Craving Her Enemy's Touch

‘Charlie,’ he repeated as wild need pumped through his veins. He really should stop his mind wandering to the subject of sex. He was in danger of complicating this mission beyond all proportions. She was the one woman he shouldn’t want, couldn’t desire. ‘Seb did want you there.’

‘I can’t.’ Her voice, still a throaty whisper, tugged at his male desires as they rampaged ever wilder.

‘You can,’ he said and, without thinking, he reached out and stroked the back of his fingers down her face. Her skin was soft and warm. Her breath hitched audibly and her eyes darkened in a message as old as time itself.

Slowly she shook her head in denial, moving her cheek against his fingers, and he clenched his jaw against the sensation, reminding himself he didn’t mix business with pleasure and this had always been about business—and concealing his friend’s downfall.

He thought again of the recent conversation with her father, of the assurances he’d made to him, binding him deeper into the promise Seb had extracted from him as his life had ebbed away.

‘Your father thinks you should.’

It was as if an explosion had happened. As if a firework had gone off between them. She jumped back from him, the chair scratching the tiled floor noisily, her eyes flashing accusation at him.

‘My father?’ Her voice, laden with shock, crashed into his thoughts, bringing his mind well and truly back into focus. ‘You’ve spoken to my father?’

* * *

Charlie was numb with shock. How dare he speak to her father? And why had her father not mentioned it? Why hadn’t he warned her Alessandro Roselli, owner of one of Italy’s biggest car manufacturers, was looking for her, wanting her to do something he knew she couldn’t face yet? She’d only seen her father yesterday. He should have told her.

‘What exactly have you spoken about with my father?’ She kept her words firm, her fingers curled around the back of the chair as if the pine would anchor her, keep her thoughts focused and in control. Just moments ago she’d wondered what his kiss would be like, had revelled in the soft caress of his fingers like a star-struck teenager. What had she been thinking? ‘You had no right.’

‘I contacted him to ask if I could visit, to invite you to be at the launch. Your father knows it is what Seb wanted.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest and leant against a kitchen unit, his eyes never breaking contact with hers.

For the second time that morning her shoulders sagged in defeat. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes briefly. Hopefully, when she opened them he wouldn’t be watching so intently, so knowingly.

But it didn’t make any difference. Those bronze-flecked eyes, which strangely felt so familiar, now bored into her. Right into the very heart of her, as if probing for every secret she’d ever hidden.

She dropped her hands and gripped onto the back of the chair again. ‘You had no right to speak to my father. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what we’ve lost and I’m more than capable of deciding for myself if I want to see you or not or if I want to be involved in the launch.’

‘And do you?’ He raised his brows and a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. The same lips she’d just imagined kissing her.

Did she what? Focus, Charlie. Her mind scrabbled to regain rational thought. She didn’t know what she wanted except not to allow this man, this prime specimen of raw maleness, to know how unsure and undecided she was.

‘I certainly didn’t want to see you.’ She raised her chin and injected calm control into her voice. ‘If you recall, I asked you to leave. I don’t want any part of the motor racing world any more.’

‘Is that why you’ve hidden yourself away in the depths of the English countryside?’

The curiosity in his voice was barely disguised and the question came rapidly on the heels of the confusion he’d caused just by being here. She found it difficult to think about such things, but this man’s presence was making it harder still.

‘I withdrew from the frenzy of the media out of respect for my brother. I’m not hiding,’ she said, aware of the curt tone of her voice. ‘I couldn’t continue to be on camera, promoting the team, not after Seb died.’

‘Do you think he’d want you to stay that way?’

As he leant against the kitchen unit, unable to help herself, her gaze flickered to his hips and strong thighs. A sizzle of sexual awareness shimmied over her. Why did she have to find this man, of all men, so undeniably attractive?