The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

“Go slow through the Lowes hairpin turn,” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I feigned confusion. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

The moment it was out, I regretted it. I’d meant for my joke to irritate him, but—shit—it must have sounded like flirting because his smile widened.

“I’m the man who still doesn’t know your name.”

I gave him a pointed look. “Do you need to?”

“It’d make it easier for me.” His posture was relaxed and his eyes friendly, and maybe for some other woman, this approach would work. But I wasn’t interested.

I shifted on my heels, subtly leaning away from him. “How’s that?”

“I need to know what name to give to security when I take you and your boyfriend on a private tour of the racing paddock.” He set a hand on the back of the seat. It had the appearance of a casual gesture, but it boxed me in between him and the simulator. “Unless,” his voice dropped low, “he is too busy to join us?”

Oh, wow.

He had no fear of crashing his car, and no problem hitting on unavailable women. Maybe to him, they didn’t exist. All women were available—even the girlfriend of a competitor’s sponsor. That was probably the part of me he found most attractive.

I set a hand on my hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve already toured the paddock.”

He tilted his head. My statement caught him off guard, and I saw the moment he determined I must not have understood what he was implying. He’d have to try again.

“Drinks and a tour of the yacht I’m staying on, then. Should we say tomorrow evening after the VIP meet and greet?”

“We’re not going to that. HBHC is rolling out a new product, so we’ll be at the launch party.” Vance had to give a speech and everything.

Niko moved, subtly bringing his body closer, and his voice dripped with seduction. “That doesn’t sound very exciting for you. Don’t you think you’ll have more fun with me?”

I delivered it as plainly as possible. “No.”

He looked like I imagined he would if the brakes on his car suddenly stopped working. “No?” His face abruptly changed, and he let out a soft laugh. “Ah, you Americans with your dry humor.”

This dude seriously wasn’t getting it, meaning it was time to switch tactics.

I smeared a fake smile across my lips, placed both my hands on his shoulders, and leaned in. I had to rise onto my toes to whisper it to him.

“You know what?” I purred. “Maybe I do recognize you. Didn’t you win the Constructors’ Championship last year?”

I trailed my left hand down his arm. As expected, the muscles beneath my palms hardened. I pulled back just enough to see the pride heat his eyes.

“Yes, I did.”

I dragged my other hand down the front of his chest, tracing the line of buttons. “Hmm. I do love a winner,” I said. “Tell me. How are you doing this year?”

His reaction was the same as if I’d dumped cold water on him. “It’s early in the season. The problem is the car, not me.”

Leitner had only finished on the podium once this year and was way behind on the points. I stared up at him with a patronizing expression. “You sure about that? Because most of the stuff I read said you got lucky last year.”

His expression soured, and he stepped back, breaking our contact. “That’s bullshit. Who held off Ferrari and got the car across the line on blistered tires last year at Monza? Me. Not Janssen, or my race engineers, or the technical team. Me.”

I turned and bent, swiping my clutch up off the side table, and pressed it into his chest. A smile stretched on my lips, but my tone was full of condescension. “If you say so, Leitner.”

“Emery?”

My heart thudded and tripped over itself. I’d been so wrapped up in what I’d been doing, I hadn’t noticed Vance’s approach. I swiveled my head and found him staring at me. My breath caught at how betrayal teemed in his eyes.

I could only imagine what I looked like. I had my purse flat against Niko Leitner’s chest, pinned beneath my hand, a smile on my face, and we were standing much too close. It looked intimate between us, but that wasn’t the case. I’d only needed to control Niko’s focus—

Vance’s tone was cold, indifferent. “I was beginning to wonder if something happened to you.”

I went ramrod straight, retracting from Niko. “No, sorry. I was on my way back and got . . .” Ambushed? “Sidetracked.”

Niko grabbed the sides of his suit coat and adjusted how it sat across his shoulders, giving him an excuse to puff up his chest. “I was offering her some advice for the simulator.”

There were knives disguised beneath my smile, and I hoped Vance could hear them when I spoke. “Then Niko invited me for drinks on his yacht.”