The Racing Driver's Wife by Raven McAllan

Author:Raven McAllan [McAllan, Raven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary, erotic, marriage, racing driver, romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

As a way to stop both he and Tam in their tracks it was perfect. Gael started to laugh.

"Oh my, misconceptions rule, eh?"

Darcy shrugged. "Can I help it if you have a weird view of romance writers?"

"Erotic romance writers," Gael corrected her with a sheepish grin.

"And those. Excuse me whilst I get my knitting out and find my quill and ink."

He resisted the urge to put his tongue out as she licked her finger and drew a vertical line in the air.

"Don't forget the parchment, oh and your tartan slippers."

"Are youse wanting my help or no?" Tam tapped his foot. "Cos we've not long to do anything."

"Sorry, I'll score points later," Darcy said.

Gael nodded. "I'll get my own back later. Sorry Tam. Go on, what can you do?"

A lot, it seemed. Half an hour later, dressed as a pilot and totally ignored as he walked through the airport wearing his second officer's spare uniform, Gael was obviously considered to be no one important. With no specific insignia on, most people had no interest in him. He exited the airport as arranged, walked across the road and into the car park. Within seconds a dark grey BMW sports car drew up next to him and Darcy winked at him from the driver’s seat.

"Goin' mah way, big boy?" She'd ditched the jacket and cap and wore a plain white blouse with the top three buttons open, and a hint of black lace showing through the fine lawn. His body tightened. Gael was a sucker for black lace showing under white anything.

"Every time, sugah." He put his jacket and case in the boot and got into the passenger seat. He adjusted the seat and flicked the window visor down and twisted it so he could see the road behind them in the mirror.

"Let's hope you're not a back seat driver, or you'll be walking." She pushed overlarge black-rimmed sunglasses back up her nose, released the brake, and the car shot off. Gael gritted his teeth. He was a shit passenger.

"God almighty woman, who are you trying to kill?" They'd left the airport as if the paparazzi were following them, not still clustered around the arrivals doors. "Mind that motor bike." They shot past the said bike and swerved onto the slip road. "Where are you going?"

"Home and I warned you. My car, I drive, you shush. This is a new road, well an upgraded one. How long since you came out here?" She changed gears, put the palm of her hand on the horn and kept it there as they overtook a lorry, which seemed to want two lanes, not one.

"Too long, if I don't recognise this." Gael forced himself not to grab on to the door's grip handle and concentrated on not sliding out of the seat and onto the floor. "Hold on, that shopping centre looks familiar. They’ve done a brilliant job of upgrading this. Are you going onto the main road now?"

"Unless you want to cuss at the queue in each village, yes.

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