Accelerated Passion (14 page)

“Exactly.” He threw a wicked grin her way.

Fuck.

She wanted to tell him to stop. To behave. But as they approached the adjoining road to the
autobahn,
something prevented her.

How many people got the chance to be driven by Dean Cudditch—
the
Dean Cudditch? World Champion driver.

Their speed increased, Dean overtaking a car that was already going at an impressive rate on the
autobahn
.

“You won’t kill us, will you?”

“Hey.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Of course not.”

“Hold the fucking wheel!”

“Okay, okay.” He did as she’d asked. “Driving fast is perfectly safe if you know what you’re doing. And, babe, I do.”

The Porsche seemed to come to life. If it had been going fast before, now it was tearing along.

It felt super-sonic to Frankie. She clenched her fists. Excitement raced through her as she stared at the empty road stretching into the distance. She’d been on a race track, been pretty fast, too. But she didn’t have the skill or the know how to really go for it.

And Dean was going for it.

She glanced over at him. His face was alight. Speed was his drug, and he was flying high. He’d never looked more handsome to her than in that moment. Doing his thing. Having fun. Being the crazy, top-class sportsman that made people the world over adore him.

“I never get tired of it,” he said, a grin spreading on his face.

“What?”

“Acceleration. The way it makes your body feel. It makes my skin tingle, my stomach flip. It makes me want more, more, more. Faster, faster, faster.”

“I think we’re going fast enough.”

“Ah, I think there’s some more in her.”

Once again, he put his foot down. The revs increased as did the speed at which the trees on the verges whizzed past.

Frankie laughed. A loud, slightly hysterical sound that filled the car.

“You love it, too,” he said. “I can tell.”

“Yes. Yes.”

Jesus, what kind of crazy speed were they traveling at now?

She released her grip on the seatbelt and held onto the door. Peered at the speedometer.

But as she looked, Dean began to slow the car.

All she saw was the needle dropping.

A little stab of disappointment poked at her chest. Much as the drive had been adrenaline-inducing, she’d also known she couldn’t be in safer hands. Very few men in the world could drive like Dean. He was a master of his game.

“It’s the next junction,” he said, pointing at a sign that shot past them. “Not far now.”

“Nothing’s far at that speed.” Another giggle burst from her. She pressed her fingers over her lips. “I should be mad as hell at you.”

“But you’re not. I knew you wouldn’t be.”

“Quite a gamble.”

“People think I’m a risk-taker,” he said, dropping down a gear as they took the slip road. “But I only ever take calculated risks. If there’s a chance it won’t go my way, I judge the odds. Risk is all about educated guesses if you want to stay alive.”

“And you had an educated guess that I wouldn’t demand to be taken home instantly for your stunt.”

He slowed further and joined a road with several cars driving in front. “Babe, you’re a top mechanic for McLaren. The chances of you not liking to go fast are pretty damn slim.”

“Well, you’ve got me there.”

“Have I?” He reached across and took her hand. “Got you, that is?”

“For tonight.”

“Good.”

A few minutes later Dean turned down a narrower road.

“It’s along here.”

Frankie watched as they passed the last in a row of houses. “Is it?”

“Yep.”

Suddenly, a few bright lights shone from the blackness.

“There,” he said. “Look.”

Frankie was glad. She really was very hungry now.

He indicated and pulled into the car park. “Are you good at reverse parking?” he asked.

“I can do it?”

“Could you get in that one?” He pointed at a space to his right next to a van.

“Of course.”

What was he on about? It was plenty big enough.

“Like this?”

“Well, I—” Again, she squealed.

He pressed his foot to the floor. The car had sped up alarmingly. The van was approaching at speed.

She was flung to the right as he applied the handbrake.

The wheels screeched as the Porsche skidded, the back end flipping toward the van.

“Fuck!” she managed, clutching the door and the dash.

The car came to a rapid stop.

It was perfectly parallel with the van and facing forward, ready to drive away.

“Jesus, fucking, Christ,” Frankie said, panting.

“Hell, yeah!” Dean smacked his hand on the steering wheel and laughed loudly.

