A Tycoon to Be Reckoned With (Harlequin Presents) by Julia James

Author:Julia James [James, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Fiction, Series, Harlequin Presents
Publisher: Harlequin Presents
Published: 2016-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

BASTIAAN WAS DRIVING. Driving as though he were being chased by the hounds of hell. The road snaked up, high into the Alpes-Maritimes, way beyond the last outpost of the Riviera and out into the hills, where bare rock warred with the azure skies. Further on and further up he drove, with the engine of the car roaring into the silence all around him.

At the top of the pass he skidded to the side, sending a scree of stones tumbling down into the crevasse below. He cut the engine but the silence brought no peace. His hands clenched over the steering wheel.

Why had she run from him? Why? What had put that look of absolute panic on her face?

Memory seared across his synapses. What had flamed between them had been as overwhelming for her as it had been for him—he knew that. Knew it with every male instinct he possessed. That conflagration of passion had set them both alight—both of them.

It has never been like that for me before. Never.

And she had gazed at him with shock in her eyes, with disbelief.

Had she fled because of what had happened between them? Had it shocked her as it had shocked him? So that she could not handle it, could not cope with it?

Something is happening, Sabine, between us—something that is not in your game plan. Nor in mine.

He stared out over the wide ravine, an empty space into which a single turn of the wheel would send his car—himself—hurtling. He tried to make himself think about Philip, about why he had come here to rescue him from Sabine Sablon, but he could not. It seemed...irrelevant. Unimportant.

There was only one imperative now.

He reached for the ignition, fired the engine. Nosed the car around and headed back down to the coast with only one thought in his head, driving him on.

* * *

Max lifted his hand to halt her. ‘Take it again,’ he said. His voice was controlled, but barely masking his exasperation.

Sarah felt her fingers clench. Her throat was tight, and her shoulders and her lungs. In fact every muscle in her body felt rigid. It was hopeless—totally, absolutely hopeless. All around her there was a tension that was palpable. Everyone present was generating it, feeling it. She most of all.

When she’d arrived at rehearsal, horrendously late, Max had turned his head to her and levelled her with a look that might have killed her, like a basilisk’s. And then it had gone from bad to worse...to impossible.

Her voice had gone. It was as simple and as brutal as that. It didn’t matter that Max wasn’t even attempting to get her to sing the aria—she could sing nothing. Nothing at all.

But it was not the mortification of arriving so late to rehearsal, her breathless arrival and hectic heartbeat that were making it impossible for her to sing. It was because inside her head an explosion had taken place, wiping out everything that had once been in it.

Replacing it only with searing white-hot memory.

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