What
is it with some men and their attitudes?
Hot bods, hot blooded and often hot tempered. You
know, speak first, regret it later.
Yeah,
them. They might make you shiver quiver and tingle—however that level of
hotness can be hard to live with. They can't help themselves, bless them, sometimes,
when they try to shield their love from all the nasties that could affect them.
And
we all know how damned annoying that is. Why do they think we're such fragile
little flowers we can't cope. Because if they think that, sometimes, we begin
to think it as well…
And
that's where the problems can start…
My
first book in this series, called their Wives is already out. (The Rock Star's
wife)
On
17th, The Racing Driver's Wife is out.
~~~~~
Some
risks are worth taking…
Racing
driver Gael Lorenzo is used to taking his life in his hands, if only he could
say the same for his errant wife. He meant his wedding vows, and there will
never be another woman for him, but what can he do to win her back?
Darcy
thought she knew the risks of being married to a man who lives for his sport.
The reality of the race track, however, proves too much for her. Nevertheless,
giving Gael up entirely, is not an option either.
When
circumstances force them back into each other’s company, neither one of them
can let this chance go. Together they are stronger than apart, and their
marriage is worth fighting for, isn’t it?
~~~
Here's
a wee tease…
Gael
Lorenzo ducked the remote control as it flew through the air in his direction,
and caught it in one hand.
"How
on earth you ever get from A to B when your coordination is so bad I have no
conception," he said as he walked into the room and put the control down
on the table. He made sure it was well out of Darcy's arm reach. He knew how
sneaky she could be if she thought the occasion warranted it. Damned if he
wasn’t more nervous then before a race. He was under no illusion that the next
few moments were going to be sticky. "That was more likely to hit the
window than me."
Darcy
made a sound somewhere between a scream and a snort. "Ass. You scared the
living daylights out of me. And as for your one-upmanship, how on earth you lie
so successfully and don't bat an eyelid, I have no conception," Darcy
said. "‛My wife is my life’," she parroted and rolled her eyes.
"Oh yeah, that'll be right. After your car, your team and…"
"And
nothing, cara." One-upmanship? He'd thought he was very restrained. He
made no mention of open doors, lack of security, self-preservation or the like.
"You believe what you will, but I speak the truth. If my wife would let it
be so." He shrugged. "Then it would be. However, she chooses to live
her own life, and I have to accept that." He winced as he became
oh-so-very Italian. It was a measure of his concern and the knowledge of just
how important this meeting was.
Darcy
turned toward the television where the bouncy idiot he'd had to endure warbled
on in her happy-clappy manner. Gael braced himself. He knew what was about to
come, and he'd hoped to speak to Darcy beforehand. It seemed a tractor and
trailer, and a laden log lorry who just knew they owned the road, had put paid
to that. He'd spent twenty minutes breathing their fumes, before passing in a
spot only the brave or foolhardy would use. It wasn't that you couldn't see any
oncoming traffic—the road ran straight for nigh on half a mile. It was the
width of the ruts and gravel that was tricky. Gael got by with no more than an
inch on each side and a dozen or so scratches from the gravel where it jumped
up and scored the paintwork. As it was a hire car, he guessed that his chance
of a cheap rental ever again had just disappeared down the toilet.
"…and
so you say this woman is lying?" The voice reverberated around the room.
"In fact you're happily married? There is a wife, but she's not hidden
away somewhere? So why isn't she with you? Are you estranged?"
Darcy
turned to him, and if he had one wish, it would be to banish the pained look in
her eyes. Heaven help him, he'd done his best to avert the interview, but some
ferrety reporter had discovered he was married and of course it was full bodied
fodder for the gossip columns. Gael knew fine and well how his boring, no
companion, race, practice, test, train and sleep regime annoyed them. Even more
so because in his youth he'd kept most of them in business.
"Cara,
I…"
"Shh,
I'm listening to what my husband has decided to say." Darcy turned her
back on him. "Even if he chooses not to say it to me. Strange, that."
Gael
spent a few seconds admiring the curve of her spine and the way a few tendrils
of reddish brown hair tickled the nape of her neck before he shrugged and
wandered into the kitchen. After several wrong attempts he found mugs and
coffee and set the stovetop machine on the hotplate to percolate.
It
was inevitable this day would come, but he wished it hadn't been mid season,
where his chances for in-depth discussion would be few and far between. Unless
he could persuade Darcy to accompany him to the track, and after today there
was less likelihood of that than persuading her to fly to the moon.
He
was pouring the liquid into two mugs when a sound alerted him to her presence.
She leaned against the doorjamb, her long legs bare and a tiny skirt and
strappy top covering what needed to be covered to preserve her decency.
"What
a load of cobblers you spouted. 'My wife
has a busy life and we prefer to have our time together without interruptions.
Those moments are precious and I'm greedy enough not to want to share them with
anyone else. Lucky for me she feels the same'." Darcy parroted his
explanation in the interview in a sarcastic tone. "Yuck, so icky-sicky. Why
didn't you just divorce me?" She held her sunglasses by one of the arms
and spun them around before jamming them on her nose. "You have grounds. I
left you."
It
was a pity, because Gael could no longer see her eyes to gauge her reaction to
his words. "Sadly I couldn't find any Italian coffee, but I've done the
best I could."
"You
get whatever was on offer and lump it. I buy for myself, not for unwelcomed
guests."
He
winced very theatrically, and was immediately ashamed when she coloured and
looked away from him.
"Why
should I divorce you? I took my vows in all faith, and intended to abide by
them. I still do. In sickness and in health, in good times and bad. Etcetera.
The fact we are apart does not negate my love for you. That strengthens every
day. It is above everything. It's your choice not to be with me, and I have to
accede to your preference." He took a swallow of coffee and grimaced.
"It was pigs’ swill on sale, cara. You were robbed if they called it
coffee. False advertising."
"Join
the real world, caro. See how the most of us live."
Happy
Reading.
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