Daring Her Love Read online

  “Weston, actually, but Denver’s the closest airport.”

  “Weston?” No way! That was where she was going.

  “Yes. I’ve got business there. Where are you headed?”

  “Weston.” Her stomach dipped, but her engine was revving again with the possibilities of what this could mean.

  No. No. No.

  She needed to nip these thoughts in the bud. No good could come from a guy who’d banged her in an airport bathroom.

  “Vacation, work, or family?” he asked.

  She shook her head, unable to clear her thoughts enough to answer. She didn’t want to talk about her plans. She needed him to know exactly where she stood. The sooner he returned to first class and sent the smelly guy back to his rightful seat, the sooner she could forget what she’d done. Although, she had a feeling that forgetting Eric was not going to be easy. If it was even possible.

  “Eric, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“I’m not looking for another hookup. I shouldn’t have done what we did. I’m really not that person anymore.”

  “Anymore?” He arched a brow and lowered his voice. “We can visit that later. For now, I think I got the message pretty clearly when you said you intended to forget what happened between us.” He placed a possessive hand on her thigh and said, “But I don’t intend to let you.”

  She was too shocked to respond, and embarrassingly, totally turned on by his aggressive behavior.

  “You see, Kat, I like you. I like the fire in your eyes, the strength in your convictions.” He pressed his lips to her ear and said in a gravelly voice that made her insides melt, “I love the taste of you and the way you look when you lose control.”

  Heat stroked over her. He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, his lips curving up in a sinful smile that made her wish his hand would inch up her thigh again. Holy fuck. Those eyes of his must be hypnotizing her. How on earth would she make it through a long flight sitting beside him? She glanced at his hand, currently possessing her thigh, and placed her hand over his, trying to lift it from her leg.

  He laced their fingers together, still smiling, but with a clear challenge in his eyes as he said, “Tell me to leave and I’ll go back to my seat.”

  She could barely think past the blood rushing through her ears and the fire heating up her veins at his audacity, which should have turned her off but was totally turning her on. He was controlling, but thoughtfully so, giving her an easy out with every step. Allowing her to be in control of her decisions. Sort of. Was there a woman alive who could resist his charms? She didn’t even know his last name, and she found herself relaxing her hand as he turned his so they were palm to palm, and laced their fingers again.

  “What’s your last name?” she asked.

  “James. Eric James. You?” His gaze never wavered as he waited for her answer.

  “Martin.”

  “Kat Martin,” he said under his breath, as if he were memorizing it or weighing the feel of it on his tongue. He raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. “Tell me, Kat, what turns you on besides dirty talk and a hard cock?”

  She bristled.

  “I struck a nerve. So dirty talk is only okay in quiet conversations or intimate moments. Duly noted. My deepest apologies.”

  Kat was seriously considering getting up and walking away, when he leaned in closer and said, “That tells me what you said is true. You’re not a typical hookup girl.”

  “I think I made that clear,” she said sternly.

  “Verbally. Yet you’re still here, holding my hand, and that flush on your cheeks isn’t caused by the altitude. I know it’s caused by me, because a girl who was interested in hooking up with any willing and able man wouldn’t have flinched at what I said.” His piercing gaze made her pulse ratchet up another notch—or ten.

  “You have a strange way of getting to the heart of matters,” she said, taking her hand back from his, and—confusingly—she missed his touch.

  “I think I’m pretty direct. Besides, there’s nothing more beautiful than the spark of confidence in your eyes right now.” He lowered his voice again. “And knowing that while your eyes are holding my gaze, you’re asking yourself, what do I want? Should I walk away? Do I want to hold his hand again? Does he want to hold mine?”

  Her mouth went dry at his uncanny ability to rattle and excite her at once.

  “You’re intrigued, turned on, and maybe a little scared. But not by me, because I’m hardly someone who’s dangerous in that way, but rather, you’re scared by the feelings I evoke in you. Should you walk away? Only if you want to truly forget what you felt back there. I know I don’t want to forget one second of it. I was more alive when I was touching you, tasting you, fucking you, than I’ve ever been.”

