in her eyes. That wasn’t irritation in the depths of her eyes, it was rage. Then it blinked out. The emotion wafted away as quickly as a puff of smoke. “No,” she cooed sweetly. “Of course I don’t wish that. You’re our star.” A star she despised. She might have swiped away the anger in her chalkboard-colored eyes, but he’d been branded by the look in her gaze. The hate. The venom. The rabid heat in their depths. She didn’t just hate him, she loathed him. “Veronica, look, about what happened between Callie and I—” “Here we are,” she announced in a sing-song voice. “And, look, there’s Shane. He’s already out of the car. Isn’t that a relief?” She stopped so quickly Derrick thrust a hand out toward the dash to stop himself from sliding forward. She opened the door and jumped out before he could say another word. He fell back against the seat for a moment, watching as she hurried toward the ambulance workers who were busy examining Shane. The young driver leaned against the bumper of the white vehicle, Callie standing nearby. She had her arms crossed, and she was obviously saying something to Shane because the driver shook his head as if saying no to one of her questions. “Damn.” The woman freaked him out.

130

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

He let himself out of the car, Callie having moved away from Shane to examine the shattered remains. Sheet metal littered the roadway, as if a multi-car collision had occurred instead of a single accident. Callie’s X-TREME Machine looked like a kicked up tin can, but he was relieved the roll cage had done its job. The driver compartment appeared perfectly sound. “Whatcha looking at?” Callie, who had leaned down next to one of the tires, started at his words. She had to squint against the sun as she peered up at him. “How’d you get here?” “I came with Veronica.” He squatted down next to her. “Did he pop a tire?” “That’s what he claims. But the damn things were brand new.” And yet there could be no denying the tire was flat. Then again, almost all race tires blew during a bad wreck. “Were they scuffs?” he asked. She shook her head, turning her attention to the tire again. “We don’t pre-run our tires. They’re straight from the factory.” “Hmm,” he mused. “Too bad there isn’t a way to examine it out here.” She stood up, glanced over her shoulder. “Maybe there is.” A tow truck had arrived, Callie waved it over. He knew what she meant to do then. Sure enough, the moment they hoisted the vehicle up off the ground, she told the driver to hold off a moment. Beneath a suddenly blazing hot sun, Callie spun the tire on the rim. Thankfully, it moved, and it didn’t take long for her to spot the problem. “There.” She spotted the nail at the same time he did. The thing was black—or maybe the asphalt had darkened it—the only reason why he’d spotted it because the sun had caught its edges. “Amazing that the head didn’t break off,” she added, picking at the thing with her finger. “Bad luck.” Derrick stood again. “Shame your car is toast because someone dropped a nail.” “Yeah.” But he could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to his words. “It is.” He watched as her gaze jumped back to Veronica, her lashes flickering a bit, probably because her boss was back to flirting again. She reached out and lightly clasped Shane’s shoulder, the man shaking his head, but smiling. That must have been what was wrong with her. She’d been terrified her future beau might be injured. Now, however, she’d obviously relaxed. Her smile was back to being as predatory as the piranha she reminded him of. “Okay,” Callie called to the tow truck driver, a big man who looked as if he doubled as a body guard in off-duty hours. “Take it away.” “This is going to make things difficult for the rest of the test session.” “What do you mean?” “You only have one car.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

131

Pamela Britton

“No. We have another one. Despite what I said earlier, I figured someone might get a little excited and wreck one so we have more than two.” She frowned as the tow truck began to move away. “I didn’t figure on a nail.” “You should tell your crew members to sweep the pits a little better.” Most crews ran a magnet over the asphalt before a big race, but this wasn’t a race and so someone might have gotten careless. “You’d be amazed at what you might find on pit road.” “Yeah, I know.” By now track officials had arrived, including a few volunteers, the men jumping out quickly and getting to work at setting the track to rights. It would be a little while before they had the dirt and debris cleaned up. “You need a ride back?” he asked before nodding toward Veronica’s rental. “I could borrow hers.” “No. I’ll stay here and help clean up.” He grabbed her hand before she could turn away. Derrick frowned when she yanked it away after quickly ensuring her boss hadn’t seen the gesture. “I want to talk to you for a moment.” She peeked over at her boss again. “If it’s about earlier, there’s nothing to discuss.” She tried turning away again, but he slid in front of her before he could take a step. “Please don’t brush me off.” Something about the look on his face must have caught her attention because she seemed to freeze in place. “What is it?” Frankly, he didn’t know what to say. He’d never felt this way about a woman before and putting his feelings into words wasn’t easy. He took a deep breath and in the end he simply said what was in his heart. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

132

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Hah hah, very funny.” She attempted to move away again even as her heart gave the craziest leap it’d ever felt. He wouldn’t let her move. “I’m not kidding.” It was funny, because he seemed to grow a few inches as he stood there. “I really do.” It was a blue-covered sky, birds chirping in nearby oak trees, the rhythmic swish-swish-swish of the worker’s push brooms, Veronica’s chatter in the background. It all seemed surreal. “I know this is kind of sudden, but I’ve never been one to wait around for something I want.” This time when he took her hand, she left it there. “I want you.” “No, you don’t.” She shook her head because for some really ridiculous reason, she felt about ready to cry. He appeared to bite back a smile before he asked, “Why not?” “Because I—” She swallowed, took a deep breath, shifted on her feet. This couldn’t be happening. Derrick Derringer hadn’t really just said he was falling in love with her. In the middle of a race track. Out in the open. With Veronica standing nearby. “Because I’m all wrong for you.” She hadn’t meant the words to come out sounding so harsh, but she could tell she’d wounded him somehow because of the way he drew back from her—as if she’d slapped him. “What do you mean you’re all wrong?” “Well…” She had to search for words again. “You know.” She waved at his tall frame. “You’re you and I’m…me.” “Me,” he repeated. “Yeah, and you’re Derrick Derringer.” “That’s my name.” “Famous race car driver,” she finished. “Sports Illustrated’s Man of the Year. Bazillionaire.” For a moment, a brief dizzying second, she felt like laughing—not at the insanity of it all, but because she was suddenly suffused by a sense of joy. It faded an instant later. She could never be with a man like Derrick for the same reason why she’d fought having sex with him. She refused to be one of those women she’d watched every weekend at the race track—clinging to a race car driver who promised he’d never break her heart—and then always did. She almost laughed,

Pamela Britton

although not in amusement. The only thing drivers were faithful to were their careers. She knew this for a fact. Fifty percent of marriages ended in divorce, but amongst race car drivers, the number was much, much higher. Not that he’d proposed marriage. “Say something, will you?” he asked, and God help her, he’d begun to look a little panicked. “Derrick, I—” She blinked against the sun, not tears. She was not crying. Nah ah. She would never cry because someone had told her they loved her. That someone was the man of her dreams. The man she would be a fool to get involved with. The man she could never be with because if she gave in to what he was silently asking for—her heart—she knew she would have to give up a lot more. She glanced around. She would have to give up everything. “It would never work.” She shook her head. “Yes, it would.” He resisted the urge to go to her. “I’ve been thinking about it. We could live together in North Carolina. I’m sure Veronica wouldn’t mind. You could cyber commute.” For half a heartbeat her mouth hung open. “You’re crazy.” She shook her head. “All of it. Crazy.” He gave up, closed the distance between them and cupped her face with his hands. “I care for you.” He looked her square in the eye so she knew he told her the truth. “A lot. You’re all I think about. You get it. Get me.” He messed her hair playfully. “You’re a gearhead.” She couldn’t move, felt her chest expand and contract as she wondered what it would it be like… Derrick. Every day. By her side. In her bed. “No.” She stepped back at the same time she darted a look at Veronica. “This is insane. I can’t—” “Callie,” he said sharply, grabbing at her hand again. They’d drawn the attention of Veronica and Shane, Callie trying—unsuccessfully—to jerk her hand away. He wouldn’t let her. “Look. I know this sounds insane, but I want you to come live with me.” He closed the distance between them again. “I want to be with you.” He smiled softly. “Not just when you can fit me in, but all the time.” All the time. Veronica started to walk toward them and she didn’t look happy. “Let me go,” Callie ordered. “No.” “Derrick,” she hissed. “I’m not letting you go.” “Yes, you are.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to be with you.”

134

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

She didn’t. Right? “Liar,” he said. “Let her go,” Veronica ordered. “I barely know you,” Callie contradicted. “And I would appreciate you keeping your distance from me from here on out.” “Yes, Mr. Derringer,” Veronica said. “Stay away from her or we’ll be forced to ban you from the XTREME Racing League.” To Callie’s surprise, her boss took up a stance next to her, arms crossed, shoulders back. Callie watched as Derrick’s gazed ping-ponged between the two of them, his brown eyes filling with…what? Disappointment? Sadness? Dismay? A combination of the three, Callie realized. He seemed genuinely hurt by her admission that she didn’t want to be with him. “You’re making a mistake,” he told her. “Actually, I think I just avoided one.” He nodded, turned. Where he was going, she didn’t know, but the funny thing was, she took a breath, almost as if she was going to call him back. She stopped herself just in time. “What was that all about?” Veronica asked. “Nothing.” Callie shook her head. He was walking back to pit road, she realized. She wondered if he’d be around when she finished up here, but then Veronica blocked her view. “Do you need me to take care of him?” Callie resisted the urge to peek around her boss. She had no idea what Veronica meant by “take care of him”, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to find out. “No.” She lifted her chin. “I think I’ve got things under control.” She turned, surveying the debris around her. “I’ll catch a ride with the maintenance crew if you want to take off with Shane.” Her boss didn’t say anything for a while, prompting Callie to try and glean what Veronica was thinking. Her green eyes were as hard to read as cut glass. “Just promise you’ll stay away from him.” Callie nodded and then turned away before Veronica could spot the tell-tale signs that a part of Callie—a surprisingly large part—wanted to do the exact opposite. A part of her wanted to chase after Derrick and tell him he was right. She cared for him too.

He should have left.

www.samhainpublishing.com

135

Pamela Britton

Derrick woke up the next morning wondering why in the hell he’d stuck around. He should quit XRL. Go back to NASCAR. Forget the whole thing. One thing stopped him. He didn’t want to leave Callie. Damn it, he wanted to be with her. Somehow, she’d snuck under his skin and rather than scare the hell out of him, he woke up excited. Yes, even though she’d flat-out rejected him. For now. So as he headed to the track, he promised himself he’d give her space. If she wanted to think she didn’t care for him, fine, he’d let her think that way. Sooner or later she’d recognize the truth; crazy as it might seem, they were perfect for each other. If Friday had been the poster child for California’s perfect weather, Saturday was the bastard stepchild. Fog had crept its way up the central valley, turning the world sepia black and white, shades of gray mixed in. He could barely see ten feet in front of him. “You made it,” one of his fellow drivers teased when he pulled to a stop on pit road. “Thought for sure I’d drive past the entrance to the track.” Bill or Bob or whatever his name was smiled at him in a friendly manner, Derrick returning the grin even as he scanned the area for Callie. Fat luck. He could barely make out the race cars in the distance. Something new had been added into the mix, however. He squinted. News vans. “I thought this was a closed session,” Derrick said. Bill—that’s what his name was Derrick suddenly recalled—shrugged. “I thought so too.” His California accent sounded evident to Derrick’s Southern ears. He had black hair and black eyes and a likeable face. “Looks like not anymore,” Derrick murmured. It didn’t take someone long to spot him standing there, although how they recognized him through a thick, grey soup was anybody’s guess. “Derrick Derringer,” a man said, a camera crew trailing in his wake. Within seconds, another crew headed toward him, then a third. “How’s the test session going so far?” asked someone from the first. “Fine. Just fine.” “Are you looking forward to the first XRL race of the season?” He had no idea what network the guy was from. Maybe local news. Maybe a freelance crew. Either way he hated when cameras were thrust into his face and if he didn’t move quickly, there’d be more questions to answer for the other news reps. “I am indeed,” and then took off without a backward glance. Bill, however, stayed behind. That suited Derrick just fine. Let the local guy speak to the press. “Looking for someone?” Veronica purred.

136

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Derrick shook his head. If there was one person on earth he was really starting to dislike, it was Callie’s boss. “Just avoiding the media.” He shot a glance back over his shoulder. “I thought this was a closed test session.” Veronica smirked. “You can’t control the press.” Which was BS, Derrick thought. It was easy to control the media. Just point to the door—or the exit as the case may be—and tell them to leave. “They heard about the tire blowing out yesterday. Obviously, they’re here in the hopes of catching some action.” Because with stock car racing season over, there was little to report on other than this. Derrick understood that at least. “Well, hopefully, they came here for nothing.” He would remember those words later. Once Callie showed up things began to move quickly. She had drivers line up for a safety meeting, though he noticed she never once looked him in the eye. Next she had one of her employees hand out the order of go—he would drive first—telling everyone to, “Stay safe,” before turning away. He almost followed her, almost called her name. Instead he held his ground, though he couldn’t help but feel impotent as he watched her walk away. “What’s it like to have a woman reject you?” asked a sarcastic voice. Derrick didn’t flinch when he turned to Shane. “You tell me.” Shane smirked. “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t had woman troubles since I won my first championship.” “Lucky you.” “Veronica tells me you won’t take no for an answer.” Derrick smirked right back. “Veronica thinks she knows everything.” The blond-headed driver with an ego nearly as big as the Empire State Building crossed his arms. “Well,” he drawled. “I don’t know. She knew enough to start up this league.” Derrick immediately bristled. “The X-TREME Racing League was Callie’s idea, not Veronica’s. Callie’s the brains behind this operation. She’s smarter than twenty Veronicas put together, so do me a favor. Get your facts straight before you talk to the media.” He left before he said something else he might regret later. He didn’t need to cause a scene with the press nearby, and that’s exactly where he was headed if he let Shane get under his skin. So he kept to himself. So did Callie. They waited a bit for the fog to clear before allowing drivers out on the race track. It wasn’t a long wait. As soon as the day started to warm, the fog made a quick departure, chased off by the sun. XRL crew members made fast work of getting him strapped into his car. From there it was a matter of minutes before he warmed up his tires for the first session of the day. “Road course crew says the track’s a little wet,” one of the engineers cautioned. “Callie said to take it easy at first.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

137

Pamela Britton

Where was Callie? “Roger that,” he said, knowing she was watching. She wouldn’t be able to keep away, no matter who was driving. So he took a tighter grip on the steering wheel. Determination made his field of vision narrow. He would show her just how good he was. Remind her of who he was. “How’s it look out there?” There she was. “Overcast sky. Lots of haze in the distance. Track’s a little wet, but it’s drying fast. Don’t take any unnecessary chances.” He frowned before opening the mic. “Roger that.” He was tempted to tell her he wasn’t a damn rookie. That was his frustration showing though. Patience, he reminded himself. Ten minutes later the track had gone from a steel gray to silver. “I’m going to let her out,” he warned as he approached the start/finish line. “Are you sure it’s dry enough?” “It’s fine.” He bit back another sarcastic comment. After spending half his life piloting cars, he ought to know when a track was ready to race on and when it wasn’t. Instead of letting the comment fly, he channeled his energy. One minute he was feathering the gas, the next he’d mashed it to the ground. It felt good. The first turn was an easy left. Nothing much to it. A narrow apron on his right, one made of loose rocks and dirt and so there was no margin for error. He had to keep the wheels on the track, and he did so perfectly, the engine revving a bit as he traveled up a slight incline. Next he would go right, and then a sharp turn left. Nothing too tricky. The S-turns near the end were the hardest part of the course. Which was why it seemed surreal when he turned the wheel left…and the car went right. “What the—?” He hit dirt, slammed on the brakes, turned the wheel again. Nothing. Steering gone. He hit a rut. Another. The third one sent his front end flying. The fourth one spelled disaster. His wheels bit into the earth. “Ah, shit.”

