Reese: The Untamed. Susan Connell

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СКАЧАТЬ the air. “To drive one. Catch.”

      She caught the keys somewhere near her knees. Staring at them, she adjusted the strap of her evening bag before she stood up and looked up. “Are you serious?”

      “Only if you’ll drive it with the top down,” he said, taking her evening bag and setting it in the back seat.

      She pulled in a slow, deep breath as a smile grew on her face. “Now?”

      “Now. I love that word. It has such an immediate feel to it,” he said, as he opened the car door and helped her into the driver’s seat. By the time he’d walked around the car and gotten in on the passenger side, she’d inserted the key, started the engine and was wrapping her fingers around the walnut gear-shift knob. “Are you always this eager for a new adventure?” he asked, as he connected his seat belt.

      She pumped the gas once and the purring engine roared with promise. “I am since I met you.”

      Adjusting the hem of her dress on her thigh, she shifted smoothly, then eased off the clutch. As the convertible rolled to the end of the lit driveway, her hair was already lifting in the breeze. Looking left, then right, she gunned the motor to a ripping roar this time. Her eyes brightened and a smile flashed across her face at the animal sound. “Ready?”

      “Ready,” he said, giving her a thumb’s-up.

      A shot of adrenaline buzzed through his veins as she pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the main road. Easing back in the passenger seat, he let out a hopeful sigh. With Beth Langdon beside him he could legitimately excuse himself from any more business talk with Duncan for tonight. Good friend or not, Duncan had to get the message soon. Reese was not going to the United States to sell his champagne. At least, not this year, when Harrison Montgomery was claiming half the sound bites on CNN. Reese rubbed his face in quiet frustration. The senator’s familiar image was everywhere these days, but there was one place he could happily escape it. Turning his attention to the woman beside him, he smiled.

      With her hair whipping around her head in a wild halo of spun gold, she smiled back. Her fresh, unstudied reaction delighted him beyond reason. He didn’t know a thing about her, except that she appeared not to have a care in the world. And suddenly he was sharing that sentiment.

      “How does it feel?” he asked, as enchanted with her as she was with the car.

      “Like heaven on wheels,” she said, competently shifting down when a service van pulled out from a side road in front of them.

      As she slowed the Jaguar, Reese angled his body toward her. He hadn’t seen anyone enjoy the simple act of driving a car as much as she was. She alternately stroked the wheel with her thumb and glided her palm along its curve. He imagined that same smile on her as a teenager with her first car. In typical American tradition, she’d probably named it.

      When she began lightly tapping her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, he nudged the side of her thigh. “Time to make a move, Beth.”

      She gave him a quick questioning look, then returned her gaze to the road. “What do you mean?”

      “It’s pretty much a straightaway for several miles.” He leaned closer, resting his hand on his knee near the gear shift. “Pass the van. I’ll watch you.”

      Maneuvering the car a foot to the left, she checked up the road for oncoming traffic.

      “Clear?”

      “I can see all the way to Italy,” she said teasingly. Holding her hair away from her face, she added, “Now?”

      Reese braced his hand on the dash close to the gearshift knob. “Now.” She steered the car smoothly into the opposite lane. “Excellent.” Glancing down the road, he could see a set of headlights cresting over a rise. “You’re fine, just give it more gas.”

      Her chin rose a fraction of an inch, the only sign of her increased concentration. He could sense her excitement and rode with it like a tail wind. “A little faster.” At that moment the service van driving beside them began speeding up. Wrapping her hands more firmly around the knob, she stepped into the clutch, pulled back on the stick and missed the gear. The approaching car blinked its headlights in warning. His first instinct was to take over. “Get ready on the clutch,” he said, attempting to remove her hand from the knob.

      “Trust me. I’ve got it,” she said, her voice steady, determined, her grip sure.

      In that tense and vital moment, he found himself ignoring his first impulse. Something deep inside told him to let go. To trust her. He did, and a second later, she maneuvered the stick into gear, pressed down on the accelerator and slipped the car back into their lane ahead of the van. With only seconds to spare, the oncoming car whizzed passed them.

      Several wordless moments passed, with only the purring motor and his thumping heart filling the silence. “Ange polisson, you give a wild ride,” he said, before bowing his head in slightly exaggerated relief. After a respectful moment, he made the sign of the cross, then looked at her with mischief in his eyes. “I feel as if we should be sharing a cigarette.” Before she could respond, he pointed to a restaurant sign partially hidden in shrubbery a short way up the road. “The answer to my prayers. We’re here.”

      Pulling into the parking lot, she parked the car and removed the key. Tucking the key ring into his hand, she closed her warm fingers over his fist.

      “Ange pollison? What exactly does that mean?”

      “Naughty angel.”

      “Well, this naughty angel thanks you for making one of her fantasies come true.” She smiled. “She owes you one.”

      Over the past few days he’d been gathering a number of adjectives to describe his mystery lady, but they all fell in line behind his newest revelation. Spirited. Beth Langdon just might be the one to help him out of his bind with Duncan. He watched as she unhooked her seat belt, then turned to face him. Planting a hand on the edge of his seat, she leaned closer. Her lips shimmered in the parking-lot light.

      “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

      As much as he was tempted to lean over and kiss that smug little smile from her face, he wasn’t going to. Not until the plan forming in his mind was clear to him. Shaking his head, he touched one of her diamond ear clips, then traced the curve of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know a damned thing about you. Why you followed me, where you’re from, anything about your background—”

      “Is background important to you?”

      He held her gaze steady with his, but didn’t say anything for several seconds. “About that game you were playing with me last night at the casino—”

      “The game I won?” she asked, cutting in again.

      He shook his head once. “I’m not talking about roulette.”

      “You’re not?”

      “No, mon ange polisson,” he said, moving his fingertip over her lips. “When you play roulette, you play against the house. I want to know about the game you were playing with me.” Curving his hands around her rib cage, he urged her closer. “The one you’re still playing.”

      “Why?” she asked, СКАЧАТЬ