Faster Dirtier (Take Me...#5) (A Team Ferrelli Novel) (9 page)

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, reaching for my hand. “I thought
you were into this?” I skip out of his reach, crossing my arms tightly across
my chest.

“I thought I was too,” I tell him, blushing with real
embarrassment now, “Until now, that is. Enzo, level with me. You really don’t
know who I am? No one’s filled you in?”

“Oh god...” he mutters, shoving a hand through his hair. His
erection is still raging, and I can tell that he’s having trouble thinking
through his pent up lust. Too bad. “Look, have we already hooked up or
something?” he finally asks me. “I’m sorry if I don’t remember you.”

“Jesus, you sleep with that many women?” I ask, aghast. “But
no, as a matter of fact, we have
not
slept together. Nor
will we be
sleeping together.”

“Why?” he asks, sincerely shocked. “Because I don’t happen
to know your name? What am I supposed to do, memorize a guest list before every
party my sister throws?”

“Your sister,” I shoot back, outrage mounting. “Your sister
didn’t say a word about me to you? Not a single word about my coming to work
for Team Ferrelli.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on his gorgeous face. “Of
course,” he nods, understanding at last, “No wonder you got so upset. I should
have remembered, I’m sorry.”

“There we go,” I say, exasperated.

“Yeah. Now that you mention it, I definitely remember Siena
saying something about hiring a new assistant for the season. I should have put
two and two together.”

My jaw drops as I spin around to face Enzo. “
Assistant?
” I repeat, my
voice rippling with incredulity. “I’m not your sister’s new
assistant
, Enzo. I’m—”

“There you two are!” I hear Siena’s voice call. Her words
arrives on the wave of noise that spills out of the french doors as she opens
them onto the terrace. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys. Come on, I’m
about to tell everyone the news!”

As she steps out onto the patio, Siena looks between Enzo
and me, squared off across the space. She sees my flushed face, Enzo’s
glowering expression, and the broken cocktail glasses. I’m sure the scene
doesn’t look too good from where she’s standing.

“What’s going on out here?” she demands, planting a hand on
her hip. “Are you both OK, or what?”

“I’m fine. We’re fine,” I say hurriedly, not wanting to get
into the specifics of what’s gone down between me and Enzo.

“Well. Good,” Siena says, not at all convinced, “Because
it’s showtime.”

“Will someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” Enzo
asks angrily.

“What’s going on is that I’m about to grab that microphone
in there and announce our lineup for this season,” Siena tells her brother. “So
if you’re still interested in being a part of that lineup, I suggest that you
join me inside. Now.”

She turns on her heel and marches back into the villa. A
moment of silence hangs over me and Enzo, weighted with unsaid words.
Nervousness and indignation war for control of my senses as I shoot Enzo one
last look, giving him the opportunity to say something. But his jaw is clenched
shut, and I know that he’s too stubborn to level with me.

Fine
,
I think, turning away from him.
God
knows we’ll have plenty of time to work things out by the time the season
starts.

Without another word, I storm away from Enzo and follow
Siena back inside. I can feel Enzo hurry on my heels, but I dash ahead of him
into the crowd. I’m angry, and slighted, and totally reeling after what just
went down between us. In short, I have no idea what to make of all this, and no
time to figure it out, as Siena’s grabbing the mic from the DJ this very
moment.

“Good evening, everyone!” my beautiful boss smiles out into
the crowd. The guests press into the great room of Lazio villa, clapping and
cheering for Siena. She beams out at all of them, her perfect PR smile a thing
of beauty. “I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all for coming out
to celebrate with us tonight. It’s been too long since we’ve all come together
to let loose and have a little fun as a big, extended family. But though we all
hail from different countries and different leagues, that’s exactly what we
are. A family. I know that every single person in this room has supported me
and my family when we’ve needed it most, and I appreciate that more than I ever
say.”