138

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Three

“What happened?” Callie asked, jumping off pit wall before she could stop herself. All she could see was a cloud of dirt. “Did his car roll? I can’t see.” Through her headphones she could hear someone calling Derrick’s name. She waited—heart slamming against her ribs—but all she heard was static. “Quiet,” she yelled to everyone around her. Only when people were silenced did she try to get through to him, her gaze still on the cloud of dirt in the distance. “Derrick, you there?” “I’m here,” she heard him say. Her shoulders instantly relaxed. “You okay?” “Fine.” Thank God. But the car…was it okay? She spun circles looking for the stupid toolbox with the television screen inside so she could see for herself. “Car looks fine,” someone called, Callie turning toward to the left. One of her engineers stood near the box—only about ten feet away. She ran to it. The camera had been trained on Derrick’s car, and—oh, thank God—he was in the midst of climbing out. He turned, waved to the camera. Just as he said. He was fine, but the car—well, at least it looked better than Shane’s car yesterday. “Let’s go,” someone, one of her crew members, advised. She should go with them. She didn’t. There was no reason to go tearing off after him. It wasn’t like yesterday when Shane’s car had flipped over. Obviously, Derrick was okay. Yesterday’s wreck had been much, much worse. She turned away from the television screen. “What happened?” “Don’t know.” Callie took a deep breath before facing Veronica. Her boss had been in a bad mood all morning. Callie had begun to suspect Jerry had told her about what he’d seen and Veronica was not happy about it. “Looks like he just lost control.” “Is he okay?” The woman had clothed herself in all black today. Black skin-tight leather pants. Again. Form-fitting black jacket. She looked like a Marvel Comics character with her long red hair and dark makeup—the evil villainess. “Sounds like it.”

Pamela Britton

“Is the car okay?” Veronica asked next. “I was watching from the pit road and so couldn’t exactly see, but I don’t think he rolled it. We would have heard that. It looks like he drove straight off the track, almost as if he didn’t even see the curve ahead.” Veronica shielded her gaze and peered toward the accident scene. In the distance, one could clearly see Derrick’s wrecked car, and then the tiny figure of Derrick standing next to it. A cloud of dust still hung in the air. The ambulance was just arriving. The tow truck wasn’t far behind, its yellow lights spinning. “Maybe he’s not the driver we thought he was,” Veronica drawled. An immediate rebuttal rose to Callie’s lips. Who was Veronica kidding? The man was a living legend. A part of racing history. He could drive circles—literally—around the rest of the drivers, including Veronica’s new-found friend, Shane. “Maybe he’s not,” Callie replied because she knew if she defended Derrick’s driving abilities, she might sound a little too defensive. Veronica would see right through her. “You going out there?” “No.” Callie frowned. “I’ll stay here and rearrange the schedule. Gonna need some time to go over the car which means another change to the lineup.” In hindsight, she should have brought more cars, but it wasn’t a race team she was running. These were prototypes and she was certain Veronica would have given her grief about spending too much money on cars that would never actually see a track other than today. Derrick eventually returned, Callie doing her best to appear unfazed by his near-disaster. Things didn’t get any easier, however. The rest of the morning one thing after another went wrong. Derrick’s car suffered from broken linkage next. On the car’s next trip out, four of the bolts holding the rear-end together snapped, causing yet another driver to lose control. That wasn’t the worst of it, however. The worst part was the press documented every minute of it. Cameras rolling, keyboards clacking, she could imagine the reports they’d file. X-TREME Racing League Off to Rocky Start. X-TREME Racing League EXTREMELY Dangerous. X-TREME Racing League Extreme Joke. Take your pick because that’s what’d they say. She knew it, and if she didn’t miss her guess, Veronica knew it too, because her dark mood became more and more prevalent the more the day dragged on. “This is ridiculous,” her boss bit out when yet another part failed—bolts on a tire this time. “What the hell’s going on, Callie?” “I don’t know,” Callie murmured as she examined the part in question. It almost looked as if the bolts had been sheared off. Maybe even intentionally, but that was a ridiculous notion. Who would go to such lengths to sabotage a race car? And for what reason? Why? Was one of the other racing leagues out to get

140

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

them? That idea seemed more ridiculous than the thought someone might be intentionally damaging their cars. “Let’s get this fixed,” she told them. It was a long day, made even longer by her interactions with Derrick. When he wasn’t driving, he seemed content to be by her side. At first she tried to ignore him, but as the day progressed, that became increasingly difficult to do. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the steering wheel fell off next,” she heard him mutter at one point. They’d just fixed a loose hose, one which had spewed water all over the engine resulting in a cloud of steam. Dramatic, but not detrimental to the health of the car. “It’s gotten to the point of being ridiculous, hasn’t it?” His brown eyes, when they met her gaze, were tinged with concern. “I keep looking for the black cloud, but all I see is blue sky.” She frowned, nodded. The fog was a thing of the past, the two of them standing beneath the pop-up tent that’d been erected near the start/finish line. Not only had the mist faded, but it’d grown hot. A few of the drivers, those who’d survived today’s test session, had gone home to escape the heat. Derrick could have left also. He hadn’t. “It’s almost like someone has it out for you,” he murmured next. She couldn’t help it, she grabbed the sleeve of his Polo shirt. Her glasses had slipped down her nose. She pushed them back up so she could see him better. “It is, isn’t it?” He didn’t mince words. “A few things here and there, I could see being accidents. But every time your backup car has gone out, something’s broken on it.” “Yeah, but it is our backup car. It wasn’t supposed to be used during our test session. Things have a way of breaking down when they’ve been sitting for a while.” “Broken linkage?” he asked, black brows lifting. “Stripped bolts? Cracked rear-end housing? I could understand a hose or two popping off, but the other stuff…?” In the distance, the car they’d just fixed, revved. The driver, Bill Cavenaugh, was taking it slow. Callie didn’t blame him. “Thank God there are only three drivers left.” She glanced around. “Lord help us if anything else happens.” She should put on her headphones, listen in on Bill’s conversations, but Callie didn’t have the heart. Even if nothing else went wrong today, the die was cast. The press would report their news, and XRL would come off looking bad, and so would Callie. She wondered if they’d lose drivers over the whole fiasco. Suddenly, her view was blocked by Derrick. “Seriously, Callie, do you think someone might be targeting the XRL?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

141

Pamela Britton

“Nah,” she drawled, refusing to go down that road. “I mean, sure, anything is possible, but why would someone want to sabotage our cars?” He didn’t say anything for a moment, Callie watching as Bill headed toward turn one. “To make you look bad.” “We’ll they’ve done a good job.” She shook her head. “But we’re not a threat to anyone. We’re a fledgling racing organization with a lot of big ideas. It’s too early to consider us competition.” “It’s never too early to consider anyone competition, especially in the cutthroat world of racing.” She couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re kidding, right?” When all he did was stare down at her, worry in his eyes, she couldn’t help but say, “You’ve watched one too many episodes of CSI.” “I think today’s just been…strange.” Compounded by the fact he’d asked her to move in with him yesterday—not that he’d mentioned it today. It was like the proverbial two-thousand-pound elephant in the room. “When will you have the first car repaired?” “Tomorrow. We’ll be staying late to fix the body. Mostly cosmetic damage. Engine is still sound, as is the frame. It’ll be nice to have two cars up and running. Maybe we’ll finish up early tomorrow.” “Maybe,” he echoed. “If you don’t lose another car by the end of the day.” “Don’t say that.” As it turned out, nothing further happened. The sun slowly sank into the horizon, Callie having convinced herself by the end that it was all just a coincidence. “You still sticking around afterward to work on the car Shane wrecked?” Derrick asked as everyone left the track. “I am.” “Then I’m here staying with you.” Here it was, the move she’d been expecting all day. “Derrick, about yesterday—” “This has nothing to do with yesterday.” “No?” “I want to keep an eye on things.” “Yeah, right.” “I do,” he said, slipping closer to her. “Honestly, Callie. Something’s not right.” Frankly, deep down inside, she thought the same thing too, but she didn’t want him to know that. “It’s all right. We’ve got things under control.” “Doesn’t seem that way.”

142

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

The sun was behind her and so she had a perfect view into his caramel-colored eyes. They looked utterly serious. “This from a man who’s been notoriously bad about following me to secluded places and losing all kinds of control, and who just asked me to move in with him yesterday, but has yet to mention a single word about that today.” She hadn’t meant to sound so disgruntled, but that’s how the words had come out. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” she quickly added. “That man just wants to hang out because he wants to keep an eye on things, and then says we’re out of control.” “Callie.” He invaded her space some more. “I haven’t forgotten about yesterday, nor am I about to let the matter drop. You sadly mistake me if you think I’m just going to walk away from something I want.” And I want you. The words were unspoken, but there in his eyes, and damned if Callie’s heart didn’t give a little lurch in response. “But this isn’t about that. This is about something strange going on and I would feel better.” He softened his gaze, lifted a hand to stroke the side of her face. “I would feel better if I kept an eye on the woman I care so much about…and the cars she designed and that mean so much to her.” Callie ordered herself to duck away, but her body wasn’t listening. “You’re just saying that.” He swooped in and stole a kiss before she could blink. “No,” he said, withdrawing a fraction of an inch, his sweet breath wafting over her face. “I’m not. Because if all I wanted to do was be alone with you, I’d wait until you came back to the hotel and ambush you in the parking lot.” “You don’t even know where I’m staying.” “Hartford Hotel. 211 Main Street.” The blood drained from her face. “Lucky guess.” “There’re only so many hotels in a thirty-mile radius. It was pretty easy to call them all and wait for the one that tried to connect me to your room.” Her gaze fixed on his lips. “You’re devious.” “No. Just desperate.” Their eyes locked. In that moment, at that exact instant, she admitted to herself that what she felt for Derrick was way more than simple attraction. “Desperate enough to fabricate a conspiracy?” He drew back a bit. “No.” Then his gaze hooked on something, something which caused him to draw back. Callie followed his gaze. Veronica. Her boss stared over at them. In the ensuing heat of the day she’d discarded her jacket, the black shirt she wore underneath no less revealing. “I want to keep an eye on things, just in case. I hope you’ll let me.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

143

Pamela Britton

She should say no. Should tell him to leave with everyone else. Instead she glanced over at Veronica, turning her head a bit so her boss couldn’t see her lips. Stupid precaution, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Veronica didn’t know how to read lips. The woman was devious like that. “Come back later.” She leaned in close to him. “After everyone leaves. They’ll be a few of the crew guys here but they won’t say anything.” “Don’t tell them I’m coming back.” “You really worried?” He glanced behind her, toward Veronica. “I am.”

144

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was probably nothing, Derrick told himself. Callie was probably right. All the problems with the race car were just one giant coincidence. However he couldn’t shake the feeling there was more going on then met the eye. Actually, what he couldn’t shake was the look in Veronica’s eyes. She’d seemed so off balance. So completely…crazed. That was the only word he could think of to describe it. So he would lay low. Keep an eye on things. Sure, he might have a hard time sneaking up on the place what with no outbuildings. Still, he didn’t suspect anyone would see him walk up. He would just need to be careful. He left pretty quickly then, Veronica the Pirahnica sending him the evil eye the whole time. If yesterday he’d thought she might not like him, today he suspected she loathed him. He returned once the sun had gone down. It was actually pretty easy to park his car off the main road and then walk up to the race track. The entrance was well-lit and Klieg lights off the back of the haulers worked like a beacon to steer him in the right direction. Even from a distance he could tell Callie and her crew had made progress. He scanned the area, wondering if he should hide out in the parts truck or something. Parts truck, he decided. From there he’d have an unobstructed view of the other car—the one Callie wasn’t working on. The so-called backup car. The moon hung like a sideways smile, and since they were far away from the nearest city—if one wanted to call a town of 2,500 residents a city—there was no ambient light. In other words, it was as dark as rubber outside. It was even darker inside the parts truck. The hinges squeaked a bit as he let himself in, all the while fighting back a smile. He felt like frickin’ Sherlock Holmes. Who would have thought he’d fly fourthousand-plus miles across country to become a crime scene investigator, not that a crime had actually been committed. At least not that he knew of. Derrick quickly learned stakeouts were boring as all get out, and sitting in a parts truck, the smell of solvent and burnt oil filling the air, all while the temperature dropped, wasn’t a lot of fun. If he cocked his head right, he could watch Callie working on the car. Callie. The woman he’d begun to fall in love with. When he’d first said that to her he’d wondered if it was really true, but after a good night’s rest he knew it was. He cared for her even though she frustrated the hell out of him. Even though she didn’t want a thing to

Pamela Britton

do with him. Even though she loved her X-TREME Racing League more than she could ever love him. See, that was the thing though. She did care for him—even if she had yet to admit it. Two hours later, Derrick gave up. It seemed he was on a fool’s mission. Nobody had attempted to approach the car, and to be honest, he felt a little silly sitting inside the parts truck all alone. Maybe he was overreacting. Race cars could break down. Callie could have bad luck. It could happen. Disappointed, he headed in her direction. “You just about finished here? “Jesus!” Rich gasped, dropping his wrench. A couple of the other guys looked up as well, all of them appearing startled to see him. “Where the hell did you come from?” one of them asked, the light off the end of the race car transporter bleaching out everyone’s skin. “I didn’t even hear you pull up.” “Neither did I,” echoed someone else. “I parked down the road a bit. Anyone seen Callie?” “She’s inside,” Rich said, pointing toward the hauler. It reminded him of the old days, Derrick thought. The times when he would pull an all-nighter in order to fix a car. Nowadays he showed up at the track to drive, or do promotional appearances and not much else. Gone were the days of actually working on something. Heaven forbid. He might break an arm and be unable to drive. “Callie?” he called as he opened up the sliding glass door off the back. At the end of the aisle was an office, though it was slightly elevated so you couldn’t really see who was inside. He spotted a pair of legs. “You in there?” he called. The legs moved. Callie emerged a few seconds later. “Did you catch someone?” She looked tired. No, exhausted, and it was all he could do not to rush to her side and pull her into his arms. “No. I gave up.” She looked disappointed, maybe even relieved. “I didn’t think you would. No one would want to sabotage our racing league.” “I guess not.” She held her ground. Derrick was tempted to close the distance between them, but he was aware of the eyes of her crew upon them. This time of night when the reflective surface of the glass doors didn’t have the sun shining on them it was easy to see inside the hauler. He was certain everyone was curious about what he was doing out at the race track at such a late hour. “You heading out soon?” he asked to fill the silence. She nodded. “I think we’re almost done.” “The car looks good.” He glanced through the window. Four pairs of eyes quickly shifted away. He almost laughed at how busy they tried to make themselves appear. “You’ve done a lot of work.”

