Page 46 of Hot Lap
He hasn't spoken to Graham since the blowup in Vegas. Doesn't plan to either. His father made a cock-up of things, as usual, and if there's one thing Reece can do to start making it right, it's give Maiken a night where she doesn't have to look over her shoulder.
He glances once more at his watch, then goes to their adjoining doors, opens his, and knocks softly. "Mai? You ready?"
Her voice comes through, a little breathless. "Just a second!"
He leans against the frame, waiting. His heart kicks a little harder, nerves and anticipation tangling in his chest. No way is he walking into that dinner without her. If they're doing this, they're doing it together.
A few heartbeats later, her door opens.
The breath punches out of Reece. She looksstunning.Radiant. Like someone who doesn't even know how hard she could bring a man to his knees.
She's standing there in a pale peachy-colored dress that floats around her legs and brushes her skin. A dark red sash cinches her waist, emphasizing her outstanding figure. Her hair is pulled up with little wisps framing her face, and her makeup?—
Jesus.Her eyes alone might kill him. The look is dark and mysterious, but there's a bit of gold shimmering at the corners, catching the light when she moves. It's subtle but flirtatious, and absolutelyher, not staged or strategic. It’s just Maiken owning every inch of herself, and him, if she wants.
He’s forgotten how beautiful she is. Two days without seeing her and now he knows the woman he watched dance and laugh in smoky rooms, stand under neon, and bathe in the harshness of fluorescent lighting revealed only a fraction of the true beauty he now sees.
Reece stands there speechless for a second too long, gawping like he's never seen a beautiful woman before.
Mai bites her lip. “Is this okay?”
Bloody hell, one look at her and I've gone completely daft. Standing here like a proper muppet.
He finds his voice. “Yeah. You look..." He trails off, shaking his head and gesturing vaguely with one hand. "Absolutely stunning. Beautiful, no question about it."
Her cheeks flush, but she holds his gaze steady, a little smile replacing uncertainty. Yeah, she’s a goddess and he’s merely an acolyte.
He offers his arm, stepping into his role as husband and host. "Ready to make an entrance, Mrs. Pritchard?"
She hesitates just a beat, then slides her hand through the crook of his elbow. "Not at all, but I can fake it ’til I make it."
Reece chuckles. “Pretty sure you don’t have to fake anything, Mai.”
He leads her through his room and out to the hallway, and for a few seconds, everything feels almost easy.
Almost.
The private dining room is only a short walk from the elevators, but when they reach the open doors, all eyes turn toward them. Reece’s shoulders tighten, instinct honed after years in this world.
Coy stands near the entrance with Petra by his side. She spots them first, gives him a chin tip and a knowing smirk, however she's watching Maiken, too, assessing.
If Petra Hayter disapproves, she won’t hesitate to make it clear to him and to Maiken. Subtle, Petra is not.
The Telco Italia drivers are inside already, Lynch Sutton and Aigar Vehls, their wives with them. Sponsors cluster in polished groups, champagne flutes and practiced smiles at the ready. Afew team photographers hang back, their cameras capturing the entrance.
Everyone is polite. Everyone is polished.
But Reece knows better.
The judgment is happening. There are knives hidden behind those smiles. The question is whether they’ll come out or remain sheathed.
Every detail is noted: Maiken’s dress, her posture, how she holds his arm, how she smiles. Whether she fits.
Whether she’s going to be an asset or a liability.
Her fingers tense just slightly against his jacket, and he covers her hand with his free one, a small, steadying squeeze.
Then, like magic, the WAGs move.
