CHAPTER 11

As the Saturday of their next visit to Darius' garage finally dawned and Zion’s enthusiasm knew no bounds, Nathalie tried to keep her anticipation at seeing Darius again at bay. Zion had been so excited when Darius told him about the Maserati Alfieri 1960 kit and had asked her to take him out to purchase a new notebook in which he’d written furiously and also pasted numerous pictures. Making notes, he’d said, but they were a secret. Just for Darius and him. Still, even if she couldn’t help but worry about Zion, she also couldn’t bring herself to crush his enjoyment. 





As for herself...she shook her head as she put on the brakes for a stoplight in the thick Saturday traffic. She’d never been the kind of woman to go all gooey just from thinking about a guy. But every time she thought about Darius, both her brain and her body went topsy-turvy. “I like Darius,” Zion said from the passenger seat with his usual big-hearted cheerfulness. Nathalie couldn’t deny the truth. “I like him, too.” And it wasn’t just Darius' sex appeal that drew her to him like moth to flame. It was all the little things that added up—his patience with Zion, the tin of caviar he’d given Mama Martini, and the genuine empathy on his face and in his touch when she’d told him about the car crash, the rich teen getting away with near murder, and then their parents’ passing. “I brought drinks and sandwiches for when we get hungry.” 





She didn’t want to assume that Darius would feed them. “Your favorite, PB and Z.” “I can’t wait to get there!” Zion said. “This is going to be the best day ever.” Zion had clearly been swept away by Darius. And the problem was, no matter how much she’d tried to deny it over the past ten days, Nathalie kept secretly fantasizing about being swept away by him, too. Darius had an irresistible magnetism, much as she’d been reminding herself that she had to resist. The way he’d turned her inside out in her kitchen with nothing but words was something her body couldn’t forget. Not when deep inside, she knew how good—how amazing—it would feel to be taken by him. I intend to kiss you so slowly, so thoroughly, that you’ll be begging me to never, ever stop. All of his sexy, crazy, wild intentions came back to her deep in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. They were why she couldn’t sleep. Because she wanted so badly everything he was offering. 





But again and again over the past few days, she’d wondered—what if she took her eye off the ball in her quest for even a small, but heady, taste of wildness, and something happened to her brother? What if she went in for a few perfect gulps of the thrills that Darius was offering her and ended up putting the safe little life she’d created for herself and Zion at risk? Especially when, despite how kind Darius had been to both of them so far, she didn’t know very much about him at all. He hadn’t shared anything about who he was or where he’d come from. In fact, he’d skillfully avoided revealing himself. They pulled up at the top of the driveway, and as she came to a stop, Zion all but threw himself out of the car when Darius appeared in one of the open roll-up doors. Nathalie opted for a more reasonable pace, yet her heart was beating wildly. God only knew why, since Darius was covered in the long white overalls she’d seen hanging in the garage. How can a man look that sexy in overalls? “Where is it, Darius?” Zion asked in an excited voice. “Up in the barn.” Darius pointed to the hill beyond the garages. “That’s my workshop for major projects.” He gestured to the two garage buildings where they were standing. 





“This place is just for tune-ups, oil changes, and regular maintenance.” Stepping back into the garage, he reached for a pair of blue overalls. “Better put these on, Zion, or your sister will have my head for creating more laundry.” From the curve of his lips as he said it, she knew he was remembering the baskets of unfolded clothing in the family room. She blushed as he tossed the overalls to Zion. Who missed. Her brother scrambled to grab them up off the concrete. “Do I have to take my clothes off?” Darius shook his head. “Nope. The legs should be wide enough to fit over your sneakers and jeans.” Nathalie liked that he didn’t make a big deal out of Zion not knowing what to do. “Okay. I have to sit down.” Zion sat on the concrete and tried stuffing his feet into the legs. 





Darius didn’t help him, and Nathalie liked that, too, since she tried not to let herself help Zion unless he asked for it. Still fighting the overalls onto his legs, rolling onto his back and pulling at them, her brother called, “Doesn’t Nathalie need these, too?” Darius eyed her, giving her a long, slow look—which Zion was too involved with his overalls to notice. The heat in Darius' gaze told her he’d taken in her tank top and capris. And liked what he saw. “Oh no. I want Nathalie just the way she is.” Even if he couldn’t possibly mean that the way it sounded, it still managed to be the sweetest thing any man had ever said to her. Zion finally got the blue overalls on his legs, then scooched his bottom to pull them over his hips. 





Rolling to his hands and knees, he pushed himself up. While her brother put on the overalls, Darius had reduced the distance between himself and Nathalie to two steps. He was close enough to touch her now, but he didn’t. That in itself was another tease, something that Darius was just too good at. “Ready?” Darius directed the question to Zion, who’d finally zipped up his overalls. “Yes!” her brother yelled. Then Darius finally did what she’d been secretly dying for. He put his hand on her bare back between the straps of her tank top, guiding her toward the garage, making her acutely aware of him with the caress of his fingers above the line of the tank. And, even if she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help but love every second of it.