146

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“I had to overnight the ruined quarter panels and front fenders from our engineering facility. Cost us an arm and a leg, but at least it’s fixed. We’ll have two cars ready to roll tomorrow.” “Everything else look sound? No broken struts or frame rails?” She shook her head. “All looks good.” “So tomorrow you’ll run two cars?” “We will. I’m actually looking forward to it. It’ll be like a mini-race.” When she smiled, her whole face lit up. He loved that about her. Even with her glasses on he could see the light in her eyes. “Will you go out on a date with me?” Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?” “When all this is over. Next week. Will you let me take you out?” She didn’t say anything for a long moment, but then she smiled a bit. “What happened to wanting to move in with me?” “I still want that.” Her smile faded. “So you were serious.” He stepped toward her, but she stopped him with a hand. “Of course I was serious. Did you think I was just saying that to get into your pants?” “The thought did occur to me,” she admitted. “Ridiculous.” He tried to tell her with his eyes just how silly, but he suspected he failed. “Sex is great with you. Better than great. It’s unreal, but I would never ask a woman to live with me just to get into her pants one more time.” She tipped her head to the side. “Have you ever asked a woman to live with you before at all?” “No. Never.” She appeared to consider the words for a moment. “You’re the first,” he added. He watched her take a deep breath, felt like smiling for some reason as she straightened up a bit, maybe even threw her shoulders back. “I’m flattered.” “But…” he prompted. “I can’t.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.” “What do you mean?” She picked up a bolt sitting on the counter, fiddled with it a bit before saying, “What if you’d met someone when you first started racing cars? What if that person had asked you to pick up and move right when your career started to take off? Would you have done it?” “Of course,” he answered.

www.samhainpublishing.com

147

Pamela Britton

“Would you?” she asked. “Really? Knowing how much time and energy you would need to devote to your career? Would you think it smart to do something like that right at that moment?” “Love can conquer all, Callie.” She stared at the bolt. “Can it, Derrick? I’ll be working long nights—like tonight. You’ll be racing, not to mention forming your own team. When would there be time for us?” He hadn’t thought that far ahead, he admitted. “We could do it.” He took another step. “If you loved me.” She didn’t say anything. “Do you feel anything for me, Callie?” He couldn’t breathe as he waited for her response, began to feel light-headed as the seconds ticked off. “Well?” he prompted. “No. Not that much.” “So you admit you do care for me little bit?” Crap. Was that him sounding so desperate? So needy? So damn clingy? “Of course.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I do care, Derrick. I care a lot. Just not enough.” It was like a stab to the heart. A physical pain. A moment of sheer disbelief. “I see.” She walked toward him then, paused when she was inches away. “Goodbye, Derrick.” She reached up on tip-toe and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck at the races.”

She walked away from him. It was the hardest damn thing Callie had ever done before and was likely to do ever again. It was for the best though. She did care for him. She’d known the moment she’d watched his car slide off the track that things had gotten serious. She cared for him more than she would have ever thought possible given the short amount of time they’d spent together. He was her hero. Her lover. Her friend. Still, a relationship with him would be disastrous. She’d watched so many driver’s marriages fail over the years, had often wondered why women were foolish enough to fall for one. Not her. Especially not now. Her heart and soul belonged to the X-TREME Racing League. That was a much safer bet. “I’m going to let you guys finish up.” She walked past them before they could say another word. “Sure thing, boss,” someone said, Callie didn’t know who. She headed straight for her rental, the dark blue looking black beneath sparse moonlight. She hadn’t locked it. Had, in fact, left her keys beneath the driver’s seat. She started it and immediately gunned it. Tomorrow promised to be a bitch of a day, she thought, barely paying attention to the road in front of her. She nearly ran over a jogger, Callie cursing the way her eyes kept tearing up. Damn it. She had no reason to cry. She’d broken up with him.

148

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Sleep didn’t come easy for her. And the next day Callie woke up with a splitting headache. Coffee didn’t help, either. Fortunately, she didn’t run into Veronica in the lobby, and even though Callie knew she’d hear about it later, she didn’t call her to see if she wanted a ride out to the track. She grabbed a copy of the local newspaper on her way out, but she refused to flip to the Sports section and read the headline. To her utter shock, Veronica was already at the track, her boss greeting her with a wide smile. “Good morning,” she said in a sing-song voice. Manic. She had to be. Veronica’s mood swings were like the rise and fall of a barometer—unpredictable and oft times leading up to no good. “Morning,” Callie said, heading straight for the race car they’d worked on the night before. It looked good. The boys had done a great job. “Let’s shoot for an early start,” she told Chet. “First driver to show up is the first man out on the track. Whoever shows up next gets into the backup car. Let me know when we’re ready to start.” She let herself into the hauler without a backward glance, barricading herself in the office. She braced herself before opening up the paper. It was as bad as she’d expected. X-TREME RACING LEAGUE—X-TREMELY INCOMPETENT. What followed was painful to read. It was a brutal summary of the events that had happened the day before, with the reporter’s own colorful slant. They were all inexperienced incompetents, according to him. And Veronica…well, she’d been portrayed as a silly socialite, someone with so little to do she’d created her own racing league. The reporter predicted by the end of next year, XRL would be no more. “We’re ready.” Callie glanced up from the article she’d been reading. She resisted the urge to shield it from Chet’s view, but what was the point? Sooner or later everyone in XRL would catch wind of what the media was saying. The trick was to weather the storm. “I’ll be right there.” She folded up the paper before Chet backed out of the door. It took her a moment to compose herself. She actually surveyed herself in the mirror, looking for chinks in her armor. She’d worn red today—a color of courage, she’d thought. Or blood. Stop it. Today would be a better day. It had to be. “Who’s up first?” “Derrick and Bill,” Chet reported, handing her a headset. “Let’s have at it then.” She surveyed the parking area. Media again. Bah. This was supposed to be a closed session, but Veronica had superseded the order for reasons known only to herself. It looked as if a few of the other drivers were starting to arrive as well. All in all a full house. Terrific.

www.samhainpublishing.com

149

Pamela Britton

Chet gave the order for the drivers to take to the track. Callie glanced toward where the cars were parked. Derrick stood by his vehicle, a white firesuit pulled over his tall frame. They’d put him in the original car she’d designed, the one they’d repaired the night before, but he didn’t get in immediately. He stood there, looking at her. Callie stared back. It was for the best, she told herself. She turned, slipped on her headphones, just in time to hear Bill’s voice come through the tiny speakers. “Should I start it up?” “Go ahead,” Callie heard Chet reply. The car engine cranked over. She listened with half an ear. It sounded like the timing was off. BOOM. A percussion wave hit her square in the face. She screamed, tried to shield herself. When at last she looked up, she gasped. Bill’s car had exploded.

150

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Five

One minute he was on his feet, the next Derrick was flat on his back. “Derrick!” he heard someone cry. Callie? His ears rang so badly he felt like he was inside a bell. “Oh my God, Derrick.” He couldn’t move either. His body felt like it was on fire. Every nerve ending buzzed—like he’d been shocked. “Derrick, are you okay?” He was surprised to find himself on the ground, looking up. To his right he spotted a huge column of black smoke. To his left Callie, eyes wide, concern shading her gaze. There were footsteps. People running. A sound he recognized but it took him a moment to place. Fire extinguishers. “Step back,” someone ordered Callie. He grabbed her hand before she could move back. “She stays,” he said, though it took effort to speak. His back felt broken. “Derrick. Oh, God, Derrick,” she murmured. “I thought you were—” Dead. “What h’ppened?” One of the EMTs shined a light in his eyes. Derrick blinked against it. “I don’t know.” She glanced in the direction of Bill’s car, only to look away. She was blinking rapidly, as if about to cry. “Bill,” she said softly. She had a dirt smudge on her cheek. He tried to wipe it away. “Don’t move,” the EMT ordered. Someone, the other EMT, grabbed his wrist, took his pulse. “Can you wiggle your fingers and toes?” the man with the flashlight asked. Derrick waved at the man. He assumed his toes were wiggling. It felt like they were. Whatever he’d done must have satisfied the EMT because he wrapped a blood pressure couplet around his arm next. “Anything hurt?” the man—his name tag said Paul—said. “Any tingling in your extremities?” “At first.” He tried moving a little. “Gone now.” He was able to breathe better now also. Wind knocked out of him. “Pulse rate one-ten” his partner said.

Pamela Britton

“Blood pressure normal. Let’s get him on a backboard.” “Think I can walk,” Derrick said. “No,” Callie contradicted. “The force of the…of the…” He saw her swallow. “Blast knocked you into the pit wall. We don’t know if anything’s broken.” Well, that explained why he was on the ground. “Don’t move,” the EMT ordered. Ironic he would need to be taken to the hospital not because he’d wrecked his car, but because of something else. “What happened?” he asked, the paramedic opening the Velcro on his white firesuit so he could listen to his heart. Callie shook her head, squeezed his hand harder. “I don’t know. Fuel line? Fuel tank? I don’t know. But, Bill…” Hadn’t made it. Derrick had only to look into her eyes to know the truth. “Not your fault.” The tears began to fall then. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Someone brushed by her. All he could see were legs. Then a microphone was thrust in front of him. “Derrick Derringer, will you continue to drive for the X-TREME Racing League given the recent developments?” “What the fuck is this?” someone asked. Chet. The crew chief grabbed the reporter by the back of the shirt and tossed him aside. “Get the hell out of here, you jack ass. Can’t you see we’re trying to get him to a hospital?” Paul fitted a collar around his neck before saying, “Okay, we’re going to lift you. One, two—” Three was the lift. Derrick gasped at the pain it caused. Crap. Maybe he really had broken his back. “Let’s go,” Paul said. “I’m going with,” Callie said. “Sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to follow in a car.” “But—” “Want her to come,” Derrick said. “Sorry. No one’s allowed to ride along. Company policy.” They hefted him into the back of the ambulance before he could say another word, Derrick’s last glance of the race track was of a column of black smoke.

“I’ll give you a ride.” Callie turned toward Veronica right as a camera was shoved in her face. “Veronica Adams, what are your plans for the X-TREME Racing League now?” “Hey,” Callie cried. “Leave her alone.”

152

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Veronica turned toward the camera as if this were a planned press conference. “Nothing’s changed,” she announced. “This is just a terrible accident. The X-TREME Racing League will go on.” She hooked an arm through Callie’s and guided her toward Veronica’s black rental. They were inside before someone could hurl another question in their direction. “Hang on,” Veronica said. She gunned it so hard Callie had to do exactly that, all the while wiping away tears. When Bill’s car had exploded… Bill. She swallowed, hard, jammed her fingernails into her pants. It hurt, but she didn’t care. She needed the pain. Needed to ground herself. It felt like a bad dream. “We need to get a handle on what we’re going to say to the media,” Veronica said before they’d driven a quarter of a mile. “Get our stories straight.” “What do you mean?” “Clearly, Callie, somebody is targeting the X-TREME Racing League.” It was so close to what Callie had been thinking she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. It seemed impossible Veronica had jumped to the same conclusion, and yet she had. “We don’t know that for sure.” But Callie was really thinking out loud. “A fuel line might have come loose. It might have been leaking fuel all night and when he started the engine, the fumes ignited.” “Callie.” Veronica’s tone tinged on condescension. “I dated a stunt driver. That was not a fuel-related explosion. That was a bomb.” “We don’t know that,” Callie insisted, and they didn’t. Not really. “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a bomb, but it was the latest in a long line of freak accidents. I don’t believe in so many coincidences.” To be honest, Callie didn’t either. “So we need to be prepared. Bill. He’d looked…Dead. The word echoed in Callie’s head, ping-ponging around her mind even though her brain found the notion impossible to compute. “I want to hire someone to do an internal investigation.” Veronica seemed to be thinking out loud too. “You know how the police are. They don’t like to share. I want to know straight away if something is up, and if it is, to alert the media.” “Alert them?” Callie asked, swiveling in her seat. “Why would we want them to know?” “It’s called spinning a story. If someone is targeting our racing league, it’ll make headline news. We’ll be a household name by the time all this is over.” Callie couldn’t believe Veronica’s cold-blooded assessment. Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised. The woman wasn’t normal. That much was clear. “And if Derrick…” she swallowed, the word getting lodged in her throat, “…dies?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

153

Pamela Britton

“He’s not going to die.” Callie’s eyes widened even further. Her boss sounded almost disappointed. “He just got knocked over by the blast.” Was she for real? They didn’t know the extent of Derrick’s injuries. He could have internal bleeding. Shrapnel lodged in his body. Callie’s imagination went wild. If he died… She felt tears fill her eyes. “When we get to the hospital, let me talk to the press.” “You think they’ll be there?” “Not right away, but they’ll get there eventually. And so we need to be prepared. Don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking.” Which was fine with Callie. All she wanted to do was be with Derrick. “Do we know how Bill is?” Veronica asked. When would she have heard about Bill, Callie wanted to ask right back. “No,” she said instead. “Text Chet and ask.” She didn’t want to. She really didn’t. Frankly, she didn’t want to know how Bill was given that the answer seemed obvious. Bill was dead. He had to be. Nobody could have survived a blast that large and lived. DOA. That was the response Callie got. “He’s dead,” Callie said. Veronica nodded sharply. “That’s what I thought. We’ll have to craft a response to that too.” Is that all she cared about was the media? It certainly seemed that way. Callie turned away, fighting back tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of Veronica. She’d liked Bill. A lot. “We’ll need to alert our attorney as well. That damn Release of Liability he created for us better hold up in court.” “Veronica, please. Can we talk about this later?” Her boss glanced at her sharply. Callie almost recoiled. There was so little sadness in her eyes. No pity. Not even concern. “Whatever.” She waved her red-tipped hand. They made the trip in record time, Callie fighting tears the whole way. When they arrived at the ER, Callie learned she wasn’t allowed to see Derrick. She almost started bawling. “Only immediate family,” the duty-station nurse told her. So she was forced to wait, and it was agonizing. The whole time she wondered—had she done the right thing? Should she have said yes to Derrick’s offer to move in with him? Had she been a coward to say no? They might have been able to make it work. Shouldn’t she have at least tried…if she loved him?

