Revving Her Up (3 page)

And the other parts and other times were what wound her so tight she needed to escape to the mountains of Virginia. He’d learned the hard way not to get involved with a woman like that. So why did he feel the urge to kiss the frown off her lips?

What would she do if he leaned over and kissed her? The thought sent a shot of lust through his veins. He wrapped his fingers more firmly around the stick to steady himself. A soft sigh emerged from Sarah’s lips and a pink flush stole across her chest and neck. Her gaze seemed to be focused on his hand on the gearshift.

What was she thinking?

They approached the summit of the last hill before his home. “Almost there,” he said.

And not a moment too soon.

Sunlight flooded the truck’s cab as the vehicle crested the hill. Sarah dragged her gaze away from Cole’s hand on the gearshift and closed her eyes to rein in her erotic thoughts.

Holy shit, this man was potent. She’d met him an hour ago and already her thong was damp. She’d never reacted this way to a man before.

Could a pit stop with a small-town mechanic be the cure she was seeking? How bizarre would that be?

The doctor had prescribed relaxation. Unfortunately, that damned phone call had reminded her of what she was trying to escape on this trip. She sighed. Cole had asked her if she liked her work. Up until six months ago her answer would have been an emphatic yes. Then she’d been assigned a new associate to mentor. Was it any coincidence that her problems had started then? Rolling her shoulders, she pushed the thoughts away.
Relax.

She opened her eyes. The road curved and Cole accelerated through the turn effortlessly. He drove the big truck with such finesse that it might as well have been her Porsche. If he could handle a woman the way he handled his truck… She flicked a glance at his hands now firm on the wheel. A shiver ran through her looking at them, imagining them going around her curves.

Good God, she was obsessed with the man’s hands.

She turned toward the passenger window and caught her breath. The road descended into a wooded valley filled with a shimmering blue lake. A huge lodge with a high, peaked roof stood on the shore closest to them, its wood and stone façade blending with the forest. Multiple chimneys stretched toward the canopy, and tall windows reflected the trees and the clear blue sky. As they approached, Sarah could see a redwood deck wrapping from the front of the house to the back and a lush green lawn that led to the water’s edge.

If the spa is half as peaceful or luxurious as this, my troubles will be over.
“Wouldn’t you love to stay there?” she asked with a sigh.

“I do. Regularly.”

“Really?” It seemed a bit upscale for a mechanic.

He laughed. “Of course. I live there. That’s my house.”

“That’s your place?” Her jaw dropped and she looked from the house to the man next to her and back again. To the house. Back to the man. She tried to connect the dots before her into some coherent image, but the edges kept blurring.

This was the house of a mechanic?

Chapter Four

Cole drove past the mansion—might as well call a spade a spade—and pulled onto a brick pad much too big to be called a driveway. It was as wide as the four-car garage behind it and long enough to fit a tractor-trailer. He got out of the truck. By the time Sarah had pulled herself together and unclipped her seatbelt, he was opening her door.

Sarah felt a flutter near her heart before she caught herself. It was that Southern thing again. He would do it for any woman. “Thanks, but I got it,” she said before he could reach for her. Cole nodded and stepped out of her way. She scooted to the edge of the seat, took a breath and hopped down. Her ankle wobbled but she managed to remain on her feet.

Pride somewhat intact, she preceded Cole down the brick path that led to the front door. Was he watching her? Curious, she put an extra wiggle in her walk just in case and thought she heard a sharp intake of breath.

Could this detour be useful after all? He wasn’t her usual type, but she couldn’t deny that he turned her on in a big way. Maybe this guy was the jump-start she needed to get herself back on track. She could solve her little problem before she even got to the spa. That would be convenient.

She reached the door and stepped aside to give Cole access to the lock. Instead of pulling out keys, he turned the knob and the door swung open.

“You don’t lock it?” she asked, incredulous.

“No need.”

She snorted. “If I did that in Manhattan, my place would be stripped clean in minutes.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow, wondering what else he’d heard about New Yorkers, but he didn’t elaborate. Sarah slipped past and her shoulder brushed against Cole’s. A spark of desire leapt between them, zipping along Sarah’s skin. She thought she saw a muscle tick in his jaw.

Did he feel it too?

Wiping her damp palms on her coat, Sarah stepped into a large foyer with a cathedral ceiling. A combined living and dining area with a massive stone fireplace lay straight ahead. The kitchen was off to the right, and the foot of a staircase was visible to the left. The air smelled pleasantly of pine and wood smoke, reminding her of a ski lodge. Hell, this house was as luxurious as any of the places she visited in Aspen, only more comfortable. The perfect place to get cozy with her companion.

The sound of keys hitting the table was followed by the click of the front door.

“Nice place,” she said over her shoulder. “You—” Sarah felt the whisper of a touch brush the side of her neck. Oh yeah, they were on the same page. The one that read “they fell into each other’s arms…”

Anticipation flared, making her giddy. Her purse slid down her arm, landing on the floor with a soft thump. She started to lean back, eager to feel his strong, solid body against hers. But instead of sliding down to embrace her, his hands slipped under the neckline of her coat.

He wasn’t coming on to her. He was taking her coat like the good Southern gentleman he was.

Face heating, she shrugged the garment off, hoping to cover her gaffe. It slipped down to her elbows, but before it could slide off completely Cole stepped in close. He pulled the garment behind her, trapping her arms at her sides. A strange thrill raced down her spine.

“I’m glad you like it.”

His mouth was so close that his breath tickled her ear. Sarah felt her hair stir. “You seem a little…warm, darlin’. Can I get you anything? Perhaps a drink to cool you off?”

