Page 152 of Full Throttle

Dominic studied the painting; three women were having afternoon tea atop a sunny English cliff. Two of the women were dancing, their white skirts billowing like sails, and the third was shouting into the wind. Yes. He could see that.

“I remember this dress,” Dominic said in a low voice, running a finger over the strap. “You wore it when we went out after the final race in Vegas.”

Juliette shivered. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that night.”

“I liked that night.”

Juliette looked aggrieved. “I don’t remember most of that night.”

Didn’t he know it. He’d been the one to carry her back to her hotel room, although thankfully nobody was sick on the carpet this time. “Well, there was gambling at Caesars Palace. Then Cap bought loads of drinks and we got outrageously drunk at an overpriced bar. Baz sang karaoke. Then you insisted on getting naked and taking a swim in the Bellagio fountain.”

Juliette hid her face. “Did I really?”

“You did.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

Dominic released her hair. “Why would I?”

“Weren’t people looking?”

“Oh, definitely,” Dominic said. “But I don’t give a shit.” His mouth brushed the shell of her ear. “So long as they know that you’re coming home with me.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow. She was frequently amused by Dominic’s possessiveness, but never surprised by it, which made one of them. “Was that Bo Zheng earlier?” She nodded toward the bar. “Speaking to you?”

Dominic nodded. Bo Zheng was the head of Hydra Auto, the second-best team on the grid after Duro Stallion. And although he wasn’t going to mention it tonight, since Juliette had brought it up…

“He had some interesting news.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow. “He’s finally realized that fedoras are a bad look?”

Dominic frowned. “I think Bo looks striking in a fedora. Really brings out his cheekbones. But no.” He plucked a beetroot canapé off a passing tray. “Apparently Kit Tomlinson is retiring next season. Wants to spend more time with his wife and kids.”

“I see,” Juliette said slowly. “So there’s an empty seat.”

“Looks like it.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “I suppose they’ll want to fill it.”

“Hard for the car to drive itself.” And then, because Juliette was looking increasingly excited: “Nothing’s decided yet. But Bo’s interested.”

“So we’re going to be on different teams.”

“It appears so.”

Juliette tapped her chin. “I’m not sure how I feel about sleeping with the enemy.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Dominic said mildly. “I’ve always fancied Bellatrix Lestrange. She had a sort of evil charm about her.” He popped the canapé into his mouth. “Does that mean Ranya renewed your contract?”

Juliette shifted her weight. “Among other things.”

“What sort of things?”

She glanced around. “Come upstairs with me?”

As if he would ever refuse. “Lead on.”

Gazes lingered as they passed, but nobody stopped them. The sounds of the party faded away, replaced by their steady footfalls. Juliette led them into an open space, where moonlight spilled across the wooden floorboards like a silk scarf. A large clock dominated the room; the hands were easily as large as a person, and the wheel was marked with black numerals. She raised a hand, her fingers ghosting over the cold glass.