3

Mira tugged at the hem of her charcoal-gray sheath dress. Was it too short? Maybe she should have worn pants. Something serious and professional and—

The restaurant door opened and Simone came into the vestibule with Violet right behind her.

“Simone, hi again,” Mira said.

The older blond woman, looking smooth as silk in head-to-toe ivory, smiled. “Already hard at work, Mira?”

“I wanted to start putting names to faces. Pen said I need to know every person in the company personally.”

Simone gave a subtle roll of her eyes on her way past. “That certainly sounds like something Pen would say.”

“Finally,” Violet said. “Someone at one of these things I actually want to talk to. Save you a seat inside?”

Violet had ended up taking her around the rest of the factory that afternoon, and they’d had a good time together. The past few years had been pretty isolating, by Mira’s own choice, but she’d still been lonely. Spending all your free time with your mother was just sad. Hanging out with someone her own age might be fun.

“Sure thing. I’ll be in soon.”

After Violet had gone through, Mira pulled out her cheat sheet of dinner guests to see who was still missing. Just then the front door opened, bringing in a gust of cold night air.

“Hello, again.”

Her heart sank. Him .

When she looked up, the door was closing behind him, and he was tugging off his thin leather driving gloves with his teeth as he peered down at her.

She took a deep breath. “Good, you finally made it. We’ve got a private room in back. It’s just through there and to the right.”

He shrugged his expensive leather jacket off with sensuous, nearly feline grace. Underneath, he wore all black, a dress shirt open at the neck and slim-fitting trousers. Uff … even out of his racing uniform he was so beautiful. His hair was an artless riot of dark waves that probably always looked that good with minimal effort. She tried her best to keep her eyes away from his mouth. Those lips were sinfully pretty.

“Mira. It’s Mira, right?”

She jerked her gaze back up to his eyes. “Yeah?” she said cautiously.

Slinging the jacket over one arm and stuffing his hands in his pockets, he leaned back on his heels. “You caught me in the middle of something at the track today. We didn’t get a chance to talk.”

“Talk?”

He took a step closer and a slow, wicked grin unfurled across his face. “To get to know each other a little better.”

He was deadly. Yeah, he was aggressive and overconfident and brash, but just being near someone so … passionate was kind of exhilarating. He made her feel … alive—some combination of nerves and excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time. And she honestly couldn’t tell if it was his driving that made her feel like that or just … him .

“I didn’t realize we needed to get to know each other,” she said slowly, feeling her way through his conversation. She thought she was getting a vibe from him, but it might just be in her imagination. He was probably like this with everyone. Guys like him usually were.

He took a step closer to her and her whole body went on alert. Well, she was human. There were very few people who would not respond to the looming presence of someone like Will Hawley. There was just so much of him, and it was all so hot and so close, and he smelled really, really good.

“Listen,” he said lowly. His posh English accent slid slowly over her like melted chocolate over ice cream. “These sorts of dinners tend to be a little dull, but they never go very late. Why don’t we grab a drink afterward? Let me welcome you to the team properly.”

And there it was. Her instincts weren’t wrong. There was no question in her mind that welcoming her properly would involve a lot more than drinks. Her nerves fired. Part of her wanted to know what would happen if she said yes, and for one split second, she found herself leaning in to him, closer to that gorgeous face, that smooth-as-silk accent, that delicious scent …

No .

Not this time. Mira pulled back and managed to mumble, “I have a lot of work to do.”

His voice dropped into a timbre that had her hands curling into fists. “Tonight? Really?”

She didn’t mean to look at his mouth, but somehow her eyes snagged on those lips as they curled into a smile, and she imagined what it would feel like to—

She took a hasty step back. “We’d better—um … they’re waiting for us.”

She turned, intending to head into the restaurant and far away from him, but then she felt it … his hand closing gently around her wrist.

“Hey, don’t run off yet,” he murmured.

She felt electrified from head to toe, excruciatingly aware of every beautiful inch of him right behind her. She could almost feel the heat of his body. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and then the sensation flowed downward, along her spine and out through her limbs, like molten gold.

He was barely touching her, a loose grip she could have broken out of in an instant. But the heat of his palm, the electric brush of his fingertips against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, froze her in place.

Like one of those dumb rabbits who freeze in front of a snake. Except she was no dumb bunny, not anymore, and no snake was going to hold her in his thrall.

She shook her arm free with far more force than needed and it threw her off-balance. She stumbled. Will jerked backward too, both hands raised, either to reach for her or fend her off, she wasn’t sure which. Didn’t matter.

“Look, Mr. Hawley,” she snapped, her voice nowhere near as strong as she would have liked. She pressed her palm to her chest to steady herself. “I’m sure you’re used to every woman you meet melting into a puddle at your feet, but that’s not going to happen with me. No drinks or anything else you might be offering.”

His expression sobered and he opened his mouth to say something but she didn’t want to hear what it was. Every second she spent alone with him was one more second than she should. “They’re waiting for you. You’d better get in there before you’re late.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode into the restaurant. This time he made no move to stop her. She never did that, confront someone. Her nerves felt jangly and raw. But now it was done. She’d made herself clear and Will Hawley would surely stay a mile away from her from now on. Which was good. For the rest of the night, she’d be reminding herself that that was a good thing.

“Everything all right?” Violet asked as Mira slid into the seat she’d saved for her.

“Fine!” she said brightly. The last thing anyone needed to know was that the new driver was hitting on her. She’d be out on her ass and back in LA before morning.

She blew out a trembling breath, refusing to look toward the doorway, even when she heard Will entering the room and greeting others. When Violet set a glass of red wine in front of her, she gratefully took a sip. Okay, she was off to a bit of a rocky start, but she’d handled it. She would continue to handle it. There was no way she’d let Will Hawley get under her skin and distract her from the job she’d come here to do.