Page 32 of Fast-Track Fiancé

He rolled her over his arm, stepping around her and pulling her back up against his chest. ‘This is a dance about trust, about passion.’

‘And speed and precision too, surely,’ she argued, her foot stepping squarely upon his and making him wince.

‘That too.’ He chuckled, lowering her slowly over his arm so that her back arched and her breath caught. ‘But mostly...it’s about giving in to your deepest desires...letting go of all restraint and trusting your partner enough to catch you when you do.’

They stood for a long moment in the pose, with Nina’s eyes not leaving his as he slowly pulled her back up to standing.

‘I want to let go,’ she whispered softly. ‘I want to believe that I can...that it won’t just lead me to a path of regrets. But I’ve never been a good partner...in the dance, I mean.’

He looked into her eyes, knowing that she hadn’t just been talking about the dance, just as he hadn’t either. But he couldn’t think of the right words to say without sounding entirely mad. Trust me, Nina. Stay with me. Marry me.

He closed his eyes, remembering how important her racing career was to her, how she’d said she never wanted to be seen as a society princess, like her mother. She was still young, quite a bit younger than him. He had been her first lover, for goodness’ sake. Marriage and motherhood were likely long-term goals for her, if they were even on her radar at all. Surely he was being selfish by wanting to keep her?

Not to mention he had yet to reveal the truth behind his deal with her brother. Non-disclosure agreement or not, he had to be fully honest with her if he had any chance of proposing they keep their arrangement going past the end of the season. Would she ever be able to forgive him for keeping secrets from her? Would she understand why he’d done it and that it had been the only way to save the Roux company from bankruptcy and complete collapse? He’d stayed silent, according to the conditions of the NDA, but it had become increasingly difficult as the guilt had started eating him up inside. And now he’d run out of time.

But he had to try. He had to hope that once Nina understood the full implications of his actions, she’d forgive him. Because he knew now with full certainty that, despite everything standing against them, it was the only thing he wanted.

He wanted Nina Roux in his life for real.

The Falco Aerodrome was an impressive new circuit that had been purpose-built for this year’s Elite One Premio race by Tristan himself, which he proudly talked her through as they took a tour of the paddock. Nina had noticed that Tristan had seemed extra attentive in the two days since the wedding, but she’d put it down to the abundance of amazing sex they’d been having. But with the race now only a few days away, she knew she had to get back to her routine as soon as possible and try to regain her focus.

When Tristan was called into a meeting up in the executive boardrooms, she took the chance to take a tour of the Falco Roux garages where their team had already begun to set up in preparation for the upcoming race weekend. She was in the middle of inspecting an upgrade she’d overseen on their engine injection system when footsteps pounded down the tarmac outside and a man appeared in her peripheral vision. She stood up, expecting to see one of their mechanics, but instead froze with recognition.

Her brother stood in the entryway of the garage, his dark hair and eyes so like her own as he looked awkwardly around before stepping inside.

‘Alain.’ She gasped in shock. ‘What...what are you doing here?’

‘Falco stopped answering my calls, and I needed to speak to you about this in person.’

Her stomach tightened at the look on her brother’s face, all elation at seeing him melting away. He wasn’t here to apologise to her for what he’d done or even to cheer their team on. He was here with the exact same look on his face as he’d had on the day when he’d told her about the sale of the Roux company.

‘What would you need to speak to Tristan about?’ she said coldly. ‘You already walked away from all of this, Alain. You abandoned ship.’

Alain sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that reminded her so much of their father. He was like him in many ways.

‘He hasn’t told you anything about the deal we made yet, has he?’

‘I know how easily you sold our family company to him for a tidy sum, practically bankrupting me in the process. I trusted you. I thought you were trying to save the company, not ruin it.’

Alain shook his head, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. ‘I never went to him with the intention of selling. We were going to go bankrupt whether I sold or not. You have to believe that I wanted to save our family’s legacy, Nina. Your legacy. I know I’ve made so many mistakes.’

‘Understatement of the year,’ Nina muttered.

‘You’re angry at me, and that’s fair. But I’m not the man you knew any more—the party boy, the wastrel. My recovery has taught me to accept the consequences of my actions and I guess now is the time I start doing that.’

Recovery? The consequences of his actions? Who on earth was this man and where was her brother? ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘The company was in bad shape when I took over from dad, but I made it all worse. I got into serious debt, Nina. Gambling debt. I refused to admit that I had a problem, until I got into a very high-stakes poker game with Tristan Falco.’ Alain shook his head, walking as if to go towards the small bar at the wall before turning away with a hiss of breath. ‘Old habits...’

Nina looked at her brother then, really looked at him and saw how much weight he’d lost since she’d last seen him. He looked...healthy. Not like a man who’d been partying on a yacht in the Mediterranean for the entire summer. His eyes were clear, he was clean-shaven and well dressed and, above all, he appeared sober.

Much like with their mother and father, the tradition of excessive partying, including drinking and gambling, among other vices, was not generally spoken of in their family. Nothing was mentioned other than clothing styles and newspaper articles and how they appeared to the outside world. They were a rotten apple with the prettiest, shiniest skin.

‘That was my rock-bottom, Nina. I bet our family company in a poker game.’

‘How could that be true? How would no one know?’

‘Because Tristan took pity on me. He agreed to stage it as a takeover, and we signed a non-disclosure agreement to keep it all under wraps. He gave me a year to sort myself out. He cut a deal, to freeze our shares while he took control of the majority and worked on bringing the company back to solvency. He always intended to give it back.’

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