Embarrassment floods my face at his blatant rejection. I pull my hand away and take a step back from him, looking at anything but him. “God, I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know why I did that. We haven’t even had sex yet. I wanted to take it slow, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with any man.

What was I planning on doing? Have sex with him in my doorway?

It’s not like I’d take him inside and have sex with him while my son is sleeping in the next room, and my brother is down the hall. Then, there’s the fact that Jett hasn’t met him, and Kit has met him only once.

What has gotten into me?

“I should go inside.” My eyes are currently on my feet, which start to move toward my front door.

“No, India, wait.” He catches my arm, pulling me back to him.

He slides his hands around my waist. I reluctantly look him in the face.

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “You just caught me off guard. I guess I wasn’t expecting it. We haven’t had sex, and you haven’t made any move in that direction until now.”

I stare down at my feet, unable to look at him a moment longer. “I guess…I just got caught up in the moment.”

“India, look at me, please.”

Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to his.

His hand cups my cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “I like that you got caught up in the moment, and I’m more than happy to move on to that next stage of our relationship, but only if you’re really ready.”

“I don’t know. I guess…maybe.” I shrug.

For an educated woman, I’m just full of articulation tonight, aren’t I?

“India, I want what you want. There’s no pressure here.”

Frustration builds in my mind, buzzing in my ears, and I instantly see my problem here.

I want him to want what he wants. Not want what I want. I need him to be more assertive. Tell me that he wants me, and the rest be damned. Press me up against this wall, and kiss the hell out of me. Tell me how much he needs to be inside me. That he can’t breathe without me.

I need passion from him.

I bet Leandro isn’t this considerate or gentle with the women he has sex with. I bet he’s full of passion. I bet he just tells them straight that he wants them.

Not that I’d want to be one of Leandro’s one-night conquests. Like Kat bloody Whisker.

Ugh! Shit! Fuckity fuck, I’m bringing Leandro into this again!

No more Leandro thoughts.

“Just…think about it, and let me know, okay?” Dan says.

I have to bite back my frustration. “Yeah, sure.”

He gently presses his lips to mine. I quickly break away, not wanting to kiss him right now, and I step toward the door, getting my keys from my clutch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says.

“Speak to you then.”

I close the door behind me and lock it. Then, I lean up against it, my heart beating hard in my chest, and I know it’s not beating that way because of Dan, but because of thoughts of a certain Brazilian race car driver.

WALKING TOWARD THE TUBE STATION, my head is completely up my ass. I just had a meeting with the team bosses at some fancy restaurant where the dishes were so small I came out still hungry.

The meeting was pointless because I had nothing new to tell them.

I’m still in therapy, and I’m still not driving yet.

They said the same as before. I don’t return next year, and I’m out.

I can’t be pissed at them. They’re running a business and currently paying for a driver who doesn’t drive.

If anything, they’re being good to me. I know it’s out of loyalty and respect. But that can only go so far.

I’m well aware that the season is fast approaching. It’s the end of November. Racing season starts in March.

I need to be back in my car and soon, or my career will be over for good.

A flash of blonde hair catches my attention. It instantly makes me think of India.

Not that that’s a rarity at the moment. Currently, she’s all I think about.

Seeing her last night with the prick she’s dating drove me insane. It took everything in me not to reach over and strangle the guy.

Knowing he gets to put his hands on her…

I clench my fists at the thought.

Seriously though, what does she see in the guy? Sure, he’s a doctor, but he’s boring as hell.

I was just glad to be seated away from him, so I didn’t have to make conversation with the tool. Though it was fun to watch Carrick being tortured from having to listen to him.

That’s what he gets for being complicit in setting me up with Kat.

Jesus, that woman was like an octopus. Her hands were everywhere.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind having my junk felt up but not in full view of everyone—especially not when the one woman I do actually want to have her hand on my cock is sitting next to me.

After last night, if it hadn’t been clear to me before, then it was abundantly clear to me then that I want to have sex with India.

Repeatedly.

I just need to figure out how to make that happen and how to make Dan the dickhead, disappear.

God, I can’t believe she’s dating that boring asshole. I don’t care that he’s a doctor, and he saves lives. She deserves better than him.

You?

No. She deserves better than me, but I’m a selfish bastard, and when I want something, I take it.

I push open the door to the Tube station, and I walk straight into India—literally.

“Oops. Sorry,” she says.

She has her eyes down, hand searching in her bag. When she lifts her eyes to me, I see the surprise flicker through them.

Then, she smiles widely. “Leandro.”

My eyes quickly graze over her body. She’s dressed down in skinny jeans and a T-shirt with a fitted black leather jacket. It makes her look younger.

And my cock instantly stands to attention.

I step a little closer, getting into her space. “India. Last night, and now, this morning. If I didn’t know better, I would think the universe is trying to put us together.”

Her eyes flicker nervously to the side. Following her gaze, I see a boy standing beside her, curiously looking at me.

I immediately know it’s her son. He has the exact same blue eyes as her.

She clears her throat, in that way she does when she’s uncomfortable. It’s surprising how quickly I’ve become accustomed to her little ways.

“Leandro, this is my son, Jett.” She takes a step away from me, revealing more of him.

I remember her saying last night that he’s twelve. This kid is tall for his age. I’m six foot, and he’s only about half a foot shorter than me.

His head tilts to the side, his eyes sparking with excitement.

“You’re Leandro Silva.” He sounds flabbergasted.

She said he’s a big Formula 1 fan.

“I am.” I smile.

“Holy crap!” He flicks his eyes to India. “You know Leandro Silva? How do you know Leandro Silva? And why didn’t you tell me that you know Leandro Silva?” The kid’s voice is raising a decibel higher. He might be tall, but his voice hasn’t broken yet, and his high pitch is raising some attention.

I pull the ball cap I’m wearing down lower over my eyes. I don’t mind a little attention, but right now, I don’t want people intruding while I have her here.

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