Driven by Desire Page 10

  She grinned and ran her hands over the warm, smooth steering wheel. She made it. She was actually there. One of only three women to compete in the Sparrow Hawk Cup in its entire twenty-two-year history. A legacy competitor; the daughter of a champion. She hadn’t been stopped by the dark mafia kingpin who dogged her every footstep, trying to chain her to his side. Hell, not only had she escaped from beneath his shadow, she’d taken his car with her.

  She opened her eyes, still smiling and glanced out the driver’s side window. The sun blinded her for a moment, before the shadow of a man stepped into the window, blocking it out. She shaded her eyes and looked up. She gasped, the smile melting from her lips. Soloman Hart stood staring down at her through the window, his dark eyes as icy cold as she had ever seen them. There was not a spark of warmth for the woman he professed to want with every fibre of his being.

  She. Was. So. Fucked.

  Riley stealthily double-checked to make sure the car was locked. About two seconds later he checked the handle to see if it would open. It did not. His eyes grew harder, never releasing hers. He lifted his hand and pointed at her, then at the door. She bit her lip and shook her head. She expected him to speak, but he didn’t. There was no point. He must have understood that she intended to race his car in the Sparrow Hawk, regardless of his commands. Just as she understood there would be consequences once he got his hands on her.

  For once in her life Riley wished she was a praying type of girl. Because the Lord’s Prayer seemed appropriate right about now, if only she knew the words. She was pretty sure what she was seeing in his eyes was something similar to what people saw right before he killed their asses. She had stolen his extremely rare 2.5-million-dollar car, lied about it and now intended to race it in a dangerous, illegal race he had expressly forbidden her from attending.

  Yup, totally fucked.

  She swallowed hard and turned her eyes straight ahead. A tall, black-haired woman wearing fuck-me heels, tight jeans and a bikini-top was holding a green starting flag high in the air. Engines revved all around her. Riley glanced toward Soloman and pumped the accelerator with her foot, feeling the raw power of the Koenigsegg rumble beneath her. He stepped away from the car, his eyes still on her. She couldn't help herself, the moment the flag dropped, she blew him a kiss and then floored his Koenigsegg off the line, leaving him in her dust.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Riley had about three minutes to enjoy her very decisive victory before all hell broke loose. One moment she was being tossed up in Wendell’s arms, showered in champagne, being offered sponsorship by a prestigious car manufacturer, praised on her hairpin turns by Jun-young, who came in third, and the next moment, she was torn rudely away from Wendell. She gasped as Wendell was thrown across the hood of the burning hot car, with Soloman’s hand tight around his neck.

  “You let her race my fucking car,” Soloman growled down at the other man. “You know how much danger she put herself in and you let her fucking race.”

  Riley realized right away Soloman meant to actually kill him when Wendell started choking and turning red. She wedged herself between the two men, pressing herself into Soloman as close as she could. He didn’t take his eyes off Wendell.

  “Soloman, no!” she yelled, but he refused to take his eyes off Wendell.

  She could see his powerful biceps flexing against his T-shirt and the tattoos rippling down his arm. Tears gathered in her eyes and she felt real fear as she maneuvered herself even closer against him, moulding her body against his and wrapping her arms around his throat. Her eyes met Roman's cold gaze over Soloman’s shoulder.

  “Help me!” she called out to Roman.

  He ignored her and turned his head to bark at someone else to stay back when they would have intervened. Riley could feel the fight draining from Wendell’s body as the oxygen left him. She reached up and grabbed Soloman’s face, pulling it down to hers and forcing him to meet her frantic gaze.

  “Please, Soloman,” she begged, tears bright in her chocolate eyes. “Don’t hurt him.”

  His face was set in hard, ruthless lines. His scarred lips an unrelenting slash of cold fury. She was positive he couldn't hear her when, after a moment, he dropped his forehead to hers. She felt a subtle relaxation in his body and knew he had loosened his fingers when she heard Wendell choke and wheeze behind her. She reached back and gripped her friend’s hand to assure herself he was still alive. His fingers twitched around hers.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Katie flying toward them, running as fast as she could on her four inch wedges, screaming her brother’s name. Since Dexter Pullman’s death, Katie and Wendell had become extremely family oriented and protective of each other. Roman caught her around the middle and held her tight against his chest while she kicked and screamed.

  “Look at me,” Soloman commanded, drawing Riley’s attention back to her own drama. She could feel the seething fury still surrounding his large frame, but he was attempting to put a leash on it. “Get in the fucking car now and I won't kill your friend.”

  “Don't... go…” Wendell rasped from behind her, his voice a harsh gasp.

  Soloman wrapped a thick arm around Riley’s waist, hauled her off Wendell’s body and into the heat of his own. Then he kicked Wendell off the car and into the dirt. When Wendell looked as though he would rise, Soloman kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling back into the dirt. Riley lunged forward, intent on getting to her friend, but Soloman held her so tight she knew there would be bruises on her arms.

  He lifted her up against his chest and spoke in her ear, “Get in the car and he lives.”

  Holding her by the waist with one strong arm, he took her hand in a hard grip with his other hand and guided it around his back. He forced her to feel the gun that was at his back. She gasped and went rigid against him, her eyes wide on Wendell who was rolling in the dirt choking.