154

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Loved? She scrubbed a hand over her face because there was no sense in denying it anymore. “Callie Monroe,” a pink-jacketed nurse called. Callie sat up abruptly. “That’s me,” she answered, wiping at tears she hadn’t even known she’d been shedding. She kept thinking about Bill and his family… The nurse, a kindly-looking older woman, smiled. “Mr. Derringer is asking for you.” Her heart leapt. She shot Veronica only the briefest of glances before racing to the nurse’s side. “Right this way.” “Is he okay?” she asked. “Nobody will tell me anything.” They entered a narrow corridor, one with white walls and floors and that led to an open area at the end, one filled end-to-end with beds surrounded by green curtains. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” The nurse motioned to her left with a smile. “Derrick,” she murmured, rushing toward him and little caring the tears shot out of her eyes. He winced a bit as he opened his arms to hug her. She drew up short. He wore a green hospital gown, Callie grateful it wasn’t stained with blood. “Can I touch you?” He smiled a bit, a wonderful, crooked smile which tugged at her heart strings and made her realize she really had been a fool to say no to him. “Bruised ribs. From my impact with the ground. But that’s all.” “You’re okay?” she asked, sitting down next to him. “I’m fine,” His smile faded. “And Bill?” Do you know what’s going on with him? I’ve asked, but he’s not in the ER.” Callie tried not to react, she really did. She didn’t want to upset Derrick, but she couldn’t keep her face from revealing the news. “He didn’t make it, did he?” She shook her head. She watched as he tipped his head back, covered his eyes with his hand, his oath seeming to sum it all up. “Son of a bitch.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

155

Chapter Twenty-Six

He’d known it would be bad news. Of course he’d known, but it still didn’t soften the blow for Derrick as he lay in the hospital bed. “Do they know what happened?” he heard himself ask. “No. It’s too soon to say. Chet and I talked about a fuel line. Or a short near the tank, but the force of the explosion…” He removed his hand, looked Callie square in the eye. “It wasn’t an accident.” She pursed her lips, looked like she might deny it. “Veronica doesn’t think so.” “And you?” “I don’t know what to think,” she mused. “But I’ve never seen a fuel tank go up like that. Never.” Neither had he. It’d knocked him away from his car. The doctor had said if that hadn’t happened, he’d have been severely burned. “But I still can’t believe that someone would—” Kill someone, he finished for her. He couldn’t believe it either, but they had to consider the possibility. “Maybe we shouldn’t get too worked up until we know for sure what happened.” She nodded, appeared about to say something, but the male nurse who’d been with him through Xrays and a CAT scan interrupted them with a verbal, “Knock, knock.” He smiled at the two of them. “Got your discharge papers right there.” He waved a packet of information at them. “You can go ahead and get dressed. Might hurt a bit. You’re going to be sore for a few days. We’ll give you prescription for pain meds. Just sign right here.” It hurt to sit up even though they’d already given something for the pain. He hurt from head to toe, every bone in his body feeling as if it’d been run through a shredder and spat back out again. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t broken anything. He’d been through multi-car wrecks that hadn’t hurt him as much. “You’re going to need a ride back to your hotel, aren’t you?” Callie asked. “If you don’t mind.” “Veronica drove me here.” Crap. “We can take a cab.” “We could, but we’d need to check in with her.” “Why would we need to do that?” Her brows lifted above the rim of her glasses. “Because she’s my boss.”

Burning Rubber

“So?” “I need to check in with her.” “No, you don’t.” Man, she just didn’t get it. “That woman walks all over you. It’s time you started standing up to her. Hell. Tell her I told you not to check in with her. I don’t care. I just can’t stomach the thought of seeing her right now.” Her expression seemed to say she understood perfectly. “What if Veronica spots us leaving?” “We’ll go out the back.” She seemed to accept the fact he wasn’t going anywhere with Veronica. “I’ll see if there’s a back way out of here.” Ten minutes later they were on their way, though Derrick wondered how he’d manage to get on a plane the next day when it came time to go home. It’d damn near made him sick to his stomach it’d hurt so much to get dressed. Crap, it even hurt to breathe. He could barely walk. When it came time to climb into the taxi, he couldn’t keep himself from gasping in pain. “Thank God it’s a short ride to your hotel.” His face had broken out in sweat, his teeth hurt he’d ground them together so hard. “It feels like I fell out of a plane. Damn it. I’ll take rolling over in a race car any day of the week.” Her eyes had begun to glisten. Derrick reached toward her. “Shhh,” he soothed. “It’ll be okay.” She shook her head, the tears falling down her cheeks. “No, it won’t. Bill’s dead and I’m responsible.” It hurt like hell to lean toward her, but he did it anyway. “It’s not your fault.” “I designed the car. What if I missed a bad fuel cell? Or if something I designed was wrong? What if I caused his car to explode?” “Then we’ll deal with it.” She lifted her glasses, wiped at her tears. “You make it sound so simple.” He tipped her face so she was forced to stare into his eyes. “It is that simple.” Those stunning gray-green eyes of her looked away from his. “I keep thinking about Bill’s family. Wondering if anyone’s called them. Or if I’m supposed to call them. I want to speak to Chet to find out what’s going on…” She shook her head, appeared to swallow back more tears. “But I’m too afraid.” “Then I’ll call Chet.” Her glaze snapped to his. “You’d do that?” “Callie,” he said gently. “When are you going to realize I would do anything for you?” She didn’t look away. “I really would. When I was sitting in that hospital, all I could think about was you, about how much I wanted you to be with me. I’ve never felt this way before. I think I love you. This has to be love.” “I know,” she admitted softly.

www.samhainpublishing.com

157

Pamela Britton

“Do you feel the same thing?” he asked, cupping her face with his hands. “I do.” She blinked, swallowed again. “I really do.” He smiled. “But the timing’s all wrong.” She took a deep breath. He could hear tears wobbling around the edges of her words. “Especially now.” Her cell phone rang, both of them jumping, though Derrick’s movement was immediately followed by a gasp. She pulled the cell from her pocket, her expression falling. “Veronica.” He took the phone from her and took the call before she could protest otherwise. “She’s taking me home,” Derrick clipped. “Excuse me?” he heard Veronica say. “I’ll have her call you when she’s finished.” “I don’t think so—” He ended the call before Veronica could get another word in edgewise. “And that’s how you handle Veronica,” He smiled at Callie. “If only it were that simple.” The phone rang again. Derrick shut the thing off, handed it back to her with a smile. “It might be about Bill. Or some other horrible thing that’s happened at the track.” Pain drifted into her eyes again. “You can lean on me, you know. I can help you deal with this.” “No, you can’t.” The words came so suddenly, so quickly, he was taken aback. “Why not?” He was feeling woozy from the drugs, but had his wits about him enough to notice the way she squared her shoulders, the way she seemed to face off against him. “I swore I would never be my mother.” “What?” Her eyes flicked away for a second. “I loved my parents, don’t get me wrong. They were married for thirty years.” “I don’t understand what the problem is then.” Her mouth flinched, almost as if her memories were painful. “It was what my mom gave up for my dad. Everything. She lived for my dad.” “So? What’s wrong with that?” She pinned him to a wall with her glare. “I want to have a life.” “You could.” “No,” she huffed out. “Tell me what driver’s wife has ever had a life?” “Plenty of them have. A lot of them even have their own businesses.” She leaned toward him. “Centered around their husband’s driving career.”

158

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Not true. Some are teachers. A few work for other race teams. A few even have careers outside of racing.” “Like who?” He searched his mind. “Well, I can’t think of anyone at the moment, but I know they’re out there.” Callie shook her head. “Derrick, I’ve been around racing for a long time. I know what it’s like. Sooner or later the wife of a driver is sucked up in supporting her husband’s racing career, and if they’re not doing that, they’re raising kids.” “You don’t want kids?” She tipped her chin up. “Not right now. Maybe not ever.” He appeared thunderstruck, as if he’d never given thought to the idea she might not want children— and likely it hadn’t. She turned away, peering outside the taxi’s window, for some reason inexorably sad. It was all too much, she thought. Bill’s death. Derrick’s vow of love. The fact that someone might be sabotaging her cars. Or maybe not. Maybe this was, in fact, all her fault. “You’re making a mistake,” he said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “Am I? See, I think I’m keeping the two of us from making an even bigger mistake.” The words were hard to say though. He was her dream come true. A man she’d watched on TV for years. A man who, unbelievably, found her not only attractive, but worthy of love. Alas, she knew she could never have him. Not if she wanted to live life on her own terms. She refused to be like her mother. So many regrets. So many what ifs. “Maybe in a few years.” “No,” he said quickly and instantly. “I’m not a patient guy.” They’d pulled up in front of his hotel. Callie wondered for a moment how he’d get into his room. He didn’t have anything but his firesuit on. “Then I guess this is it.” Lines bracketed his mouth. “I guess so.” He opened the car door, but before he slid out, he said. “Take care of yourself, Callie.” She nodded. “You too.” She knew this was it. He was not the sort of man to beg. She knew that, had to look away to keep him from seeing the tears forming in her eyes. You’re doing the right thing. You’re saving both of you from future heartache. But it was too late, she realized. Her heart was already broken.

www.samhainpublishing.com

159

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was all over the news the next morning. Callie woke up with her eyes stuck together thanks to a never-ending crying jag. She’d ended up going back to the track yesterday and one glimpse at Bill’s car had been all it took to send her running to the trailer. It hadn’t helped matters that she’d been almost immediately interrupted. The coroner had wanted to talk to her and so she’d been forced to choke back her grief until she’d regained the privacy of her hotel room. The moment the door had closed behind her, she’d collapsed. Now this. She’d known it might happen. What she didn’t expect was the crowd of media personnel in the front lobby. “Callie Monroe, what do you think caused the explosion yesterday?” someone asked, thrusting a recorder in front of her face. “Have you spoken to Bill Cavanaugh’s family?” She was nearly blinded by the light on the television camera. “Do you think you might be to blame?” She almost stumbled. Did she think she might have killed Bill? Yes. There was no use denying it. Sure, it would be nice to blame a faceless saboteur, but that seemed far-fetched. Besides, one of the first rules of engineering was the simplest explanation was usually the answer you were looking for. “I have no comment.” Where the hell everyone had come from, and what in the hell did they want with her? Surely they had some real news to report. “There you are,” Veronica said, ambushing her from the left, even though Callie had no idea where she’d come from. “We’ll be right back.” She turned Callie toward a hallway with a conference room off to one side. That’s where she’d been hanging out. She slammed the door before turning on her. “Why in the hell weren’t you answering your phone?” It’s time you started standing up to her. Yes, Derrick, it was. “I didn’t feel like it.” She tipped her chin up. “Ex-cuse me?” “I might have killed a driver thanks to something I did wrong. Honestly, Veronica, there was nothing you had to say that couldn’t wait until today.”

Burning Rubber

Her boss’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Callie noticed she’d painted it red to match her nails. Actually, she was clothed in a skin-tight suit that just so happened to be red also. Callie thought she looked like a giant flame. “Don’t you dare grow a spine on me now,” Veronica all but spat. Callie drew back, stunned by the venom in her voice. “Okay, Veronica. When would you like me to grow a spine then?” The step Veronica took toward her managed to convey both wrath and determination. “Shut up and listen to me.” She leaned toward her at the same time she crossed her arms. “Yes, you might have caused Bill’s car to explode. But that’s not how this is going to play out with the press. You’re going to claim we’ve been the victim of sabotage. That this wasn’t your fault. That for several weeks now I’ve suspected someone was out to get us.” “Have you?” She held her hand up impatiently. “But that I couldn’t prove anything. You’re going to tell them that, in your mind at least, it’s been proven, and that the person who did this will pay. If you can add in a few tears, so much the better.” “You want me to lie then.” “Lying?” she shrugged. “Who said anything about lying? I have suspected a saboteur. So right now I need you to be a team player. Go out there. Express your condolences over Bill’s loss, but do not blame yourself. If you infer that you might be responsible, it will put the X-TREME Racing League in a vulnerable potion. Especially if this goes to court.” Whatever else she’d been about to say was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Veronica Adams?” a bald-headed man in a black business suit asked. He flashed something Callie couldn’t see. A badge, obviously, but what kind? “Yes,” her boss asked, but she didn’t step back from the door. “I need to speak to you and Callie Monroe about what happened yesterday.” Veronica didn’t say anything at first. Callie stepped forward. “I’m Callie Monroe.” The man nodded. “Sam Mathers.” He flashed a badge. “I’m heading up the homicide investigation.” “Homicide?” Veronica gasped. “Yes, ma’am,” the man said. “Preliminary tests have revealed the presence of an explosive substance. Bill Cavanaugh’s death wasn’t an accident, it was a murder.” Veronica whirled toward her at the same time she stepped back from the door to allow Sam Mathers into the room. “See. I told you.” Callie went numb. Murder? “But why would someone kill Bill?” “We don’t know, ma’am,” Sam answered, “but I’ll need the two of you to come down to the station and answer some questions.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

161

Pamela Britton

“Sure.” “We’re about to give a press conference.” “I understand that. I’ll wait until you finish. But if you don’t mind, we’d like to keep a lid on the murder investigation for now.” Murder. The word seemed so harsh. Like an exclamation mark at the end of a sentence. “But why?” Veronica asked. “The press needs to know what’s going on. Bill’s family—” “Has been notified,” Sam said. “The media can wait.” He wouldn’t brook any arguments, Callie could tell. He withdrew a tiny notebook from his pocket. “But before you go out there, you mind me asking you a few questions?” Veronica was all business now. She sat down on the edge of the conference room table and affecting a look of helpful interest. “Sure.” “You too, Ms. Monroe,” the officer said. “Whatever I can do to help.” Now that the shock had worn off, the relief she felt was almost instantaneous. It wasn’t her fault. Thank God it wasn’t her fault. “Do you know why someone would try and kill Mr. Cavanaugh?” “No reason whatsoever,” Callie answered, Veronica glancing at her first before nodding in agreement. “But it wasn’t necessarily Bill the killer was targeting.” “What do you mean?” “I didn’t have a driving order posted and so nobody could have known Bill would be the first one out.” Sam frowned. “Had you posted an order before?” “Every day. But I was hoping to get an early start yesterday so I told our team to put in whoever showed up first.” Sam wrote something down in his notepad. “And who was first in the previous days?” Callie stiffened a little. “Derrick Derringer for one.” Could Derrick have been the target? Shock turned to electricity at the notion. “And before that?” “James Mattos,” Callie provided. Sam stopped writing. “So you’re telling me there was no way of knowing for sure who would be sitting in the car that exploded yesterday.” She shook her head. “We were running two cars also. Either of the two drivers could have picked a car.” The notebook was slapped closed. “Okay, terrific. That’ll do it for now. I’ll want you to come down to the station as well.”

