Chapter Nine

Aiden stood at the bar, eyeing up the impressive selection of drinks and realising he couldn’t have any of them. Not entirely true, as he was allowed to go wild and have a water, or indeed any soft beverage. What he really wanted, scratch that, what he really needed, was a long beer followed by a whisky chaser, a combination the team nutritionist would flip at. Technically he could have an alcoholic drink – they weren’t travelling to Shanghai for another couple of days – but things had changed dramatically since his father’s era, when drivers often got smashed the night before a race. Nowadays the sport was almost as much about fitness as it was about racing and teams paid people good money to lecture their drivers about regulating carb intake, maintaining hydration and limiting alcohol consumption to such a puny amount it was hardly worth bothering with. The next drop of alcohol he would allow to pass his lips was champagne when he stood on the podium. Note to self. He’d said when and not if.

‘Aiden?’

He knew, from the way his pulse began to race, that Mel … he kicked himself. M.e.l.a.n.i.e – apparently he wasn’t in that close inner circle of friends allowed to use the shortened form, probably because he wasn’t emotionally mature enough.

Melanie was now standing next to him, her breast brushing lightly against his arm. He might have told Frank she wasn’t his type, but truth was he didn’t have a type, just a rule not to get involved with women who might get hurt. Melanie, with her warm heart and previous track record of heartbreak, fell firmly in that category. So he needed to stop looking at her and wanting to kiss her.

He slid her phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it back to her. ‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’ She glanced down at the phone and then back up at him, eyeing him cautiously. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Fine, thanks.’ He could tell she was curious about the phone call but she already knew too much about him. He didn’t feel like adding to it. Besides, hopefully, that was the end of things. He’d done his duty, read Tom the riot act. His mother could sort the boy out next time.

His curt reply had brought a frown to her pretty features. She wasn’t beautiful, even with the make-up and the fancy dress, but by God she was lovely. Better than beautiful, because he’d often found beauty associated with coldness. Melanie … damn it to hell, Mel – he was going to think of her as Mel, even if he couldn’t call her that. Mel wasn’t a bit cold. If he was being fanciful, he’d say she was toasted marshmallows over an open fire. Cosy evenings cuddled up under a soft blanket.

‘I don’t know why you’ve got the hump with me,’ she told him crossly, which certainly put a halt to his wistful warm thoughts. ‘I only changed our conversation because you asked me to.’

‘True, though a different topic would have been appreciated.’ For a moment he considered her, wondering how she’d appreciate having one of her buttons deliberately pressed. ‘How about why you go round dressed like a nun to avoid any intimacy because you assume all men are like the sod who hurt you?’

Her mouth opened, then closed. When it opened again, her face had gone scarlet. ‘I don’t dress like a nun.’

‘No?’ Deliberately he ran his eyes down her body, over the delicious bumps of her breasts, the neat indentation of her waist, the full curve of her hips. ‘Tonight, you’re definitely not a nun, but all the other days?’ He shook his head, exasperated at her. ‘How can a smart, intelligent, incredibly attractive woman like you let a stupid racing car driver make you feel less about yourself?’

‘I … sorry, can you repeat that?’ She looked part flabbergasted, part amused, still a tiny bit irritated.

‘What, the fact that you’re not dressed like a nun tonight, but—’

‘No, no, the other bits. The smart, etc, etc. I definitely need to hear that again.’

He laughed, relaxing shoulders he hadn’t realised were so tense. ‘I’ll repeat them, if you promise to answer my question.’

She glanced down at her empty glass and handed it to him. ‘In which case, I’ll need another drink.’

Aiden sorted her out with another glass of champagne and himself with a lacklustre sparkling water and slice of lime. Boy did he know how to party. After neatly sidestepping a few of the watch company directors with promises that he’d catch them later, he found a quiet table.

‘Melanie Hunt, you’re a smart, intelligent, very … sorry, incredibly attractive woman,’ he told her, looking her straight in the eye, which was easy to do because he meant it.

Her eyes went a little glazed and her smile was as soft and sweet as he’d ever seen from her. ‘And you’re a generous flirt, Aiden Foster, but thank you.’

He held her gaze. ‘I meant every word. Now, tell me about this git who broke your heart.’

She let out a short laugh at his abrupt change of subject. ‘There’s not much to tell,’ she replied, taking a few gulps of the champagne he’d just bought her. ‘Carlos and I dated for a year—’

‘Carlos Ferrer?’ he interrupted. ‘Otherwise known as the Spanish sleazeball?’

Mel choked out a laugh at Aiden’s shocked expression. ‘Okay, so maybe I should have had a bit more sense than to fall for him, but I was young and naïve and he was handsome and dashing.’

‘And a total scumbag.’ Aiden shook his head, as if he was having trouble believing what he’d heard. ‘Hell, Melanie, I thought you had better taste than that.’

‘This coming from the man who fell into bed with a supposed journalist called Devon?’

She half expected him to go frosty on her again but he surprised her by roaring with laughter, touching her glass in a salute. ‘Touché.’