  “Give me a reason to end him,” Soloman breathed in her ear, his jaw scraping against her ear and his breath brushing against her cheek. “I’ll do it right here in front of everyone. In front of his baby sister.”

  Riley’s eyes flickered to Katie who was sobbing in Roman's arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her knees had buckled and he was clearly holding her up in one strong arm while keeping an eye on the crowd of curious onlookers. Jun-young caught Riley’s eye and raised an eyebrow in question. She gave him a tiny shake of her head. She so didn't need anyone else to get involved in this mess.

  She turned to look at Soloman, her lips barely brushing his as she whispered, “I’ll go with you.”

  He nodded and pushed her away from the hood of the car with a hard hand at her waist. She stumbled back. He opened the passenger side door and pushed her down into the seat. Riley stared up at his cold, implacable face and shivered. As the door slammed down she knew it was closing on her independence. She defied Soloman Hart, despite his many warnings, and now she was about to pay the consequences.

  He got into the Koenigsegg with her and fired the engine. Someone pulled Wendell out of the way, thank god, because she was certain Soloman would’ve run over him if he was still laying in the dirt. She stared helplessly out the window as they sped away from what should have been her shining moment of victory. She wondered if she would even see the prize money or if Soloman would lock her up so tight she would never even hear the words Sparrow Hawk Cup again, let alone speak to the race organizers. She glanced sideways at his terrifyingly sinister visage and decided she would wait until later to ask him.

  ***

  After four solid hours of ignoring him, exhaustion from a long, adrenaline-fueled day finally won and Riley fell asleep. She sat slumped in her seat with her arm curled against the door and her head tucked in the curve. Her chestnut ponytail cascaded across the side of her face and over her chest, frustrating his efforts to watch her sleep as he drove. Her other hand was curled innocently in her lap, her black chipped nail polish facing him.

  He reached across the space separating
them and, as gently as possible, pulled the long curls of her hair aside so he could see her face as she slept. He smoothed the soft hair against her shoulder where it stayed, obedient to his wishes. Her plump lips were slightly parted against the curve of her slender fingers, where her head rested against the window.

  Fuck. The things he wanted to do to that mouth were so far from innocent. It was everything he could do not to pull the car over and give into the urge. Especially now that she had willingly handed herself over to him. He didn't even care that he’d coerced her into getting into the car. As far as he was concerned, she gave herself to him. In his world, he could now do whatever he wanted to with her. She belonged to him. And the savage in him wanted to fucking tear her to pieces in the best possible way.

  The rage he’d felt when he saw her in his car was indescribable. It was not something he’d ever felt before. When he did business, it was always with a cool head. When he killed, it was with icy calm. He did not make decisions without deliberation. But what he felt when he saw Riley take off down the side of the mountain in such a powerful, dangerous car, racing against men that would try to kill her on every curve, was complete and utter blackout rage.

  He couldn't kill the woman that put herself in the damn car, so he was going to fucking murder the next best person. The man that helped put her there. Wendell Pullman, her mechanic and wingman. He would have done it, too, without a moment’s remorse, if she hadn’t stood between them and begged him not to. Riley Bancroft now had the pleasure of being the only person on the damn planet to pull him back from a kill once he made up his mind.

  He glanced at her again, taking in the shadowy sweep of her long, dark lashes against her cheekbones. The smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose were beginning to show from time spent outdoors over the past several days. She also had more of a tan now. Soon they would arrive home and he would no longer have to deny himself access to this woman. He would fuck away the fury and bury the rage in that delicious body. She would finally belong to him in every way he’d imagined since first setting eyes on her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A chill breeze from the ocean played with the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Had she forgotten to close her bedroom window? Her seatbelt released and arms closed around her. She was lifted from comfortable warmth into the hardness of someone’s arms. A familiar and somewhat alarming masculine scent enveloped her. With a sigh and a frown, she forced herself to open her eyes and look at the person that dared interrupt her deep sleep. Soloman Hart looked down at her like the dark criminal overlord he was, desire clashing with triumph in his eyes.

  She wanted to punch him in the eye and show him exactly what she thought of his near kidnapping. But she chose to yawn instead. Maybe he would be less attracted to her if he saw the gaping inside of her mouth? He chuckled and shifted her in his arms, holding her against the side of his body with one arm while closing her door with the other. She took a moment to both marvel and despair at his easy strength. He was a large man and he filled those sleek, expensive suits out very nicely. But they definitely hid a musculature most people didn’t get to experience up close.

  Riley liked to think she was fit. Enough. Her favourite food groups were ice cream, bacon and orange juice. At least one of those was a fruit! Sort of. She hated working out with a passion and liked to tell people she would save them in case of zombie apocalypse by being the fastest speed walker in the group. Riley also had a bad tendency to forget to eat. She got that from her dad. A beautiful car wanders into the shop and bam! She’s in love, half-starved after two days of working on the babe and turning a tidy profit. The only thing that probably saved her from modern day scurvy was that shopping for Cilia forced her to shop for herself.

