Chapter Twelve

When Mel walked towards Aiden’s room two hours later she was no nearer to knowing how she was going to handle her silly crush – please God that was all it was – for the flavour of the day racing driver.

Outside his door she fiddled with her fringe, which absolutely refused to stay flat despite the ironing she’d just given it, and sucked in a deep breath. The wire from her bra, the lacy number she’d donned half an hour ago in a rush of guilt, shame and longing, cut into her chest and she surreptitiously tugged it down before knocking.

Aiden, so unbelievably sexy in a casual T-shirt and faded jeans, answered the door with a mobile phone glued to his ear and a fierce scowl on his face.

‘You’re flaming joking,’ he yelled into the mouthpiece. ‘What the hell am I going to do with a kid? I’m a bloody racing car driver. We’re on the move eight months of the year and, in case you didn’t know, this season has only just fucking started.’

She winced as he began to stalk up and down the room. Because his face looked so angry, her eyes strayed down to his feet. His narrow, naked feet. Was there something seriously wrong with her because she found even his feet incredibly sexy?

‘Look, I apologise for swearing, but this is one hell of a bombshell you’re dropping on me.’ He sounded more agitated than angry now. ‘I can hardly turn round to the FIA and say sorry, can we only race from Silverstone for the rest of this year, because I’ve got this kid to look after.’

She watched dumbfounded as Aiden thumped his forehead with his free hand and slumped to the floor. How could he be so dismissive, so uncaring, of his own son? Especially after all the hints he’d made about his own father’s treatment of him.

‘Sure, by all means phone back later,’ Aiden replied, a weary edge to his voice that matched his hunched shoulders, ‘but don’t expect my answer to change.’ With that he ended the call and dropped the phone to the floor.

Mel cleared her throat. ‘Is everything okay?’

And, yes, considering what she’d just heard on the phone, it was probably a stupid thing to say.

From his position on the floor, leaning against the wall, he gave her a tight smile. ‘Just swell, babe, thanks for asking. Everything’s absolutely fine and dandy.’

She could see he was suffering so she cut him some slack. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Well, you could shag me. That would sure help take my mind off things for a while.’

She flinched. Slack be damned, she wasn’t putting up with that. ‘Jesus, Aiden, do you have to be such a prick?’ Rigidly she turned her back on him and was halfway towards the door when he called her back.

‘Don’t go.’ Her hand hovered over the door handle. ‘Please.’

The desperation in his voice caught at her. When she glanced back at him she knew she couldn’t walk away. He looked more than distressed, he looked miserable. This was meant to be his day, his moment. Instead it looked like his world had come crashing around his ears.

‘I won’t go,’ she promised, taking a step towards him, ‘as long as you tell me what the heck is going on.’

‘Fair enough. Do you want a drink?’ He let out a strained laugh as he wearily struggled to his feet. ‘There’s probably some champagne around here somewhere.’

She shook her head. ‘No drink. Just an explanation.’

He faced her, hands on hips, his face strained. ‘Tell me, Mel, if you hadn’t walked in on all this shit … would we now be stripping our clothes off and kissing each other senseless? Or were you going to turn me down?’

Oh God. Mel found she couldn’t look into those direct grey eyes so she focused on the painting just above his shoulder. A few coloured boxes and what appeared to be an accidental splash of paint smeared over them. Very tasteful.

‘Mel? Answer the flaming question.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘Please.’

Slowly her eyes connected with his. ‘I can’t answer it,’ she told him truthfully, ‘because I really don’t know.’

There was the briefest flash of disappointment before he hid it behind his usual charming mask. ‘At least it wasn’t a no then, huh?’

‘Does it really matter to you?’

He let out a short laugh. ‘Does it matter whether the woman I’m crazy about wants to sleep with me?’ Shaking his head, he moved over to the small settee and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. ‘What do you think?’

His tense face and bleak eyes told her it probably did matter to him. At least for now. And the way she was keeping her distance, pulling away when he clearly needed her, was hurting him. Adding to his misery on an evening when he should be celebrating.

