“I promise I won’t take you any faster than I did Jeremy,” he told her. “And you just saw for yourself that he didn’t come to any harm.”
Another easy promise. There was a challenge there, too. And for a moment of pure insanity, she wanted to take the dare, feel the exhilaration, inhale it. She wanted to go fast, feel the wind beating her face, feel her blood rushing wildly through her veins.
But she was not insane.
Safe. She needed to keep everyone safe. Not only Jeremy, but herself, too. Just because she might want something didn’t mean she could have it. Not if it was something that was bad for her or for Jeremy.
Unfortunately, the best refusal she could come up with in the face of both of them looking at her so expectantly was, “I’m wearing a skirt. There’s no way I can get down into that seat.” But even as she said it, a part of her—a really big part—wanted to take what he offered.
Just once, she wanted to close her eyes and race with the wind.
“I’ll help you.” Will held out his hand.
“It’s fun, Harper.” Jeremy had to add his two cents.
“Once around,” Will said, his voice low, his gaze deep, his hand still held out to her as if he had no doubt she’d eventually agree. “That’s all it will be. A fast ride that you’re going to love. I promise. Once around,” he said again, before smiling and adding, “Unless you want more.”
As if he’d known how close to the edge she already was, his coaxing words had her falling right into his blue gaze, like a cliff diver hurtling down to water as smooth as glass.
For the first time in forever, Harper wanted to forget about what was bad for her and just do what felt good. Which was why she finally said, “I’ll go with you for one turn around the runway.” She made sure to add as a reminder for them both, “But I won’t be wanting more than that.”
Only, she wasn’t sure he believed it any more than she did.
CHAPTER THREE
Oh yes, Will Franconi was dangerous. Extremely dangerous as he drew her to the passenger side of the car and her stomach fluttered with the hand-to-hand contact.
Harper hadn’t dated in over a year, ever since she’d realized that she was an easy target. Not only for men who wanted to get at her brother’s trust fund, but also because after so many years of working to take care of herself and Jeremy, she hadn’t had much time left over to nurture her other relationships. First she’d become involved with a man who wanted Jeremy’s money but not Jeremy. Why can’t you just send him to a home for people like him? he’d said. And then she’d rebounded into a relationship with a guy who had sworn he would always be there for her and Jeremy—at least until he’d found a far lower-maintenance woman. Jeremy’s heart had been broken when her boyfriend no longer came around to see him.
After that, Harper had decided love and marriage simply weren’t in the cards for her.
And that was okay. Because, honestly, she wanted to know for sure that Jeremy wasn’t going to be hurt by anyone else, rather than risk dating again.
Not that getting in the car with Will was akin to dating him, of course. She couldn’t imagine what a rich playboy like him would want with a completely ordinary woman like her. It was just that she hadn’t been this close to a good-looking man in a very long time. That had to explain why her heart was pounding hard and her skin felt flushed.
Will put her hand on the roll bar. “Hold on tight right here.”
Everything he said seemed to have a double meaning, turning something ordinary into something sexual. But she knew it had to be her sex-starved brain adding the extra meaning.
She lifted her skirt slightly to step inside, then slid down into the leather seat. Picking up the ends of the seat belt, she looked at them, unsure how the contraption worked.
“It’s a five-point racing harness,” Will explained as he got into the driver’s seat beside her. “Normally it would come up between your legs and down over your shoulders, but I think we can skip the leg harness for you today, given that you didn’t come dressed to drive in a race car.”
When she started fumbling with the hooks and levers on the harness, he said, “Let me help you.”
The next thing she knew, he was settling a strap over her shoulder, his fingers brushing her collarbone as he brought it down across her chest. Thrill bumps raced across her skin with the near contact. She inhaled his scent—shampoo and soap and very sexy male—and her body tingled. Pulling the harness down to her lap, he flicked the latch closed with a snap, and she felt the pressure of his touch just below her belly. Low enough—and intimately enough—that her pulse rate shot up.