The Price Of Desire. Sandra Marton

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The Price Of Desire - Sandra Marton


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Paris?’

      ‘He was appearing at some function and I was at a loose end. I tagged along for laughs.’

      ‘For laughs? And you then proceeded to dance the night away in his arms? What about the other half a dozen times you’ve been snapped together by the paparazzi?’ he demanded.

      She frowned. ‘I know you two are close, but don’t you think you’re taking an alarmingly unhealthy interest in your brother’s private life?’

      His head jerked as if she’d slapped him. His hazel eyes darkened and his shoulders stiffened as if he held some dark emotion inside. Again she wanted to step back. To flee from a fight for the first time in her life.

      ‘It’s my duty to protect my brother,’ he stated, with a finality that sharpened her interest.

      ‘Rafael’s a grown man. He doesn’t need protecting.’

      His raised a hand and slowly unfurled his fingers from around the velvet box. ‘Then what do you call this? Why did my brother, the reigning world champion, who rarely ever makes mistakes, deliberately drive into the back of a slower car?’

      Her gasp scoured her throat. ‘The accident wasn’t deliberate.’ She refused to believe Rafael would have acted so recklessly. ‘Rafael wouldn’t put himself or another driver in such danger.’

      ‘I’ve watched my brother race since he was six years old. His skill is legendary. He would never have put himself into the slipstream of a slower car so close to a blind corner. Not if he’d been thinking straight.’

      Sasha couldn’t refute the allegation because she’d wondered herself why Rafael had made such a dangerous move. ‘Maybe he thought he could make the move stick,’ she pursued half-heartedly.

      Long bronze hands curled around the box. Features tight, Marco breathed deeply. ‘Or maybe he didn’t care. Maybe it was already too late for him when he stepped into the cockpit?’

      Horror raked through her. ‘Of course it wasn’t. Why would you say that?’

      ‘He sent me a text an hour before the race to tell me he intended to have what he wanted. At all costs.’

      Sasha’s blood ran cold. ‘I … no, he couldn’t have said that! Besides, he didn’t mean—’ She bit her lip to stop the rest of her words. Although they’d rowed, she wasn’t about to betray Rafael’s trust. ‘We’re just friends.’

      ‘You’re poison.’ His hand slashed through the denial she’d been about to utter. ‘Whatever thrall you hold over your fellow team mates, it ends right now.’

      Sliding the box containing the engagement ring into his pocket, he returned to the desk. Several papers were spread across it. He searched through until he found what he was looking for.

      ‘Your contract is a rolling one, due to end next season.’

      Still reeling from the force of his words, Sasha stared at him.

      ‘My lawyers will hammer out the finer details of a pay-off in the next few days. But as of right now your services are no longer needed by Team Espiritu.’

      With the force of a bucket of cold water, she was wrenched from her numbness.

      ‘You’re firing me because I befriended your brother?’

      The hysterical edge to her voice registered on the outer fringes of her mind, but Sasha ignored it. She’d worked too hard, fought too long for this chance to let mere hysteria stand in her way. If she had to scream like a banshee she would do so to make Marco de Cervantes listen to her. After years of withstanding vicious whispers and callous undermining, she would not be dismissed so easily. Not when her chance to see her father’s reputation restored, the chance to prove her own worth, was so close.

      ‘Do you want to stop for a moment and think how absurd that is? Do you really want to carry on down that road?’ she demanded, raising her chin when he turned from the desk.

      ‘What road?’ he asked without looking up.

      ‘The sexist, discriminatory road. Or are you going to fire Rafael too when he wakes up? Just to even things up?’

      His gaze hardened. ‘I’ve been running this team for almost a decade and no one has ever been allowed to cause this much disruption unchecked before.’

      ‘What do you mean, unchecked?’

      ‘I warned Rafael about you three months ago,’ he delivered without an ounce of remorse. ‘I told him you were trouble. That he should stay away from you.’

      Her anger blazed into an inferno. ‘How dare you?’

      He merely shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, with Rafael, you only have to suggest there’s something he can’t have to make him hunger desperately for it.’

      ‘You’re unbelievable—you know that? You think you can play with people’s lives!’

      His face darkened. ‘Believe me, I’m not playing. Five million.’

      Confused, she frowned. ‘Five million … for what?’

      ‘To walk away. Dollars, pounds or euros. It doesn’t really matter.’

      Fire crackled inside her. ‘You want to pay me to give up my seat? To disappear like some sleazy secret simply because I became friends with your brother? Even to a wild nut-job like me that seems very drastic. What exactly are you afraid of, Mr de Cervantes?’

      Strong, corded arms folded over his chest. His body was held so tense she feared he would snap a muscle at any second. ‘Let’s just say I have experience with women like you.’

      ‘Damn, I thought I was one of a kind. Would you care to elaborate on that stunning assertion?’

      One brow winged upward. ‘And have you selling the story to the first tabloid hack you find? I’ll pass. Five million. To resign and to stay away from the sport.’

      ‘Go to hell.’ She added a smile just for the hell of it, because she yearned for him to feel a fraction of the anger and humiliation coursing through her. The same emotions her father had felt when he’d been thrown out of the profession that had been his life.

      ‘Is that your final answer?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes. I don’t need to phone a friend and I don’t need to ask any audience. My final answer—go to hell!’

      Sasha braced herself for more of the backlash he’d been doling out solidly for the last hour. But all he did was stare at her, his gaze once again leaving her feeling exposed, as if he’d stripped back a layer of her skin.

      He nodded once. Then he paced the room, seemingly lost for words. Finally he raked both hands through his hair, ruffling it until the silky strands looked unkempt in a sexy, just-got-out-of-bed look that she couldn’t help but stare at.

      Puzzled by his attitude, she forced her gaze away and tried to hang on to her anger. She didn’t deserve this. All she’d tried to be was a friend to Rafael, a team mate who’d seemed to be battling demons of his own.

      After her experience with Derek, and the devastating pain of losing the baby she hadn’t known she was carrying until it was too late, she’d vowed never to mix business with pleasure. Derek’s jealousy as she’d risen through the ranks of the racing world had eroded any feelings she’d had for him until there’d been nothing left.

      As if sensing her withdrawal, he’d tried to hang on to her with a last-ditch proposal. When she’d turned him down he’d labelled her a bitch and started a whispering campaign against her that had undermined all her years of hard work.

      Thankfully Derek had never found out the one thing he could have used against her. The one thing that could have shattered her very existence. The secret memory of her lost baby was buried deep inside, where no one could touch it or use it as a weapon against her.


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