Letting out a soft sigh she did what she’d really wanted to do all along. She marched over to him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

He returned her kiss hungrily, voraciously. As his tongue began to do wicked things in her mouth, his hands found their way under her blouse, a rough warmth trailing across her suddenly sensitised skin. Whatever her answer might have been before she’d knocked on his door, now it was a resounding yes. She pushed herself more fully against him, making it absolutely clear what she wanted.

Taking her cue he eased up her bra – the lacy one, thank God for lust and vanity – and was starting to create exquisite torture with his tongue when he suddenly pulled back.

‘Sorry.’ His breath came out in pants as he rested his forehead against hers. ‘After last time I told myself if I ever got another chance with you I’d slow things down.’ He heaved in two long, deep breaths. ‘It’s harder than I thought.’

‘I don’t need it to be slow,’ she reassured, allowing her fingers to take the fascinating journey across the planes of his high cheeks and then over the stubble at his jaw. ‘In fact I’m a bit of a fan of fast and furious. But maybe we should talk first.’ She planted a kiss on his beautiful soft lips. ‘You were going to tell me about the phone call.’

‘I know.’ His mouth eased its way over hers. ‘And I will.’ He nibbled on her bottom lip. ‘But please, can I just forget about that for a while longer? Celebrate my victory by peeling off this sexy bra and worshipping your fabulous body?’

‘I don’t have a—’

‘You do.’

He silenced her with another deep, long kiss. While his mouth was causing havoc, his hands patiently and methodically removed her clothes. As a racing driver he was used to focusing on the task in hand; an attribute that clearly spilled into his love life, too. Emptying her mind of all her niggling doubts Mel clutched at his T-shirt, dragged it over his head and joined in.

When their clothes were strewn haphazardly over the floor, Aiden picked Mel up and carried her to his bed. He was going to do this properly. By nature he was fast, but by God, he could be slow and careful and … tender. Yes, he could do all that, if he put his mind to it. So once he’d yanked off the bedspread and laid her on the crisp white sheets, he knelt beside her and began to kiss every inch of her smooth, pale skin. The freckles above her breast. The soft curve of her stomach and down to the inside of her thigh.

The trouble was, she kept moaning. Quiet, delicious sighs of pleasure that tore at his supposed control.

‘Oooh, Aiden, yes, just there.’ Another gurgle in the back of her throat.

‘You’re not helping,’ he muttered, raising his head fractionally only to find her flushed face beaming down at him.

‘Oh?’

‘You know perfectly well.’ He slid off the bed and grabbed a condom from his wallet. He might as well put it on, even though he was going to torment her just a little longer.

Determinedly he settled his mouth over her breasts and began to lick at the proud nipples, every part of him aching as he studied the glistening peaks.

‘Ahh, to hell with it.’ With a grunt he lowered his body over hers and entered her in one long, powerful motion.

‘Is this the slower version?’ she gasped, then sighed as he tortured them both with long, deep thrusts.

‘Are you complaining?’

Her lips curved. ‘Certainly not … I, ahh, yes, more of that.’

He stopped any further conversation by kissing her.

When he came back to earth, Aiden found Mel leaning on her side, one hand propping up her head, watching him. He thought he could guess the first words to come out of her mouth, and he didn’t think they were going to be, ‘please can we do that again?’

‘Now it’s time to talk.’

He gave himself ten out of ten for his mind reading ability. Sadly it meant his abilities as a lover had to be questioned if all she wanted to do now was talk about that blasted phone call.

He tried for distraction. Reaching out a hand, he settled it over a luscious breast, smiling as it fit perfectly into the cup he’d made.

She laid her hand over his and gently took it away. ‘Come on, Aiden. A deal is a deal.’

With a sigh of resignation, he flopped back against the pillow. ‘It’s actually not that interesting. Not half as interesting as discussing, I don’t know, your top ten sexual positions.’