  She’d never been spoken to in such vulgar terms, and she might go straight to hell for this, but she loved every single word he said.

  When she finally responded, her voice was shaky but audible. “I wondered what other talents your mouth was capable of.”

  His head tipped back with a nearly silent laugh, and then he pinned her with a piercing stare. “I’m good at a lot of things, like being honest. I’ve never met a less forgettable woman than you, Kat. I want to know everything about you. What you feel like when you’re dancing close to me, what makes your eyes light up in the mornings, and what you sound like as you fall asleep. What you’re into—in and out of the bedroom. But mostly, right this second, I want to know how your hand feels in mine again.” He turned his hand palm up and held it out to her.

  His smile warmed, became less sexual, and somehow, he was already becoming familiar. She gazed at his hand, and as she lowered her palm to his, that felt familiar, too.

  AIRPORT HOOKUPS WEREN’T new for Eric, just as hookups anywhere else on the planet weren’t, but the sense of loss he’d felt when Kat had walked out of the bathroom had struck him numb. It didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t done any one thing, said any one thing that was remarkably significant, but she’d made his entire being hum. From his thoughts to his heartbeat to the fire racing through his veins, Kat electrified him. And then there was the sense that he somehow already knew her, and it lingered like a web in a tree, almost invisible, yet undeniably present.

  The minute he’d seen her walk on the plane, his heart had tumbled in his chest, and that, too, was new. He wasn’t about to take the chance of never seeing her again, not when she’d already turned his mind, and his body, inside out. As a professional race car driver, Eric James was used to making snap decisions that his life depended on. When he set his sights on something, he didn’t back down. Hell, backing down wasn’t even in his vocabulary. But usually those decisions happened on the racetrack. Never before had he felt possessive of a woman—and certainly not after just meeting her. But the possessive, and some might say, obsessive, traits that made him a world-champion racer were riding the surface of his skin and gnawing at the pit in his gut—the gut that produced instincts he trusted with his life.

  He knew he was testing Kat’s boundaries, but in addition to knowing what he wanted, he knew himself too well to play games with either of their emotions. She needed to know the real him, not the guy the rest of the world saw in magazines and on television. He rarely let anyone inside the walls he’d constructed around himself, but he was so drawn to her, he instinctively knew he had to go in no holds barred or not at all.

  The churning in his gut calmed when she set her hand in his.

  Kat blinked up at him, and the confusion in her eyes pulled all his strings. Even the ones he never knew he had.

  “I don’t know why I’m holding your hand. You’re a dirty-talking guy I barely know. You paid someone off so you could sit beside me, and for all I know, you’re a crazy-ass stalker.”

  He laughed. “All of that is true. For all you know I am a crazy-ass stalker, and yet…” He held up their hands.

  “I’m so not this person,” she whisp
ered harshly.

  “I have on good authority that you are Kat Martin.”

  “Yes, but not the woman”—she leaned in closer—“who has sex in a bathroom and then does this.” She lifted their hands.

  “Then tell me who you are.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes, looking so fucking adorable he had to fight the urge to kiss her again. He had no idea what compelled him to hold her hand, except that he had wanted desperately to be closer to her, to keep their connection, and he was thrilled that she allowed him to.

  “I’m a waitress slash bartender slash”—she paused, as if debating whether to continue, and then added, “going to see her best friend, and I’m totally uninterested in talking about myself.” She turned a scrutinizing gaze on him. “Who are you?”

  “This is where I run into trouble.” He was always wary of revealing what he did for a living, because no matter what, it always changed the way people treated him. They were either in awe of his celebrity, or immediately wrote him off as a pompous ass.

  “Let me guess: You’re married, on a business trip, wife and kids are at home.” She tried to pull her hand away, and he tightened his hold.