162

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Both Callie and Veronica nodded. Callie felt like she was in episode of CSI. “Sure.” “But like I said, keep the murder investigation under wraps for now.” “When can we let the public know?” Veronica said. “Tomorrow or the next day.” Veronica seemed pleased. Pleased. As if Bill’s death was a part of her master plan, but that was Veronica for you. The woman didn’t have feelings. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to watch your press conference.” “No problem,” Veronica added, scooting away from the table to open the door. “We’ll go do that right now. Callie, why don’t you let me speak first?” Callie didn’t care who did what. She was still reeling from Sam’s revelation. Some was out to sabotage the X-TREME Racing League. That had to be what was going on because the killer had to know anybody could have slid into the driver’s seat of the rigged car. Anybody. What followed was a half hour of pure torture of standing there and listening to Veronica, and then her own turn at being grilled. When she finished, there was no reprieve from the headache quickly building in intensity. She was forced to sit for an additional two hours while the local police department asked the same questions over and over again. Who would want the X-TREME Racing League to fail? Who had access to the race cars? Had she seen anything strange the night before? By the time she was free to return to the race track, all she wanted to do was climb into a hole and cry. She didn’t. When she drove through the road course’s entrance, however, she faced a whole other set of horrors. The burned-out hulk of the race car was still in place, yellow crime-scene tape strung around it. A few more reporters were at the track, Callie offering a crisp, “No comment.” “This is crazy,” Chet said. “I know,” Callie replied. “You must be going crazy.” “To tell you the truth, I just want to go home.” They couldn’t leave, and it was torture hanging around with nothing to do. The police had asked them to touch nothing while they gathered evidence. So Callie hid herself in the front of the hauler. She told herself she needed to hold it together. That she needed to think about Bill’s wife and what she was dealing with. Still, thinking about Bill made her think about Derrick, and her decision to let him go. It killed her. He was a good man. Kind to both her and race fans alike. He’d looked beneath her tomboyish façade and seen the woman she really was. A woman who didn’t want children.

www.samhainpublishing.com

163

Pamela Britton

He’d been devastated by the revelation. If he’d been willing to overlook her other flaws, he hadn’t been able to overlook that. So she pushed on, though it took all her strength to get through the next few days. She focused on helping the police as best she could. She was interviewed four more times, and even though she knew she didn’t kill Bill Cavanaugh, every time she sat down with police it felt as if they thought she did. She heard all the drivers were interviewed too, which was probably why drivers started dropping out of the XRL like flies. Who wanted to be part of a racing organization that couldn’t even guarantee your safety off the track? Then, of course, there was Bill’s funeral. She thought long and hard about whether or not she should attend, but in the end she knew she had little choice. Bill had been one of the XRL’s drivers. He’d died while in one of her race cars. She owed it to his family to be there. So she went. So, too, did half the racing community…or so it seemed. Bill had driven for years on the West Coast and so he had a vast cadre of friends, many of whom Callie recognized from her years trying to work her way into the stock car racing circuit. Still, Callie was shocked to see Derrick there, although in hindsight she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Derrick might be the most recognizable person to arrive at the graveside services, but he didn’t act like it. He shook the hands of his fellow XRL drivers, and when Bill’s wife arrived, he quietly spoke to her, his eyes clearly full of sorrow and compassion. She had to look away. It was a crystal-clear day, the kind of morning that dawned rarely in coastal California which was where Bill was from. The sky was a blue so deep it looked almost purple. Around them lay a thick carpet of grass and tall trees in the midst of losing their foliage. Yellow and brown leaves dotted grave sites, in some instances the tops of headstones. Callie knew this because she found herself looking anywhere but at Maria, Bill’s wife. Sooner or later she would need to offer the woman her condolences, but she could hold off for now. Unfortunately, Callie knew all too well how these services worked. Having buried both her parents she’d spent more than her fair share of time beneath similar tents. Knew all too well what it was like to sit in the front row, staring at a glistening casket, all the while trying hard not to cry. “You going to sit down?” So engrossed had she been at staring at the ground she hadn’t spotted Derrick’s approach. “No.” She clenched her hands in sadness. “I think I’ll hang back.” She had to take a deep breath before looking into his eyes. She was shocked when their gazes me. Tears. Not right at the moment, but it was evident he’d shed some on Bill’s behalf. “I’m so sorry, Callie.” She had no idea what he was sorry for. She wasn’t the one whose husband had died. She wasn’t the one who had to deal with the death of a loved one. Who would forever more have to think of that loved one in the past tense. Who would be reminded of that person on a daily basis by the most mundane things. The color of a car. A pair of pants. A photo. Those were the worst of all. She purposely didn’t carry a picture of

164

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

her mom and dad. It hurt too much. Still. Even though her dad had been dead for four years, her mother for two. “If there’s anything I can do to help—” “No.” She shot the words out quickly and sharply. “I’m fine. It’s Maria and her children you should be sorry for.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the tent and Bill’s relatives, who were in the midst of taking a seat. Someone had placed a bouquet of flowers on Bill’s casket. They reminded her of the ones she’d selected for her mother. Did funeral parlors across the world use the same florist? Or the same floral designer? “How are…things?” He smelled good. She’d missed that scent, she realized. “They’re going fine.” He glanced back at the tent, as if ensuring the services hadn’t started yet. “Do they have anyone in custody?” “Not yet.” “Motive?” She shook her head. He moved out from in front of her then, faced Maria and her family. “It’s just a damn shame. What kind of sick person kills another human being?” Callie had asked herself the same question a multitude of times. “And, of course, I’m sure it’s scared off a number of your drivers.” “It has.” She wanted to ask if he was one of them, but she was too chicken. If he dropped out of the XRL that was his own, personal choice; she would hear about is sooner or later. “And then you’ve got Veronica milking it for all it’s worth. I can barely pass a TV without spotting her on some show or another.” He was right. What was even creepier was the way Veronica had insisted tickets to their first race be put on sale that week. Callie had thought she was nuts. But the craziest thing of all was the way those tickets were selling. It was almost as if the American public hoped to see another exploding car when they launched the XRL. It made Callie sick. She’d wanted Veronica to cancel their first race, but her boss would hear nothing about it. “Where is she, by the way?” Derrick asked. “I would think playing the part of the sympathetic bystander would be right up her alley. I’m surprised she’s not here in a black hat and wearing widow’s weeds.” She almost laughed. Almost. Laughter was hard to come by these days. “She doesn’t like funerals.” Neither did Callie.

www.samhainpublishing.com

165

Pamela Britton

“You would think she could look past her personal dislikes to support the wife of one of her drivers.” “You would think,” Callie said, her eyes fixing on the tow-headed little boy standing next to Maria. William. That was the child’s name. He was clutching a teddy bear as if terrified it, too, would disappear forever from his life. Callie’s breath hitched in her chest. “It’s just a shame,” Derrick said again. “Thanks for coming,” Callie said, turning away before Derrick could see how close she was to losing control of her emotions. She knew exactly how that little boy felt. “Callie, wait.” She pulled up, but didn’t turn to face him. “I just wanted to say I’m here if you need me.” She gave him her profile; she worried about what he might see in her eyes. “Thank you. But I’ll be fine on my own.” She set off. He didn’t follow her. Thank God he didn’t follow her, Callie thought as she took position beneath a giant elm tree. Although if she were honest there was a part of her that wished he had followed. That he would stand by her side during the next hour. That he would hold her hand. Alas, she was all alone. Just how you wanted it. Yes, but she hadn’t expected to feel so, so…empty. God, she couldn’t believe how lonely she felt. Even the other drivers gave her a wide berth. As did the members of the XRL who’d shown up: Chet, Kathy, Jerry. They were all with their spouses or families, and for a moment—a brief instant—Callie longed to have a family of her own, but it was a fleeting moment of wistfulness. She was used to being alone. It didn’t hurt as much when people left you if you were alone. She straightened at the thought, wondering where it had come from, but then the pastor began the service and Callie forced herself to listen. Her eyes kept coming to rest on William though. On what it would be like for him to grow up without a father. She’d had her parents for the first twenty-five years. They’d had her late—too late by some people’s standards, and yet she’d been happy with them. This poor child, however, this little boy, he wouldn’t be so lucky—and she couldn’t get it out of her head that she was somehow to blame. It was almost a shock to realize the service was over. She watched as little William clung to his mother’s leg as the casket was lowered into the ground. Maria squatted down, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Callie’s heart broke. She had to turn away, almost left right then and there, but she hadn’t said a word to Maria and she knew she should. She owned her that much.

166

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

So she waited. It took awhile for people to clear. Derrick had wandered off as well—without even so much as a goodbye. That was as it should be, Callie thought, but it still hurt. “Mrs. Cavanaugh,” Callie called out as the last of the stragglers started to fade away. “Ms. Monroe,” the woman said. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I just wanted to say how sorry we all are.” The woman nodded. “Bill was a nice guy.” “The best,” she admitted with a weak smile down at her son. Callie followed her gaze. The little boy was still clutching his stuffed animal. “What’s his name?” Callie asked as she squatted down in front of the child. “Smoke,” the little boy answered. “As in Smokey the Bear?” “No.” He smirked. “Like the race car driver.” Callie almost laughed. There was, indeed, a stock car driver with the nickname. “My daddy says he was one of the best drivers out there.” “He is,” Callie said, the mention of Bill’s words a stab to Callie’s heart. She straightened suddenly. “Your daddy was a smart man.” She couldn’t look Maria in the eyes as she prepared to turn away. “Callie,” the woman called before she could take a step. She didn’t want to, but Callie forced herself to look into her eyes. Surely she spotted the tears that were there, Callie half surprised there weren’t answering tears in the woman’s own eyes. “I don’t blame you,” Maria said quickly. She didn’t? “I don’t know who did this to—” and there it was, a sudden gleam of moisture around the woman’s dusky lashes, “—Bill.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know why they did this, but I know it’s not your fault.” “Thank you,” Callie said. “No. Thank you,” the woman said. “Bill was happy. Excited about this new opportunity. The sport of racing needs the X-TREME Racing League. And you’re good at what you do.” She clasped Callie’s arm. “Bill told me just how good.” “Maria—” “No,” the woman said. “It’s okay.” She glanced down at her son. “We’ll be okay,” she added. “As long as we have each other.” Callie nodded, then watched as she walked away. As long as we have each other…

www.samhainpublishing.com

167

Pamela Britton

She had no idea why the words pierced her so deeply, except maybe she did. She didn’t have anybody.

168

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The show must go on. The words were a chant in Callie’s mind over the succeeding weeks. Christmas came and went. She spent it by herself. Derrick never called, not that she’d expected him to. She’d made it clear at Bill’s funeral she wanted to be left alone. Apparently, he’d received the message. Race day approached. They’d lost half their drivers. Crazily enough, for every driver they’d lost, a new one had signed on. It was unbelievable. Strange, and a little scary because the police were no closer to solving the murder than they’d been on the day it’d happened. And they’d sold out. Granted, they were racing at a small circle track in the southern United States, but Callie had still been amazed by the news. She had little time to think about it, however. Today she wore her Technical Inspector hat, meaning it was suddenly her job to examine the cars the various race teams had designed. She didn’t mind, though. She was curious what the race teams had come up with. Unlike other racing organizations,, the only thing she had to check for was that the engines were the correct size, the body styles were correct, and that all the safety features were in place—roll cage, crush zone, seatbelts—that sort of thing. They’d also scheduled things differently than other leagues. Instead of a three-day format, they would test and qualify on Saturday and race on Sunday, which meant a busy weekend. And hopefully no exploding cars. Still, she was apprehensive. They’d been asked to provide security, something that had seemed prudent, but would it help? Would someone find a way to sneak into their locked garages and plant more explosives? It seemed unimaginable, yet they couldn’t take a chance. So they cooperated with the police, all the while hoping for the best, but she knew the weekend would be stressful beyond imagining. She would see Derrick again. Or maybe not. He might change his mind at the last minute. She prayed he would. While she’d convinced herself she was over him, and that she’d done the right thing, not a day went by when she didn’t think about him. Didn’t think about Maria and her son. Didn’t think about Bill’s car erupting into a ball of flame. “Callie!” exclaimed a woman Callie couldn’t quite place. “Maybe you can tell me where Mike Miller is.”

Pamela Britton

“Diane,” she suddenly recalled. Derrick’s PR manager. The woman who’d taken her to Derrick’s motorcoach all those weeks ago. “Is Derrick here?” It was the world’s stupidest question. “Yeah.” The woman smiled as if sensing her thoughts. “He’s in the hauler. Have you seen his new hauler yet? You should. The thing’s stunning.” Here. Only a few hundred yards away. “Ah, no. I haven’t. And, um, Mike’s around here some place. Let me get him on the radio.” “Here” was inside one of two garages. Actually, they weren’t much more than long shed rows that faced each other. The Virginia race track wasn’t a top-of-the-line facility, but it would do for their purposes. Since it was only a one-mile track it left very little room for people in the infield. That suited their purposes just fine. The tighter the quarters, the easier it would be to keep an eye on the place. So far half of the teams scheduled to participate had arrived. There were tool boxes and cars and team members milling about. Mixed in were the private security guards they’d hired. “Mike?” Callie asked after pressing the call button. “Are you near the infield?” It took only a moment for Mike to respond. “I’m actually in a meeting with Veronica right now.” Well, that answered one question Callie had been curious about. Her boss had deserted her almost the moment they’d landed, not that Callie was complaining. “Mr. Derringer’s PR rep has some questions,” Callie said. “Tell her I’ll be back in that direction in an hour.” “An hour, hmm?” Diane said, pulling out her cell phone and tapping a key. “Okay. Yeah, I guess that’ll work. In the meantime why don’t you follow me back to the hauler and say hello to Derrick. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” “Oh…ahh. Well, I have a lot to do.” Around them people continued to set up for their practice session later that afternoon. Wrenches clinked and clanked. Cars were rolled into the shop. People spoke to one another. In the distance the motorcoach Veronica had insisted on buying—their headquarters for the XRL—gleamed beneath the afternoon sun. Two of the men they’d hired to be officials stood outside, chatting. Diane said nothing. Not at first. “Chicken,” she finally pronounced. “Excuse me?” She crossed her arms in front of her, swung a hip off to the side as her eyes raked her up and down. “I’ll be honest, Callie,” Diane said. “I was really looking forward to seeing you.” “Why’s that?” Callie asked. “So I could tell you to get your head out of your ass.” “Diane—”

170

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“No.” She held up a hand. “Don’t say a word. You’ve tossed aside a good man because, why?” she asked. “You don’t think getting involved with a driver is a smart idea? That’s the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard because Derrick isn’t like most drivers. And believe me. I know all the asshole drivers out there. Derrick isn’t one of them. He’s the best boss I’ve ever had, and the kindest man I know. But then he said you were freaked out about having kids.” “I’m not freaked out, I just don’t want kids.” “And he’d be fine with that, he really would. You’re the one who seems to think it’s a deal breaker.” “Isn’t it?” “You tell me, Callie.” She couldn’t tell her anything. “You know for sure Derrick doesn’t mind the fact that I don’t want kids?” “I don’t think he’d care if you wanted twenty pink elephants.” She took a step toward her. “The man loves you, Callie. That much I do know.” With the words hanging in the air, she turned around. Callie watching her walk away. She would have bet Derrick had moved on by now. He loves you. Okay, so maybe he did, she thought. Would it be enough though? “Excuse me,” someone said. Callie started. A man pushing a tool box peered around the edge of the massive red box. “Oh, sorry.” She lifted a hand in acknowledgement. It was a member of Shane Houser’s team, his yellow and red colors as obnoxious as the man himself. Callie stepped out of the way, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Okay, so Derrick still loved her. He wasn’t out partying it up with a big-busted cheerleader—as she’d imagined. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the fact that she didn’t want children. “Excuse me,” the man said again. When Callie met his gaze he was shooting her a look of impatience. Whatever, she thought, stepping back as the man opened up a drawer on the side of the toolbox. She wasn’t really curious about what was inside. Honestly, she was too busy with her thoughts to pay much attention. That’s probably why she didn’t see them right away. Nails. Flat-headed, black nails. Like the one they’d found in Shane’s tire. She took a step back, locked eyes with the mechanic when he glanced over at her. “Sorry,” she repeated, moving away. Her heart had started to pound. Why? It wasn’t like those nails were exclusive to the Shane Houser team.

