He communicated with his teams via a headset microphone and watched the race live through his laptop. Beyond the computer screen on the coffee table, a big flat-panel TV hanging on the far wall also played the race. Toby watched both with an eagle eye and juggled comments and responses to and from the three race teams he had running today as easily as he’d recite his alphabet.
Frankly Amelia found this new persona incredibly sexy. And she hadn’t had many complaints with the previous one.
For the past two hours he’d analyzed and discussed how to run this race from thousands of miles away. When time permitted, he’d turn off the microphone and explain some of the goings on to her.
Amelia had expected to be bored. She wasn’t. The difference between watching this race with Toby and watching last weekend’s alone was like night and day. In fact, this behind-the-scenes view fascinated her and had taught her a very important lesson.
Racing wasn’t about the wrecks. It was strategy. Like chess. Only faster. And with more at stake. Sure, most of the technical lingo streaming through the speakers zipped right over her head, but from what she gathered, rocket-science calculations influenced every decision, from when and how many tires to change to when to stop for gas and how much to put in the tank.
She’d had no idea driving in circles—or in this case, on an irregularly shaped road course—could be so complicated.
A string of curses erupted from the computer. She recognized Toby’s substitute driver’s voice. The young driver was a hothead. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone off.
“What happened?” she asked as his car pulled out of line. Several vehicles passed him.
Toby silenced the mic. “He got hung out to dry.” At her confused frown he explained, “The car behind Jay’s bumped him out of place. He lost the draft. It slows him down and he falls back in the pack.”
The driver made a few erratic moves on the track as if he wanted to sideswipe someone.
Toby said, “Jay, if you bend my car on purpose, you’re out of a job. Shake it off. The best revenge is finishing ahead of the dickhead, and if you keep your cool, you can be a contender. We’re not looking for a win. Just a top-ten finish.”
Another surprise: winning wasn’t everything. Consistency ruled. A bunch of top-ten finishes triumphed over a few number ones in the NASCAR scoring system.
“I’m going to take him out,” the driver replied.
“If you try, you run the risk of cutting a tire, hitting the wall and taking yourself out. Play it safe. Be patient.”
Play it safe. Be patient.
She never would have expected to hear those words from Toby’s lips. She would have expected a risk-taking adrenaline junkie to encourage retribution. Instead Toby calmly talked his guy out of anger. Again.
Energy rolled off Toby in waves—waves that filled Amelia and made sitting still difficult. He’d been focused so intently that, other than talking to her, he hadn’t taken a break since before the race began. His voice was beginning to get husky. She crossed to the minibar, poured him a glass of iced water and slipped in front of him.
He winked his thanks and her heart hiccuped. Two weeks. She had two weeks left and then he’d be gone. Back to his races. Back to his female fans.
Another pair of cars bumped. Smoke filled the air surrounding them and sparks arched off the pavement. “Caution flag’s out, Jay. Settle down. Be ready to move on green.”
Toby flipped up his microphone, caught her hand and pulled her into his lap. His thighs were hard beneath her bottom, his palm warm on her belly, her need instantaneous.
“Having fun yet?”
“Yes.” And she meant it. She marveled at the change. In him. In her. Instead of viewing the race as forty-three men trying to kill themselves, she’d caught Toby’s excitement.
Omigod. Surely with her aversion to dangerous sports she wasn’t becoming a NASCAR fan?
He massaged her nape. “When we get back to the States, I want you to come to a race.”
Amelia gasped in surprise and hope surged in her chest. Was he saying he wanted more than Monaco? And if so, could she live with knowing each day he went to work might be his last?
She didn’t know. The only thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to become a nag like her mother.
As if he’d read her mind he said, “Just one race before we say goodbye.”
Her hopes plummeted. Apparently this race—her race to win Toby’s heart—was all about the crash.
Ten
Some butts were made for bicycle shorts, Amelia decided Wednesday afternoon as she watched Toby climb from his bike at the top of the hill outside a village perched on the side of a mountain.She’d enjoyed every bit of the scenery on today’s ride from Monaco into France, including the jagged cliffs, olive groves and cypress, pine and mimosa trees. But she’d especially enjoyed following Toby’s tush in skintight black Lycra.
The week while he’d been in the States had dragged, but the four days since his return had flown past. When Candace didn’t have her working on the wedding, Toby had kept her occupied for the remainder of the days and nights. She hadn’t had a moment to herself.
With his equilibrium returned, Toby had exercised and played at a furious pace, but always with the proper safety gear and always including her. If she’d ever doubted his safety-consciousness, then he’d shown her differently. He’d practically armored them both to go mountain biking today and Jet Skiing yesterday. He’d made her wear eye and hand protection and a mouth guard to play handball. A mouth guard, for pity’s sake. That had to be the least sexy thing she’d ever worn in her life.
