Race For Love Page 4

  "I was with the New Orleans Jaguars. Now I'm freelance. TJ called me to see if I could help. Why haven't you started PT yet?"

  She didn't like the accusation in his tone. "There was a difference of opinion about my recovery. We hadn’t really settled on a regimen."

  His lips quirked. "Couldn't find anyone to work with you, huh? Must be that sunny disposition. Maybe this is a better question for you, do you want to be racing again by April? Because if you do, you're going to have to give up this cushy princess life with your servants and aides and get down to work."

  She tensed. No. Absolutely not. "What kind of question is that, of course I do. And let's be clear, you don't know me. You're just some guy that walked in off the street. You can't make judgments."

  "If you say so. The only reason I ask is because the first thing anyone would have wanted you to do is get the hell away from depending on that chair. It's been what, six weeks? Your injuries should have progressed in their healing by now. Why are you still not mobile?"

  "Listen to you tell me that I should be healed by now. You're not the one living in my skin." Fury burned in her chest. "You know what? I'm not sure this is going to work out."

  He smirked at her. "You know, I don’t believe you when you say you're KM Jennings. You don't resemble at all the kind of person who would put the work in to get any of these trophies and ribbons. Maybe you're what the press says and all hype. A pretty face and not much substance. After all, you're only a test driver right? You race occasionally, but no wins?"

  "You don't know anything about me."

  He rolled his shoulders. "What I do know is that you were a somewhat talented driver who's being lazy right now. TJ asked me to come, but I only work with people who want to be helped. You don't. You're right. This isn't going to work out."

  "You're turning me down? You realize I just fired you first right?" Who the hell did he think he was? "Care to tell me why you're no longer with the Jaguars? Sacked you for your bedside manner did they? You can get out of here with your assumptions and your attitude. I don’t need your help. I can do this on my own." Her eyes stung and she refused to blink the tears into existence.

  She wouldn't let him get under her skin. He didn't matter. "I'd rather have anyone else than work with you. I don’t work really well with assholes."

  "I see. You were more interested in a lover."

  Mouth. Open. "I trust you found your way in, so now go on and find your way out. And when I'm back on my feet, I'll make sure to tell everyone I know what a disaster you are." She spun around and left him in TJ's living room without bothering to look back. There had to be another way. One that didn't involve working with a total dickhead.

  ***

  TJ was not happy with her. Kisima winced as he paced back and forth in the kitchen of the guesthouse, his voice growing louder with each step. "Damn it Kiss, you gave me your word. It's like you don't want to get better."

  Yeah, it was like that. "TJ, I'm sorry, but you— He was rude, and he clearly wasn't in my corner. And—"

  "You have got to stop. We had a deal. This was going to be the trainer. He works with professional athletes, for the love of God. You have to tell me what's going on with you. Just talk to me."

  "I'm terrified of failing." The words sputtered out of her mouth before she had full control of her lips. "I know you want me in a car. But I don’t know if I can do it. I still don’t know what happened the day of the crash. All I know is I didn't win and next thing I knew I was fighting for my life. And in so much pain." She shook her head. "I can't, TJ."

  He sighed and dropped into the sectional. "Kiss, I've seen you handle all kinds of tragedy. You're tough and I'm so proud of you. I don't want to push you past any point you're not ready to go. But I do want you well."

  "I—" she began. "I don't know if I can do it. If I fail..." Her voice trailed.

  "You do what everyone else does, you pick up and make it work. It’s what you do. I don't think you were at fault that day. It was an accident. Now it's time for you to move forward."

  "This is my life. You think I don't want that back?"

  "I do. But I think you're scared. I'm scared too. I need you. There will only be so many chances in life. You can fight, or you can give up. The Kiss I know would fight. Can you call her up for me or is she gone for good?"

  "I hate having people have to take care of me."

  TJ shook his head. "You know, when you first came home, I thought I was helping you, but I see now that I might have screwed that up. I wanted you to have whatever you needed, but maybe you needed to do some things for yourself to remind you that you could."

  The verbal barb hit home and she rubbed at the burning spot on her chest. "Even if I do all the work and go through this, there is no guarantee."

  "All I care about is you being you again. Fuck it all to hell if you drive again, Kiss. You need to be able to look after yourself."

  "I can look after myself, TJ. I know you and Christian don’t think so, but I'm not a child. I don’t need constant hovering."

  "Then prove it. Work your ass off and get out of that chair. I can't have you giving up on me yet."

  "I'm not giving up."