Another round of applause goes up around the room, but I
can’t focus on all the bonhomie. I can feel Enzo’s dark eyes on me as I work my
way further into the crowd, beyond his reach. Little by little, I put distance
between us as Siena barrels ahead with her speech.

“Now, I know that all sounds well and good during the
offseason,” she says, to knowing chuckles, “But I want you all to know that
Team Ferrelli’s commitment to improving Formula One through inclusion and
diversity is not going to dwindle away when the next season begins.”

My pulse quickens as I dart through the crowd. Oh god, she’s
about to launch into her big announcement about me—with Enzo still none the
wiser. My feet refuse to move another inch as I turn my face toward my new boss
and listen, helplessly, as she goes on.

“By celebrating our differences, we can become a stronger
community,” Siena presses on, her voice passionate and stirring. “Our unique
qualities can inspire and inform those around us. And that’s exactly what Team
Ferrelli means to do this season. Inspire the rest of the world to be more
thoughtful, more hopeful, more brave.”

I feel a strong hand close around my wrist and look up,
startled, at Enzo’s beautiful face hovering just inches from mine.

“What are you doing, running away like that?” he asks,
baffled. “What do I have to do to get you to talk to me, return your glass
slipper?”

“I’m just...This is all so much...” I whisper, my head
swimming.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Enzo says, laying his hands on my
trembling shoulders. “Just take a deep breath. Everything’s fine.”

“You’re probably wondering what the hell I’m talking about
with all of this, right?” Siena asks with a smile. “Well, without further adieu,
let me introduce the two Team Ferrelli drivers that I’m most excited about this
year. The first is a very familiar face, to me and all of you, but the second
is new to our team, and the sport at large. Ladies and gentlemen, here they
are—Enzo Lazio and Ainsley Vaughn!”

The crowd erupts around us as a spotlight swings our way.
Enzo and I are lit up for all to see, standing side by side in the crowd in the
midst of our little spat. I watch as Enzo’s face breaks into the perfect
camera-ready smile, and try to grin with half his enthusiasm. His eyes cast
about the crowd, searching for something. Or someone.

Oh my god, I think to myself, he’s looking for Ainsley
Vaughn. He still doesn’t know.

“Come on up here, you two!” Siena smiles, waving us over
from the stage.

Enzo’s perfect smile wavers just a bit at her words. I can
see the gears spinning wildly in his head as he follows Siena’s gaze and finds
himself staring straight at me. At long last, comprehension blooms in those
bottomless brown eyes as he takes me in.

“Hey teammate,” I murmur beneath the cheers of the crowd,
“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come on, you guys!” Siena insists, her words just a little
sharper now. “I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Enzo snaps out of his baffled reverie and strides away through
the crowd, leaving me to scamper along in his wake. I hurry after him as fast
as I can as he vaults onto the stage, a maneuver that’s quite impossible in
three inch heels. Looking out at all of the assembled guests, I struggle to
stay composed. The hot stage lights, the dizzying array of people, and of
course the heated encounter with Enzo on the patio have me reeling.

“You all know my incomparable big brother, of course,” Siena
says, rolling her eyes with playful exasperation. “Our reining champ and lead
driver, Enzo Lazio!” 

Enzo’s smile widens as the crowd goes nuts for him. He’s
every inch the cool customer, not the least bit rattled. But then, I guess he’s
been doing this for a long time.

“But let me introduce you to someone new,” Siena says, laying
a hand on my shoulder. “Everyone, this is Ainsley Vaughn. Ace, as she’s known
in the F3 circuit. This season, Ace will become Team Ferrelli’s first-ever
affiliated female driver!”

Excited gasps go up around the room at Siena’s announcement.
Every eye in the place is on me. By rights, I should be bursting into tears or
fainting or something. But instead, I feel my spine turning to steel, my eyes
focusing. I draw myself up to my fullest height and hold my head high. I didn’t
come all this way for nothing, after all. I’m here to kick ass, take names, and
inspire an entire sport to be better than it is. And one ill-fated hookup with
my teammate isn’t going to derail that. I won’t let it.

