The Woman Sent to Tame Him

CHAPTER TEN


‘WHAT’S GOING ON?’ Serena tucked her bike helmet under one arm, shook the damp kinks out of her hair with the splayed fingers of her free hand and closed in on the small crowd gathered at the pits. ‘What’s the SL1 doing down here?’

One glance at her big beauty, squatting on the Silverstone circuit, looking every inch the sleek, glorious feline she was, and Serena felt her heart swell up with pride.

It wasn’t until the silence stretched that she realised several pairs of peepers were soaking in the sight of her going all goo-goo—over a car, for heaven’s sake. Sometimes you’re such a girl, Serena.

Tearing her eyes away, she glanced up at Finn and thought, Oh, great, here we go again.

The early-morning sun picked out the bronze and golden tones of his hair and his deep cerulean eyes twinkled knowingly.

‘Good morning, Little Miss Designer, how nice of you to roll out of bed to join us.’

His voice was deep and devastating, richly amused and lathered in sin. Then his delicious fresh scent whispered on the breeze to douse her body with scads of heat.

‘While you’ve been getting your beauty sleep I’ve driven fifty laps in your pride and joy.’

Tensing, she felt the hard lip of her helmet dig into her hip. ‘I don’t understand.’ The only reason he would practise in her racer was if her dad had changed his mind—

Her stomach began to fizz—which was absurd. Serena knew the kind of miracle that would take, and she didn’t think Finn had demolished every car on the fleet. Yet.

Saying that, she’d rarely seen those dark clouds of guilt overshadowing him during the two weeks since Montreal. And the thought that she’d succeeded in finagling his attention long enough for him to move on made her soul smile.

Finn swiftly dispersed the group with an arrogant jerk of his head and leaned against the car’s lustrous patina. Then he crossed his arms over a delicious cerise polo shirt and ran his tongue over his supremely sensual mouth.

A mouth she shouldn’t be staring at, hungering for. The problem was, her new BF had taken her to the heights of ecstasy, and every time she looked his way every blissful, shattering moment came back on a scalding rush.


Car, Serena. Focus.

‘So what did you think? Of my car?’ A sudden swoop of nervy fireflies initiated a frenzy behind her ribs.

‘She’s much like the woman who designed her. A fiery bolt of lightning.’

Okay, then. A few happiness bugs decided to join the midriff party. ‘She handles well?’

‘Unbe-frickin-lievebly. She pulls more G’s than a space shuttle. Her curves are divine and she worships the tarmac. She’s a dream, Serena. You’ve done an amazing job.’

The world vanished behind her eyelids as she tried to calm the internal flurry and take a breath. All the hard work, the late nights, the testing and retesting over and over, and still she waited for her dad to tell her she’d done well. But the admiration and respect in Finn’s gaze, from a man who’d driven the greatest cars in the world, was even better.

Oh, who was she kidding? It was awesome. She felt like flying. Having a real girly moment and jumping and whooping. Which was just silly.

‘Good. I’m glad.’

Finn leaned towards her and Serena was lured by his sheer magnetism. She drew forward until his husky breath tickled her ear.

‘You can squeal if you want to, baby, I won’t tell anyone.’

She jerked backwards. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

That fever-pitch-inducing smile widened and one solitary indentation kissed his cheek. Despicable, infuriating, gorgeous man.

‘So how did this happen, anyway? My dad said—’

‘We had it out last night. Talked long enough for him to see sense.’

From nowhere a great thick lump swelled in her throat.

Oh, honestly, he had to stop doing stuff like this. Because every time he did, another teeny slice of her heart tore free and vaulted into his hand. Serena couldn’t recall the last time someone had pushed for what she wanted. Even Tom had tended to side with their dad.

‘You’ll soon learn,’ he began, his voice teasing and darkly sensual, ‘that it’s always best to leave business down to the men, Serena.’

The blissful feeling vanished. ‘You only say that stuff to pee me off.’

A devilish glint entered his eyes...

‘When I tell you my condition you’ll be even more so.’

‘I don’t like that look.’ A little bit shrewd. A whole lot devious.