  "One day I'm not going to be here. And I'm counting on you to take the reins of this place. Daniels Racing is in a trust for Christian. But I've built an empire around that. One that will survive with or without the racing arm." He shook his head. "I want you to come work for me. It's what I've been grooming you for. It's everything I have. The school. The merchandising arm. The training. The patents. All of it. You need to be on your feet to be able to run it."

  Her stomach pitched. "What are you talking about, TJ?"

  He sat forward and dropped his arms on his knees letting his hands hang down. "I'm sick, Kiss. Cancer."

  The burn in her chest morphed into a completely hollow feeling. "C-cancer? No. You don’t look sick."

  "Yeah, well, not yet anyway. It's lung cancer."

  She shook her head. "No. You can't be sick. I don’t believe it." He was her whole world. What was she going to do without him? Where was she going to go?

  "Unfortunately it's true. It's stage two, but I'm strong and I plan on fighting it tooth and nail. But I have to prepare you for the possibility that I won't be here."

  She shook her head vehemently. "I don't want to hear that."

  "Unfortunately, it's true. And I need to know you’re on your way. Give me that, Kiss. I made eight-year-old Kiss a promise I intend to keep. You will be a race car driver and I'm gonna get you there. I'm trying to give you a legacy. That's the only reason I want you in a car again. So that you'll be happy. I want you to have your dream."

  Shit, she was gonna cry. She sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "Because it was private, and you had your own shit to deal with. I didn't want you worried about me. I'll be fine."

  Do not cry. Do not cry. But the tears were coming on their own. "Does Christian know?"

  He shook his head. "Not yet. And I'd like to keep it that way for a little while. See how things play out. I’ll tell him soon. But let’s keep it to family now and need to know. You can talk to Leah about this. I imagine you need to process. For now, we carry on. With any luck and surgery and chemo, no one will ever know. Last thing I need is circling vultures."

  She was just supposed to hide this from everyone? "TJ—"

  "Promise me, kiddo. I need this. Daniels is my legacy. And I believe in you. Something happens to me, Christian inherits, but I want the world to know what you can do before anything like that ever happens."

  Everyone thought he was crazy for continuing to invest in her. But he never listened to the naysayers. She understood needing to prove something, she nodded. "Okay."

  "Then prove it... Start getting better." He stood, kissed her on the top of her forehead. "That's all I need right now. You get better, can you do that?"

  She nodded, panic setting in. How could
all of this have been going on and she had no idea? She could think of only one person who was going to get her where she needed to be and quickly. They might kill each other in the process, but it would be well worth it if she could give TJ what he wanted.

  She and TJ talked for another hour before he finally left to go home. When she watched his car navigate down the winding slopes of the driveway, she picked up the phone and called the one person she needed. He answered on the first ring. "This is Derek."

  ***

  Derek punished the treadmill in the hotel gym. Kisima Jennings’ words kept running through his skull. I don't think this is going to work out. I don't think this is going to work out. I don't think—

  He pushed faster, trying to outrun the echo of her voice in his head. In his blood. Since he'd left the ranch, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Which was part of the problem. He sure as shit couldn't work with her. They would clash at every turn.

  The other problem, he fucking wanted her. Bad enough to consider begging. Those dark, chocolate, arresting eyes of hers had latched onto his soul. In the sunlight of the study, her cinnamon kissed skin had looked soft and good enough to taste. Even with the chair, he could tell she was strong and athletic, but curvy. He liked strong women. None of that waify bullshit. Idiot.

  It was like he never fucking learned. He couldn't explain it, but the pull to her was strong, potent. After Kallie, he should have learned his lesson. But his cock, apparently, was a little slow on the uptake. He could ignore it, but if he was trapped in one room with her for several weeks, he might go insane.

  He knew he'd been an ass. And he'd even tried to rein himself in. But the fire in her eyes was too fun to watch. Someone with that kind of fire would never just take being in a wheelchair at face value. She was a fighter. He knew it. It pissed him off that the woman in all the photos was replaced by a pampered princess.

  She was the princess in the ivory tower who expected everything to be done for her. And he thought Kallie Wintor was spoiled. She had nothing on Kisima Jennings.

  The main house reminded him of a trip his family had taken to California to see Hearst Castle when he was a kid. It wasn’t nearly as large or opulent, but pretty fucking close with the old-world feel. From the research he'd done, he knew that the Daniels were an old racing family. The founder of Daniels Racing, Donald Daniels had been an oilman who had too much money and no idea what to do with it. Looked like that was still true today.

  The grounds, from what he'd seen and the map he'd been given, contained three guesthouses spread across the property. The one directly behind the main house was about a football field away. Between the two houses, there was a pool, a basketball court, an expansive circular driveway and a state of the art gym.

