His Ultimate Prize

‘The...the stage?’

‘Your favourite band is about to perform. Marco had me fly them out here just for you.’

‘He what?’ A different kind of stun stopped her heart.

‘Come on—you don’t want them to start without you.’

A thousand questions raced through her brain, but she didn’t have time to voice a single one before she was propelled onto the stage and into the arms of the band’s lead singer.

Torn between awe at sharing the stage with her favourite band, and happiness that she hadn’t misinterpreted Marco’s note after all, Sasha knew the next ten minutes were the most surreal of her life. Even seeing herself super-sized on half a dozen giant screens didn’t freak her out as much as she’d imagined.

She exited the stage to the crowd’s deafening roar. Tom beamed as he helped her down the stairs.

‘Have you seen Marco?’ Sasha attributed her breathlessness to her onstage excitement—not her yearning to see Marco de Cervantes.

Tom’s smile slipped and his gaze dropped. ‘Um, he was around a moment ago...’

She told herself not to read anything into Tom’s answer. ‘Where is he?’

‘Sasha...’ He sighed and pointed towards the roped-off area manned by three burly bodyguards.

At first she didn’t see him, her sight still fuzzy from the bright stage lights.

When she finally focused, when she finally saw what her mind refused to compute, Sasha was convinced her heart had been ripped from her chest.

Each step she took out of the concert grounds felt like a walk towards the opening mouth of a yawning chasm. But Sasha forced herself to keep going, to smile, to acknowledge the accolades and respect she finally had from her team.

Even though inside she was numb and frozen.

* * *

The knock came less than ten minutes later.

Marco leaned against the lintel. The buttons of his shirt were still undone; his hair was unkempt. As if hands—female hands—had run through it several times. He stood there, arrogantly imposing, larger than life.

She hated him more than she could coherently express. And yet the sight of him kicked her heart into her throat.

‘What do you want?’ she blurted past the pain in her throat.

His gaze, intense and unnerving, left her face to take in the bikini she’d changed into. ‘Why did you leave the concert?’

‘Why aren’t you back there, being pawed by your Italian sexpot?’

‘You left because you saw me with Flavia?’

‘You know what they say—two’s company, three’s a flash mob. Now, if you’ll excuse me...’ She grabbed her kaftan from the bed and the box containing the diamond necklace.

‘Here—take this back. I don’t want it.’

‘It’s yours. Every member of the team receives a gift for the team’s win. This is yours.’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘I’m not. Where are you going?’

She stared at the box, not sure how to refuse the gift now. ‘For a swim—not that it’s any of your business.’

‘A swim? At this hour?’

‘Singapore is the longest race on the calendar. It’s even longer when you’re leading and trying to defend your position. If I don’t warm up and do my stretching exercises my muscles will seize up. That’s what I’d planned to do before... Whatever—will you please get out of my way?’

His gaze dropped to her legs. A hoarse sound rumbled from his throat. A look entered his eyes—one that made her excited and afraid at the same time.

‘Marco, I said—’

‘I heard you.’ Still, he didn’t move away. Instead, he extracted his phone and issued a terse command in Spanish, his gaze on her the whole time.

Sasha dropped the box on the bed and took a deep calming breath, willing her skin to stop tingling, her heartbeat to slow down. Her senses were too revved up, ready to unleash the full power of her conflicted feelings for this man.

‘Let’s go.’ He finally moved out of the doorway.

‘I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what you’re doing here,’ she responded.

He speared a hand through his hair, mussing up the luxurious strands even more. ‘Does it matter why I’m here, Sasha? Are you happy to see me?’ he demanded in a low, charged tone.

She hated the fire that raced through her veins, stinging her body to painful life in a way even her first race win hadn’t been able to achieve.

‘Less than half an hour ago you had another woman all over you. Last time I checked, my name wasn’t Sloppy Seconds Sasha.’

He swore under his breath. ‘You know, you’re the most difficult, infuriating woman I know.’