The other woman

Portugal

Staring intently at her through his RayBans, Soren's breath caught in his throat as he saw her once again. Using his phone, he zoomed in on her and captured a few snaps. She stood out amongst her colleagues, mainly because she was the only one wearing long sleeves on this warm, sunny day. But she also looked amazing, clearly she'd been working herself hard, working herself hard with Sebastian. The thought clouded his vision with possessive anger, Alex belonged to him and not Sebastian Vettel and soon he'd have her back where she belonged. Below him, she started to turn around and he quickly stepped back before she could look up and see him. He wasn't ready for her to see him just yet.

Even with the sun beating down on her, she shivered. She couldn't see any familiar faces, she couldn't see him so why did she feel like she was being watched? She felt cold, really cold and walked back inside, rubbing the tops of her arms. It was as if he was here, watching her, taunting her from afar, threatening her.

Making sure that his balaclava was tucked into the collar of his race overall, Seb watched her walking towards him. She was rubbing her arms like she was freezing cold and frowning like something was really bothering her. She'd been a little quiet all weekend so far, a bit like how she was when she'd first started working for him, although when they were back at the hotel she'd seemed a bit better. But it was when they'd been outside that she'd seemed wary and had been constantly looking around. Was she looking for the man who she'd drunkenly mentioned, the one who'd broken her? "You can't be cold." He remarked as she stopped close by and took the headphones offered to her by a member of the team.

"I'm not." She replied, not looking at him while clipping the radio unit onto her belt and hanging the headphones around her neck.

"You were rubbing the tops of your arms like you were." He pointed out as he picked up his helmet. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine." She answered, grabbing her rucksack from the bench and shrugging it onto her shoulders, getting ready to head out onto the grid.

"You'd tell me if you wasn't?" He asked, raising a brow because he knew that really, she wouldn't.

"I'm case you hadn't noticed, I am trying. I know it's too late and that I'll be gone soon anyway but I am trying."

He wasn't thinking as he reached a hand out and placed it on her shoulder. In fact he was not so subtly sneaking a look at her breasts where her nipples were showing how cold she felt and were straining against the material of her long sleeved logo'd tee. Even through the soft fabric, the sparks were there; they made his breath hitch and his eyes dart up to meet with hers. Her dilated pupils and slightly parted lips gave away the fact that she'd felt it too and instead of making an excuse to leave, she stayed where she was, holding his gaze firmly with her own. Those forbidden feelings resurfaced again; he was sure he could feel his heart begin to beat faster as a surge of desire crackled from where his hand had touched her. He could feel a deep rooted ache, an almost primal need to mate. This was wrong. Withdrawing his hand quickly, he shoved his helmet on. That did not just happen.

As he turned away to continue getting ready, she smirked to herself. He was curious about her, he was attracted to her; the personal treatment was working. She tried to brush aside the unwelcome feelings that his touch and his stare had caused. Feelings weren't allowed, sexual desire was but only as a means to an end. He obviously wasn't going to ask her to stay, he wasn't going to offer her a new contract so she had nothing to lose and she badly wanted to blow Gisela's precious world apart. Right now this was more about that bitch than it was her husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the hotel that night Seb's mood wasn't the best and he'd insisted on Alex working into the evening, going through a gentle cool down routine and then a remedial massage. The race had been tough, frustrating and pointless once more. Performance among the mid-field teams was close and despite feeling like he was starting to get the measure of Honey Ryder, passing had been nearly impossible and he'd spent the entire race battling in traffic with no clear air to run in. Scoring no points for his new team after three races was not how he'd envisaged the start to the season.