Rachel Brimble - What Belongs to Her

CHAPTER FOUR

THE MACHINE RUMBLED to life and John froze.

What the hell?

Gripping the lap bar, he hauled it up and stood. Sasha Todd gracefully skipped up onto the steel platform beneath the carriages. She was dressed in white shorts that revealed her long, slender legs and a simple red T-shirt. His breath caught. Did she have any idea how stunning she was?

She smiled, mischief glinting in her black eyes. “Sit down, John. Let’s take a ride.”

He blinked. “Are you crazy?”

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like rides?”

He tried and failed to muster some semblance of authority as the machine started to move. “No. Turn this thing off.”

She quirked an eyebrow and curved her fingers over the back of the carriage. “Yet you want to run this place? You can’t do that without knowing the fairground inside out. That includes the rides. Move over, I’m jumping onboard.”

Their eyes locked and once again, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Why the hell did the woman managing the fairground have to be so physically arresting? God, he wanted to write about her. Describe her in words in a vain attempt to let the damn world know how unnervingly beautiful she was.

He lowered into the seat, steadfastly avoiding her gaze. He concentrated on keeping his pride in place and not giving in to the temptation to grip the bar again. The ride picked up speed and the carriage shifted as she hauled herself up and sat down next to him, pulling the lap bar down with her.

The distinct smell of something musky and sexy drifted as she tossed her long hair over her shoulders. The tendrils whispered across his cheek, and John closed his mouth, trapping the inconceivable urge to groan.

She wriggled her behind deeper into the seat and settled back with a sigh. “So...what’s the plan today? Enjoy the fair? Cook the books? Fire me?”

Attraction gave way to irritation, fueled by the nonchalance in her voice. “You do realize this thing is moving, right?”

She shrugged and glanced around before focusing entirely on him. “Sure. Now is as good a time as any to get acquainted, don’t you think?”

John swallowed. Jesus, her eyes are ebony-black, like two huge pieces of jet. He snapped his face forward. “Do you know something?” He slid his arm across the back of the carriage above her shoulders. “If you want to play some stupid game in a bid to annoy me, that’s fine. I’m the one in control here, whether you like it or not.”

“Is that so?”

He faced her. Her eyes blazed with anger, and he glared straight back. “Yes.”

“This isn’t about control. This is about me taking one look at you, sitting on this ride dressed for a wedding, and wondering how you think you’re going to run this place.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Wearing a suit dictates whether I’m capable of running the fairground? Wow, clearly you give me more credit for my clothes than my business acumen.”

She scowled and her cheeks flushed pink. John fought the guilt that knotted his gut.

He hated being snappy with any woman, and with Sasha his hostility didn’t sit well at all. The ride gathered momentum and they wove in and out for a few seconds. “I haven’t got time for this. We’re supposed to be in the office talking things out like adults.”

“Adults? Adults don’t hang up on each other midconversation.”

“Adults don’t talk to their bosses without respect. If you think you can speak to me the way you did last night, you’d better think again.”

She glared. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Oh, I get it. I get it completely. Kyle...”

The ride rumbled up another notch and the carriage shot forward with such force the remainder of his words were obliterated by the slipstream. Holy crap. They sped between the empty carriages at such speed, John had no choice but to slip his free hand onto the bar next to hers. He tightened his fingers along the back of the seat.

He glanced at her and scowled. She stared at his white-knuckled hand, her lips curved into a smug smile. She met his eyes. “All this tension and we’ve only just got going.”

He glared, focusing on her mouth rather than those damn eyes. It soon became clear her mouth was no safer option, but what the hell else was he supposed to look at? His gaze drifted lower—to her breasts—and he yanked his eyes right back up. No. Anywhere lower was out of bounds. “I’m not talking business with you whilst riding a damn fairground monstrosity like this.”

Her smile stretched to a grin. “Whilst? God, you are so British. Do you always speak this way or is it just for Freddy’s and my benefit?”

“Look, I want to know how the hell... Oh, God.” The ride lurched into an abrupt frenzy and took off at a speed to which no child under the age of sixteen should ever be subjected. John gripped the bar and held on for dear life.

Sasha’s scream of laughter bore a hole the size of the damn cove into his ego, but he’d be damned if he let go. Whoosh! They sped in between the carriages, barely missing a fatal head-on collision with each maneuver.

“Relax and enjoy the ride, Mr. Boss Man. It’s fun.” She lifted her hand from the bar and jabbed both arms high in the air. “Woo-hoo!”

“Are you purposely trying to emasculate me?” he yelled over the whizzing and screaming of the ride’s mechanical parts working at a ridiculous and feverish tempo.

“Emasculate you? Me?” She winked. “Never.”

Even as they went in for another sweep at breakneck speed, he couldn’t drag his eyes from hers. A smile tugged traitorously at his lips as adrenaline seeped into his blood. Her eyes were wide with childlike excitement; her bright teeth were straight and white with the sliver of a pink tongue barely showing within. He drank in the sight of her. God, she was something else.

“Cat got your tongue, John?”

A strange clunk rumbled through the mechanics and his burgeoning smile vanished. “What was—”

Her smile dissolved. “Oh, God.”

The excitement in her gaze was replaced with horror. She slapped her hands hard to the bar and held on. Dread dropped like a rock into John’s gut. This did not bode well.

“Here we go.” She gritted her teeth.

“Go? Go where?” John looked ahead.

Another rumble and the ride spun into free fall. Her hands ripped from the bar and she was flung into his side from the force of gravity whizzing around them. She smashed into his rib cage and the breath left his lungs. “Bloody hell.”

Instinctively, he dropped his arm to her shoulders, keeping her flush to his body for safety. He had no idea what he could do to protect her when it was clear an Amazon woman couldn’t have fought the pressure that had spun her slight frame across the seat at forty miles an hour.

“How the hell do we stop this thing?” he yelled.

“I don’t know.” Her jaw was set in consternation.

His eyes widened as he stared at her profile. “You don’t know.”

“I thought—”

“No, Sasha. Thinking was the last thing you did.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She turned.

John stared into her eyes. An apology from her was the last thing he thought he’d hear. Not today, tomorrow or ever. Her hair blew back and forth across her face, her brown-black eyes wide and beautiful.

He grimaced. “So, this isn’t going according to plan, huh?”

Her gaze ran over his face to linger at his mouth. The ridiculousness of their situation gave way to physical awareness. The desire to kiss her filtered through his mind. To show her who was boss and stop this damn power play she had going on. His mouth went dry. What was she doing to him? This was not the plan at all. School was out for the summer and by the time the new semester started he’d be home and back at work where he belonged. Getting wrapped up in a woman, in Sasha, was not an option.