She was past warm. This man made her hot. Her whole body tingled with awareness. Her breasts were heavy with need. Sarah knew exactly what she wanted and it wasn’t a drink. She shook her head.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to make your visit more…comfortable let me know.”

“Oh, I will.”

His low chuckle resonated deep in her womb. “I see. You’re the kind of woman who asks for what she wants—and expects to get it. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Darlin’
. She nodded, melting inside. She knew what she wanted. Him. Now.

Her coat slipped off and cool air fanned her cheek as Cole stepped back. “You know what they say. Good things come to those who wait.”

What the hell? Sarah spun around, but Cole was already headed toward the kitchen with her coat over his arm.

“The tow truck has to take it slow on these roads, so Mike might be a while. Are you sure I can’t get you something? A beer?” His voice was smooth. As if he hadn’t just caressed her ear with his breath. Her neck with his fingers.

Sarah cleared her throat, trying to rein in her rampant desire. She didn’t know what he was playing at, but if he could be calm so could she. “Do you have any light beer?” she asked, proud that her voice sounded close to normal in spite of the fact that her body trembled.

Cole stuck his head through the kitchen’s pass-through window, his raised eyebrows saying
are you kidding?
more effectively than words. “How about some white wine? It’s already chilled.”

“Sure. That would be great.”

What kind of snobbery was that? So she liked light beer. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue when he turned away.

The clink of glass was followed by the sound of liquid being poured. She wandered into the living room, her heels sinking into the soft moss green carpet. Framed photographs covered much of the walls, but she was too distracted to see the images.

Cole approached with a dark brown beer bottle in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. When he handed her the glass their fingers touched. She steadied hers with effort. She was about to take a sip when Cole raised his bottle in a toast. “To revving your engine and fixing what ails you.”

His words echoed her plan precisely. But was he going to get with the program or not?

Sarah took a sip of the wine. It was good. Very good. Crisp and dry, the way she liked it.

Luxurious house. Good wine. The man was full of surprises. As if to prove her point, he stepped forward, so close that she had to tilt her head all the way back to look in his face. Her body reacted instantly, every nerve going on high alert.

Was he going to kiss her?

He bent his head. Pleasure shimmered through her and her knees almost buckled. She closed her eyes—

—and nearly jumped out of her skin when a horn blasted outside. Cole put a hand on her arms to steady her.

“That’d be Mike.” He released her and stepped back. Her body swayed forward, drawn to his like a lodestone to the north. The horn sounded again. She opened her eyes and muttered a curse under her breath.

“I’ll go tend to your car.”

His voice was even, but Sarah caught him shifting from foot to foot. Adjusting the sudden tightness in the front of his jeans? She wasn’t the only one affected by their almost-kiss regardless of how cool he acted.

He headed down a hallway waving an arm toward the living room. “Make yourself at home. Shouldn’t take long.”

She watched his beautiful behind until he disappeared through a heavy door at the end, then finished her wine in a single gulp.

What the hell had just happened?

Cole closed the door to the garage behind him and took a deep breath. What had he been doing back there? After Natalie, he’d put that world behind him and resolved to stay away from women like that, but here he was hitting on the first city slicker to drive into town.

Sharp beeps sounded from outside as Mike backed the tow truck into the drive. Cole hit a switch on the wall and the garage’s door started to rise, bringing the Porsche into view. Why had he agreed to help again? Austin would have understood if Cole had said he was too busy. The racing season was starting in a couple of weeks and he had better things to do than fix a damned sports car.

Then he had to offer his own lift. Like she wasn’t dangerous enough to his sanity in public.

Mike lowered the Porsche to the ground and ran around to unhook it from the truck’s cable. Cole could have offered to help but the other man seemed to have it under control. Besides, this was probably the closest Mike had ever been to a Porsche—why spoil the man’s fun?

Mike drove the car over the waiting lift, got out and handed Cole the keys. “Nice car, eh? Never thought I’d like one of these foreign jobs, but I got to admit it feels pretty good.” He gestured at the racecars that filled two of the other bays. “Not as nice as those, of course, but not too bad.”

“No, not too bad.”

Cole bit back a smile and popped the trunk, which was in the front on a Porsche. He pulled out the pair of matching travel bags sitting there. After closing the trunk, he set the bags under a table and nodded to Mike, who flipped a switch on the wall behind him. The Porsche rose into the air.

Mike stepped away from the moving car and looked around the shop. “Man, you must be busy. Sure was nice of you to bring her car out here.” He looked back at the Porsche. “I hope she appreciates it.”

Cole snorted softly. She appreciated it all right. Cole hadn’t missed the way Sarah’s face had lit up when she saw his house. He shook his head. It always came down to money with women like that. Well, he’d learned his lesson—the next woman he got involved with was going to accept all parts of him, racing, Rapture and all.

“That one’s a looker, eh?” Mike asked and for a moment Cole wasn’t sure if he meant the car or its driver. But the next sentence cleared up his confusion. “Reminds me of that babe you brought around a while back. What was her name?”

“Natalie,” he said between clenched teeth, then forced himself to relax. It wasn’t Mike’s fault he had a weakness for stuck-up city girls.

“She was hot but not too friendly. Didn’t like racing neither,” he added and looked up at the Porsche. Clearly, anyone who didn’t like racing was not worth discussing in Mike’s book.

Cole tried to imagine Sarah at a racetrack, surrounded by beer-swigging rednecks and big-haired biker chicks. He snorted.
Yeah, right.
Natalie had loved the money racing brought in, but looked down her nose at racing fans and even the drivers themselves. So what if most of them had never gone to college? Not everyone needed a piece of paper to prove they were good at something.