  “First of all, you couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve never been married, am not in a committed relationship, and I have no children that I know of.”

  “That’s reassuring,” she said with another eye roll.

  “Hey, all I can give you is the truth.”

  “Okay, then tell me who you are. No games, no lines, just lay it out there.”

  The truth came easier than he’d imagined. “Eric James. Capital Series Grand Prix racer.” The airplane rumbled and bumped, knocking them both forward. Eric put an arm out in front of Kat to keep her from jolting forward. Her eyes were wide and fearful. “It’s okay. Just a little turbulence.” He took both her hands in his and reassured her. “Just a few bumps from the storm. You’re okay.”

  She nodded, but he could tell she was still frightened.

  “You don’t fly much, do you?”

  She shook her head.

  He gathered her as close as he could while strapped into their seats. “It’s okay. Focus on our conversation. Ask me anything you want to know, Kat. Look at me. Focus on me.”

  The fear in her eyes nearly did him in. He wanted to press his lips to hers and kiss away the fright. Instead, he kissed her forehead. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Talk to me, Kat.”

  “Are you really a race car driver?” Her voice was thin, shaky.

  “Yes. I really am.”

  “As in the Grand Prix racing series that Hugh Braden has won a bunch of times?”

  “You follow racing?” He loved driving—the speed, the freedom, the risk—and would be thrilled if she followed the series, but she didn’t look like a racing groupie.

  “No, but I follow Hugh. His wife is my best friend.”

  “You know Brianna?” The plane jostled again, and she sucked in a sharp breath. He lifted the arm of the chair to bring her in closer, then stroked his hands down her back. “It’s okay. Tell me how you know Brianna.”

  “We worked together at the tavern where she met Hugh.”

  “Oh, shit. You’re that Kat?” Hugh had told him a little about Brianna’s best friend over the years. He knew how close she and Brianna were and that she was godmother to Brianna’s daughter, Layla. Hugh had said Kat was spunky, and that as a single mother, Brianna had relied heavily on her.

  “Is that bad?” She raised her brows, and he couldn’t resist tucking her hair behind her ear so he could see her eyes more clearly.

  “No, darlin’. Hugh speaks very highly of you. I had no idea you were that Kat.”

  “I love Brianna. She’s the strongest woman I know, and such a good mother.” Her eyes warmed and her voice turned thoughtful. “Hugh is so good to her.”

  “Hugh’s a good man, and he loves her and the kids to the ends of the earth. He’s a lucky man.”

  “Because she loves him?”

  “Because they love each other, and he has a family.” Something I never really had until I met Hugh. He thought about his friend and the way Hugh’s father, Hal Braden, had always treated Eric like a son, and Hugh’s five siblings treated him like family, too. His heart ached at the thought of his biological family. He’d left home at sixteen to escape the nightmare of two heroin-addicted parents, and despite the fact that they’d since gotten clean, they still didn’t have a warm relationship. He pushed past the familiar thickening in his throat and turned his attention back to the incredibly sweet and beautiful woman beside him.

  “Tell me about your family, Kat. Are you close?”

  “I’m close to my parents and my younger brother, and Bree’s mom is like a second mother to me. We’re really close, too.” She smiled and added, “And Hugh’s father, well, he treats everyone like they’re his children.”

  “Hal Braden is an amazing man, that’s for sure. His love has pulled me through more times than I’d like to admit.” He realized what he was about to reveal and changed the subject. “So you and I are both headed to the Braden ranch?”

  “You’re staying there?” Her eyes were wide, but it was the excitement in her eyes he couldn’t miss, and damn did he like it.

  “Yes, I am.” I’m a lucky bastard.

  “Oh, no. We can’t. You and I…”

  “Relax. It’s not like I’m going to take you on their kitchen floor.”

  “Oh, God,” she said in a whisper. She separated their hands, lowered the arm of the seat between them, and held up her palm, staving him off. “Stay there. Just…stay there.”

