Nathalie froze. She’d known it was coming, but she’d expected the question about getting into one of Mr. Spencer’s cars from Zion. Not from the billionaire! She had her excuses lined up. Mr. Spencer couldn’t possibly have time. He didn’t even know them and couldn’t be expected to let just anyone ride in one of his cars.
She’d imagined the powerful businessman would readily agree with everything she said, likely because he’d be angling to get out of there and back to making more billions as soon as possible. But now that he’d made the unexpected offer, though Zion was already jumping up and down shouting his glee, she couldn’t possibly take him up on it.
“Thank you for the lovely offer, Mr. Spencer, but Zion and I have already taken enough of your time.”
“Like I said, I’ve got all afternoon.” He smiled at her again.
“And it’s Darius.” Sweet Lord, that man had a smile on him. It was cocky, sexy, and somehow sincere, all at the same time. He had to be aware of the effect it had on the female gender.
She guessed he used it knowingly, undermining resistance, so that he could get whatever he wanted. But why would he be using it on her?
“I don’t think—”
“Come on, Nathalie.” Zion gave her his best hangdog expression.
“We want to go out in the fast car!” “Yeah, come on, Nathalie.” Amusement laced the billionaire’s voice as he echoed her brother. Darius’s gaze was deep, startlingly blue, like the Mediterranean ocean of his heritage.
“We really do want to go out in the fast car.”
His hair was as dark as the devil, his features more handsome than a man with his wealth deserved. She’d half expected to be met today by a flock of Spencer Imports publicity reps. After all, she’d figured the slick, filthy-rich business owner giving his time to a young man like Zion would be a publicist’s goldmine.
Yet Darius had come alone and was dressed casually in jeans and a dark T-shirt—one that emphasized his muscled biceps, but was as far from a five-thousand-dollar suit as anything could be. Just as Zion had researched Darius’s cars,
Nathalie had researched the man himself. There was a great deal of information online about how he’d built his business, but very few details about his personal life or past. None of her research had helped her understand why someone as wealthy and powerful as Darius Spencer would even bother to answer Zion’s letter.
The invitation to meet at his hangar had floored her. After all, he was a luxury importer—and she wasn’t even sure what that meant, exactly. How could a man make billions off luxury? And all his cars she’d seen profiled on the Hot Cars show Zion had made her watch smelled of money. Darius was a collector of things, so she’d assumed he probably collected people, too…until he got tired of them.
But then she remembered the way he’d looked at her and Zion, with a longing that she didn’t quite understand, but felt all the same, right in the center of her chest where her heart was beating just a little too fast from nothing more than the look in his eyes. Plus, she hadn’t expected him to be so nice. He didn’t laugh at Zion. In fact, Darius hadn’t looked at her brother as if there was anything wrong with him at all.
And now he wanted to take Zion for a ride in one of his super fast cars.
Knowing they were both staring at her, waiting for her answer, she finally said,
“Where would you take him if I said it was okay?”
“Just down the runway. I’ll check with the control tower to make sure there won’t be any planes coming in. You can watch us the whole time.”
“Please, Nathalie,”
Zion pleaded, not at all afraid of going fast even though speed had taken so much away from him. Darius didn’t know their story, even though Nathalie sometimes felt like everyone else did, as though it was the only thing that defined her and Zion.
Eleven years ago, her brother had been hit by a car driven by a rich teenager who was driving way too fast. The teenager’s father had not only bought him out of a prison sentence, he’d also forced her parents to accept a payoff in lieu of the litigation that they’d been told would have dragged on for years otherwise.
Nathalie had never blamed her parents for their decision to take the money. Zion had suffered irreparable brain damage and now he was an eighteen-year-old who had never progressed mentally past the age of seven. She understood why economics won out over justice sometimes.
Her brother’s road to recovery hadn’t been cheap, but thankfully, as long as she was careful with her investments and earned enough with her salary as a recruiter, there was still money left to support his current needs, like the special school he attended. When her parents had died six years ago,
Nathalie had made it her mission to carry on their legacy and protect Zion. But in many ways, on the day of the car crash she hadn’t only lost her little brother, she’d also lost her parents to financial worry and emotional turmoil, years before they’d passed away in a private plane crash. Speed had taken so much from her and her brother, but Zion was a good kid.
He always had been, and she couldn’t help giving in to him when he wanted something badly. Surely one ride here today had to be a safe way for Zion to experience that speed he so longed for...and if she had any longing left inside of her for just that same thing, she shoved it down. It was up to her to be the responsible one, after all.
“All right, Darius.”
She wanted to keep on thinking of Darius as Mr. Spencer, but somehow he made that impossible with those smiles of his and his charming insistence that she call him by his first name.
“But not too fast.”
Darius’s expression was solemn as he crossed his heart.
“I promise. No faster than my mechanic would allow.”
“How fast is that?” He smiled again.
“Nothing that would hurt the pristine engine.”
She had no idea what that meant, but she was helpless against the combined power of his smiles and promises.
“All right, fine. But I’ll be watching.”
“I’m thinking the Mercury Cougar for our first ride.” He turned to Zion.
“Sound okay to you?”
“Yay!” Zion crowed. Nathalie suspected Darius had chosen the Mercury Cougar because it was the one he’d personally labored over, the one that held the most meaning for him.
“Let me call the tower so they’re ready for us.” Once again, Darius keyed a code into a pad next to an office door. The lights inside turned on automatically, illuminating a desk and bookshelves crammed with manuals, the names of the cars written along their spines.
There were trophies and framed photos, mostly of the cars, with only a few including Darius. He punched a couple of numbers on the phone, spoke quietly into it, then turned back to them with that killer smile while he waited for the person on the other end to respond to his request to clear the runways. Nathalie’s heart beat faster despite herself.
“All clear.”
He put the phone down, then grabbed a key off a board on the wall, tossed it up, and caught it in his fist.
“Let’s go.”