Dangerous Race by Dee J. Adams

resolve, a focus he saw in those sapphire depths.
    He’d never met anyone like her. In fact, Mac made a point to steer clear of women as tough and strong as Tracey, which was probably the reason he’d never been serious about any of them. He’d even started calling her by her given name instead of Trace, only because it struck him as more feminine. Trace was strong and brave. Tracey had a soft side, a vulnerability.
    The fury in her eyes dissipated until only a haunted look remained. Was that why he had the ridiculous urge to pull her to him? Because it was the first time she looked vulnerable? It was her toughness, her courage, that scared the hell out of him, made him look deep inside himself and face the things he wasn’t.
    He struggled against the urge to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. God, he wanted to feel her body against his and touch every inch of her golden skin.
    All week, she’d argued with everything he’d said. When he’d asked her to take the car for one more lap, she’d brought it in. If he asked her to bring it in, she stayed out another lap. He couldn’t win. Not with Trace Bradshaw. The I’ll-prove-I’m-better-than-you woman who drove herself, literally, to the edge.
    How the hell had Joe managed her?
    She blinked and took a ragged breath. Against every grain of better judgment he had, Mac drew her in. The smell of lavender washed over him. Settling his arms around her, he bowed his head and his cheek brushed her soft ebony hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it, get lost in it. Lose himself in her. It was nuts. Totally insane.
    She didn’t move or breathe it seemed. Just stood still and let him hold her.
    Mac waited for her to pull away furiously. Expected in-your-face Trace to shove him aside and give him another earful. Instead, she surprised him and circled her arms around his waist. He waited for the breakdown, but that didn’t happen either. She stood there, silent, barely holding him, fighting emotion and refusing to cry.
    He shouldn’t be doing this. He had no business comforting her. She had more bravery in her pinky finger than he had in his whole body. But he couldn’t manage to pull away.
    Gradually, she gripped him tighter, seemed as though she was using strength to keep from crying. Instinct had him bringing her more closely against him too. He buried his face in her silky straight hair and sweet lavender scent.
    Time ticked by, long minutes of holding her—of getting used to the feel of her—before she finally pulled away. Mac stared into her watery eyes and he wanted to ease her pain. He had no idea what to say since she’d taken every word out his mouth the wrong way. Maybe this wasn’t a time for words.
    Her soft skin begged to be touched and Mac didn’t hold back. Gently, he grazed his knuckles along her smooth jaw, lifted her face so she’d meet his gaze. The uncertainty in her eyes kicked him right in the gut. That vulnerability she’d been so good at hiding radiated as brightly as a sunburst and drew him in like a fish on a reel. He bent his head, slowly, to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed and any sanity that might have remained in his big fat head disappeared the second his lips brushed against hers.
    She could’ve moved back or pushed him away, but she didn’t and he kept the gentle pressure against her lush mouth, coaxing her, teasing her. It had been years since Mac had played with fire, but he recognized the danger.
    Only a second of indecision passed before she circled her arms around his neck and opened for him. The invitation sent his blood rushing faster. He moved his lips over hers a little harder. Took a little more. When she kissed him back, he flicked his tongue past her teeth for a quick taste.
    Bubble gum. She tasted of bubble gum and smelled lavender sweet, a combination of woman and innocence that not only surprised him, it sent his body into unexpected overdrive. She matched him like the fighter she