  He was amused by her sudden nervousness. “Whatever you say.”

  “God, Eric. I had no idea you knew them, much less were staying with them. What we did was supposed to be a one-time thing. A last fling; then I’d go back to looking for Mr. Right, and—”

  “Whoa. What?” He cocked a brow.

  She covered her mouth and closed her eyes for a beat. When she opened them, the worry was replaced with humor. “Looking for Mr. Right.”

  “You’re looking for a husband?” A trickle of worry skittered through him.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. Not exactly looking, just…trying not to attract the wrong type of guys.”

  He scoffed. He was totally the wrong type of guy, and yet he couldn’t imagine walking away from her.

  “What? Is it wrong to want to be adored? To want romance? With flowers and wine and sweet words that make my stomach flutter?” She sighed dreamily. “I used to live like tomorrow may never come, you know, less discriminatory with the guys I dated, staying out until all hours. And do you know where that got me? Not far, that’s for sure. I had tons of great sex, but great sex doesn’t equate to true love, and in my case, it equated to a lot of lonely nights after the great sex.” She shrugged, smiling like she was amused by her life. “Ten years of working the same job, several years of night classes for a business degree that I’ve never used, and wondering why my life wasn’t going where I wanted it to, and then Brianna met Hugh and everything changed.”

  She could have been reciting the soundtrack to his life.

  “I took stock in my life and what I wanted out of it, and a year ago I told my boss, Mack, whom I adore, that I wanted more, and he totally got it. I mean, where was I going as a bartender and a waitress? I confessed my dreams, poured my heart out to him, because really, he is so much more than a boss. He’s always been like an older brother I could tell anything to. I admitted that I wanted to do something to help others, something exciting, breathing life into the dreams of others. And trust me, I know how stupid that sounds, but Mack connected me with his friend Shea Steele, a public relations rep to the rich and famous, and she’s been mentoring me in PR day in and day out. I’ve probably got more diverse experience than half the PR reps out there. It’s been a wild and crazy ride, but I’ve always tried to face my fears, and this was just one of a few that I hadn’t conquered. My dream of owning my own business.
”

  “So, this trip?”

  “This trip is about breaking free. Starting over. I quit my job, and I’m going for it.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Like our hookup. My last bite of cake before my big diet.”

  He smiled, but inside he felt the burn of longing. He didn’t want to be a last bite of cake. He wanted to be the whole celebration.

  “So, you’re going into PR for the rich and famous?” he asked.

  “No. No offense to you, but I feel like celebrities don’t really need the type of PR help I want to give. I mean, so much exposure comes from just being rich and famous. I want to help the little guys, and I don’t care if that means earning peanuts, or not gaining exposure for my business as quickly as I might if I helped bigger names. I want to focus on nonprofits, companies and people who are doing good in the world in bigger ways. This trip is about getting ready to dive in feetfirst. Brianna is taking pictures for my website and brochures, which is fitting, considering it was Brianna and Hugh who gave me the inspiration to do all of this. I was there the day they met, and looking back? It was nothing short of magical that the two of them would meet so randomly. And even though they met at the tavern, I couldn’t imagine it happening twice, and I worried that it was also putting me in a bad place to meet the kind of person I would like to be with in the future. Someone stable and loving, and interested in the world around them, not just the next good lay.”

  She held his gaze for a long time, and he wondered if she was thinking that he belonged in that group of people, too. He wanted to tell her that it was Hugh’s relationship with Bree, and the way it had sated Hugh so completely, that had Eric carousing less with random women and focusing on fleshing out the things that were important to him, like creating a scholarship for his foundation, the Foundation for Whole Families, that helped families affected by drug use. The foundation gave him fulfillment vastly different from what racing or women ever could.

  But he held his tongue, because surely these coincidences would seem far-fetched to Kat, and perhaps even contrived. Neither definition entered his mind, but the word fate certainly did.