Right Before His Eyes by Wendy Etherington

motor home at the track, right? Why don’t you?”
    â€œI do. But I don’t usually bring it when we come out west.”
    Her gaze flitted around the room again. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble for me.”
    â€œI like to.”
    Sitting cross-legged with her feet bare and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she looked more like a teenager than a grown woman with a mysterious past and a demanding business to run. She cleared her throat.
    â€œWhat now?”
    â€œWe could make out.”
    After a startled jolt, she surprised him by scooting closer and looping her arms around his neck. “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
    He pulled her into his lap. “Making me really, really happy.”
    â€œThat’s quite a step up from making you miserable.”
    â€œIt’s been quite a day.”
    He took his time at the races for granted. Even though he was in his first year as a team owner, his sponsorship days had afforded him days at every track on thecircuit at one time or another. Conducting business with the roar of engines in the background was as normal as doing it in a boardroom.
    Today, though, everything was fresh again. He’d seen all the action, frenzy, lights, colors and crowds through new eyes.
    Sheila’s eyes.
    Her golden-brown gaze searched his. “I don’t belong with—”
    He laid his finger over her lips. “Don’t. Please.” Desire invaded him as surely as her smiles had touched his heart, so he brushed his mouth over her cheek. “This weekend is a bubble in time. Until Sunday night let’s forget the past and even the future. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” she whispered, her breath teasing his skin.
    As he kissed her, he promised himself to go slow. He didn’t bring her here for a weekend fling. She was an investment. A woman who mattered a great deal to him. He wasn’t going to blow his chances at a real relationship by losing control.
    Like last time.
    That kiss in her apartment on Tuesday had been an inferno of long-suppressed need. Tonight he’d find gentleness. He wouldn’t hurry or push.
    Even if it killed him.
    Even if the tips of his fingers tingled with every breath she took, every beat of her heart.
    As things heated and hands began to roam, they both jerked back at the same time. Breathless, eyes wide, they stared at each other.
    â€œI should probably go,” he said, forcing himself to stand.
    Seeming stunned, she nevertheless nodded. “I guess so.”
    He escaped before he could follow through on an impulse that would never gain him the bond of trust he wanted so desperately between them.

CHAPTER SIX
    T HROUGH THE NASCAR N ATIONWIDE Series race on Saturday, Sheila mingled with CEOs, drivers, engineers and tire changers. She knew from her friend and celebrity chef Grace Clark that many of the major teams had a full-time cook, who kept the energy going and the home fires burning regardless of where their cars started or finished.
    And she was astounded by the number of people to be fed—officials, teams, sponsors and fans. She ignored Gil when he tried to insist she sit and relax, let people wait on her for a change.
    She was in her element, as she’d never expected to be in Gil’s world.
    The racing itself was exhilarating, but she was even more impressed by the sense of community, the way everybody knew everybody. Team members joked with competitors under the food tents one minute and fiercely tried to defeat them on the track the next.
    She couldn’t remember a time she’d had more fun.
    Her life had been full of struggle and, oftentimes, betrayal and despair. She’d dragged herself to respectability through sheer force of will, and often wondered if a day would come when all she’d built would crumble before her.
    Today, that fear was a distant memory.
    The moment the cars dashed across the finish line—which she watched from the