‘You have to attend the Silverstone Ball tonight. That’s the deal.’

There it went. In point five of a second. ‘It’ being her stomach, hitting ground level with a sickening thud.

‘No way. You know that’s not my scene.’

Black-tie extravaganza to kick off the weekend of racing with VIP clientele and the usual coterie, sipping champagne, dressed up to the nines in...? No.

Just no!

‘Hold up there, handsome. Your condition? What do you need me there for?’

Never mind the dresses and the shoes and the dancing and the mind-numbing chit-chat, if he thought she was suffering that soiree only to watch him portray Lothario he had another think coming!

‘Your car needs to be unveiled and it’s the perfect venue. You have to be there. This is your big moment. You need to revel in it, enjoy it. Come on, Serena, I dare you.’

‘Ooh. Low, Finn, real low.’ The beast knew exactly how to get a rise out of her.

Huffing out a breath, she stared unseeingly at her car while a war raged inside her. As far as big moments went this was pretty huge.

She chose her words carefully. ‘On my own?’

If he was taking a woman she wanted to know so she could prepare herself. It was crucifying, waiting for him to choose a new starlet.

True, she’d been batting away the sneaking suspicion that he’d already done so for days. What with the odd phone calls he refused to answer in front of her. The ones that made his jaw set to granite as his gaze locked on the screen before he glanced at her with something close to remorse.

If not a woman, who else?

Then again, she doubted he’d had the time to wield his charm elsewhere. More often than not they were together. Which brought on a whole new set of problems. Because while she liked having him as a friend—a pretty cool friend, as it turned out, who’d sneaked her into the premiere of the latest action flick last night—it was getting harder and harder to keep her hands off him.

All in all, since Montreal her sanity was slowly being fed through a shredder.

‘You’ll hardly be on your own, Serena. The entire team is going and you’ll be walking in there with me.’ He gave her a wink that made her feel dizzy. ‘I get first dance.’

Oh. Well, then. Those fireflies started doing an Irish jig. He was taking her, not some flashy starlet. He was going to dance with her, not the latest paddock beauty. As friends, of course. Unless he’d changed his mind...

Suddenly her mind made the oddest leap, to a vision of her biker leathers, and a groan ripped from her chest. ‘And what exactly would I wear?’

He chuckled at that. Actually laughed.

‘What’s funny?’

‘And she says she’s not a woman.’

Serena threw him a few daggers, wholly unamused.

‘Don’t worry, okay?’ A smile seeped through his voice. ‘We’ll find something.’

‘We? Are you worried I’ll turn up in T-shirt and jeans and embarrass you?’

Fully expecting some wisecrack, she was unprepared for the way he reached up and tenderly brushed a lock of damp hair from her brow. Only to melt when he stroked down her cheek with the side of his index finger.

‘Listen to me. I would dance all night with you wearing a driver’s suit—I wouldn’t change you for the world. But what I don’t want is for you to feel uncomfortable or out of place. Why don’t you think of it as an adventure? If you have the time of your life, that’s great. If you don’t, nothing lost. At least you’ll have tried. For you. And you’ll have given the SL1 the launch she deserves. Come on, it’ll be fun.’

The only thing she heard were his words I wouldn’t change you for the world. And she knew he meant every single one.

‘Know what I tell every rookie when he faces the fast lane? Fear is a choice. Don’t choose it, Serena.’

In some sort of Finn-induced trance, she murmured, ‘Okay.’

She could do this. Launch her car. Dance with Finn. Keep it friendly.

If he still wanted that. She wasn’t so sure any more. In truth she had no idea why they were still fighting it. Stone-cold morning-after, full of regrets about being one of many.

‘Good.’ He delved into his pocket and whipped out his mobile. ‘I’ll go make some calls and we’ll head back to the Country Club. Within two hours you’ll have half a boutique in your suite.’

Another wink as he backed towards the garage and her insides went gooey.

‘Trust me, baby.’

Trust him.

Why did he always say that? Because he wanted her to trust him so badly? Or was he transmitting some kind of subconscious warning that she shouldn’t? The problem was, his warnings were now falling on deaf ears.

