Full Throttle (The Revved Series) (15 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Budapest Beat

The next city on the tournament circuit is Budapest, in
Hungary. Team Ferrelli touches down and sets to work at once, frenzied to
maintain its lead. I drop off my things in the small but elegant hotel suite and
scramble to check my phone for word of Harrison’s whereabouts. Sure enough,
he’s texted me the name of a hotel where we can meet up. I gather my things,
all smiles, and yank open my door.

“Oh!” I cry, finding myself face-to-face with my father.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, striding
into my suite.

“I’m...uh...meeting Bex for a...PR meeting,” I lie, and
lamely at that.

“Good,” my father says, clapping his hands together, “That’s
what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” I ask nervously.

“Yes indeed,” my dad says, ushering me to the sitting room
of my suite. “You’ve been doing a great job talking your brother up so far,
Siena. Really. There’s this ferocity to your approach all of a sudden, this
energy. You’ve really stepped up your game this time around. I don’t know what
you’re doing differently, but you should keep it up.”

If only he knew what was different about this tournament for
me, he might rethink that suggestion. But I swallow my words and smile,
grateful for the rare compliment. “Thanks Dad,” I say, “Enzo’s been doing an
amazing job. It makes my work a lot easier when all I have to do is remind
people what a great driver he is.”

“True,” Dad says, “But the way you’ve been handling
yourself, lately. You seem so much more confident and at ease. It’s nice to
see.”

“Wow,” I laugh, unsure of how to handle my father’s praise,
“Thanks, pa. So, what is it you need from me, if you already like the way I’ve
been handling Enzo’s PR this go around?”

“Well,” Dad says, “I have some concerns about that Davies
character.”

“Ah...” I say, wary of Dad’s tone.

“We’ve managed to keep him in check so far, but it’s no
secret that he’s becoming more of a problem,” Dad says, “I think we need to cut
him off at the pass a little. Start turning public opinion about him. He’s a
charismatic guy, I’ll give him that. And let’s be honest, Enzo can be a little
prickly with the press.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” I ask.

“I think we should draw the public’s awareness to the
less...savory elements of this Harrison person’s character,” my dad says,
leaning in conspiratorially.

“What elements would those be?” I ask sharply.

“Well, are you aware of who this guy’s father was?” Dad
asks.

“Sure. He’s Walther Davies kid. What does that have to do
with anything?”

“It has everything to do with...Do you know anything about
Walther Davies, Siena?”

“He was a driver. A good one, at that,” I say, “Died a few
years ago. Had some...personal problems.”

“You can say that again,” Dad says, “And he didn’t just die
a few years ago, he drank himself to death. I knew Walther back when he was
still at the top of his game. He was a cocky hothead, a womanizer, and an all
around son of a bitch.”

“Fine,” I say, “But I still don’t understand how that has
anything to do with Harrison.”

“I’m just saying. It might make sense to suggest that the
apple doesn’t fall far from the tree...” my dad says.

“You want me to slander Harrison Davies in front of the
press?” I say, my voice hollow.

“Don’t be dramatic about it,” Dad says, “I don’t think you
should call for his head. Just...drag him through the mud a little. Harrison’s
a bad boy and a loose cannon, just like this old man.”

“You don’t know that,” I snap, “You’ve never even met him.”

“I’ve seen enough of his attitude on the track,” Dad says
resolutely.

“The only time he’s snapped during a race was when Enzo
attacked him,” I say, “It was your son who started that fight.”

“And Davies was more than happy to engage,” Dad says,
“What’re you getting so worked up about?”

“I’m just shocked that you would ask me to do this,” I
cover, “That’s never been how we do things, Dad.”

“Well, we’ve never had a competitor like Harrison Davies,”
he says, his jaw set. “Desperate times, this is Enzo's year.”

“Dad, I’m sorry, but I can’t do what you’re asking me,” I
say, “If what you want is rumor and speculation...Well, maybe you should hire
another PR manager.”

“Maybe I’ll have to,” my dad mutters, standing up from the
couch.

“Wh-what?” I splutter.

“If you’re not willing to go that extra mile for your
family—”

“It’s playing dirty,” I protest, “We’ve never sunk down to
that level before! Think about what you’re asking me, Dad. Is ruining
Harrison’s reputation really the way you want to keep our lead in this
tournament? That’s beneath you, it's beneath our family.”

“Don’t presume to lecture me about my family's honor,
Siena,” Dad spits, “I won’t have back talk from you.”

“Stop it,” I say, rising from the couch, “Don’t talk down to
me like I’m an angst-ridden teenager, Dad.”

“Then grow up and do your job,” he shoots back, “Or I’ll find
someone else who can.”

He storms out of the room before I can say another word,
slamming the door behind him. My entire body is shaking with suppressed
outrage. How dare he ask me to do something like this! What is going on with my
family, all of a sudden? Between Enzo acting like an inconsiderate jerk on the
track, putting the other drivers’ lives in danger, and my father suggesting
that I spread shit about Harrison’s father...it’s all too much. This tournament
is changing them, and not for the better.

A soft knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I
storm across the suite. I yank open the door, expecting my father to have come
back for another round. But standing there in the hallway is Bex, looking
rather alarmed by my stormy demeanor.

“What the hell is up?” she asks, “You look like you’re ready
to bite my head off.”

“Just my insane freaking father,” I vent, turning to grab my
purse up and make my exit.

“Where are you off to?” she asks, “You might want to take a
minute.”

“I’m meeting Harrison,” I tell her in a whisper.

“Seriously?” she asks, “You’ve been doing this almost every
night, Siena. Aren’t you worried that someone’s going to catch onto you?”

“What?” I say, “You’re the one who’s been encouraging me to
see him.”