www.samhainpublishing.com

171

Pamela Britton

Yes, but what were they doing in a tool box? She started walking, hoping it would help to clear her head. So there were strange, flat-headed nails in the Shane Houser toolbox. It didn’t prove anything. She shot another look at the mechanic again. He was tall. Lean. She’d seen someone like that at the track. No. Not actually at the track. On the road outside of the track. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Callie blinked, stunned to be face-to-face with Derrick. But what shocked her the most was how much she wanted to run into his arms. She actually rocked forward for a moment. “Derrick,” She said softly. “Is seeing me such a shock?” he asked, concern on his face—on his handsome, caring face. She looked down at the ground, at her toes, so completely overcome by emotion it was all she could do to look him in the eyes again. Get a hold of yourself, Callie. She took a deep breath, which might be why her next words came out in a rush. “I think I know who sabotaged Bill’s car.” His brown eyes widened. “Who?” “That guy over there. By Shane’s tool box.” She caught the scent of him again. Damn it. She’d forgotten how good he smelled. “What?” He paused for a moment, turned toward the man in question, a black-headed kid with an ego as big as Shane’s. She let him take a quick glance before pulling him around. “I think I passed him in my car the night before Bill’s car exploded.” “Are you sure?” “No, I’m not sure. But I spotted some nails, Derrick. The same kind of nail we found in Shane’s tire.” “Wait,” he said, stopping again and glancing back at the guy. He looked so good standing there in his light-blue shirt. A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead. She had to fight the urge to swipe it from his eyes. “Are you inferring Shane might have sabotaged his own car?” “No.” She shook her head. “Remember. You were supposed to drive that car.” “Yeah, but if he knew his car was rigged, why would he drive it so hard?” “Maybe he didn’t know,” she said. “Maybe he’s not the one behind it all.” “Then who?” “Someone else on his team. Someone close to him.” “Such as?” he asked. “His dad.”

172

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Derrick’s brow swooped up. Everyone on the circuit knew Shane’s dad was an ass. Overbearing. Loud. Rude. “I don’t know,” Derrick murmured softly. “I can’t imagine someone on Shane’s team doing such a thing.” “I can. They all want to get to the top—however they have to do it.” “Maybe.” She let her words sink in for a moment. “If he is the one, we need to tell our head of security. Someone needs to keep an eye on him.” “Crap, Callie. He’s been here all morning. If it is him,” he said, glancing over his shoulder again, “he might have already done something.” “Quit looking at him,” she hissed. “He looks familiar.” He squinted. “I think I’ve seen him around the circuit before.” “Have you seen him around Shane’s dad?” “No.” He frowned. “But, remember, I don’t race with Shane.” “But what if it is him?” His eyes darted over her face, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his expression softened. “I don’t think we can rule out anybody at this point.” She nodded. “That’s what I thought.” “So let’s go then.” “Go where?” she asked. “Let’s go talk to the head of security.” She was so grateful for his support, even more so when they located Alex Ross standing outside the garage. He was a veteran police officer, someone who’d come highly recommended, but he had cop stamped all over him. Short gray hair. Steady eyes. Calm demeanor. She explained what she’d seen, both in the tool box and on that long ago night. Derrick relayed what he’d heard about Shane’s team—how cutthroat they were, known for cheating. Honestly, Callie was surprised they hadn’t thought of Shane’s team before. Then again, they’d immediately discounted him because he’d been a victim as well. “I’ll have my guys keep a close eye on him,” Alex said. He was an older man with silver hair and light-blue eyes, and Callie could tell he’d taken them seriously. “Thanks,” Callie said, relieved he hadn’t laughed her off the race track. “Are you racing tomorrow, Mr. Derringer?” Alex asked. “I am.” She’d known that would be his response. Still, her heart jumped before quickly plummeting to her toes. She didn’t want him to drive. She wanted him to withdraw. To stay away from potential trouble. “Well, I’m a really big fan,” Alex said. “And I’m going to do my best to keep you safe.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

173

Pamela Britton

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Alex nodded to her before turning away. He was going to call a meeting with his guys. Callie hoped it wasn’t too late. Just as Derrick said, Shane’s crew had had access to the garage all morning. “You look tired,” he said softly. “It’s the sun,” she instantly contradicted. “The sun’s bright out here.” “We could go to my hauler.” Her gaze flew toward him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “No?” he asked, giving her a crooked smile. “No.” “Still attracted to me?” “No,” she answered instantly. “Liar,” he said, smiling. Yes, she was. Damn it. She was starting to realize it was futile to fight it. She was attracted to him in a way that turned her world upside down. That she’d never felt before. That she knew was unique and special and hard to find. “I better go,” It was all she could do to get the words out. Coward. “Take care of yourself tomorrow, Derrick.” “I will.” Then he startled her by reaching out and stroking her cheek. “You too, Callie.” There was such sadness in his eyes, such longing, it damn near made her cry. He turned away before she could say another word. Callie let him go, but she couldn’t stop the word that erupted from her mouth. “Damn.”

174

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Twenty-Nine

They kept a close watch on Shane’s team—to no avail. Race day dawned with nobody in custody and Callie’s nerves stretched as taut as a spider’s web. Sure, there was a chance nothing would happen, but Callie didn’t think they’d be that lucky. A tension hung in the air. It made her heart beat faster and her palms to sweat. Mixed in with her fear was an elation she couldn’t deny. It was real. XRL would race today. Her league. Her baby. Her dream. “Isn’t this great?” Veronica said when they were an hour away from the start of the race. It was like a circus. Colorful cars were parked along pit road. Camera crews in various locations (their race would be broadcast on a cable sports network live, a major coup on Mike Miller’s part). “Look at all the people.” That was the most surprising of all. The grandstands were packed. Granted, they weren’t as large as the big leagues, but it was a start. They’d begun to arrive yesterday, many of them in RVs. Scores of them. “They’re hoping to see someone die,” she heard herself say. “Callie!” Veronica exclaimed. “What a thing to say.” “It’s true,” Callie said, and it was. It’d been one of the selling points of the XRL. Wild and raucous racing. Fast cars and no-holds barred racing. Only one problem. There was a killer on the loose. “You’re just being a fuddy-dud,” Veronica said. Her boss was in full-on Queen Bee of the Universe mode, right down to her attire. She wore sequins. Who wore green sequins on race day? Her shirt sparkled like a Las Vegas ball room. Her makeup was a bit over the top. Too dark. As if she expected to spend a lot of time on camera, which she did. Veronica had appointed herself official spokesperson of the XRL. That suited Callie fine. She didn’t mind having to wear the company colors, either—black and white, the color of winners! (According to Veronica.) She actually liked the white shirt with the black sides that matched her black jeans. Still, she preferred to stay behind the scenes—searching for a killer. “Have you seen Derrick?” her boss asked. They stood near the pit stall of one of the race teams, Callie abashed to realize it was Derrick’s. “We were hoping to interview him since he was our fastest qualifier yesterday.” “I have no idea,” Callie said, though she still felt a rush of pleasure it’d been Derrick who’d kicked everyone’s butt at their first qualifying session.

Pamela Britton

Her boss must have seen the joy in Callie’s eyes because her own gaze narrowed which, given her dark makeup, made her look less like a sultry vixen and more like a raccoon. “So it really is over between the two of you?” “It would appear so.” “Because I know you were with him in California,” Veronica said, wrinkling her nose and flicking her hair around as if she smelled something foul. “Jerry told me.” She’d suspected Jerry had. That accounted for the anger she’d seen in Veronica’s eyes all those weeks ago. “That was a mistake.” Liar. “So you’re not nervous about him racing today?” She was terrified. Beyond freaked out. Worried sick. She felt like sabotaging his car herself so he couldn’t even make it out onto the track. “I’m fine.” Veronica stared down at her, hard. Callie realized the green sequins had been picked because they matched the exact shade of her eyes. “Glad to hear it,” Veronica said with—good Lord—a genuine smile. “We’re all allowed one last fling.” She looked behind her, her smile getting bigger. “Ooops. Gotta go. Mike’s motioning for me to join him.” Off she went. Callie found herself moving away as well, her eyes scanning, and then scanning the faces of the people who swarmed around her—mostly crew members and their family…for what? She didn’t know what she was looking for. She needed to do something. To keep Derrick safe. “You look stressed.” She drew up short because she recognized the voice even though she hadn’t seen him approach. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the race?” she asked, bracing herself as she turned to face him. He’d found her on pit lane, the X-TREME Machines lined up and ready to go, their colorful paint jobs glittering in the afternoon sun. “What’s there to do but climb in the car?” he asked, his teeth flashing as he glanced at his red and white vehicle. “Wince when you turn the car on, you know, in the event it might blow up.” He laughed. It wasn’t the reaction she expected. She was terrified on his behalf. How could he not be equally frightened? “Don’t worry. I had the boys install a remote start.” “You didn’t.” He laughed again. “Relax, Callie. The bomb sniffing dogs have done their job. Alex is confident there are no explosives in the infield. And my car hasn’t been out of my sight all weekend. It’ll be okay.”

176

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

Those dogs were still in use, walking up and down pit road with a man in blue following close behind. She’d wanted the canines to do their job before the fans started to arrive, but Veronica had thought they made for good photo ops. Photo ops. “It’s not just you I’m worried about,” she confessed. “What?” he asked, but his eyes were teasing. “Is there someone else in your life?” “You know the answer to that.” He was in his firesuit, a vivid reminder of what he was about to do. “Good,” he said equally softly. The words broke free as if torn from her heart. She couldn’t hold them back anymore, didn’t even want to try. “I love you, Derrick,” she confessed. “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” He stared at her incredulously for a moment, but then a smile broke free. He scooted up next to her, the grin on his face growing so big it almost made her mad. How could he be grinning at a time like this? “I love you too, Callie Monroe. I couldn’t climb into my race car without telling you that. And without insisting you marry me the minute this race is over.” “Marry you!” she exclaimed. He clasped her face between his hands. Her hair was pulled back, but she had a feeling if it’d been loose he have done what she’d wanted to do earlier—swipe it behind her ears. Instead he cupped her gently. Not hard, but enough to silence her. “Quiet,” he soothed. “We’ll work it out. If you don’t want kids, fine. We can get a dog. Or two. Or three. Whatever. I. Don’t. Care.” He leaned in close to her. “All I want is you.” She felt tears warm her lashes. “Oh, Derrick.” “Marry me?” he asked. Well, okay, it was more like an order. She knew she should tell him no. Knew she should wait until after the race to give him an answer. Knew it was her fear of losing him that had her saying, “Okay.” When she spotted the joy on his face, she knew she’d made the right decision. “That’s my girl,” he said, kissing her right there in front of God and everybody. “Finally,” someone said. “I swear, Callie, if you’d said no, I was going to smack you.” It was Diane, and she was smiling. “Derrick. I hate to break this up, but you need to get to your car.” He didn’t immediately let her go. He was still staring into her eyes, Callie’s spirits soaring at the look in his eyes. He loved her. Positively, absolutely loved her. She could see it there in his brown gaze, the sight of it filling her with a peace she wouldn’t have thought possible given the circumstances. “Good luck.” “Don’t need luck. Gonna win this one for you, Callie.” He let her go, Callie taking a sudden step backwards as if she’d been released for the force of a magnet.

www.samhainpublishing.com

177

Pamela Britton

“He’s going to be okay, you know. We’ve watched his car like a hawk. Nobody’s tampered with it.” “I know.” “Then stop looking so terrified.” She stared into Diane’s eyes. “I am terrified.” “C’mon,” Diane said. “Let’s get you set up in our pit stall. Unless you need to be somewhere else?” “No, no,” Callie said. She didn’t want to stay seated. She wanted to observe. Still, how do you not watch the start of a race? Especially one you’d organized? One with the man of your dreams leading the pack? You watched. And while this wasn’t the grand production of a major race, it was still exciting to hear the call for the drivers to start their engines. Fortunately every one of those cars started without a major explosion, Callie not realizing how keyed up she’d been until the major hurdle was in the past. She could have sworn some of the crowd booed, but the rest of them cheered wildly as the cars started to roll forward. Her heartpounded as the pace car took to the track. The only thing that stuck in her craw was Veronica waving the green flag. Callie had wanted someone from the armed forces to do it, but her boss had insisted and so Callie found herself looking away in disgust. That’s when she spotted him. Everyone else had their eyes forward—even the police officers they’d hired—but not Callie. She was in the perfect position to spy the man with the tire. Although perhaps that wasn’t true. Perhaps a security officer was watching their bad guy, whose name she learned was Charlie. But what Charlie had just done was so innocuous. Commonplace. Even mundane. He was stacking tires for his team to use. Only he placed them in the wrong pit stall. Was it a mistake? Around her she heard the sound of car engines. They were picking up speed, the roar getting louder and louder. Callie waited to see if Charlie would move the tires back to his own pit. He’d set them down right next to his own pit stall and so he might not have noticed the mistake. Or maybe it wasn’t a mistake. She decided to investigate. Nothing too obvious. Just a stroll down pit road. Nobody even noticed her leaving. She smiled at the crew members who were becoming familiar now. Nodded to one of the security guards standing by Shane’s pit stall. She tried to appear nonchalant as she paused by the stack of tires. They looked…normal. Nothing sticking into the rubber. No under-inflated tires. Of course, wheels were stacked one on top of the other and so she couldn’t see the rims. She pondered what to do, but in the end her gut told her something wasn’t right, especially when she caught Charlie staring at her in question. He leaned against a smaller version of the toolbox he’d been pushing around yesterday, his eyes raking her up and

178

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

down. It was the look he gave her that sealed it. He was trying to scare her away. Or maybe intimidate her into leaving. Either/or. She didn’t like it. “Hey,” she called out to the nearest security guard. “We’re going to impound these tires.” She’d met all the security guards the day before and so the man didn’t question her. “And I also want to talk to Charlie.” “Which one is he?” the guard asked. She pointed in the man’s direction. “That one there. The black-haired kid in Shane’s pit stall. I watched him put these tires here—” she patted them, “—in the wrong pit.” “Got it,” the security office said. She watched as the man headed toward Charlie. Words were exchanged. Someone from Shane’s team very obviously came to Charlie’s defense and before Callie knew it, she had a screaming match on her hands. Callie tried to intercede. One of the television cameras pointed in their direction. Callie didn’t care. She had a hunch. Something was wrong with those tires. She didn’t know what it was, but she would bet he’d done something to them. She told Alex that very thing when he arrived. “Search him,” Alex ordered. “What!” Charlie yelled. Callie noticed then he had a tattoo on his arm. She could just make it out beneath the sleeve of his yellow and black work shirt. “You don’t have the right to do that.” “Oh, yes, we do,” Alex said nonchalantly. He nodded to one of his officers. “Search him.” “No,” Charlie said, stepping back. “What’s going on here?” It was Shane’s crew chief, the man having climbed down from the toolbox his crew used on race day. “You can’t harass my team while we’re racing.” “We’re not harassing anyone,” Alex shot. “Search him.” “I want a lawyer.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Charlie ran. Everyone was so stunned nobody moved. Callie was the first to charge after him. It wasn’t long before someone passed her, Callie slowed down. What the hell was Charlie thinking? It wasn’t like he could go far. There was a race going on. He couldn’t cross the track, and the garage was so small. She watched as he ducked left, and when he did, something fell from his pocket…or had he dumped it? Nobody had seen the object fall to the ground; everyone was too busy chasing him. Breaking into a walk, Callie searched the ground for the object, leaving the men to catch up with Charlie and apprehend him. “What is it?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

179

Pamela Britton

She glanced at Alex. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the only one onto him. “There it is.” She scooped the thing up. At first she was almost disappointed. It was a tire gauge. Actually, it wasn’t a tire gauge. It was something different. “What is that?” Alex asked. “Looks like an attachment to an air hose.” Alex took the thing from her. “Looks like an adapter.” “Yeah, but to what?” Alex was frowning. The cars roared by. Callie glanced up. Derrick was still in the lead. Her heart soared for a moment. “Wait a minute,” Alex said. “I’ve seen this kind of attachment before.” “Where?” Callie asked. “On my barbeque.” “What?” The look on Alex’s face was the same one people got when they’d had a revelation. “I think I know what he did.” “What?” Callie asked. “He used propane to fill the tires.” “Propane? But that’s—” “Combustible.”

