won’t be as damaging as poaching someone from the top teams.’
Marco shook his head. ‘Our sponsors signed up for the package—Rafael and the car. I don’t want a second-class driver.I need someone equally talented and charismatic or the sponsors will throw hissy fits.’
Luke spoke up. ‘There’s also the problem of limited in-season testing. We can’t just throw in a brand-new driver mid-season and expect him to handle the car anywhere near the way Rafael did.’
Marco glanced down at the list. ‘No. Rafael is irreplaceable. I accept that the Drivers’ Championship is no longer an option, but I want to win the Constructors’ Championship. The team deserves it. All of these drivers would ditch their contract to drive for me, but I’d rather not deal with a messy court battle. Where do we stand on the former champion who retired last year? Have you contacted him?’
Russell shook his head. ‘Even with the August break he won’t be in good enough shape when the season resumes in September.’
‘So my only option is to take on a driver from another team?’
‘No, it isn’t.’ Sasha’s voice was low, but intensely powerful, and husky enough to command attention.
Marco’s eyes slid to her. Her stance remained relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, but in her eyes he saw ferocious purpose.
‘You have something to add?’
Fierce blue eyes snapped at him as she rolled her shoulders. As last time, he couldn’t help but follow the movement. Then his eyes travelled lower, to the breasts covered by her nondescript T-shirt. Again the pull of desire was strong and sharp, unlike anything he’d experienced before. Again he pushed it away and forced his gaze back to her face.
A faint flush covered her cheeks. ‘You know I do. I know the car inside out. I’ve driven it at every Friday Practice since last season. The way I see it, I’m the only way you can win the Constructors’ Championship. Plus you’d save a lot of money and the unnecessary litigation of trying to tempt away a driver mid-season from another team. In the last few practices my runtimes have nearly equalled Rafael’s.’
Marco silently admitted the truth of her words. He might not sit on the pit wall for every single minute of a race—the engineerand aerodynamicist in him preferred the hard facts of the telemetry reports—but he knew Sasha’s race times to the last fraction.
He also knew racing was more than just the right car in the right hands. ‘Yes, but you’re yet to perform under the pressure of a Saturday practice, a pole position shoot-out and a race on Sunday. I’d rather have a driver with actual race experience.’
Russell fidgeted and cleared his throat. ‘I agree, Marco. I think Alan might be a better option—’
‘I’ve consistently surpassed Alan’s track times,’ she said of the team’s second driver. ‘Luke will confirm it.’
Luke’s half-hearted shrug made Marco frown.
‘Is there a problem?’
The other man cleared his throat. ‘Not a problem, exactly, but I’m not sure how the team will react to … you know …’
‘No, I don’t know. If you have something to say, then say it.’
‘He means how the team will react to a woman lead driver,’ Sasha stated baldly.
Recalling her accusation of sexism, he felt a flash of anger swell through him. He knew the views of others when it came to employing women as drivers. The pathetically few women racers attested to the fact that it was a predominantly male sport, but he believed talent was talent, regardless of the gender that wielded it.
The thought that key members in his team didn’t share his belief riled him.
He rose. ‘That will be all, gentlemen.’
Russell’s surprise was clear. ‘Do you need some time to make the decision?’
His gaze stayed on Sasha. Her chest had risen in a sharp intake of breath. Again he had to force himself not to glance down at her breasts. The effort it took not to look displeased him
Marco shook his head. ‘Our sponsors signed up for the package—Rafael and the car. I don’t want a second-class driver.I need someone equally talented and charismatic or the sponsors will throw hissy fits.’
Luke spoke up. ‘There’s also the problem of limited in-season testing. We can’t just throw in a brand-new driver mid-season and expect him to handle the car anywhere near the way Rafael did.’
Marco glanced down at the list. ‘No. Rafael is irreplaceable. I accept that the Drivers’ Championship is no longer an option, but I want to win the Constructors’ Championship. The team deserves it. All of these drivers would ditch their contract to drive for me, but I’d rather not deal with a messy court battle. Where do we stand on the former champion who retired last year? Have you contacted him?’
Russell shook his head. ‘Even with the August break he won’t be in good enough shape when the season resumes in September.’
‘So my only option is to take on a driver from another team?’
‘No, it isn’t.’ Sasha’s voice was low, but intensely powerful, and husky enough to command attention.
Marco’s eyes slid to her. Her stance remained relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, but in her eyes he saw ferocious purpose.
‘You have something to add?’
Fierce blue eyes snapped at him as she rolled her shoulders. As last time, he couldn’t help but follow the movement. Then his eyes travelled lower, to the breasts covered by her nondescript T-shirt. Again the pull of desire was strong and sharp, unlike anything he’d experienced before. Again he pushed it away and forced his gaze back to her face.
A faint flush covered her cheeks. ‘You know I do. I know the car inside out. I’ve driven it at every Friday Practice since last season. The way I see it, I’m the only way you can win the Constructors’ Championship. Plus you’d save a lot of money and the unnecessary litigation of trying to tempt away a driver mid-season from another team. In the last few practices my runtimes have nearly equalled Rafael’s.’
Marco silently admitted the truth of her words. He might not sit on the pit wall for every single minute of a race—the engineerand aerodynamicist in him preferred the hard facts of the telemetry reports—but he knew Sasha’s race times to the last fraction.
He also knew racing was more than just the right car in the right hands. ‘Yes, but you’re yet to perform under the pressure of a Saturday practice, a pole position shoot-out and a race on Sunday. I’d rather have a driver with actual race experience.’
Russell fidgeted and cleared his throat. ‘I agree, Marco. I think Alan might be a better option—’
‘I’ve consistently surpassed Alan’s track times,’ she said of the team’s second driver. ‘Luke will confirm it.’
Luke’s half-hearted shrug made Marco frown.
‘Is there a problem?’
The other man cleared his throat. ‘Not a problem, exactly, but I’m not sure how the team will react to … you know …’
‘No, I don’t know. If you have something to say, then say it.’
‘He means how the team will react to a woman lead driver,’ Sasha stated baldly.
Recalling her accusation of sexism, he felt a flash of anger swell through him. He knew the views of others when it came to employing women as drivers. The pathetically few women racers attested to the fact that it was a predominantly male sport, but he believed talent was talent, regardless of the gender that wielded it.
The thought that key members in his team didn’t share his belief riled him.
He rose. ‘That will be all, gentlemen.’
Russell’s surprise was clear. ‘Do you need some time to make the decision?’
His gaze stayed on Sasha. Her chest had risen in a sharp intake of breath. Again he had to force himself not to glance down at her breasts. The effort it took not to look displeased him
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