‘Aiden.’ It wasn’t just frustration he could hear in her tone. There was also finality. If he didn’t talk, she’d walk.

‘That was St Michael’s Boarding School on the phone,’ he replied flatly.

‘Oh no, has your son run away again?’

He shot to a sitting position. ‘My son?’

Her hazel eyes blinked up at him. ‘I overheard you talking to them last time. I didn’t mean to, but it was my phone so—’

‘You seriously think I have a son?’ he interrupted.

‘Well, yes.’

‘Wow.’ He scratched at his head, his mind spinning. ‘That says a great deal about what you think of me, huh?’

‘Who’s Tom then?’

He laughed bitterly at the way she avoided his question. ‘Tom is my ten-year-old half-brother who’s now run away from school twice since he started boarding. They’ve tried to contact our mother. Apparently they can’t get hold of her. After her, I’m the next of kin.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the pounding headache he knew he’d get the more he talked about this crap. ‘As the school are not surprisingly a) cross and b) worried they want to send him home.’

For a few seconds there was nothing but silence. ‘Have I got this right. Your mother has disappeared without letting your brother or the school know where she is?’

Her surprise was endearing. She’d clearly never met a family like the Fosters. ‘Yes.’

Mel pushed herself up into a sitting position. ‘I’m really struggling to understand this. What sort of mother abandons her son?’

Sweet, naïve little Mel. ‘The sort that doesn’t give a flying fig for anyone but herself.’

‘What about Tom’s father?’

‘From what I can remember he handed over a wedge of cash a few months after Tom was born and relinquished all responsibility for him.’

‘Poor boy.’

The sympathy in her voice pricked at him. ‘Yes, it sucks for Tom, but what the hell am I meant to do? I can’t possibly look after him.’

‘So what will happen?’

Aiden shrugged, fighting off the awful sense of déjà vu. ‘He’ll have to stay at the school.’

‘And that’s working so well for him at the moment, isn’t it?’ Her breasts bounced distractingly, drawing his eyes until she tugged at the duvet to cover herself. ‘Just like it worked so well for you.’

‘What’s the alternative?’ he asked defensively, though he knew damn well what it was.

‘Tom could always—’

‘No.’ Aiden thrust his legs out of the bed and groped for his jeans. This wasn’t a conversation he was comfortable having naked. ‘For the next few months I’m focusing on winning a title. I can’t do that if I’m trailing a kid round with me, one I barely know and who doesn’t know me.’

It was a while before she spoke again. When she did her quiet words were uttered with enough scorn to chill his bones. ‘So let me get this straight. Tom’s father abandoned him at birth, his mother has effectively abandoned him at boarding school and now his brother is giving up on him, too. Wow, that’s going to make him feel really special.’

Aiden’s head began to pound, exactly as he’d predicted. ‘We Fosters don’t specialise in happy families,’ he replied bitterly, stalking over to his holdall to find some painkillers.

‘Is this some sort of perverse payback then? You had a miserable childhood so now you’re going to make your brother have one, too?’

He snapped his head back round to her. ‘It’s not like that.’ Hell, his head was going to burst.

‘What is it like then, Aiden? How can you possibly explain why you’re not going to do your utmost to look after your clearly very unhappy kid brother?’

Her eyes flashed furiously and he had a sudden image of her as a mother, defending her child. All he could think was lucky kid.

After a few thwarted attempts to find the damn painkillers he gave up and sagged onto the floor. ‘Please, can we stop the shouting for a moment? I can’t think straight right now. My head feels as if it’s about to explode.’

She must have seen the pain etched across his face because she immediately leapt out of bed, reached for her handbag and found him some tablets. For a few blessed seconds he enjoyed the sight of her naked body – apparently even a pounding head couldn’t stop that pleasure – until she disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, glass of water in hand, she had the hotel robe wrapped tightly around her.

Dutifully he swallowed the tablets. A few seconds later he was groaning in pleasure as she knelt behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

‘It’s not quite the end to the day you’d imagined, is it?’