180

www.samhainpublishing.com

Chapter Thirty

Callie couldn’t believe it was over. Letting the air out of one of the tires was all it took. Everyone in the vicinity could smell the acrid stench of natural gas. “That’s it,” Alex said with a grin. “I don’t know how that got in there,” Charlie said when he was brought back to Shane’s pit. “Sure you don’t,” Callie said. “You can’t arrest me,” Charles said to Alex. “You’re not even a real cop.” “You’re right, but I bet you I know someone who can arrest you. Someone who’ll be interested in talking to you about what happened in California.” Sam Mathers. That’s who Alex referred to. “And I do have the authority to hold you for questioning.” “This is ridiculous,” Charlie said. “Do you have someplace where we can hold him?” “Inside the XRL motorcoach,” Callie said. “There’s an office in there.” “Perfect,” Alex said, motioning for one of his officers to take Charlie there. “But I didn’t do anything,” he still insisted. “What’s going on?” Callie half-glanced at Veronica. “We’re taking Charlie here into custody.” “Why?” Veronica asked, glancing around the assorted faces. How she’d gotten to the infield when there was a race going on was anybody’s guess. Callie glanced out on the track and noticed there was a caution. Her gaze immediately went to the front of the field, her shoulders relaxing when she spotted Derrick’s blue and white car at the front…still. “We found a device on him that suggests he filled some tires with propane.” “Why ever would he do that?” Veronica asked. “So they would explode,” Callie said. “Is that possible?” Veronica asked Alex. “It’s possible,” Alex said. “Tires get hot, especially on smaller tracks. Add in some white-hot brake pads and anything is possible.” Callie had to admit, Veronica played the part of the outraged heroine to a T. Okay, okay, so maybe that wasn’t a nice thought, but she couldn’t help but think Veronica would milk this for all it’s worth.

Pamela Britton

“I’m out of here,” Callie said, turning away. “Alex, thanks for your help. Call me if you need me.” She turned to her boss. “Veronica, as of this day forward, I’m on a vacation.” “Excuse me?” Veronica asked. Callie glanced toward pit road again. Derrick was about to come in. “No, excuse me. I need to root on my future husband.” She walked away without a backward glance. “Callie,” Veronica called. Callie ignored her, heart pumping, but not in fear of Veronica. Oh, no. Her heart thudded because she knew without a doubt she was making the right decision. “You can’t just take off like that,” Veronica called. “Yes,” Callie replied. “I can.” Somehow she managed to get in front of her, Veronica holding out a hand. “If you do I’ll fire you.” “Fine,” Callie said, stepping around her. “No problem.” “Callie!” Veronica yelled, and she was near enough to Derrick’s pit everyone turned and stared. Well, that wasn’t true, Diane smirked. “I mean it, I’ll fire you. I can’t have you getting involved with one of our drivers.” That prompted Callie to turn on her heel, but she kept walking backward. “Then I guess you’ll have to fire me.” “Callie,” Veronica yelled again, but this time her tone was pleading. “Please don’t do this.” Callie was curious enough to stop. “Why, Veronica?” She would have to give Veronica credit. The woman looked panicked. Maybe she wasn’t as dumb as Callie thought. “I need you.” “Yes,” Callie said. “You do. But I’m getting married.” She couldn’t contain the grin spreading across her face. “And I refuse to work the hours I’ve been keeping. So if you don’t fire me, Veronica, that means you agree to keep me on…part-time.” “No.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Impossible.” The cars were starting to come down pit road. Callie could hear them. “Then I guess we’re through.” She took off for Derrick’s pit, running. She wanted to be there for him. Wanted him to see her. To see her happiness. She made it just in the nick of time, Callie trying to stand back and out of his pit crew’s way as they changed his tires and adjusted his car. Even though it was hard for him to turn his head with a helmet on, he managed to do so. Callie’s smile was brilliant. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he might have smiled back. “Want a headset?” Diane asked as he burned rubber down pit road. “Sure,” Callie said, but before she could slip the thing on, someone tapped on her shoulder.

182

www.samhainpublishing.com

Burning Rubber

“Part-time,” Veronica said. “But I’ll need you here on race day.” “Fine,” Callie said. “As you can see, I’ll be at the track on race weekends, anyway.” To give Veronica credit, she seemed more concerned than angry. “Are you sure you’d doing the right thing?” Callie nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” And when Derrick pulled into the winner’s circle later that afternoon, Callie knew she’d made the right choice. The first thing Derrick did after he climbed out of his car was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. “See,” he teased, “told you I wouldn’t die.” She snuggled into his arms. “I love you, Derrick Derringer.” “I know.” “And I’m never leaving your side.” “What about work?” he asked, drawing back. “I’m going to telecommute,” she explained with a smile. “Of course, Veronica doesn’t know that yet, but she’ll find out soon enough.” His smile must have been as brilliant as her own. “That’s my girl,” he told her softly. She was his girl. For now, forever and for always.

www.samhainpublishing.com

183

Epilogue

The network studio was a silent as a tomb. “We’re live in five, four…” The intern who held a hand up to the broadcaster sitting across from Derrick went silent, his fingers counting down the seconds. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” said the gray-haired host. “Welcome to Race Talk. I’m Chance McLennen. Tonight we have stock car racing legend Derrick Derringer in the studio with us. Some might call Derrick a renegade with his recent defection to the X-TREME Racing League. Tell me, Derrick, whatever made you decide to leave a successful racing career to compete in what is effectively a start-up organization?” Callie watched from behind a group of production as Derrick smiled. “First of all, I haven’t left stock car racing. Let’s get that clear.” He gave the host an equally patronizing smile. “I still manage to drive fulltime for Hooligan Racing.” The talk show host nodded. “For now.” “For now,” Derrick echoed back. “But that might change next year?” “Maybe.” Derrick shifted a bit in his black leather chair. The whole set was done in black, Callie suspected because it complimented the host’s silvery good looks. “Maybe not.” “But you like racing for the XLR?” Derrick glanced over at her, although Callie doubted he could see her beyond the lights used on set. “I like racing. Period.” “So tell me about the XLR. Any worries you might get blown up?” Callie winced. If anything, Derrick’s smile grew. “None whatsoever. But it’s still early yet.” Chance shifted some papers, pretending to look for data, although Callie was certain the man had Derrick’s statistics memorized. “You’ve only run, what? Three races according to my record.” “That’s correct,” Derrick said. “The fourth is this weekend.” “Yet despite police taking a suspect into custody, security is still heightened at each race.” Veronica. They had her to thank for that. She insisted the presence of security guards would keep the XLR in the headlines. Unfortunately, that’d proven true.

Burning Rubber

“It’s just a precaution.” Chance didn’t say anything for a moment—a single second that felt like eternity on live television. “What if I told you I’ve spoken with the man accused of sabotaging the X-TREME Racing League and that he claims he didn’t act alone.” Callie’s shoulders tensed. Derrick remained unfazed. “We already knew there was someone else. The father of one of my fellow drivers—” “No.” Chance gave a sharp jerk of his head. “He claims this has nothing to do with Shane Houser.” Callie couldn’t believe her ears. “It’s a lie,” Derrick said. Yes, a lie. Like most criminals, Charlie Coldwell would sell his own soul if it meant a potential deal with law enforcement. “He claims what he told me will be proven at the next race.” “Bull,” Derrick threw back. “The only thing that’s guaranteed is my winning the next XRL race.” “You’re certain of that?” “Absolutely.” The sportscaster must have realized Derrick wouldn’t budge. “Let’s talk about your winning streak…” The words seemed to fade into the background. Was it possible? Could there be someone else on the inside trying to harm the XRL. What did that mean for Derrick? “He’s just dramatizing the whole thing,” someone hissed. Callie gulped, hand over her heart. “Diane,” she whispered back. “You scared me half to death.” Derrick’s PR rep gave her a smile, eyes alight with friendliness. “I saw the look on your face.” Diane glanced at Derrick, her words barely audible. “But you don’t need to worry. Chance is just trying to improve ratings.” A breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding rushed out of her. “You think?” “I’m certain.” Diane patted her on the back. “Charlie Coldwell is going away for a long time. No worries.” What would she do without Diane? A voice of reason amidst the chaos of her life. The XRL had gained momentum in the previous two months. More and more race fans were showing up to watch the drivers compete. Diane had helped Callie to juggle it all: the constant pressure, Callie’s move to North Carolina…Veronica. “Thanks, Diane.” Callie squeezed her arm gently, the woman’s tall frame accentuated by the tailored gray suit she wore. “You’re welcome.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

185

Pamela Britton

In front of the cameras, Derrick was smiling at something Chance had said. “Yes, it’s definitely safe to say I’m off the market.” Once again, Derrick seemed to find her eyes, the smile he gave her full of tenderness. This time, it was Diane who patted her arm. “See. Nothing to worry about.” “So it’s official then,” the sportscaster asked. “You’re engaged.” Callie glanced down at her hand, the four-carat ring on her finger catching the light. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Yes, it’d been chaotic. Yes, it would continue to be crazy, but she wouldn’t change a thing. “I am,” Derrick was saying. “Finally going to settle down, huh?” Chance teased. “Yup.” “And your future bride is Vice President of Development for the X-TREME Racing League?” “She is, and she also conceived the idea for the X-TREME league. She’s brilliant.” Callie’s whole body swelled with pride. “There you go, folks,” Chance said with a wide smile. “Derrick Derringer is off the market and coming to a local track near you. Derrick, thanks for coming here today…” Less than two minutes later, Derrick was by her side. “Well?” he asked the two women in his life. “You did great,” Diane said. “Terrific,” Callie agreed, happy to sink into his arms. “It’s true you know.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “You are brilliant.” “So are you,” she said, leaning back. “Okay, you two, that’s enough.” “No,” Derrick contradicted. “It’s not nearly enough.” He kissed her. Callie let him. She didn’t care that Diane watched. That studio personnel darted around them. That off to the side a few Derrick Derringer fans waited for an autograph. All she cared about was the man in her arms. The man she loved. He drew back, tweaked her nose, smiled at Diane. “Let’s do it. Let’s put the tires to the tar and burn some rubber.” He clutched Callie’s hand, her engagement ring once again catching the light She could do anything as long as she held that hand. Anything. Maybe even burn rubber.

186

www.samhainpublishing.com

About the Author

With over a million books in print, Pamela Britton likes to call herself the best known author nobody’s ever heard of. Of course, that’s begun to change thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR. Nowadays it’s not unusual to hear her books being discussed by the likes of Jay Leno, Keith Olbermann or Stephen Colbert. Flip open a magazine and you might read about her, too, in Sports Illustrated, Entertainment Weekly or Southwest Airlines’ Spirit Magazine. But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by The Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT BOOKclub Magazine. She’s won numerous writing awards, including the National Reader’s Choice Award, and a nomination for Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart. When not creating stories for her readers, Pamela works as a reporter for a local newspaper. She’s also an award-winning columnist for the American Quarter Horse Journal. She lives on a ranch in Northern California with her husband, daughter and, at last count, twenty-one four-legged friends. If you'd like to chat with Pamela you can find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/pamelabritton or at www.pamelabritton.com.

Look for these titles by Pamela Britton

Now Available: X-TREME Racing Playboy Prankster

Coming Soon: Books 3 and 4 in the X-TREME Racing Series

From zero to sixty in a heartbeat—if she doesn’t throttle him first.

Playboy Prankster © 2010 Pamela Britton Extreme Racing, Book 1 When CJ Randall arrives in Nevada to cover the Celebrity Pro/Am Off Road Rally for DRIVE Magazine, she’s already stuck between a cactus and a hard place. Her boss has made it clear if this article doesn’t measure up, her job is wrecked. Then she gets a look at the “pro” half of her “am”: Tan. Rich. Overconfident. Unsuitable. Bachelor. Lacking. Ethics. T.R.O.U.B.L.E. She’s sworn off tall, dark and handsome men. Too bad the desert heat is making her hyperventilate like a hormone-crazed teenager. Despite her makeup-free face and ready-to-go attitude—a far cry from the high-maintenance women he’s used to—Bryce Danvers doesn’t expect CJ to last an hour. To his surprise, she toughs out the entire day. The least he can do is show his appreciation with some fast food and a friendly kiss. The instant their lips connect, warning klaxons go off in CJ’s head. He’s a taste of heaven she can’t afford to sample again. Bryce finds himself wanting to give her generous curves a bumper-to-bumper inspection. And his focus on the checkered flag shot all to hell. Warning: If you like your stories PG-13, this is not the book for you. If you like Boy Scout race car drivers with clean-cut reputations, you should pass. And if you like to breathe while reading, steer clear. Love, laughter and hot, hot, hot sex scenes will leave you gasping for air.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Playboy Prankster: “Ohmigosh,” she screeched, her hand on the handle of the bathroom door and staring at Bryce in disbelief. She glanced down at the towel barely covering her private parts and darted back into the bathroom. “Bryce Danvers, you creep, how the heck did you get in my room?” “You left your window open. I stuck my hand in and unlocked the door.” She felt her mouth flop open, then closed it, then opened it again. She couldn’t believe he was telling the truth, had to resist the urge to call him a liar. “Well, you can just walk right back out.” She clutched the towel around her more firmly, closing the bathroom door until there was just a crack to peek out and hoping upon hope that she was suffering a Dramamine induced hallucination and not facing the reality of Bryce Danvers in her hotel room. “Ah, honey, you don’t really want me to leave, do you?” he drawled in his mint julep voice. “Don’t you call me honey, you…you pervert,” she opened the door a bit more. “What’s the matter, the woman in pink lose your room number?”

