The Pretense

Chapter 6

Hamilton had lost his life and Matt had missed three of the following races due to injury. And he'd failed to finish the last two races due to mechanical issues.

He wasn't superstitious and he didn't believe in bad luck, but he couldn't deny – at least to himself – that there seemed to be a black cloud, like in a damned cartoon strip, following around him at the moment.

A sudden memory of the moment his mother had returned from the bathroom and he'd had to tell her that his father – the love of her life – had just been involved in a hideous accident clamped around his heart like an iron fist. No one knew what had caused the accident that had ended his father's life – engine malfunction or human error – but the pit crew had said his father hadn't been himself that morning and Matt remembered overhearing his mother urge his father to pull out of the race. But the old man had ignored her and gone anyway.

Matt swiped a hand through his hair. Had that been what had killed his? His mother's soft request? Matt shuddered at the thought. It was hell of a position for a man to be put in.

Refocusing on Harper's steady rhythm, he was surprised that he didn't have to temper his speed all that much for them to remain together.

Waking up beside her, he hadn't meant to have his hands all over her and now he decided that it would be best to play the relationship game her way. So what if Carter goes cuckoo for her? It was none of his business as she had rightly pointed out. Now that he knew he wasn't being used to hide an affair, it shouldn't mean anything to him that the other man wanted her.

Had they ever been lovers?

Not wanting to head down that particular track, he concentrated again on the rhythmic sound of their feet hitting the sand and the crystal clear waters rolling onto the beach. Harper stopped and started walking, her hands on her hips and Matteo joined her.

"You can keep going if you want," she panted.

He glanced at her. He could keep going but he didn't want to. What he wanted was to stop thinking about the past and make her smile like she had back in their room. He wondered what she did for fun and then wondered why he cared.

"You work out a lot?" he asked.

She glanced at him and he tensed when her eyes dropped to his stomach as he used his shirt to wipe a line of sweat off his brow. He knew she was attracted to him, maybe even as attracted as he was to her but he also knew it would be stupid to follow up on that attraction. Not only did she not want it – he didn't either. And while his body might have ideas to the contrary, his body was just an instrument for his mind and not the other way around.

"I go to the gym three times a week and try to go for a run along the boulevard on the weekend."

She walked in a small circle to ease the lactic acid burn from her legs.

"You do weights?"

"Some. Mainly light weights. Although I missed every one of my workouts this week due to work, so no doubt when I start back on Monday morning, I'll be a little sore."

"Do some now."

She cast her eyes from the sparkling ocean to the sand dunes behind them. "I'm sorry but if you see a weight machine anywhere here, you're on your own."

He laughed. "There's a lot you can do without machines. Trust me. This is part of my day job. "Why don't we start with some ab crunches?"

He lay on his back and started curling his head towards his bent knees. He'd made it to twenty when out of the corner of his eye, he saw her reluctantly join him. He wasn't sure why that pleased him so much.