Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Really?” I exclaim, excited about the prospect of a woman in this egocentric field. “What’s her name?”
“Francesca Accardi. Look her up.”
“I will,” I say, making a mental note. I’ve got story ideas swirling through my head now of a female formula driver for my series.
Maeve’s phone dings and she pulls it out of her purse, frowning as she reads the screen. “Sorry… I have to make a call. It seems a press junket for tomorrow is going to be delayed.”
“No worries,” I assure her. After she steps off, I look around for Lex.
I find him still standing with the group skeet shooting and while I intend to check it out, I’m famished. I walk into one of the tents that has tables laden with food and grab a plate.
I’m halfway through the buffet, adding only one of each item that looks appealing, when I sense someone standing very close behind me.
“Enjoying the party?” Ronan asks, his voice smooth but with an undertone that makes me uneasy.
I whirl around, heart racing, and force a polite smile. “It’s lovely. Spencer really knows how to throw an event.”
Ronan steps closer, his eyes flicking over me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “You know, Posey, I’ve been thinking… you’ve been spending a lot of time with Lex and I’m trying to figure out why.”
I blink, taken aback by the unexpected comment. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not like the women he normally shags.”
I don’t know a lot of British slang, but I know that one. “Now wait a minute,” I say, completely incensed. “I’m not shagging Lex and even if I were, it’s none of your damn business.”
Ronan leers. “If you say so. But I’m thinking, he clearly knows something about you that I don’t.” His tone turns suggestive. “If you wanted to spend some time with me to get an even closer experience to what a formula driver is all about, you only need to ask.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, and not in a good way. There’s something predatory in his tone, something that makes me want to back away. But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled, so instead I go on the attack. I tap my finger to my chin, look upward as if I’m considering it, then pin my eyes on him. “Um… gross. I’ll pass.”
I don’t wait for his reply but instead set my plate on the table. I quickly exit the tent and run smack into Lex.
His hands move to my shoulders to steady me. “Whoa there. Where are you in a rush to?”
I resist the urge to see if Ronan followed me and instead say, “I was going to take you up on your offer to learn to shoot.”
A delighted smile lights up his face. “Really?”
“Yeah… I mean, looks like fun.”
“Have you ever shot a gun before?”
I stare at him pointedly. “Do you know what a Southern girl is?”
He grins, shaking his head. “I really don’t.”
“It means I know what an over-and-under double-barreled shotgun is, just as I know what a side-by-side is.”
Lex’s eyebrows rise. “I’m impressed. Let’s see what you got.” He then holds out his elbow and without overthinking it, I slip my hand into the crook. As we walk toward the range, I glance over my shoulder and see Ronan standing outside the tent, watching us thoughtfully.
For a fleeting second, I consider telling Lex about the encounter, that it left me a little uncomfortable, but I decide against it. I might be overreacting, but even if I’m not, I don’t want to cause waves between the guys. They’re teammates and it would serve no purpose to open this can of worms. I resolve myself to keep my eyes on the prize.
Eleven more days until the race in Bahrain and then I’ll have all the information I could ever need to write a kick-ass formula race romance series.
CHAPTER 12
Posey
It’s nearing nine p.m. when we make it back to Woking. I’m tired yet still exhilarated by such a fun afternoon and evening. Outside of the weird exchange with Ronan, I had one of the best times I’ve ever had. This little rural North Carolina girl could never have imagined a life where she sipped expensive champagne at a multimillionaire race team owner’s Cotswold mansion and rubbed elbows with racing’s elite.
But despite being immersed in a decadent world of riches and royalty—because yes, Spencer is royalty—I was surprised at how down-to-earth most everyone was. Oh, some people looked down their noses at the tagalong reporter, but for the most part, people were gracious and kind.
Even Spencer took time to show me around a portion of the estate. He showed me his stables after I confessed a lifelong love of horses. Growing up our neighbors had horses, and I was always allowed to ride them.