Pride After Her Fall

He was jealous?

‘Au contraire, Nash, I’ve told you a great deal about my past and you’ve told me so little. I think you have a habit of privacy.’

‘You want to hear about other women?’

Lorelei made a dismissive gesture. ‘Eh, bien, you will not be serious about this! Why don’t you keep your important secrets, then?’

He leaned in and pushed her rogue curl behind her ear.

‘What do you want to know, Lorelei?’

She brightened. ‘We could start with something I asked you about last night—about your scars. You said you show them every time you race. What did you mean?’

The amusement dropped away from his expression and he rocked back on his heels.

‘I know it’s probably very complicated,’ she persevered, ‘but I’d like to know why you do what you do...’

‘Complicated?’ he said with a humourless smile. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s incredibly simple. It’s in the blood. My old man, John Blue, worked in pit crews around the world and dragged us with him.’

‘Ah, an international childhood.’

‘Yeah, you could say that.’

He was quiet for a moment, but Lorelei waited. She sensed she’d just glimpsed the tip of an almighty iceberg.

‘Mum walked out when I was barely more than a baby. Couldn’t take the lifestyle, couldn’t take the old man. Can’t blame her.’

He turned away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets, bunching his shoulders.

‘She left us boys with Dad,’ he said, looking away down the beach as if scanning for something. ‘He was a drunk and a bully and he made our lives a living hell. Until one day when Jack—my older brother—was big enough to climb behind the wheel of a car and he started us both rally driving. Jack was good, but I was better.’

She didn’t quite understand. ‘You raced for your papa?’

‘No, I raced in spite of my old man.’ His voice was taut and stripped of emotion. ‘He had world-class dreams and I was going to fulfil them for him. The minute I signed with Ferrari I cut contact with him.’

Lorelei suppressed a shiver. He hadn’t shown this side to her. She imagined it was this single mindedness that had made him so very good at what he did and a very wealthy man.

‘You took your revenge?’ she said quietly, uncertain as to how she felt about that.

‘No, I survived.’

It was a terse statement, to the point, and it chilled her to the bone.

‘You didn’t abandon your old man,’ he said suddenly, meeting her eyes, and she could see he’d shut down again, ‘I admire that.’

‘Non.’ The negative was pushed from her instinctively. She rejected his statement with her entire body. ‘Don’t admire me. My mother wasn’t there for me either, but my father didn’t drink or make my life hell—at least not on purpose. He loved me. How could I abandon him? I couldn’t abandon someone I love.’

Nash was watching her as if her words were flicks of a knife.

‘Good,’ he said with finality, and she knew the subject was closed, ‘I’m glad he loves you. You deserve that, Lorelei.’

Meaning he didn’t? Lorelei wanted to offer him something, but she had a strong feeling whatever she did in this moment would be rejected. He was a man driven by demons and it was all too possible she had come too late into his life to make any difference at all.

With a sudden movement Nash bounded up onto the sea wall beside her, offering her his hand. Standing over her, he was once more the solid, take-charge guy who made the world seem a less chaotic, threatening place when she was with him.

‘Enough of the past. I want to show you the mountains this afternoon. We’ll take the Jeep up.’

* * *

Later that evening over dinner she asked him the question that had been bothering her most. ‘That accident you were in, in Italy, is that why you got out of the sport?’

Nash shook his head. ‘You’d think so, but no.’ His voice was quiet and deep and sure. The rose candlelight cut into the restaurant walls, lining his dark head in gold. ‘My take on it is I don’t have any dependants. If I killed myself racing at least I’d leave the world doing something I loved.’