Page 6

James points to the black SUV waiting at the curb side and motions me in through the open door.

I watch from my spot in the backseat as he puts my luggage into the trunk, walks my trolley to the trolley bay and returns to take his seat next to me, knowing for sure that not one of these things is in his job description.

“Thanks,” I say after he’s settled in beside me.

“It’s no problem.”

The driver checks to see we’re buckled in and then we’re off, heading into some of the worst traffic I’ve seen in my life.

“Wow,” I say under my breath as I take in the six-lane freeway filled with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“Welcome to peak hour traffic in Shanghai,” James says, leaning his head back like he’s settling in for a long journey. Which, from the looks of the way we’re creeping along at a snail’s pace, seems about right.

I watch the sights through my window as we crawl along, not really taking any of it in. There’s a mix of emotions swirling through me at the idea of Nicky sending James to get me from the airport and they range from gratitude through to fear.

“If you’re here with me, who’s watching over Nicky?” I ask the one question that’s been plaguing me the most. Surely it’s more important that he stay with Nicky than to play chauffeur for me.

James smiles. “He’s safely tucked away in his suite at the hotel, which has its own security. He’ll be fine. I think he’s more anxious about your safety.”

This sounds just like Nicky. He’s the millionaire sports star with a legion of people wanting to get close to him, and he’s worried about me getting in a taxi from the airport to the hotel.

“I’ve never actually seen this side of him,” James continues, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “He was insistent I leave hours before your arrival, so I didn’t miss you.”

I’m horrified. “I’m so sorry, James. He’s just used to looking out for me, that’s all. I’ll talk to him, make sure he knows I can look after myself.”

He smirks. “Let me know how that goes.”

My annoyance at the situation rises. How useless does Nicky think I am, that he needs to send someone to fetch me? Like I can’t get from A to B without messing it up?

“It’s nice,” James says after leaving me to stew in silence for several minutes.

“What is?”

His eyes run over me, his lips tipping up at the edges at what he sees. I must look like a crumpled mess. Ten hours in economy class will do that to a girl. “Seeing him care about someone, something, other than racing.”

Hmph. The wind deflates out of my angry sails and I slump back in my seat. He cares about the people he considers family; it’s just that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see that side of him.

“We’re here.”

The SUV stops at the top of a long curving driveway and I crane my neck to look up at the tall tower of the hotel we’ve pulled up to.

The fancy five-star resort I’d stayed at in Bali pales in comparison to the opulence of the building we’re in front of, and I squeal with excitement at the thought of staying here.

Of getting paid to stay here for the next seven days.

“Ma’am?”

My car door opens and I walk into the foyer, gasping at the mahogany interior, the crystal chandeliers and the sight of a rumpled Nicky prowling up and down in front of the reception desk.

“Nicky?”

He turns, the tight look on his face melting as he catches sight of me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, hurrying towards him.

He scans me up and down and I tuck a strand of frizzy hair behind my ear, wishing I’d thought to freshen up before leaving the airport.

“You’re good?” he asks in a low voice, pulling me to the side and running his eyes over me again, like I may have lost a limb since he’d last seen me.

I put my hand on his arm and squeeze. “I’m fine. Thanks for sending James to get me. You didn’t have to do that.”

He frowns. “I—”

“I’ve taken Ms Brenner’s bags up to your suite. "

We turn in unison to see a short man in a dark suit with a demure smile handing me an envelope.

“Thank you.” Taking it from him, feeling rattled again, I let Nicky guide me towards the lifts. His hand is warm on my lower back. “What did he say?”

“Come with me.”

Nicky takes a card from the pocket of his dark denim jeans, waves it in front of the card reader, and presses the button for the twentieth floor.

“Did he say he’s taken my bags to your suite?” I ask, tugging on his arm to get his attention.

His mouth twists as he looks down at me. “There’s been a problem with the reservations.”

My stomach sinks. How am I already causing more problems? It’s just like Troy liked to say; where Cherry goes, problems follow.

“It seems the hotel is booked out, and because you’re a…late addition to the team, there wasn’t a room for you for this week.”

“And?” Surely I can stay somewhere else.

“And it’s race weekend.”

“And?”

The doors of the lift open and he ushers me out, his hand warm and tantalising on my lower back.

“And every hotel within a twenty-kilometre radius is booked out.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” He uses his card again, this time to open the huge teak wooden door in front of us. “So, that means you’ll be staying with me.”

I peek from him to the suite just through the door.

Oh?

Oh!