Especially since his predicted ‘stone-cold emptiness’ had evolved regardless. Wherever they went, whatever they did, when the time came to part, stone-cold was exactly what she felt—right down to her bones.

Until her sheets twisted with hot longing and her mind saw an evocative cabaret with her and Finn centre stage. Her only thought: I want that man. I always have and I’m going to have him.

To hell with it all.

It was becoming harder and harder to control that voice, to silence the woman inside.


Serena ambled across the tarmac towards the perimeter, enticed by the serenity of lush green meadows—an endless landscape of possibilities. She struggled to remember if she’d ever seen her life that way. As an adventure. Always the pragmatist, she’d never been a dreamer.

There was Finn, with his rich and wondrous, albeit debauched past, but at least he’d lived life to the full. While she’d been fighting that voice, the woman she was inside, since she was thirteen years old, having just rolled onto her stomach in bed, only to wince as the sensitive mounds of flesh on her chest crushed against the mattress. Then a few days later the stomach pain had come, to signal an even bigger humiliation—how to buy panty liners surrounded by men. And that had been nothing on the hormonal avalanche making her feel confused, wishing more than ever that she had a mum of her own. She’d been lost—like a stranger in her own skin. Trapped in someone else’s body.

Looking back, it was all so clear to her now. Raised a tomboy, she’d hastened to repress her nature. Yet slowly, secretly, she’d begun harbouring fantasies of more. Dreaming. Easily beguiled by a man who’d lured her with lies and deceit, making the temptation to be all things feminine a compulsion she couldn’t resist.

Tipping her face skyward, she let the sun warm her face and breathed through the hurt in her heart. The sinister backlash would stay with her always.

Ever since Finn had made her realise she saw women as weak the idea had rubbed her raw, like a scratch to her psyche.

The naked truth? She was petrified of being a woman. It led her to make bad choices. To walk headlong into betrayal. Pain. Weakness. It led her to lack-lustre sexual encounters as her body fought her will.

So here she was. Twenty-six years old. Still trapped.

Until Finn touched her and she threatened to burst out of her own skin.

Serena knew it was foolhardy but she wanted a good long look at the woman beneath. The person she’d stifled and ignored. And she trusted him.

Fear is a choice.

So hours later, when rails upon rails of dresses in every shape and hue lined her rooms, she duelled with the bouts of anxiety and doubt and managed to conquer each and every one.

For years she’d vowed that her past would not define her. Yet it had. All along. Well, no more.

A strong woman would pursue what she desired. If Finn was prowling for some female company to take to his bed tonight Serena wanted to be it.

They could still be friends afterwards. She’d just have to prove it to him.

* * *

‘I’m in the cocktail bar. Come for me?’

Finn strolled into the bar of the swanky Country Club and made a quick sweep of the softly lit circular lounge.

Designed in a sinuous art nouveau style, the architecture was a showcase for curvy lines where no shadows could lurk and deep furniture made from exotic woods, lending a warmth that pervaded his bones. A warmth that grew hotter as his eyes snagged on his prey, her back facing him, perched on a high stool at a central island bar made of iridescent glass.

Whoosh. His blood surged through his veins, drowning out a soft croon.

For one, two, three beats he stared. Because something was different and he certainty had faltered. Then she leaned towards the barman as if she hung on his every word...tipped her head back with infectious laughter and graced him with her exquisite profile.

‘Holy...’

Confidence. She was incandescent with it.

His heart cramped, stopped and started again, as if he were crashed out on a gurney in need of some chest paddle action.

Commanding his feet to move, he ordered himself to be calm—not to pick her up, twirl her around the floor, tell her she looked every inch the stunning beauty she was. Not to kiss her hard on the mouth before taking her upstairs to slake this crazy lust and devour her gorgeous body for days.

Instead he scoured his mind for an appropriate Finn St George comment that would do the job whilst ensuring they slept between separate sheets—because his control was as treacherous as an oil slick.

This thing, this friendship between them, was taking on a dangerous bent, and losing the precarious hold on his sanity wouldn’t be pretty.

