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CHAPTER ELEVEN

NICO AND ROCCO

I t was preseason testing, and Nico stood in the paddock watching the cars whiz by, knowing any second Rocco would be speeding past. She could hear the race engineer on the radio talking to him.

She shielded her eyes from the sun. Even with her dark shades, the bright glare made her blink.

It was warmer than when she’d been in the car this morning but not that much.

It was still cool enough to make for a fast track.

The heat wave that had scorched Vegas during that photoshoot had come and gone. So, it seems, had that spark of good vibes between her and Rocco.

She’d expected things to be different after the photoshoot. She’d expected something to be different.

Not that we would be buddies.

A shiver coursed through her body as she remembered his flesh grazing her nipples when he’d raised his arm just before jumping up on the hood of that car. And then what he’d done with her hair.

She shook her head as though this might shake the memory from her brain.

No, definitely not buddies. But at least less antagonistic.

When she’d arrived at the paddock, she waited for some sign, some indication she’d been right. But he wouldn’t even look at her. Not even during the team meeting. And when they’d accidentally bumped into each other once, he’d mumbled a gruff sorry while looking the other way.

Maybe it was better. She’d been nervous about seeing him again and not just because of what had happened at the photoshoot but because of her dreams—yes, dreams, plural—because now she was having more than one.

In one, he was up on the hood of that car.

That in and of itself wouldn’t have been so bad.

But she was up there with him. Under him.

And he was—doing things. Things she shouldn’t be thinking about.

Things she didn’t want to be thinking about.

Things she kept telling her brain to stop thinking about.

Especially standing here in the paddock.

Now that she thought about it, it was better she be invisible to him. She just had to work on making him invisible to her.

If he could do it, then so could she. Okay, so maybe it was a little more difficult because of those dreams. Still, she was every bit as much a driver as he was. He was focused on one thing and one thing only—winning. And so was she.

There he is , she thought as she saw him swiftly approach and fly down the track.

Nico had been thrilled when she was sitting behind the wheel.

The car was creating some definite buzz.

It was fast. The owner had spared no expense and had poached some of the best engineers, technicians, and mechanics from some of the premier F1 teams, including Blue Jet Lightning and Elegante Racing—the two teams that had finished first and second last year, for the Constructors’ and the Drivers’ Championships.

In only twelve days, I’ll be on that track—the first race of the season. MY FIRST Formula 1 race.

“Nico Angelini?”

She swung around at the sound of a woman’s voice. She was stunning—tall and elegant with auburn hair that was sleek, shiny, and straight and still managed to fall in a graceful wave to just past her shoulders. Her skin was translucent, her features delicate.

Nico found herself wishing she could see the woman’s eyes, but she was wearing dark sunglasses.

The woman smiled. “I’m Carolyn Wickham.”

Wickham , Nico thought. Right. Wife of the owner of Blue Jet Lightning.

They shook hands.

“Nico Angelini. You and your husband must be very pleased. Your car and your drivers look very fast.”

“They do, don’t they? Especially Ian. We’re hoping he can win us both trophies again this year.

But, of course, Leo Clarke will be in contention as well.

Perhaps even Rocco. He doesn’t look too bad out there.

Maybe he can recapture some of his old glory.

I’m just glad to see he’s racing this season.

For a while there, it looked as though he might—not be. ”

Nico remained silent. She had her opinions about the man—plenty of them—but she wasn’t about to share them with anyone who was connected to another team.

Carolyn sighed. “Hopefully, he can find a way to contain his emotions. I mean, he looks pretty good now. But that’s always the case at the beginning of the season. It doesn’t take much for his emotions to get the better of him. He’s very sensitive.”

The conversation was making Nico feel uncomfortable. Something about it felt … strange.

There was a moment of silence as they gazed at the cars that passed before them.

“I know it can’t be easy for you,” Carolyn went on. “It’s not easy for any woman in this F1 world, in any capacity. But then, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. It will only get harder from here.”

She paused.

“I’m not sure how well you know your teammate. Maybe I’ll fill you in on some details one of these days.”

After that, she smiled and left.

Well, that was sus.

Feeling restless, Nico decided to take a walk. She hadn’t gone far before she ran into Ceci Rivers, technical director for Blue Jet Lightning.

Ceci had been one of the first people to call and congratulate Nico when word of her racing Formula 1 had gone public. She’d also slammed Rocco on social media for that coffee run tweet.

Ceci wasn’t a close friend, but their paths had crossed here and there, and they’d done some events together promoting women in motorsports. Nico had always liked and admired the woman. If anyone knew what it was like to be a lone woman in a man’s world, it was Ceci Rivers.

They chatted for a while until Ceci, looking at something over Nico’s shoulder, let out a low whistle.

Nico turned around to see handsome Leo Clarke a few feet away and about to pass them.

“Well, well, well,” Ceci murmured. “If it isn’t Sir Clarke Kent—the GQ king.”

He was still in his racing suit. Nico had watched him earlier flying around the track rapid fire and earning the fastest time yet today. You would never know it from looking at him. He looked Antarctica cool, not one bead of sweat on him.

Nico’s brow wrinkled. “Did you say sir ?”

“Rumor is, he’s going to be knighted by the king.”

“Really?”

Ceci ran her black nails through her mass of copper curls and called out in that throaty voice, “Good morrow, Sir Clarke! Looking for a lady who’s pulling the princess vibe?”