She stared at him and shook her head. “Is this how you romance a girl, Mr. Cudditch?”

“A girl like you, yeah.” He leaned over and pressed a quick hard kiss on her lips. “Now come on. All that speed has made me hungry.”

Soon they were sat in a booth in the quaint restaurant. Just like the house they were staying in, wood was the predominant material. Candles were set on the tables, their flames shivering delicately, and there was an excess of lace—the tablecloths, the curtains, the waitress’ apron.

“What are you going to have?” Dean asked, studying his menu.

“Mmm…” She read the descriptions, written in German, beneath each dish. “Probably the schnitzel.”

“Where is that?”

“Here.” She pointed to his menu.

“Sounds good. I wonder what it comes with?”

“Salad, sauerkraut, bread, and either chips, jacket potato, or mash.”

“Does it?” He frowned. “Where does it say that?”

“Right underneath.”

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. “You can read that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Anything else you want translated?”

“How about that sign?” He pointed toward the door and tipped his head as though wondering if she were tricking him.

Frankie glanced over her shoulder. “It says vehicles left at owners’ risk. Which is just as well, considering some of the drivers’ parking skills around here.” She grinned.

“So what other languages can you speak?”

He seemed genuinely impressed and interested.

“French, Spanish, a bit of Italian, but I could do with spending more time there to get really fluent.”

“Wow.”

“Nothing wow about it. I just found it really easy to pick up languages when I was at school. The teachers recognized it and encouraged me. Then doing this job, spending time with team members of different nationalities, traveling, too.” She paused, not wanting to sound like she was bragging. “It’s useful, you know, to be able to have conversations wherever you are in the world.”

“You’re not kidding. You can order for us both in a minute. Save me looking like a bumbling idiot trying to do it.”

“Okay.” She laughed.

A trilling sound came from his pocket.

He frowned, pulled out his phone, and glanced at the screen.

“Everything okay?” Frankie asked.

“It’s Bridget. I should take this. Do you mind?”

“No. Go ahead.”

He tapped the screen. “Hi. Everything okay?” Pause. “Of course. No problem. Happy to.”

He rubbed his hand over his head, a gesture she’d seen him do before when she’d spied on him from her room in Silverstone, that first day she’d met him. He’d been on the phone then. Had it been to Bridget?

“Hey, buddy.” He smiled and his face softened. “Of course, you can say goodnight to me. Anytime you want to. Your mum has my number.” He reached over the table and took Frankie’s hand in his free one.

She watched as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“You’re a bit young for your own phone yet. But soon, in a few years. When it’s okay with your mum and Nic.”

Frankie could hear a childish voice on the other end of the line. Not loud enough to make out words, just enough to hear it was a kid.

“Yes, then you’ll be able to call me whenever you want to. As long as I’m not racing. It’s not good to talk on the phone and drive at the same time, is it?”

Frankie smiled and turned her attention to the menu. She was enjoying listening to Dean talk to Henri, and also his caresses on her hand.

“Yes, we can do that. Well, I’m not sure if Heinz would like it. What if he fell in?” Pause. “Well, okay, I know he can swim, and practice makes perfect, but—” He laughed. “Okay, okay, he can come, but I might bring a friend, too.”

Frankie glanced up at him.

“You’ll have to wait and see, Henri. Now be sure to pack everything you need, and before you ask, yes, it will be a picnic.” He smiled and listened to a reply. “I can hear your mum calling. Now be a good boy, go to sleep soon. Make sure Heinz goes to bed, too.” Pause. “On the end of your bed, does he? Yep, that’s cool with me if it’s okay with your mum. Love you, buddy. See you.”

He ended the call and slipped his phone away

“Henri?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah.”

There was something a bit different about Dean now he’d spoken to his son. Less intense, gooey almost. As if he’d melted a little.

“Is he okay?”

“Fine. He’s just going to bed. He likes to say goodnight to me.”

“Every night?”

“No, usually only when I’m in town, when we’ve spent time together like this. Then, when I’m away, the evening calls taper off pretty quickly.” Sadness crossed his eyes.