Her lips brushed the top of his head and his heart did some sort of weird somersault in his chest. ‘No, but if you carry on doing that, it’ll end on a real high.’

‘How’s the head now?’ she asked after a while.

He felt ready to slide to the floor and ooze through the floorboards. ‘Better, thanks. I think I’m still dehydrated from the race, and the combination of that plus the phone call …’

Her magic fingers stopped and she shuffled round to face him. ‘I know it’s none of my business, and I’m sorry if you think I’m being hard on you, but you need to think of what all this must feel like to that poor boy. Your brother.’

‘Half-brother.’

‘He’s still family.’

Aiden let out a deep sigh, knowing exactly how Tom must feel. Like nobody loved him. ‘I can imagine what he’s feeling and believe me, I sympathise with him, but … hell, Mel, I’m not part of his life. I never have been. I only saw the kid once, just after he was born. A few months later I left home for good. Without looking back, I might add.’ He could thank his father for something. His death had left an insurance payout on Aiden’s eighteenth birthday. He’d finally been free to do what he wanted. Live where he wanted.

‘He’s your brother, Aiden.’

‘No, he’s not. He’s a boy who shares some of my DNA, that’s all.’

‘My God, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’ Shaking her head, Mel rose to her feet and started hunting around for her clothes.

Aiden watched with a sinking feeling in his gut. The look of disgust on her face, combined with the fact that she was getting dressed, had to signal a shitty end to his day. Unless he could somehow magic an explanation that would enable her to see his point of view.

Lurching to his feet he stooped to pick up the bra she’d been looking for and clutched it tightly in his hand. ‘Mel, please, just listen to me. I’m being selfish here, I know, but God, I really feel this could be my year for winning the championship. I’ve wanted this so much, for so long, and now I’m finally driving a car that’s capable of it. Plus I’ve got the backing of a team who’ve done it before. If I could win it, just once, it would mean …’ he trailed off, unable to say the words out loud. The chance to come out from under his father’s shadow. Vindication to his supporters and his sponsors that he had what it took to be a winner. Most important of all, proof to himself. ‘It would mean everything to me.’

‘I see.’

She looked … resigned. No, it was worse than that. She looked disappointed and he had a horrid feeling that disappointment was directed at him.

‘Do you really?’ he asked, his voice raw with desperation. ‘I can’t afford any distractions this year. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’

Wordlessly she shrugged off her robe, shimmied into her knickers and then into her trousers. He didn’t even see her button up her blouse over her naked breasts – he was still holding onto her bra – because he was too focused on her face. Tears crept over her cheeks and she looked so damned upset it made his heart ache.

When at last she was dressed she gazed up at him with luminous hazel eyes. ‘And what about me, Aiden? Am I a distraction, too? Or don’t I even rate that high a priority?’

What? ‘Jesus, Mel, of course you’re not a distraction. You’re far more important than that. You’re a friend, a lover, someone who makes me laugh. Keeps me sane.’ She wasn’t listening to him. She was walking away towards the door. ‘Please, don’t do this. Don’t walk out on me.’ His voice was shaking and he couldn’t seem to control it.

With her hand on the doorknob she stopped to look at him, tears now streaming freely down her face. ‘I think it’s best this way. You need to focus on racing and I could do without another broken heart.’ She nodded, once. ‘I’ll see you in Bahrain.’

Then she was gone.

Aiden staggered to the bed, feeling as if something large and very heavy had burrowed its way into his chest. He flopped onto his back, eyes staring blindly at the ceiling, desperately trying to work out how a day that had held so much promise, and delivered such jubilation, had ended so spectacularly badly. He’d won the Chinese Grand Prix, for God’s sake. So why was he now in his hotel room, his heart crushed, feeling so utterly alone?

He glanced down to find his hand still clenching her lacy bra. With a cry of despair he threw it across the room.

Sod it. He didn’t need a woman to make his world feel right. He just needed a series of wins.