“Enzo here is going be mentoring Ace as we prepare for next
season,” Siena says, “And Ace will, in the meantime, be helping us develop
strategies and technologies to make our team even stronger. “So, let’s hear if
for our new dynamic duo!”

As if on cue, Enzo and I turn to face each other across the
stage. His eyes are gleaming and we step forward as a unit, our smiles wide.
It’s like we’re locked in a face-off, each challenging the other to step up and
do this thing. Each fully aware of how insane the situation really is behind
the scenes.
Two can play at
this game, Lazio,
I think to myself, as we turn out to face the roaring
crowd.

As if reading my mind, Enzo raises a mighty arm and claps me
hard on the shoulder, knocking me off balance just a hair. I glance up at him
sharply and watch his smile stretch wider.

“Smile kid,” he murmurs so that only I can hear. “The world
is watching.”

Chapter Eight

“A little fucking warning would have been nice,” Enzo
growls, hours later. It’s early morning by now, and all the party guests have
departed. My furious teammate paces back and forth across the great room,
laying into the unflappable Siena as I look on.

“What are you talking about, Enzo?” Siena asks, exasperated.
“We’ve been talking about bringing on an F3 driver for you to personally mentor
since last season!”

“That’s not what I mean!” Enzo spits back in return. “I mean
that you could have given me some kind of warning about
her
.”

Enzo and Siena, as well as Harrison and Camilla, who’ve been
drafted as the referees in this sibling squabble, look over at me sharply.

“Siena,” I say, trying like hell to keep my voice even. “Did
you, uh, forget to mention to Enzo that I was a woman?”

“Of course not!” she exclaims, but her expression betrays
her. “I’m sure that I told him everything about you. Your times, your racing
record—”

“Leaving out one very important detail,” Enzo pounces. “You
told me that a hot shot American kid named Ainsley ‘Ace’ Vaughn was going to be
joining the team. You didn’t say shit about the fact that
Ace
was a
girl
. For fuck’s sake,
Ainsley is a dude’s name!”

“It’s unisex,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“Whatever!” Enzo cries, “The point is, I was blindsided up
there. I need to be in the know about team decisions, Siena.”

“Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for three
seconds and paid attention to anything I say, I’d bother letting you in on team
business,” Siena replies heatedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Enzo snaps back, whirling
around to face his sister.

I can’t help but notice how alive and poised his entire body
is right now. His fists are clenched at his sides, his jaw pulses with tension,
and every muscle is coiled with pent-up energy. He looks ready for a fight, or
a good fuck, maybe.

Focus Ace
,
I chide myself. The only reason he’s worked up is because he’s pissed about me
being a girl, after all.

“It’s no secret that you haven’t really been all there
lately, Enzo,” Siena says, taking a fearless step toward her seething brother.
“Ever since Dad passed away, you’ve only been out for yourself. And I get it. I
do. You’ve needed to do some soul searching, get yourself back on track. But
enough is enough, already. You want to be a part of this team, make important
decisions, the whole thing? Fine. But you’ve got to back that up with action. I
have to know I can count on you to be here for the team, not off gallivanting
across the Himalayas.”

“I was hiking the Alps. Not the Himalayas,” Enzo says
through gritted teeth. Though he still looks mad as hell, I can tell that
Siena’s gotten through to him.

“All the same,” Siena says coolly, “We’re heading into a
brand new season. It’s the perfect opportunity for a clean slate. What do you
say, Enzo?”

“I say, this team is my entire life,” Enzo says, forcing
deep breaths into his lungs. “And I’ll be damned if I’m not going to have a
hand in shaping its future.”

“Now, that sounds much better to me,” Camilla says in her
airy voice, laying a hand on each of her children’s shoulders. “I know you felt
taken off guard by Siena’s announcement this evening Enzo, but let’s call it
water under the bridge. I’m sure that’s what Ainsley would prefer, too. Isn’t
it, Ainsley?”

