She couldn’t believe how close he got to the other cars as he did one lap, then two, then three. He wasn’t in the lead yet, but something told her he was simply biding his time, taking it easy the way it always looked like he did, before going all in for the win.
She remembered what he’d said to her in the elevator: Trust me, whenever I’ve decided to focus on something I want, I always get it.
No question about it, Zach Sullivan wouldn’t race if he wasn’t in it for the win.
Again and again the cars wove around the track, until seemingly from out of nowhere, Zach’s car shot out ahead of the pack, and they were all eating his dust.
For a moment, she forgot to be scared about his getting hurt as she chanted, “Go, go, go!” at the screen.
Cuddles was standing with her front paws on the desk, joining in with her in dog language. And when Zach finished the race a good car length ahead of the rest, she lifted the puppy up and cheered.
Only, it turned out the two of them weren’t the only ones who were happy with Zach’s performance. Because as he unfolded his large body from the car, several scantily clad girls rushed over to him and wrapped their perfect bodies around him in congratulations.
Tina knocked, then popped her head in. “I thought I heard you call for me. Is everything okay in here?”
God, no, it wasn’t okay. How could it be when she was literally being eaten up, inside and out, by jealousy? She wanted to rip the other women’s hands off Zach.
He was hers!
She clicked on the little X at the top of her screen to close the streaming video and nodded at Tina. “Everything’s fine, thanks.”
It would be, at least, once she’d set her brain back to rights and refocused her attention where it should be.
She put Cuddles on the floor. “I’d like to go over the final numbers for the shelter this morning so that I can draft up a release on it by tonight.”
But as soon as they pulled up the spreadsheet to tally up the expenses and income from the auction items, and Tina exclaimed over the Lamborghini that Zach had donated, Heather realized it wasn’t going to be quite that easy.
Because somehow, in the span of one short week, Zach Sullivan had infiltrated every part of her life.
* * *
Zach had always believed that there were few things better than the rush of being in a race car.
Being with Heather was better. Way better.
When Tommy had called to ask him to race, for the first time ever, instead of jumping at the chance, Zach had tried to turn him down. He’d told himself it was because he wanted to stay with Heather in the hotel room to spend the entire day exploring every inch of her skin, to make her laugh between acrobatic bouts of lovemaking, to watch her eyes light up and her skin flush with joy and then the heat of desire again and again.
But even as he tried to deny the truth, he knew his reasons for not wanting to race were bigger than that.
What, he couldn’t stop wondering, if this was it? What if his number came up on the race track...and he didn’t get to see Heather again?
No.
He’d been careful. So had she. They’d agreed not to fall in love with each other.
Besides, he hadn’t died in the race. Not this time, anyway.
Zach jumped out of his car in front of her building and nearly knocked over a group of poodles as he ran inside to get to her. Her assistant was in the middle of saying hello when he barged past her and into Heather’s office.
It nearly killed him to take the time to lock the door behind him and pull down the blinds on her window before he grabbed her from where she was standing at her file cabinet. The papers in her hands scattered all over the floor as he slid his hands into her hair.
A second later, her legs were around his waist, and he was lowering her down over her desk, his mouth locked to hers while she kissed him back just as passionately as he was kissing her. She made a small sound of pain and he shoved a stapler out from under her. Using his hands to caress the softness of her hip where it had dug in reminded him of the way she’d felt when he’d been massaging her in the hotel.
“Missed you,” he said between nipping at her lips and yanking off her long-sleeved shirt. He pressed a kiss right between her br**sts. “Needed you.”
He thought he saw her eyes flash with something more than desire as she followed suit by roughly yanking his T-shirt over his head. She leaned into his chest and he thought she was kissing him until he realized they were more little bites that she was giving him all over. Jesus, it was hot, but a whole hell of a lot more aggressive than she’d ever been before.
Despite how badly he wanted her, his internal radar was going off. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, but again there was that flash in her eyes that looked too much like anger, and when she followed it up with, “Just shut up and do me already,” he knew a hell of a lot more than nothing was wrong.
Somewhere between their extraordinary hours together at the Fairmont and now, he must have screwed up. He didn’t have the first clue how, just that he had.
With any other woman he wouldn’t have cared, would have just finished doing her and then gotten out of there. But he and Heather were more than just bang-buddies.
“What did I do?”
“You went and did your stupid race, even though you could have been hurt.” The lingering worry in her eyes was quickly masked as she snarled, “Congratulations on your big win.”
It was hard trying to think around the low level of blood in his brain, with her legs still around his and her beautiful br**sts bounding around in a white cotton bra that shouldn’t have been sexy but made it nearly impossible for him to form a coherent sentence.