The dilemma being, he couldn’t disengage himself from her heavenly pull.

When the moon rose so too did his demons, and there he lay, tormented, although adamant that his endless procrastinating would cease with the rising sun. Then she appeared, all fire and dazzle, with her snarky wit and her beautiful smile, dragging him from the darkness into the light more magnificently than any sunrise could ever do. Leaving him torn asunder once more, frustrated and infuriated with the ugly little corner he’d found himself in.

Keeping her in the dark had been an easy enough decision to make after Singapore, when he’d still been able to taste the metallic tang of blood and they hadn’t been face-to-face. All black and white, his reasoning had been crystal clear. Protect her at all costs. No harm done.

But as one day had overtaken another simple had accelerated to beyond complicated.

Now Finn was loath to tamper with her contentment, to substitute the happiness in her eyes with hate and betrayal. At the same time he was selfish enough to want her to look at him that way a while longer. As if he was a good man. As if he hadn’t led her brother to his death. As if his day of reckoning wasn’t hurtling towards him.

Before he even reached her side she stilled. Curled her fingers around the beaded purse on the glass bar-top. Closed her eyes and just...breathed.

Honest to God, what they did to each other defied logic. It was a car bomb waiting to detonate if he didn’t defuse it somehow.

Gripping the back rail of her stool, he became enraptured by her fiery river of hair—the way the sides were loosely pinned back to create a cascade of soft, decadent curls down her back.

Thought fled and he dipped his head to kiss her bare shoulder. But he slammed on the brakes in the nick of time, making do with a long, deep inhale. In place of her usual fruity undertones there was an evocative note of something dark and distinctly passionate, reminiscent of her arousal.

His body quaked as that scent registered in his brain like a Class A narcotic and he growled in her ear, ‘Looking good, baby.’

A slight tremble passed over her before she swivelled on her bottom and slipped off the stool. Then he got a really good look, and his heart started doing that palpitation thing again. Wow, she was filling out. That over-thin look of Monaco was being replaced with subtle curves.

Her pewter dress was snug, held up by one heavily beaded shoulder strap which trailed down the side of a boned bodice, cupping her breasts, moving down to a small bustle at her hip. Her skirts were frothily layered, plunging to the floor in swathes of a lighter toned silver, the hue turning darker by degrees to charcoal and finally edged in ebony. It was a sexy version of rock-chick princess, with Serena lending it her own unique kick.

He was left with the ludicrous urge to lift the froth and take a peek at her feet.

A small smile teased her lips. ‘Don’t tell me. You need to look.’

Finn shrugged, feeling oddly boyish. He’d never been obsessed with a woman, and the hunch that obsession was definitely the evil he was up against made him recoil, take a step back.

Serena, however, took that as an invitation to show off, and she slowly, seductively, inched her skirts up her calves, then lifted her dainty little foot and flexed her ankle this way and that.

The diamond-studded sandals twinkled in the light, sending prisms of colour to dance across the walnut floor.

‘You’re very pleased with yourself, there, Miss Scott.’


Smoky sultry make-up enhanced the colour of her grey gaze as she sparkled up at him. Lips glossed, pink and full taunted him as she spoke in a rush. ‘I am. No boots, no slippers, and I can actually walk. Who knew wedge sandals actually existed?’

The way she was looking at him—confident, serene, enchanting...

Dammit. How was he going to get through this night? Need was a ferocious claw in his gut, slicing deeper with every second.

‘You look sensational, baby.’

‘Why, thank you, Finn. But do you know what’s really scary?’

‘What?’

Her brow nipped, as if she were controlling her emotions. ‘I think I do too.’

‘That’s my girl.’ His voice cracked under pressure. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. The helicopter awaits.’ He held out his arm and shut down every possessive instinct in his body. ‘Shall we go to the ball, Miss Scott?’

She slipped under the crook of his arm, pressed her breast in tight to his side and his pulse shot through the roof.

‘Why, yes, I believe we shall, Mr St George. I have a feeling this is going to be a night to remember.’

Finn tried to swallow around a lifetime of regrets. ‘Curiously enough, so do I.’