Zion followed him like a smitten puppy and worry swept through her stomach again. Darius Spencer had a hangar full of ridiculously expensive cars, a personal mechanic, and one call to the control tower allowed him to take over the runways.
So why was he wasting so much time with them? Nathalie knew she was sometimes a little too careful with her brother. It was just that if anything happened to him, she’d never, ever forgive herself. But here in the hangar with all the amazing cars, Zion was so happy and excited that she couldn’t bear squashing him down.
Darius opened the Mercury Cougar’s door. “Hold onto the roll bar back here to get in.”
He demonstrated with a pat on the curved bar behind the passenger seat.
“Don’t use the windshield.” The car had no top, just the roll bars behind each of the two seats. The interior was brushed metal, with no carpeting, and the seats were a simple leather bucket. After Zion was in, Darius leaned over the passenger door to secure the buckle, which was much thicker than a normal seatbelt. Clapping Zion on the shoulder, Darius said,
“There you go, buddy,” then rounded the hood. He climbed into the driver’s seat after a jaunty salute to Nathalie. The engine roared to life, and Darius pulled onto the tarmac with Zion vibrating with eagerness and sheer joy in the seat beside him.
It was a small airport for light planes, not big commercial airliners. Two runways ran down the center with a long row of hangars on either side. Some had business signage over them—carrier services, flight insurance, maintenance, and one for a local flying club. It hadn’t occurred to her that a person could actually rent a hangar to store anything other than a plane, not until Zion had received Darius’s return letter.
She watched the classy race car cruise down the closest runway. True to his word, Darius kept his speed down. He turned at the end and headed back on the opposite runway, picking up the pace as they came around to pass her. Zion waggled a thumbs-up over the windshield. His lips moved a mile a minute, talking Darius’s ear off. Nathalie smiled, feeling much better about everything...at least, until she realized the car was going faster.
And faster. When they made the next turn, she heard tires squeal. Her stomach jumped and she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard, as if the pain would distract her. Ever since her parents had passed away at the end of her senior year of college, Zion had been her responsibility.
He was the only family she had left. He had difficulty learning new skills, and while he loved the computer, he needed a lot of help. In the morning, he went to a special school, and he bagged at the local grocery store on weekday afternoons. She hadn’t gotten Zion the job because they needed the money, but because her brother needed to feel useful. It was good for his self-esteem. She did everything she could for him.
Yet she’d just let him get in a car with a madman. Some guardian she turned out to be, she thought as Darius and Zion roared along the runways as if they were on a racetrack. Her heart hammered as the whoosh of their passing blew her hair across her face. She hated speed after what had happened to both Zion and her parents. Or at least, she should have hated speed.
Yet her heart, a traitor to everything she knew to be right, secretly ached to be in the car with them, to taste the rush of air as it raced right through her...and to feel the same rapture that was now shining on Zion’s face. The Mercury Cougar made two more laps before Darius slowed and eased to a stop beside her.
“Careful getting out,” he said to Zion. “
The pipe down on the side is hot and I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
Before she could rush around the car to make sure Zion didn’t touch the big black exhaust pipe, he was already pushing himself out, using the roll bar, not the windshield, just as Darius had told him. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Darius a narrow-eyed gaze as he also climbed out of the car.
“How fast were you going?”
He answered her with the solemn, sincere look he’d used on her earlier when he’d promised not to go too fast.
“Fifty on the straightaway.”
“No way.”
“I swear.”
He crossed his heart, just like before.
“Well, then, fifty is too fast out there.”
It probably wasn’t, but she had to argue, because Zion was her responsibility.
Or maybe it was because Darius was so darned gorgeous and persuasive that she felt as though she had to fight the urge to automatically give in to him. Zion bounded around the car.
“Wasn’t that cool, Nathalie?”
He’d had to learn to talk again after the accident, and even now, all these years later, his speech was careful, almost strained sometimes, as if he was searching for the right words. But he’d clearly been feeling great today—almost like the eighteen-year-old he should have been.
And she could see that he’d just had so much fun. His elation was bursting out of him like an excited puppy who’d just been let out of his crate.
“Was it good?” she asked in a gentle voice. The wind had gusted his hair into spikes and tangles, and she smoothed down the soft brown locks.
“The best.” Zion’s eyes gleamed, his gaze bouncing between her and Darius, then finally settling on her.
“Your turn now, Nathalie.” She shook her head. Hard.
“I’m not getting in that car.” Darius smiled winningly. Or cunningly. She honestly wasn’t sure at this point, her heart beating fast at even the thought of getting into the sports car with Darius.
“I promise I won’t take you any faster than I did Zion,” he told her. “And you just saw for yourself that he didn’t come to any harm.” Another easy promise. There was a challenge there, too.
And for a moment of pure insanity, she wanted to take the dare, feel the exhilaration, inhale it. She wanted to go fast, feel the wind beating her face, feel her blood rushing wildly through her veins. But she was not insane. Safe. She needed to keep everyone safe.
Not only Zion, but herself, too. Just because she might want something didn’t mean she could have it. Not if it was something that was bad for her or for Zion. Unfortunately, the best refusal she could come up with in the face of both of them looking at her so expectantly was,
“I’m wearing a skirt. There’s no way I can get down into that seat.”
But even as she said it, a part of her—a really big part—wanted to take what he offered. Just once, she wanted to close her eyes and race with the wind.
“I’ll help you.” Darius held out his hand.
“It’s fun, Nathalie.” Zion had to add his two cents.
“Once around,”
Darius said, his voice low, his gaze deep, his hand still held out to her as if he had no doubt she’d eventually agree.
“That’s all it will be. A fast ride that you’re going to love. I promise. Once around,” he said again, before smiling and adding,
“Unless you want more.”
As if he’d known how close to the edge she already was, his coaxing words had her falling right into his blue gaze, like a cliff diver hurtling down to water as smooth as glass. For the first time in forever,
Nathalie wanted to forget about what was bad for her and just do what felt good. Which was why she finally said,
“I’ll go with you for one turn around the runway.”
She made sure to add as a reminder for them both, “But I won’t be wanting more than that.” Only, she wasn’t sure he believed it any more than she did.