Nico chuckled as Clarke stopped suddenly and gave them a blank stare. His cheeks crimsoned and his lips parted as though he might respond. But then he quickly shut them, turned his head, and walked off.

Nico shook her head, laughing.

Ceci grinned. “Hey, that man is so bougie. Someone needs to bring him down to earth.”

Rocco crossed his arms, gazing out at the track.

I thought things would be different after that photoshoot.

He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d be different, but something would be different. He thought at least there’d be less friction between them after he’d jumped up on that hood. He just wished he’d stopped there. He wished he hadn’t done that thing with her hair.

He didn’t want her thinking he was interested in her—like that.

I’m not.

I just wish I could stop having those dreams.

Now he was getting out of that chair and putting those nipples in his mouth. Running his finger along that collarbone while she looked at him with those dark eyes. And even worse … he was putting his hand between her thighs and …

Fuck, she was wet.

He shook his body like a dog shaking off water.

He knew coming here today, he just needed to keep things cool and professional.

But he’d thought cool and professional could still look—what?

Friendly? But no. From the moment he’d first seen her in the paddock, she’d had that frozen look like a deer gets when it’s caught in a car’s headlights.

That look that said to him Don’t come anywhere near me and definitely don’t even think about doing that again with my hair .

That told him everything he needed to know.

Professional and cool meant more emphasis on the cool.

Just go about your business. Remember why you’re here.

He felt a hand on his back. Casey and the crew were pleased with his performance. There were bro-hugs and high fives all around.

So far so good , thought Rocco. Of course, this was only preseason testing.

Still, the signs were good. Next weekend would be the first round.

With a car this fast, during qualifying next weekend, he expected to come in first or second.

He’d actually held back a little today, guaranteeing he’d come in behind Clarke’s time.

There was already enough buzz about the rookie team’s car. Better the buzz not be too good.

Barring some unforeseen disaster, next weekend he’d be starting in the first row, at worst, the second. And in that case, it was a virtual lock he’d be up on that podium.

“You looked good out there,” Dario said, slapping him on the back. “Third fastest time. Clarke came in second.”

“Who came in first?”

“That would be me.” Rocco heard a voice behind him.

Up walked Ian Anker, his blonde hair gleaming and those hard, cobalt-blue eyes of his flashing.

“So, a rookie American team,” he said. “Not to mention your teammate, who shall remain dick-less.”

“Like you,” Rocco said.

“Yeah, but unlike you,” Dario added, “she has a set of balls.”

Anker grinned, displaying his gleaming white teeth. Rocco could almost swear he saw fangs.

He placed his hand on Rocco’s shoulder. “Whatever it takes to make you feel better, ladies.”

Before Rocco could respond, Anker dropped his hand and walked away.

Dario shook his head. “That guy definitely looks to rattle drivers off the track.”

“On it too,” Rocco said.

Anker was notorious for not giving way and making dangerous moves to stop a driver from passing him. He intimidated drivers so that even if they had a path to pass him, they hesitated to do so.

Rocco had experienced this firsthand. While he’d never allowed Anker to intimidate him on the track, the outcome between their duels had never gone well for Rocco.

At best, they’d kept him from winning or earning even second or third place on the podium.

And at worst, they’d resulted in him crashing and unable to finish the race at all.

Dario stiffened looking at something over Rocco’s shoulder. When Rocco turned around, he understood why.

Carolyn.

She smiled and placed a manicured hand lightly on his chest. “It’s good to see you back in the saddle, Rocco.”

He took a measured step back, which left her hand hanging until she dropped it to her side.

She glanced behind him. “Dario,” she said in a tone that made it clear she wanted him to leave.

Dario didn’t respond. He also didn’t move until Rocco gave him a look, telling him it was okay.

“I met your teammate,” Carolyn said after Dario had left. “This is new territory for you, having a woman as a teammate.”

He shrugged, though his heartbeat quickened. “It’s new territory for everyone. There hasn’t been talk about the possibility of a woman racing F1 since Ceci.” He shot Carolyn a pointed look. “And we both know what happened in that case.”

What had happened was that Carolyn had made damn sure it didn’t happen when Rocco had suggested it to Blue Jet’s team principal.

Carolyn tossed her head. “Ceci seems perfectly happy where she is now.”

Ceci was hired by the team a few years later and was now technical director. Rocco had always wondered why Carolyn hadn’t put a stop to that too. Maybe she’d tried and failed. Or maybe it no longer mattered to Carolyn, given Rocco no longer drove for the team.

Even Carolyn had to admit it was a good move. Ceci Rivers had proven herself outside the car as well as in it.

It hit Rocco then.

I know what’s bugging her.

It’s the fact that Nico is a woman.

He narrowed his eyes, and his tone was icy cold. “Be careful, Carolyn. Green has never been a good look on you. We both know what happened with Ceci, and the two of us weren’t even involved—in that way.”

She blinked, and her eyes flashed. There was a sudden shift in both her body language and the look on her face.

Her tone changed.

“And you and Ms. Angelini are?”

He blinked. He hadn’t meant to suggest that. He was about to say no , but Carolyn didn’t give him the chance.

“Be careful, dear, a poor performance off the track can produce performance anxiety on it.”

She turned and was gone.

Dario came up behind him. “You okay?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

He sounded doubtful because that’s how he felt. But then he thought of the upcoming race next weekend.

I’m better than okay.

I’ll be up on that podium. I might even come in first, beating Clarke and Anker.

He could. He knew he could.

He would.

Damn it.