Heat washed through her as she stared at his mouth and the sensuous curve of his lips. And the dazzling grey of his eyes. Grabbing at her glass she swigged back another gulp. If she carried on like this, she was going to get drunk. Factor in the way Aiden was gazing at her, as if she was a double helping of his favourite dessert, and she’d lose control of her senses, including the part of her brain which told her to stop.

She pushed the glass away.

Aiden watched, though he didn’t remark on her action. ‘So how did things with you and the sleazeball come to an end?’

‘Through my press contacts I heard he’d been spotted taking three women back to his hotel room after a night on the town.’ For the first time, recounting the tale didn’t make her heart ache. She still felt sick at the thought of how stupid she’d been, but her heart was definitely whole again, beating solidly in her chest.

Until Aiden searched out her eyes that is, when it started to flip and turn over. ‘We’re not all like that,’ he told her quietly.

‘Maybe not, but I don’t think I’m prepared to take the risk a second time,’ she answered, just as quietly.

His expression was one of pure disbelief. ‘You’re talking to a man who takes risks for a living. If I can do that with my life, surely you can be brave enough to take a risk with your love life?’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘I’m saying you should let your guard down and live a little. You don’t have to involve your heart. Think of sex as a form of recreation. It’s exercise, a stress buster and a feel good factor all wrapped up in one immensely satisfying package.’

She grabbed for the glass she’d pushed away. ‘And who’s going to supply that, err … package?’

The mouth she’d wanted to kiss since she’d first clapped her eyes on him curved upwards and his eyes glittered. ‘Me.’

Her head knew his proposal was far too dangerous to contemplate. Heck, she already had a crush on the man and she was even starting to like him, despite all his baggage. There was no way she’d be able to disengage her heart.

But that same head was feeling pretty fuzzy from champagne. As for her body – that was primed and ready to do whatever Aiden wanted.

‘It’s a very tempting offer,’ she admitted, her voice rattling in her throat.

His eyes shimmered. ‘Why don’t you think about it?’ he said finally, slowly rising to his feet, his lean tuxedo clad body towering over her. ‘I’m going to call it a night.’

‘I think I’m ready to go to bed, too.’ He raised an eyebrow and she started to giggle, realising what she’d said. ‘To sleep,’ she added quickly.

‘Shame.’ Quickly his eyes scanned the room. ‘Look, to avoid any rumours, why don’t you go up first? I’ll hang on a few more minutes and press a few more hands.’

She hadn’t even considered, for one moment, how it might look if they both left the function room and rode up in the hotel lift together. Maybe even got out on the same floor, because she guessed Delta had a block booking. Instead she’d been thinking, what if he pins me to the wall of the lift and kisses me? What will I do then?

Now she wouldn’t find out.

Feeling shamefully disappointed she weaved her way into the lift. Back in her room, away from Aiden’s intoxicating presence, she found she wasn’t quite as drunk as she’d thought. She’d even begun to meticulously remove her make-up when she heard a tap on the door.

‘Mel?’

As her hand froze, her heart leapt. Automatically she scrutinised her face in the mirror. Could she do this? Open the door, when she had a pretty good idea what would follow if she did?

Of course he might just be checking she’d got back to her room safely.

Hastily – she didn’t want to look like a total freak – she removed the rest of her make-up before walking to the door. Rubbing one hand over her chest, trying to calm the furious beating, she turned the handle with the other.

Aiden was leant against the doorframe, bow tie undone, shirt open at the neck, jacket carelessly tossed over his shoulder. He looked every inch the poster boy, even down to his smoky grey eyes and dark hair flopping over his forehead.

He cleared his throat. ‘I came to … I just wanted to check …’ He swore. ‘Damn it, can I come in?’

Without hesitation she flung the door open.

Heat blazed from his eyes and Aiden did exactly what she knew he’d do. He pounced.

In a heartbeat he was covering her mouth with his and kissing her. A long, drugging, toe-curling kiss that was never going to be enough, for either of them. In a well-practiced move he pinned her against the wall, his hand reaching behind to peel down her dress. With her breasts exposed, he let out a deep, satisfied groan and buried his face in them, kissing and licking until she was wild with lust.

‘God, Mel.’ He pushed his hips hard against her, grinding his arousal against her stomach. ‘I want you,’ he told her thickly.

Mel couldn’t speak so she let her hands talk for her, reaching between them to touch him, running her hands up and down his fly. Pulling down his zipper.

‘If you don’t want me inside you in the next few seconds, you’ve got to tell me.’ His voice sounded as undone as she felt and the knowledge that she was doing that to him, aroused her even further. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should say no, but the only sound to come out of her mouth was a moan.

Aiden took it for the go-ahead it was.

There was the sound of foil rustling and moments later he was crashing into her, thrusting deeply, pushing her so high up the wall her feet were left dangling. ‘Christ …’ he let out a deep, satisfied groan that shot straight to her core. ‘Shit, Mel, that feels so bloody good.’ A string of earthy profanities left his mouth as he pounded into her.

The pleasure built so fast and hot that Mel couldn’t hang on, couldn’t stop herself. Her body seemed to have a life of its own and, moaning and grinding against him, she exploded.

Seconds later he jerked against her, groaning out his pleasure. As the shudders died and her body sagged against him, she burst into tears.