  She wasn’t going to be beating off Soloman with her unused muscles and nonexistent running skills any time soon. She was going to have to rely on her wits and the fact that he seemed to want to kill her a lot less than most other people that entered into his orbit. Riley tilted her head back and smiled shyly up at Soloman, gaining his surprised attention. Clearly, he’d been expecting some kind of fight from her since they were most definitely not in front of Riley’s apartment building. It was dark out, but she could see enough to recognize he was striding toward the front doors of a massive house.

  “I’m hungry,” she announced, fluttering her lashes at him and trying to look weak.

  She was actually hungry. But she also figured the kitchen wasn’t the bedroom and since he wasn’t looking at her any less lustfully after her gigantic yawn, she needed a new tactic. He nodded his head absently and shifted her once again to dig in his pocket for keys to the house. She crossed her arms awkwardly against his muscular chest and rolled her eyes.

  “Or you could put me down?” she suggested sarcastically.

  He ignored her, unlocked the door and carried her over the threshold. He quickly tapped in a ten-digit code to the alarm, disarming it. She gasped as the cold air conditioning hit her and all humour left her for the moment. It felt significant, entering his home in the middle of the night in his arms. As though he were a conquerer returning to the castle with his captured prize held tightly against him. She turned her face against him and shivered. His arms tightened around her.

  He didn’t bother turning on any lights as he strode with her toward the back of the house. Light from the moon shone through the windows as they passed, his shoes tapping against the dark marble flooring. He stopped abruptly and she realized they were in the kitchen. Gently, he set her on the counter next to a huge refrigerator. Without a word, he opened the door and started rifling through the contents.

  Riley glanced surreptitiously around, taking immediate stock of a back door to her left. Soloman was to her right with the fridge door open between them. She would have at least a tiny head start if she decided to make a break for it. She curled her fingers around the edge of the countertop and shifted her butt just a little further forward, her entire body tensing for flight.

  “You don't want to do that,” his voice rumbled from the fridge.

  Riley’s head snapped to the right and her mouth fell open. How did he know? Was she that predictable? She jumped when he slammed the door shut cutting the light off. He set containers down one at a time on the counter next to her. She couldn’t tell what was in them since there was so little light. She really hoped he knew, because she detested liver, asparagus and marmalade. She didn't care how badass he was. No way, no how, was she eating any of those three things.

  He went to the sink and washed his hands. Drying them off on a hand towel, he came back to where she was sitting. She’d pulled one of the containers into her lap and was toying with it when he took it from her hands. He removed the lid and pulled something out. She reached for it, but he pulled it away.

  “Open your mouth,” he said gruffly.

  “I can feed myself,” she complained, giving him a suspicious look and reaching for another container.

  He captured her wrist in his other hand and trapped it against her thigh. He took a step closer, swamping her with his large presence. Even sitting on the counter, he was still taller than her. His narrow hips and stomach pressed against her legs, keeping her immobile while he attempted to feed her. Her breath caught in her throat and she wished she could see his face in the shadows of the kitchen, but she could only see his silhouette.

  “I will take care of you from now on, including feeding you.” His voice rumbled through her.

  “That’s pretty creepy, dude,” she replied, flexing her hand under his. He responded by tightening his knuckles over hers.

  He sighed, the breath fanning across her face, and she found herself breathing in his subtle masculine scent as he leaned toward her. She really didn’t want to find him even remotely sexy, especially since she had been coerced into coming to his house in the middle of the night. And she knew exactly where he intended for this night to end. She wasn’t ready for that outcome yet. Not with someone like him. He
was too intense and he wanted too much from her.

  “You said you were hungry, Riley. Now eat or we go straight to bed,” he told her with a clear edge of impatience to his voice.

  Well that was blunt, she thought, blinking at her lack of options.

  Hoping the food was liberally laced with garlic, onions and whatever else might turn him off, she leaned forward the few inches that would bring her mouth to his fingers and tentatively took the offering. As soon as her lips touched his skin, the fingers of his other hand clenched, biting into her thigh. She felt the electric tension swirling around them and almost spat the food out. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth where his touch still burned against her lips.

  He had fed her a piece of chicken and it was delicious. She moaned slightly as she chewed and swallowed. With a sigh of satisfaction, she smiled and said, “More, please.”

  He was standing frozen against her, staring hard at her face. His long fingers continued to hold hers, wrapped around her thigh possessively. She frowned up at him and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.

  “That one bite didn’t really do it,” she told him slowly, as though she were explaining the obvious to a child. “I’m still hungry. Pretty sure even kidnappers have to feed their victims. Don’t make me go to the Human Rights Watch, buddy. I don’t think you'll like what they have to say to the likes of you.”

  He snapped out of his momentary trance and snorted down at her. Reaching for another piece of chicken he held it up. She opened her mouth expectantly, but before he placed it on her tongue, he said darkly, “Watch that sassy little mouth or I’ll turn you over and fuck you right here against the counter before we even make it to the bedroom. And I promise, if you piss me off to that point, only one of us will enjoy it. You’re treading a slippery slope, gorgeous. I haven’t forgotten about my car. Or that you took off from my club and ignored all of my summons. I simply bide my time.”