“Who?” “Never mind. Get out of here before I call security.” “CJ, this place doesn’t have security.” “How do you know?” “’Cause I caught a look at the guy at the front desk. The closest that man had come to security is the maximum security kind.” He must mean that god-awful man at the registration desk, the one with more ink tattooed on his arms than a printing press. “Well, then I’ll call the police.” “You’ll have to come out here to use the phone.” “That won’t be a problem since you’re leaving.” “Why? Are you afraid I’m going to bite?” “I’d need a rabies shot if you did.” He groaned. “Ooo, a low blow.” She didn’t say anything. Trouble, she reminded herself. “And to think, I was going to ask you out to dinner.” “Sorry. I have other plans tonight.” “What plans?” “None of your business.” She heard a rustling sound and stiffened. “Don’t you come near me, Bryce Danvers.” Silence. “Bryce?” she called warily. Maybe he was leaving. She opened the door another notch. Nothing. She peeked her head out the door. “Boo.” She jumped. The brat stood right by the door frame wearing a white polo shirt and tan slacks, looking entirely too good for her peace of mind. “You…You…” She hissed, all the while trying not to gawk. Bryce, without his firesuit, was a sight to behold. The shirt clung to his muscular frame, the white contrasting with his tan and making his eyes stand out even more. She clutched the towel around her more firmly. “Are those bruises on your shoulder?” She looked down, startled out of her salivating. Bruises? What bruises? He walked forward and CJ tensed. Oh gosh, this was bad. This was really, really bad. He smelled like that forest again, and she was in a towel, and he was…oh goodness, he was touching her. Gently, softly touching her shoulder. She closed her eyes, her body thrumming like a guitar string. “Did the harness give you those?”

She nodded, still not trusting herself to look up at him. If she did, she might drop the towel and offer herself to him like Aphrodite on the altar of love. “Where else are you bruised?” “It feels like everywhere I have skin.” “Can I see?” She looked up at him, there was a look concern on his face. CJ squelched the stab of disappointment that it wasn’t burning, uncontrollable lust. “C’mon, I promise not to hurt you.” That was what all men said, but she lowered the towel anyway, not a lot, just so he could check it out, the feel of his eyes on her more erotic than the feel of his fingers. “You’re black and blue.” Was she? She almost closed her eyes, but the look in his eyes wouldn’t allow her. There was so much tenderness in his gaze, so much genuine concern her heart instantly forgave him for not tossing her over his shoulder, throwing her on the bed, and having his wicked way with her. “Why didn’t you tell me the belts hurt you?” Because she hadn’t cared. Because with him sharing the same airspace as her she was hard pressed to notice much of anything. “Because I didn’t think it mattered.” His blue eyes narrowed, such pretty blue eyes, so mesmerizing. “Not matter? Of course it matters.” Oh, gracious, she didn’t think she could take much more of being near him. Her body had begun to warm. Places that had no business getting excited suddenly cried out for a little action. And when his finger reached out to touch her again, when she noticed that his eyes had never left her own, the realization that he wanted to kiss her hit her with the force of a club. “Bryce?” she murmured, unsure, hardly daring to hope that she read his expression correctly. “Yes,” he answered. But she wasn’t mistaken. He did want to kiss her. She could tell. Never mind that her common sense demanded a reason as to why he was suddenly interested in her. Common sense be damned. “Bryce,” she said a second time, and was it her imagination, or did she hear a pleading tone to her voice. Pleading, definitely pleading, because he’d begun to dip his head. Her ears began to ring. “Don’t get it,” he mumbled. “Don’t get what?” she whispered, her eyes on his lips, those wonderful, sensual lips. The ringing grew loud. Ringing?

It was the phone. Darn, darn, darn. Miles-the-editor-from-Hell. What rotten luck. Or was it? She stiffened, suddenly admitting what she’d been about to do, and with whom. Reality came crashing down. Obviously, pickings were slim out in the desert. Why else would Bryce Danvers, the man who could have absolutely anybody, show up on her doorstep? “CJ—” Bryce begged. She clutched the towel around her like it was the jacket to her black interview power suit and looked up at him, and for the first time in her life she knew what it meant to get lost in someone’s eyes. Never again would she scoff at the silly romantic term. She could feel herself drowning in Bryce, but the jangling of the phone was a persistent reminder of what she was here to accomplish…and it wasn’t a night of wild passion.

Redefining room service…

Suite 69 © 2011 S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly The Zephyre Corporation’s annual convention may be designed to let colleagues kick back in the Florida sun, but Riley McGuire doesn’t plan to let anything interfere with her chance to shine for corporate management. Not even the devastatingly sexy guy playing air guitar—naked—in her hotel suite. Oliver Wilson expected to share a deluxe suite with what he assumed was an amiable Irish-American beer drinker, not an acid-tongued Boston beauty who can’t hold her liquor. Their agreement to muddle through is shot to hell by a tug of attraction that, in the convention’s decadent atmosphere, grows too strong to resist. Oliver discovers there’s more going on under Riley’s suits than good marketing ideas. And Oliver’s gentlemanly teasing gets under Riley’s skin…in a sexy way. Behind closed doors, lust explodes between the sheets. But is a pair of vibrating panties a temporary pleasure, or the start of something that doesn’t require batteries? Warning: Please check with your hotel concierge to ask if the handsome naked man playing air guitar comes with the room. There may be an extra surcharge not covered under federal business reimbursement regulations. Be sure to tip the bellboy.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Suite 69: The elevator ride was a brief, nightmarish interruption in Oliver’s plans. He found himself clenching his teeth in an effort to keep his hands off Riley while the car rose to their floor. The presence of five other people made it an utter necessity, but it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His mind was overflowing with images of what he wanted to do when he had her alone and the knowledge of what she’d slipped into his pocket. She was holding the key card as soon as the doors slid apart, and the two of them hurried down the passageway, only to curse as her fingers fumbled when she tried to unlock their room. Finally they were inside, reaching for each other even before the thud of the door locking them away had faded. Riley grabbed Oliver, dragging his head to hers, kissing him frantically, hungrily, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and moaning as he pressed against her face in his turn. They stumbled, moved and ended up with his back to the wall, her body a fierce lick of heat against his chest. “God, now.” She tugged at his clothing, managing to pull his jacket off and his shirt free of his pants. He helped, pulling his shirt off, then slipping the tiny straps of her dress down over her arms. She hissed in frustration as her arms caught, panting until she managed to push the silk down and bare her breasts. She leaned against him, the hard buds of her nipples searing his skin. “Oh, better.” She kissed

him again. “Yeah.” His hands stroked her spine and moved downward, inside the rumpled fabric, to find her buttocks. He forced her body against his erection, moving slightly, loving the deep groan she made and the way her thighs parted for him. She bit his lower lip and sucked it as he pushed the rest of her dress to the floor, baring her to his gaze. Not that he could see much, since his brain was rapidly fogging up with a single focus—to get all that heat around his cock. He turned them, putting her back to the wall, intending to unfasten his pants. But she was way ahead of him, her hands already loosening the button at the waistband and delving inside to cup him. It was his turn to groan as she found him, held him—and squeezed. “Jesus.” He tore at his fly and kicked at his clothing as it dropped to his feet. Her tongue left his mouth and traced a path down his neck to his shoulders and his chest as he toed off his shoes. She licked his nipple, then nipped it gently, sighing with delight as she discovered his naked body. His shorts were gone, he wore nothing but his socks, and damned if he had the time or the inclination to deal with those. Her thong vanished with a snap as he grabbed it and pulled it away from her. He heard her gasp as his arousal slipped between her thighs and rubbed against the bare skin of her pussy. “Oliver, please…do it now. I’m gonna explode here any second…” “Wait, we need…” “In your jacket pocket.” She dug her fingers into his ass and rubbed herself over his cock, hot moisture slicking him with her juices. “I know. Wait…” Managing to retain two or three functioning brain cells, he grabbed for his jacket, dropped it twice, cursed and then discovered the foil packet. All while being wonderfully assaulted by a desperately horny naked woman wearing red high-heeled shoes. He’d seen a porno movie like this once, but never imagined he’d be in the starring role one day. “Hurry.” She urged him on with a teasing brush to his balls with her fingertips and a quick bite to his earlobe. Damn, this woman could multitask with a helluva lot more skill than he could. He wanted to suck those hard nipples, explore her pussy with whatever body part was available and fuck her blind. He was barely managing to open the condom and find his own cock, let alone sheath it. Everything else would have to wait. Except the fucking her blind bit. That was top priority. Ready at last, he pressed his palms against her shoulders and held her steady against the wall. She widened her stance, her breath coming quickly in little puffs against his cheek as he positioned himself. “Lift your leg just a little to the left …” He bent his knees slightly as she obeyed and slipped one creamy thigh up against his hip. Letting go of her shoulder, he reached down between them and put the head of his cock where it wanted to

be…against the wet lips of her pussy. And thrust upward.

He’s going to show this wedding crasher just how dirty the outdoors can be.

Seducing Allie © 2011 Shelli Stevens Seattle Steam, Book 3 Allison Siegel is out to stop a wedding. With one of her best childhood friends about to marry a golddigger, who wouldn’t at least try to stage an intervention? Apparently, her other childhood bestie, Clint. The minute Allie grew out of her sneakers and into her curves, Clint’s hormones went ballistic. But she had eyes only for Ken, so Clint made himself scarce, even after the relationship fizzled. Now she’s back, looking better than ever—and hell-bent on sabotaging Ken’s wedding. So Clint knows he needs to do whatever it takes to head her off at the pass. Kidnapped! Allison can't believe it. Now she’s stuck in the Montana backwoods fending off nature’s friends, and fighting a losing battle to resist Clint—the sexiest forest ranger on the planet. Clint has big plans for Allie. Not only will he convince a city girl that she needs to embrace her inner nature freak, but he's going to prove there's sparks flying in more places than just the campfire. Warning: This book contains a city girl out of her element, a forest ranger determined to keep her there, and a campfire seduction hot enough to melt more than just marshmallows.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Seducing Allie: “You liked it when I kissed you this morning.” “Not even a bit.” Her pulse went into double time. “And last night at the bachelor party? You were practically melting in my arms.” “Talking to girls like this doesn’t actually get you laid, does it?” “In fact,” he went on like she hadn’t even spoken, “I think you’d like it if I did a whole lot more than kiss you tonight.” The scent of him filled her senses, sending her mind spinning and making her knees tremble. His hard torso pressed firmly against her breasts and her nipples tightened into hard points against the lace of her bra. She swallowed hard and tugged at her wrist. “Tell me, Allie. I’ve always wondered how you like it. Are you all about the romance?” His voice lowered to a soft caress. “Do you enjoy it when a man gently sucks on your nipples and brings you to orgasm while playing your clit like an instrument?” His words sent a rush of hot moisture between her legs and she bit back a groan. “Stop this,” she begged hoarsely. “Please, Clint.” “Or do you like it hard?” he went on, ignoring her plea. “Do you want a guy to bite and suck on your nipples until they’re red and marked?” He lowered his head, his breath hot against her cheek. “Do you like

to hold a man’s head between your legs—let him eat you as if you’re the fucking blue ribbon pie at the fair?” Shock ripped through her, from the top of her head to her toes which were curling. Shock and absolute lust. No man had ever spoken to her in such a crude, sexual way before. And more so, no man had ever fucked her hard like that. The idea of Clint being the one to do it and the imagery his words created… This time a groan did escape and she could feel the dampness of her panties between her legs. “Or maybe both.” His eyes darkened and he used his free hand to pull her tighter against him. Through the abrasive fabric of his jeans she felt him growing harder against her belly. “One thing is certain—I’m going to enjoy finding out.” He slid his hand down her spine to her bottom, bunching the fabric of her dress. Cool air tickled her buttocks, and her pulse quickened as he pulled the dress over her hips. His fingers plucked at the strip of thong between the cheeks of her ass. “I was wondering about this.” His mouth hovered just above hers. “Whether you wear thongs or just no panties at all.” “Both,” her voice trembled, and she couldn’t believe she was admitting it. “Sometimes a thong, sometimes nothing.” Why wasn’t she pushing him away? She should be fighting this—fighting him. But at this moment nothing else mattered except being locked in this sensual power struggle with Clint. She drew in a ragged breath and before she could reconsider, pressed her body firmly against his. He gave a murmur of approval. “I’ve been wondering about another thing.” “Oh yeah?” His lips brushed across hers, ever so lightly and a tremble racked her body. “What’s that?” She brushed her lips over his this time. He followed the strip of her thong down with his fingers, low between her cheeks. With a slight tug, she felt him slip his finger beneath the fabric, before his fingers grazed over the swollen lips of her sex. Fire raced through her veins and her knees weakened. “This,” his voice grew hoarser now. “I wanted to know how wet I made you.” He pushed a finger between the folds and inside her. “Hell.” His mouth grazed the side of her neck as he pushed the finger deep and began to slowly penetrate her with it. “You’re soaked for me.” She bit her lip, not so far gone that she would admit the words aloud. “Allie. My Allie-cat. My seductive little kitten.” He curled his finger, moving it along the wall of her channel. He hit an ultra sensitive spot and she gasped. “Admit you want me.” “The hell I do.” She moved against his hand.

“Really?” He pulled his finger from her and she cried out at the loss of sensation. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that.” He cupped her ass and lifted her, carrying her over to the bed before he dropped her down. She bounced once and scrambled to sit up. Going to his knees in front of her, he grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge. “You don’t want me?” “No,” she lied. The breath locked in her throat as he trailed his fingers up her calves. “Not even a little bit?” He pushed her dress up around her waist again and bracketed her hips with his hands. “Not even—” she gasped when he dropped a kiss on the silky fabric still covering her mound, “—a little bit.” “Hmm.” His tongue traced her slit through her thong. Up and down. The pressure and wetness of his mouth alone almost made her come. Tension coiled hot in her belly and the walls of her sex clenched in anticipation. “I’m not sure I believe you, kitten.” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her thong and tugged it off her hips. The tiny scrap of material slid down her body and off. Oh God, it was insane how bad she wanted his mouth on her. She clenched her fists and stared down at Clint kneeling between her thighs. He gave the slightest smile as he studied her swollen sex. Almost like he was forming a plan of attack. His breathing grew heavier as he gripped her calves and lifted her legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her thigh, then caught the sensitive skin between his teeth lightly. Allison leaned back onto her elbows, pushing herself closer to his mouth. She wouldn’t be the one to lose control. He raised his gaze to hers. Without looking away, he pushed his tongue inside her and despite her vow, she was lost.