Four pairs of eyes swing my way yet again. “Oh, is it my
turn to speak now?” I ask, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. “I
thought I’d just stand here like a good little girl and let you all decide what
to do with me.”

“I’m sorry Ace,” Siena says, hurrying over to me. “I totally
dropped the ball on this. I was so wrapped up with trying to get you up to
speed that I didn’t even think about Enzo.”

“No shit,” he mutters, shoving a hand through his black
hair.

“You didn’t think to ask him whether or not he’d have a
problem with the fact that I’m a chick?” I ask her incredulously.

“I don’t give a shit that you’re a chick,” Enzo snaps.

“No?” I scoff, “Would you be this upset if it turned out you
were mentoring some twenty-year-old dude?”

“If I wasn’t properly informed about it, then yes,” he says,
digging in his heels.

“With all due respect, mentor of mine,” I shoot back, “I
call bullshit.”

Harrison lets out a low whistle as Enzo’s face goes beet red.
Wow. This guy is not used to being spoken to frankly, is he? Well, that’s just
too damn bad. I grew up with a headstrong man of my own—Alec was as stubborn
and opinionated as they come. I’m not afraid to go toe-to-toe with someone
twice my size. Even if that someone is Enzo Lazio.

“Fine,” Enzo finally growls, advancing toward me across the
room. “You got me. I
do
care that you’re a woman. I don’t want to be wrapped up with some publicity
stunt of Siena’s devising. It wouldn’t be good for the team’s morale. Or my
reputation.”

“I assure you, Enzo,” I say, forcing my voice to remain
even, “That my being here is not just a publicity stunt. Sure, Siena came to
scout me because she’s looking to make the team more inclusive. But do you
honestly think she would have brought me on board if I couldn’t drive? She
cares about this team just as much as you do. She’d never jeopardize its
standing just for the sake of a good photo op.”

Enzo jaw pulses again as he considers what I’ve said. His
eyes linger on my face, as if he’s trying to figure out the catch. But there’s
no catch. I’m here to be a part of this team. End of story. Or at least, it
should be.

“Well then,” Enzo finally says, crossing his muscled arms
across his chest. I can barely keep from staring as his fine suit glances
against his cut body, accommodating and flattering his already impeccable form.
“I want to see what you can do. On the track.”

“By all means,” I reply, tossing my hair confidently over my
shoulder. “Just tell me when and where.”

“Tomorrow. First thing,” he says, matching me stroke for
stroke. “I’ll take you over to the Ferrelli test track and you can try and
prove to me that you really belong here.”

“I won’t try and prove that,” I reply, “I
will
prove that. To you and
anyone else who doubts that a girl can hold her own behind the wheel.”

“I certainly hope you can,” Enzo says, taking a swinging
step toward me. “Because if I’m not convinced by what I see tomorrow, you won’t
see hide or hair of me all season. I’m not going to waste my time mentoring
someone without any real potential.”

“Well, if I run into any aspiring F1 drivers with that
particular deficit, I’ll be sure to tell them not to call you,” I smile gamely.
“See you in the morning,
Professor
Lazio.”

I can hear Siena and Harrison laughing to themselves as I
turn on my heel and make my grand exit for the night. Even though I’m trying
like hell to seem cool and composed, my heart is racing faster than any car
I’ve ever driven. It’ll just be me and Enzo at the track tomorrow.

Alone.

How I’m going to sleep a wink tonight knowing that is beyond
me.

Before I know it, the sun has cracked over the horizon once
again. Time to do this thing. I spring out of bed at the sound of my alarm and
throw on my favorite jeans, a white cotton tank, a bomber jacket I bought at a
thrift store in Brooklyn, and my worn-out Chuck Taylor’s. Maybe Enzo will be
able to take me more seriously in street clothes than an evening gown, though
it’s his damn problem either way. I shouldn’t have to dress myself down to be
taken seriously by anyone. With that in mind, I swipe on some mascara and vampy
lipstick, mixing masculine and feminine touches into my look.