Boy, had she been wrong about him being reckless. That didn’t help her situation. If he’d been careless just once, it would have made pulling back easier.
She dismounted and walked beside him. “So where are we and why are we here?”
“Roquebrune-Cap-Martin has a tenth-century castle. Since you’re into that stuff, I thought you’d enjoy a tour.”
She fell a little deeper in love with him in that instant, as she had done a half dozen other times this week. Like when he’d surprised her with a snow globe of the Monte Carlo Casino, her favorite building, or when he’d taken her to dinner and a couple of clubs where celebrities hung out and let her gawk her fill of famous faces. And now a castle tour.
“We’ll leave the bikes here and climb.” He gestured first to a modern bike rack and then to the historic-looking steep stone steps.
She pressed a hand to her heart while he secured the bikes.
Would he go to this much trouble if he didn’t care about her?
He shoved his sunglasses into his hair and pulled a bottle of water from his knapsack—a bag that included everything from sunscreen to a first-aid kit. She knew because she’d watched him pack it.
“Thanks.” She twisted off the cap and sipped. The chilled water cooled her parched throat. A rivulet escaped her lips and ran down her chin.
Toby reached out and caught it with his thumb—a thumb that caressed her jawline and eventually paused over her rapidly beating pulse. His silvery-blue gaze locked on hers and heated.
She gulped and offered him the bottle when what she needed to do was dump the cool liquid over her overheated body.
He raised the plastic to his lips. The simple act of drinking behind her seemed as intimate as a kiss, and it, combined with the promise in his eyes of passion to come later, stole her breath and dried her freshly moistened mouth. Sexual energy crackled between them.
Toby recapped the bottle, dropped it back in his pack and captured her hand. With each step she took into the past down medieval stone streets and steeple-covered alleyways Amelia became more determined to make her affair with Toby last as long as the ancient castle walls around them.
She couldn’t be happy with just Monaco anymore. And maybe it was time she fought for what she wanted.
“I should have known men would bring sex toys and gag gifts to the shower,” Amelia said to Candace Thursday night in the Hôtel de Paris’s luxurious Churchill Suite.
Candace flashed a wicked grin. “And I hope you and Toby enjoy your party favor.”
The bride-to-be had given each member of the wedding party a set of “lovers’ dice.” One die had a body part on each side. Face, lips, breast, gen**als…The other had commands. Caress, touch, lick, bite…The players were supposed to roll the dice and do whatever the cubes commanded.
The hot look Toby had flashed Amelia when he’d opened his gift had nearly incinerated her on the spot. Without a doubt he was looking forward to using his new toy, but not because he needed help being creative in bed.
Amelia shook her head to clear the haze of arousal clouding her thinking. “Candace, you have to stop matchmaking.”
“You must admit I did a stellar job this time. You guys are perfect together.”
All Amelia had to do was convince Toby of that. And she intended to try.
A knock on the door yielded the porter towing a luggage trolley.
“Would you please load up the gifts and carry them to the limo waiting downstairs?” Amelia instructed.
He went to work and Amelia turned back to Candace. “I could wring your neck for lying to me—to all of us—about this pregnancy. Not only was it not a secret, you’ve been using your morning sickness like a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“Oops. Busted.” Candace gave an unrepentant shrug. “Tonight was truly amazing. I can’t thank you enough. You and Toby make a great team.”
The Jack-and-Jill shower had been a success not only because the menu Amelia and Toby had chosen had been delicious and the setting spectacular but also because the naughty gifts and commentary provided by Vincent’s friends had kept everyone entertained.
“And that video roast Toby put together for Vincent with the other NASCAR drivers was a hoot. I laughed so hard I almost wet myself. He’s definitely a keeper, Amelia.”
“Enough already. Message received.”
The porter finished and headed for the door.
Candace kissed Amelia’s cheek. “That’s my cue. I’m going to take this loot to Vincent’s place. If you see him before I do, tell him he owes me for skipping out early. I know he and Toby had to talk business, but this is a huge haul. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Smiling at a job well done, Amelia shut the door behind her friend and scooped up the last of the wrapping paper. She stuffed it into a trash bag and glanced at her watch. Room service would be here with dinner in just over an hour. She scanned the suite one last time. Maid service would clean up tomorrow, but Amelia wanted to get the worst of it before Toby returned. He’d disappeared somewhere with Vincent about twenty minutes ago.
Early-evening sun streamed through the wall of windows at her back, casting a golden glow across the parallel white sofas. She tilted her head and considered the fireplace centered in the dark wainscoted wall. Was it too warm to have a fire? She’d never made love in front of a blaze. It would be a first, one of many she wanted to share with Toby.
When room service arrived, she’d ask them to light the logs. Happy with her decision, she set the trash bag by the door and headed for the bedroom.