She loved him. And it scared the hell out of her. The urge to retreat stabbed through her. Marco’s obvious reluctance to discuss their relationship frightened her. But looking at him, his face haggard, his hands clenched on the desk in front of him, she knew she couldn’t leave. Not just yet. Not when he was so worried about Rafael.
‘I’ll stay,’ she said.
Naked relief reflected in his eyes. ‘Gracias.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘Don’t mention leaving again. Even the mere thought makes me want to hurl something.’
She hated herself for the thrill of pleasure that surged through her. ‘It was for your own good—even if you don’t want to see it.’ And not just for Marco’s sake. She had to find the strength to walk away. Because the longer she stayed, the more she risked losing everything.
‘If you want suggestions on what’s good for me, I have several ideas—’ He stopped and cursed when his phone started ringing.
‘Before you start hurling things, I’ll remove myself to the garage. Your ’65 Chevelle Impala’s chrome finish needs polishing.’
‘It also has extra wide front seats, if I recall.’
Desire weakened her. ‘Marco...’
‘Fine. But before you go—’
He plastered his lips against hers and proceeded to show her just how foolish her decision to leave had been.
By the time Sasha stumbled from the study she knew her heart was in serious trouble.
* * *
Marco threw himself into his seat two days later and barely stopped himself from punching a hole in the wall behind him.
Even though she’d changed her mind about leaving, Marco had sensed a withdrawal in Sasha he couldn’t shake. It was almost as if Rafael’s impending emergence from his coma had put a strain between them.
But why? If there was nothing between them Sasha should be happy that Rafael was recovering. Unless...? The thought that Sasha had feelings for Rafael after all sent a wave of anger and jealousy through him.
No. He dismissed the thought.
She’d listened to him bare his soul, held him in her arms as he’d relived Angelique’s betrayal. Sasha had shed tears for him; he refused to believe the raw pain he’d seen in her eyes wasn’t real.
But he couldn’t deny something was wrong.
Only when they made love, when he held her afterwards, did he feel he had the real Sasha back. Even now, mere hours before she was due to leave for London, she’d locked herself away in his garage, hell-bent on restoring his vintage cars to even more pristine condition than they’d originally been in. While he sat here, grappling with confusion and a hunger so relentless he was surprised he didn’t spontaneously combust from want.
No. It was more than want. This craving for Sasha, whether she was within arm’s reach or he was in Barcelona, went beyond anything he’d ever known. The few times he’d contemplated whether it would be better if she wasn’t at the villa at all he’d felt a wrench so deep it had shaken him.
Angelique had never made him feel like this, even though at the time he’d thought he would never yearn for another woman the way he’d yearned for her.
What he felt for Sasha was different...deeper...purer...
Marco stiffened, the breath trapped in his chest as he tried to get to grips with his feelings. But the more he tried to unravel the unfamiliar feeling, the more chaotic and frantic it grew.
He glanced out of his study window towards his garage. The feeling that she was slipping through his fingers wouldn’t fade. But he couldn’t deal with it now. There were too many loose ends left to tie up.
As if on cue, his phone rang. With a muttered curse, he picked it up.
* * *
All the way to his suite Sasha forced herself to breathe. Despite the cold lump of stone in her stomach, she needed to do this. She couldn’t continue to string things along any longer.
She entered the suite and heard the shower running. Without pausing, she crossed the room and slid open the door.
Water streamed off Marco’s naked, powerful body. The need that slammed through her threatened to weaken her resolve. It took several seconds before she could speak.
‘Marco, I...I’ve decided...I’m not coming back here after the next race.’
He whirled about, looked stricken for a moment, then his jaw clenched. ‘I thought we had this conversation already.’
Even now, with the wrenching pain of losing him coursing through her, she couldn’t resist the intense pull of desire that watching the water cascade over his body brought.
She steeled herself against it. ‘I tried to talk. You laid down the law.’
He snapped a towel off the heated rack and stepped from the shower. ‘You timed it perfectly, didn’t you?’