Page 5 of Start Your Engines

Niki sighs. “Connor drives for us now. I’ve signed him for two years. It was the last thing I did before I left.”

Senna stamps her foot, and I try not to laugh or focus on how her wide-legged trousers hide the long legs I recall from the split in her dress at the wedding. “But?—”

“He can’t get a contract anywhere else because he drove like a dickhead last season,” Niki adds. “Vessa kicked him out, and no one wants him on their team.”

She stares at me and mouths, “Liability.”

I wink at her, and she glares back.

“Oi,” Niki says, drawing us back to him. “Senna, you know that Connor is a great driver and could be excellent if he stopped being Dane the Dick.”

“We both know why I’m called that, and it’s not because of my driving,” I banter, earning me a scowl from Senna. I grin and lift my eyebrows at her, the swirls hitting my belly again. “It’s not the insult you want it to be, Senna, and many women will wax lyrical about my?—”

“I can’t work with this idiot. This playboy. He’s going to ruin us,” Senna gripes at the screen, although it’s me she’s sticking her middle finger up at.

“No, he’s not. Connor will give us a chance to succeed, and he will be a very good boy, too.”

“I’m no one’s good boy.” My eyes snap back to his and away from his sister, although I want to witness her reaction.

“Senna, please leave the boardroom. I need to talk to Connor alone.”

She stamps her foot again, and a smile replaces the glare I’ve aimed at Niki.

“You can’t order me out of my boardroom. I’m the boss now. You were the one who told me that before you left. My team need to see me as the boss if they’re going to be on my side.”

I want to comfort her. Even as a teenager, Senna fought for every ounce of respect from the team.

But I don’t. I can’t.

“Just this once. I promise. I need to have this chat, but then the room, Connor, and the whole team are yours. Okay?”

She side-eyes me with a loathing that would make me feel like crap if I wasn’t certain she’s secretly struggling with anxiety about everything forced upon her.

“Fine. You’ve got five minutes, and then I’ll be back.”

“All right, Princess,” I tease, but she strides out of the room without a backward glance.

“Love you, Niki,” she shouts as the door bangs behind her.

As I watch her go, I remember her destroying me before a race when we were teenagers. I’d commented there’d never be a female Formula One racing driver. She beat me that day and changed my mind, too. Something sparks in my chest that I must ignore.

“What the hell, man?” I grunt at the screen. “We had a deal.”

“Open the door a second.”

My brow furrows, but I walk to the door and yank it open. Senna falls against my chest. The scent of orange blossom with a hint of mango envelop me. My hands skim her hips before she pushes her arms against my chest, huffs, and retreats in the direction of the bathroom. I lick my lips slowly before remembering I’m meant to be angry with her brother.

I return to the boardroom screen.

“So?” I snap, my hands flexing from our brief touch. Fuck, I shouldn’t be attracted to her like this, especially as I chat to her brother. “You told me you were signing me so we could realise our teenage dream and make this team the best in the world.”

“Nothing has changed.”

“Except we’re not doing this together.” My voice booms. “And your sister, who hates me, is my boss.”

“She hates you because you haven’t talked to her since you visited ours after her accident.”

“Because she wouldn’t talk to me.”

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