“Yeah, once in a while for a good roll in the hay,” she
says, “But this is on a whole new level, Siena. What’s going on between you
guys?”

“I’m not sure...” I say, “But whatever it is, I intend to
see it through.”

“I wish you’d be more careful,” Bex says softly.

“I wish you’d support me in this,” I retort.

“I do support you. Always,” she says, “I’m just worried
about you, is all. If this thing is dragged out into the open...Siena, it could
be disastrous for you.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” I say, pushing past my
friend.

“And you’re still going to keep it up?” she asks.

“Absolutely,” I say.

“He means that much to you? I thought this was just a fling,
Siena.”

“I thought so too, at first,” I say, “But now, I’m not so
sure.”

“Just be careful, would you?” she pleads.

“I always am,” I say, stealing away to meet Harrison once
again.

***

He opens the door to the hotel room before I can even knock.
His haughty, charming smile falls an inch when he sees the look on my face.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, pulling me into the spacious
room and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Oh, you know...” I say, pulling my lips into a strained
smile, “We’re sneaking around in a foreign country, my entire family hates you,
my friends think I’m insane, and my job is on the line...”

“But hey,” Harrison says, brushing an errant curl behind my
cheek, “We’re here together, aren’t we?”

“That’s no small grace, I’ll give you that much,” I say,
laying my hands on Harrison’s broad shoulders, “But something’s got to give,
Davies.”

He sighs, pulling me by the hand into the cushy bedroom of
the suite. That familiar fire roars to life in my belly as I find myself alone
with Harrison once again. I swear, it’s like the man sends out a miles-wide
force field of irresistible sexuality. And the closer I get to its epicenter,
the lower my inhibitions fall. Now here I am, just a pace or two away from him.
It’s all I can do to keep from tackling him onto the sprawling king bed and
allow our situation to go unspoken of for another week. But with Dad and Enzo
bearing down on me to wreck Harrison’s reputation, I’ve got to stay strong and
get through this.

“How does a vodka martini sound?” Harrison asks, producing a
bottle of fine booze from the hotel fridge.

“Like just the ticket,” I tell him, sitting on the edge of
the bed.

I let my eyes rake recklessly over his body as he turns away
to make the cocktails. It’s a long journey for my gaze, from his dirty blonde
hair, down his muscular back, shapely ass, all the way down to his feet planted
so firmly on the ground. He towers over me at six feet and change, and every
inch of him is absolutely turbo charged with raw power. I can’t help but replay
every steamy moment we’ve shared together over the past couple of weeks as I
try to work up the nerve to have the “relationship talk”. I cringe a little
just thinking about it.

“Here you are,” Harrison says, handing me my martini,
“You’ve earned it.”

“You’re the one who’s been putting your life on the line on
a weekly basis,” I laugh, raising my glass to him.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “But I live to do that. You’re the one
who has to spend her weeks wrangling media sharks and badly behaved Ferrelli
boys.”

“Maybe I live for
that
,”
I say, taking a sip of my strong, dirty drink.

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” Harrison says,
sitting down beside me.

“What, you don’t think I’m suited for it?” I ask, brushing
at an imaginary speck on lint on my dark skinny jeans.

“That’s not it at all,” he says, sounding shocked. “If
anything, it seems like you should have a bigger role where the team is
concerned. You should shaping the sport itself, not shaping the reputations of
single drivers.”

I feel myself swelling with pride at Harrison’s suggestion.
For some reason, his faith in me means more than anyone’s ever has. My dad and
brother have always allowed me a place on Team Ferrelli, but no one’s ever
really acknowledged my potential. Not like this.

“How can you think so highly of me?” I ask Harrison, “We’ve
hardly known each other for a month.”

“And for a month, you’ve been an unstoppable, scrappy,
determined force,” Harrison laughs, “I have a feeling there’s nothing you can’t
get if you put your mind to it.”

“There may be...one thing,” I say, dropping my gaze from
his.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I sigh, “You.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, resting a strong hand
on the small of my back, “You’ve got me. Right here.”

“For a couple of hours, sure,” I say, “But once we’ve had a
little fun, we’ll go back to Ferrelli and McClain, peering at each other over
the line drawn in the sand.”

“I’ll still be thinking about you,” Harrison offers, closing
the space between us. His breath on my neck almost knocks the words from my
mind, but I have to keep going.

“I’ll be thinking about you too,” I tell him, letting my
eyes flutter closed as he brushes his lips against my throat, “But I’d
rather...I’d rather not...”

“What?” he asks, pulling away, “You’d rather not...be seeing
me?”

“No!” I exclaim, sending a slosh of vodka over the rim of my
glass, “Exactly the opposite! Harrison, I’d rather see nobody but you. In a
perfect world, that is.”

“In a world far away from F1, you mean,” he says.

“Pretty much,” I say.

“Did something...happen, Siena?” Harrison asks, “Did
someone, you know. Find out about us or—?”

“No, of course not,” I say quickly, “I mean...Bex knows, to
be perfectly honest.”

“To be perfectly honest...Andy does, too,” Harrison smiles
sheepishly.

“Best friends. What’re you gonna do?” I ask, laughing
nervously.

“So then, why the sudden qualms about what we’ve been up
to?” Harrison asks, “I’ve been having a wonderful time with you, Siena.”

“So have I,” I tell him, “But Harrison...how much longer can
be really go without acknowledging the fact that I’m literally sleeping with
the enemy right now?”

“I’m not your enemy,” he points out.

“But you’re my brother’s,” I say, “For all intents and
purposes, that’s the same thing.”

“I don’t buy that,” Harrison says, “You’re a grown woman
with a mind of your own. You can spend time with, sleep with, fall in love with
whoever you damned well please.”