Just as I’m giving my hair a good tousle, I hear the front
door of the guest house open down below. I peek around the bedroom door and
spot an early morning visitor striding across the threshold. My heart nearly
bulldozes through my ribcage as I catch a glimpse of Enzo in my new home. Not
only is being alone with him a thrill in and of itself, but he’s looking
super
fine this morning.

Our outfits of choice are not that dissimilar, as a matter
of fact. Enzo’s rocking insanely well-fitted jeans in a dark blue wash, a
simple white tee shirt, and a worn leather jacket. His black stubble is just a
bit more pronounced this morning, and I can even see some of his tattoos
peeking out from under his clothes. Usually, his ink is obscured by a racing
jumpsuit or
actual
suit, but today I can see the piece that arches across his chest: the single
word “Ferrelli”.

Of course.

“You could try knocking,” I say from the second story
landing, planting a hand on my hip.

His vibrant eyes swing up my way, and I have to stifle a
gasp. Glowing there in his gaze is the same desire and intensity he showed me
last night on the balcony, before he knew who I really was.

“It’s my house, Ace. I don’t have to knock,” he informs me,
plucking a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket.

“Sure, but you still
could
,
next time,” I say pointedly.

“Is there going to be a next time?” Enzo asks, “You think
I’ll see you again after today, Miss Vaughn?”

My cheeks flame red as he toys with me. “It’s Ace. Not Miss
Vaughn,” I say, refusing to take his bait.

“I thought I was Professor Lazio to you?” he shoots back. “I
was just trying to be cordial. As your esteemed teacher, and all.”

A bark of laughter escapes my throat. “Somehow, I sense that
being cordial doesn’t exactly come naturally to you.”

“You’ve got that right,” Enzo replies, slipping a cigarette
between his lips. Those full, soft lips that caressed mine just hours ago. “I’m
afraid the only two things that come naturally to me,” he continues, “Are
driving and fucking.”

It takes every ounce of control in my body not to throw
myself at him right then and there. I’ve never been turned on by the whole
don’t-give-a-fuck, bad boy thing. But Enzo’s got that vibe down pat, and good
lord
if it isn’t working
for me right now. 

“I know you’ve already seen my skills behind the wheel,” he
presses on, relishing this little game of his, “And I would have demonstrated that
other skill set last night, if we hadn’t been interrupted.”

He’s trying to kill me, this one.

“Interrupted by your realization that we’re actually
teammates, you mean?” I shoot back, refusing to let him get the last word.
“Don’t you think that would have put a damper on things?”

“You tell me,” he says, raking those dark eyes along my
body. “Do you have some policy against sleeping with coworkers?”

“Not necessarily,” I reply without missing a beat. “But I do
have a policy against sleeping with chest-pounding, sexist assholes.”

To my shock and delight, he actually seems taken off guard
by my comeback. I give myself a mental pat on the back for landing a good punch
in this war of words we’ve got going on between us.

“I am not a sexist,” he tells me, act dropped completely.
“And I resent that.”

“Well,” I sigh, all but skipping down the steps toward him.
“Looks like we’ve both got something to prove today, now don’t we, Professor?”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks, planting a firm hand on the
doorframe just as I’m about to pass through. The sudden obstruction makes me
take a step back, slamming right into his hard, sculpted body. His other arm
swoops around the small of my back, and all of a sudden I’m back in Enzo
Lazio’s irresistible embrace.

“Sure is,” I manage to breathe, planting my hands on his
perfect abs.

“Then challenge accepted,” he growls, lowering his lips
slowly toward mine.

His mouth must be magnetic or something. Because despite my
being pretty damn sure that getting physical with Enzo again would be a
terrible idea, I can’t keep my face from tilting up to meet his. My every sense
is entranced by the closeness of him, and I feel my entire body responding to
his touch. His lips are just about to collide with mine when he abruptly steps
away, leaving me standing on my own two feet once more—baffled and more than a
little aroused.