Page 28 of Driven by Desire

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Riley had about three minutes to enjoy her very decisive victory before all hell broke loose. One moment she was being tossed up in Wendell’s arms, showered in champagne, being offered sponsorship by a prestigious car manufacturer, praised on her hairpin turns by Jun-young, who came in third, and the next moment, she was torn rudely away from Wendell. She gasped as Wendell was thrown across the hood of the burning hot car, with Soloman’s hand tight around his neck.

“You let her race my fucking car,” Soloman growled down at the other man. “You know how much danger she put herself in and you let her fucking race.”

Riley realized right away Soloman meant to actually kill him when Wendell started choking and turning red. She wedged herself between the two men, pressing herself into Soloman as close as she could. He didn’t take his eyes off Wendell.

“Soloman, no!” she yelled, but he refused to take his eyes off Wendell.

She could see his powerful biceps flexing against his T-shirt and the tattoos rippling down his arm. Tears gathered in her eyes and she felt real fear as she maneuvered herself even closer against him, moulding her body against his and wrapping her arms around his throat. Her eyes met Roman's cold gaze over Soloman’s shoulder.

“Help me!” she called out to Roman.

He ignored her and turned his head to bark at someone else to stay back when they would have intervened. Riley could feel the fight draining from Wendell’s body as the oxygen left him. She reached up and grabbed Soloman’s face, pulling it down to hers and forcing him to meet her frantic gaze.

“Please, Soloman,” she begged, tears bright in her chocolate eyes. “Don’t hurt him.”

His face was set in hard, ruthless lines. His scarred lips an unrelenting slash of cold fury. She was positive he couldn't hear her when, after a moment, he dropped his forehead to hers. She felt a subtle relaxation in his body and knew he had loosened his fingers when she heard Wendell choke and wheeze behind her. She reached back and gripped her friend’s hand to assure herself he was still alive. His fingers twitched around hers.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Katie flying toward them, running as fast as she could on her four inch wedges, screaming her brother’s name. Since Dexter Pullman’s death, Katie and Wendell had become extremely family oriented and protective of each other. Roman caught her around the middle and held her tight against his chest while she kicked and screamed.

“Look at me,” Soloman commanded, drawing Riley’s attention back to her own drama. She could feel the seething fury still surrounding his large frame, but he was attempting to put a leash on it. “Get in the fucking car now and I won't kill your friend.”

“Don't... go…” Wendell rasped from behind her, his voice a harsh gasp.

Soloman wrapped a thick arm around Riley’s waist, hauled her off Wendell’s body and into the heat of his own. Then he kicked Wendell off the car and into the dirt. When Wendell looked as though he would rise, Soloman kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling back into the dirt. Riley lunged forward, intent on getting to her friend, but Soloman held her so tight she knew there would be bruises on her arms.

He lifted her up against his chest and spoke in her ear, “Get in the car and he lives.”

Holding her by the waist with one strong arm, he took her hand in a hard grip with his other hand and guided it around his back. He forced her to feel the gun that was at his back. She gasped and went rigid against him, her eyes wide on Wendell who was rolling in the dirt choking.

“Give me a reason to end him,” Soloman breathed in her ear, his jaw scraping against her ear and his breath brushing against her cheek. “I’ll do it right here in front of everyone. In front of his baby sister.”

Riley’s eyes flickered to Katie who was sobbing in Roman's arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her knees had buckled and he was clearly holding her up in one strong arm while keeping an eye on the crowd of curious onlookers. Jun-young caught Riley’s eye and raised an eyebrow in question. She gave him a tiny shake of her head. She so didn't need anyone else to get involved in this mess.

She turned to look at Soloman, her lips barely brushing his as she whispered, “I’ll go with you.”

He nodded and pushed her away from the hood of the car with a hard hand at her waist. She stumbled back. He opened the passenger side door and pushed her down into the seat. Riley stared up at his cold, implacable face and shivered. As the door slammed down she knew it was closing on her independence. She defied Soloman Hart, despite his many warnings, and now she was about to pay the consequences.

He got into the Koenigsegg with her and fired the engine. Someone pulled Wendell out of the way, thank god, because she was certain Soloman would’ve run over him if he was still laying in the dirt. She stared helplessly out the window as they sped away from what should have been her shining moment of victory. She wondered if she would even see the prize money or if Soloman would lock her up so tight she would never even hear the words Sparrow Hawk Cup again, let alone speak to the race organizers. She glanced sideways at his terrifyingly sinister visage and decided she would wait until later to ask him.

***

After four solid hours of ignoring him, exhaustion from a long, adrenaline-fueled day finally won and Riley fell asleep. She sat slumped in her seat with her arm curled against the door and her head tucked in the curve. Her chestnut ponytail cascaded across the side of her face and over her chest, frustrating his efforts to watch her sleep as he drove. Her other hand was curled innocently in her lap, her black chipped nail polish facing him.

He reached across the space separating them and, as gently as possible, pulled the long curls of her hair aside so he could see her face as she slept. He smoothed the soft hair against her shoulder where it stayed, obedient to his wishes. Her plump lips were slightly parted against the curve of her slender fingers, where her head rested against the window.

Fuck. The things he wanted to do to that mouth were so far from innocent. It was everything he could do not to pull the car over and give into the urge. Especially now that she had willingly handed herself over to him. He didn't even care that he’d coerced her into getting into the car. As far as he was concerned, she gave herself to him. In his world, he could now do whatever he wanted to with her. She belonged to him. And the savage in him wanted to fucking tear her to pieces in the best possible way.

The rage he’d felt when he saw her in his car was indescribable. It was not something he’d ever felt before. When he did business, it was always with a cool head. When he killed, it was with icy calm. He did not make decisions without deliberation. But what he felt when he saw Riley take off down the side of the mountain in such a powerful, dangerous car, racing against men that would try to kill her on every curve, was complete and utter blackout rage.

He couldn't kill the woman that put herself in the damn car, so he was going to fucking murder the next best person. The man that helped put her there. Wendell Pullman, her mechanic and wingman. He would have done it, too, without a moment’s remorse, if she hadn’t stood between them and begged him not to. Riley Bancroft now had the pleasure of being the only person on the damn planet to pull him back from a kill once he made up his mind.

He glanced at her again, taking in the shadowy sweep of her long, dark lashes against her cheekbones. The smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose were beginning to show from time spent outdoors over the past several days. She also had more of a tan now. Soon they would arrive home and he would no longer have to deny himself access to this woman. He would fuck away the fury and bury the rage in that delicious body. She would finally belong to him in every way he’d imagined since first setting eyes on her.

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