onto her again Sasha wasn’t prepared for the mercurial shift from familial concern to dark fury.
‘You’re right. My brother’s bedside isn’t the place to discuss this.’ He came towards her, his long-legged stride purposeful and arrestingly graceful. His broad shoulders, the strength in his lean, muscled body demanded an audience. Sasha stared, unable to look away from the perfect body packed full of angry Spanish male.
In whose path she directly stood.
At the last second her legs unfroze long enough for her to step out of his way. ‘It’s okay. I’ll leave.’
‘Running away? Scared your past is catching up with you, Miss Fleming?’
She swallowed carefully, striving to maintain a neutral expression. Marco de Cervantes didn’t know. He couldn’t.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. My past has nothing to do with my contract with your team.’
He stared into her face for so long Sasha wanted to slam on the shades dangling uselessly from her fingers.
‘Extraordinary,’ he finally murmured.
‘What?’ she croaked.
‘You lie so flawlessly. Not even an eyelash betrays you. It’s no wonder Rafael was completely taken with you. What I don’t understand is why. He offered you what you wanted—money, prestige, a privileged lifestyle millions dream about but only few achieve. Isn’t that what women like you ultimately want? The chance to live in unimaginable luxury playing mistress of a castillo?’
‘Um, I don’t know what sort of women you’ve been cavorting with, but you know nothing about me.’
Impossibly, his features grew colder. ‘I know everything I need to know. So why didn’t you just take it? What’s your angle?’ His intense gaze bored into her, as if trying to burrow beneath her skin.
It took every control-gathering technique she’d learned not to step back from him.
‘I have no angle—’
‘Enough of your lies. Get out.’ He wrenched the door open, fully expecting her to comply.
Her eyes flicked to Rafael’s still form. Sasha doubted she’d see him again before the team’s month-long August break. ‘Will you tell him I came to see him when he wakes up—please?’ she asked.
Marco exhaled in disbelief. ‘With any luck, by the time my brother wakes up any memory he has of you will be wiped clean from his mind.’
She gasped, the chill from his voice washing over her. ‘I’m not sure exactly what Rafael told you, but you’ve really got this wrong.’
Marco shrugged. ‘And you’re still fired. Goodbye, Miss Fleming.’
‘On what grounds?’ she challenged, hoping this time her voice would emerge with more conviction.
‘I’m sure my lawyers can find something. Inappropriate enthusiasm?’
‘That’s a reason you should be keeping me on—not a reason to fire me.’
‘You’ve just proved my point. Most people know where to draw the line. It seems you don’t.’
‘I do,’ she stressed, her voice rising right along with the tight knot in her chest.
‘This conversation is over.’ He glanced pointedly at the door.
She stepped into the corridor, reeling from the impact of his words. Her contract was airtight. She was sure of it. But she’d seen too many teams discard perfectly fit and able drivers for reasons far flimsier than the one Marco had just given her. X1 Premier Racing was notorious for its court battles between team owners and drivers.
The thought that she could lose everything she’d fought for made her mouth dry. She’d battled hard to hold onto her seat in the most successful team in the history of the sport, when every punter with a blog or a social media account had taken potshots at her talent. One particularly harsh critic had even gone as far as to debate her sexual preferences.
She’d sacrificed too much for too long. Somehow she had to convince Marco de Cervantes to keep her on.
She turned to confront him—only to find a short man wearing a suit and a fawning expression hurrying towards them. He handed Marco a small wooden box and launched into a rapid volley of French. Whatever the man—whose discreet badge announced him as Administrator—was saying, it wasn’t having any effect on Marco.
Marco’s response was clipped. When the administrator started in surprise and glanced towards the reception area, Sasha followed his gaze. The nurse who had let her in stood behind the counter.
The administrator launched into another obsequious torrent. Marco cut him off with an incisive slash of his hand and headed for the lifts.
Sasha hurried after him. As she passed the reception area, she glimpsed the naked distress in the nurse’s eyes. Another wave of icy dread slammed into her, lending her more impetus as she rushed after Marco.
‘Wait!’
He pressed the button for the lift as she screeched to a halt beside him.
Away from the low lights of the hospital room Sasha saw him—really saw him—for the first time. Up close and personal, Marco de Cervantes was stunning. If you liked your men tall, imposing and bristling with tons of masculinity. Through the gap in his grey cotton shirt she caught a glimpse of dark hair and a strong, golden chest that had her glancing away in a hurry.
Focus!
‘Can we talk—please?’ she injected into the silence.
He ignored her, his stern, closed face forbidding any conversation. The lift arrived and he stepped in. Sasha rushed in after him. As the doors closed she saw the nurse burst into tears.
Outraged, she rounded on him. ‘My God. You got that nurse sacked, didn’t you?’
Anger dissolved the last of her instinctive self-preservation and washed away the strangely compelling sensation she refused to acknowledge was attraction.
‘I lodged a complaint.’
‘Which, coming from you, was as good as ordering that administrator to sack her!’
Guilt attacked her insides.
‘She must live with the consequences of her actions.’
‘So there’s no in-between? No showing mercy? Just straight to the gallows?’
Deep hazel eyes pinned her where she stood. ‘You weren’t on the list of approved visitors. She knew this and disregarded it. You could’ve been a tabloid hack. Anybody.’
His eyes narrowed and Sasha forced her expression to remain neutral.
‘Or maybe she knew exactly who you were?’
She lowered