Frankie turned her hand over and took his within hers. She gave it a squeeze.

He sighed. “It’s as if he’s forgotten about me. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“He’s probably just protecting his little emotions. It’s hard to miss someone whatever age you are, but for a kid, it must be confusing.”

“I try to explain it. That I’m working. Getting money to give to his mum to look after him and all that.”

“And I’m sure he understands that.”

“I hope so.”

“You’d rather he had a coping mechanism than be a wreck, crying and missing his dad and not getting on at school or playing up.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I’d hate that.”

Frankie smiled. “He probably misses you more if he speaks to you but can’t actually see you. I’m sure the older he gets, the more he’ll be able to cope with that.”

“I hope so. I’d like to get him a phone so we can be in touch constantly.”

“It won’t be long. They grow up so quickly.”

He leaned forward, slipped his hand around the back of her neck, and set a kiss on her lips. “How did you get so wise?” he whispered.

Something inside of her fell a bit more for him. There was so much more to this Formula One champ than everyone thought. And here she was, sitting in this gorgeous restaurant, kissing him.

“
Bitte entschuldigen Sie mich. Was kann ich Ihnen bringen?”
A waitress stood at their side, pencil poised over her notepad.

Dean broke the kiss and sat back. He didn’t take his gaze from Frankie.

“Please do the honors,” he said. “I’ll have whatever you’re having because I’m sure it will be delicious.”

“Right, so you know the plan,” Frankie said, trying to see Dean’s face through the shadows of the car.

They were parked at the end of the drive again. Under the tree.

“Yes, Miss. You go in now. Ten minutes later, I can put the car in the garage and enter the house.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“I gotta sit out here for twenty minutes, with this?”

“With what?” She squinted at him. What on earth was he talking about? They’d had a lovely meal, fun conversation, and thankfully, a less frenetic drive back because there was more traffic about.

“This…” He reached for her hand and pressed it over his groin.

She widened her eyes as her palm came into contact with a solid length of flesh pushing at the material of his trousers. “Oh…that.”

“Yeah, that, babe.” He sidled closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Not easy sitting next to you all evening and wondering…”

“Wondering what?”

“If you’re going to come across that hallway tonight and keep me company.” He kissed her, soft, peppering little touches of his lips.

“Do you want me to?”

He kind of growled. “You know damn well I do.”

She giggled. A wonderful feeling of being desired, of being female, of being wanted infused into her system. But she wasn’t that easy. Okay, maybe she was for Dean, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease him a little.

“I guess,” she said. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Ahh, you’re killing me.” He shifted on the seat, pushing his groin into her touch.

She gave his cock a squeeze through his jeans. Damn, feeling his arousal sent a rush of lust to her pussy. She wanted him, burying deep, fucking, taking her to that place again where nothing else mattered.

Pulling in a deep breath, she moved away and lifted her hand. “I should go.”

“Don’t.” He reached for her wrist. “I know it’s a bit cramped in here, but…”

She laughed. “Hey, maybe I’m not that sort of girl.”

“What? To do it in a car? Who are you kidding? I bet fucking in a Porsche is your fantasy.”

“Actually, it’s not.”

“So what is?” Through the darkness, his eyes sparkled naughtily.

“If you must know, doing it over an F1 car would hit the spot.”

“I like your style.” He pulled her close again.

She pushed his chest. “I meant I might not be the sort of girl to go all the way on a first date.”

“Oh, babe, we are so past the first date. That’s in the distance, left for dust. We sped away from that as if we were on the goddamn
autobahn
.”

Her breathing faltered. She knew what he meant. It did seem as if they were going fast. Or at least she was falling for him fast. She knew that much. “I should go. Try and sneak in.”

He released her, reluctantly, it seemed, as he slid upright and groaned. “Yeah, you go. I’ll sort myself out.”

“You’re a big boy. I’m sure you’ll cope.” She giggled then stepped from the car. She shut the door as quietly as she could.

Keeping to the shadows, she slunk up the driveway. A few leaves tickled her face. A branch scraped over her arm.