  The map boasted two other equally large guesthouses on the property spread out around the mazes and the racetrack. TJ Daniels had a racetrack on his freaking property. Granted he ran a racing school too, but damn. Why the hell had his dad never sent them out there for summers? That would have certainly been a change of pace.

  Though, judging by that enormous chip on Kiss Jennings' shoulder, the money hadn't done her any good. He was still trying to figure out that relationship. She clearly lived there, but what was she to the old man?

  Stop thinking about her. It's not like you're ever going to see her again. Something way too close to regret spread from his chest. No, he was not upset about not seeing her again. He was missing an opportunity to use his skills. Yeah, yeah. The lies he told himself. Either way though, he'd be right about one thing. It wouldn't work to be at odds with her trainer. He needed someone to commit to working their ass off. And he had a feeling Kisima wasn't that kind of girl.

  His phone chimed and he hopped off the still moving treadmill to snag it. Maybe one of those calls he'd been making to every friend he had in the league was finally starting to pay off.

  "Hello, this is Derek."

  There was a beat of silence and his skin prickled with awareness. "This is Kisima Jennings. Do you have a few minutes?"

  His brain told him to be cautious. Told him that he'd regret taking this call. But every instinct and cell in his body told him to take it. "What can I do for you, Kisima?"

  "I don't suppose you'll let me get away without eating any crow."

  He smirked. "Not on your life."

  "Fine." She was silent for a moment. "I would like you to come back. I need your help." It sounded like she was speaking through her teeth.

  His gut twisted even as the adrenaline flooded his veins. He wanted to go back. Just the idea of seeing her stubborn little vein jut was enough. "On one condition, I'm in charge of your recovery. I say it, you do it. No questions, no complaints."

  More silence. No doubt she was thinking up all the ways she could kill him. "Fine."

  "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow."

  5

  Kiss was nervous. There was the anticipation of hard work coming her way, but some of it was also him. There were no two ways about it. Derek Donovan made her nervous as hell. Which was stupid really, because she didn't even like the guy. He was arrogant and a huge pain in the ass. Worse, he thought he knew everything. And you need him.

  If she didn't want to lose her team, she was going to have to get her ass in gear. She understood TJ's reasoning, but she wasn't going to let it happen. All she needed to do was get back on the track and win a major race. How hard could that be? Easy peasy. She could do it in her sleep...that was if she ever slept.

  "You ready to work, Kisima?" Derek approached her kitchen wearing his shit-eating grin and cocky attitude. Along with that pair of jeans it made a spectacular outfit. She was already regretting this.

  "Yeah, apparently that's why you're here. Are you settled in your room?"

  "Pretty much. Thanks. This place is something else."

  She glanced up and around. "Yeah, it is." Growing up she'd loved it here. But as she'd gotten older, she'd grown increasingly aware that it wasn't hers. She was only a visitor at the castle. "Lunch is usually around noon and if you need anything, you can use the intercom and someone from the main house will bring it down for you."

  He smirked. "I'm sure I'll manage. So for starters, why don’t you tell whoever prepared lunch that we won't be needing it."

  She frowned and wheeled around to face him. "You're not hungry?" She continued wheeling backward.

  "No, I'm famished, but we're going to make lunch ourselves."

  "We?" She cocked her head. It's not that she didn't cook, she actually liked to, but it had been a very long time since the kitchen was her domain. The staff had stocked the kitchen since he would be staying here, but she’d expected to order everything from the main house.

  "Yes, we. It's this concept that will involve the two of us often doing things together. The first thing will be making lunch."

  "I don’t understand."

  Derek smirked. "You will." In the kitchen he asked her where a few things were kept, but otherwise, he moved with the flurry of a man well accustomed to cooking for himself. Or maybe someone else. As slyly as possible, Kisima checked for a ring.

  But apparently she wasn't as slick as she thought she was. "I'm not married. I just like to eat so I figured out how to cook. No big deal."

  Feeling like teasing him, she cocked her head. "I wasn't impressed."

  "Oh yes you were." The wink was quick, but she caught it nonetheless. "Okay, now come on over here and help me chop some onions.

  He handed her the chopping board, placing it on her lap. The knife came second and next came the first half of a peeled onion. Staring down at it, she wondered what series of decisions had led exactly to this moment.

  "Something wrong?" he asked.

  She shook her head. She was not going to lose her shit over a few measly onions. "No." She steadied the onion he handed her and started to chop. It wasn't pretty. Her arm felt shaky, and a couple of times, the knife nearly got away from her, but at the end of five minutes, she had some chopped on
ions. Never mind that six weeks ago this would only have taken a minute. Still, she was proud of that. "Here you go."

  He picked up the chopping board and glanced at her not-so-pretty chopping job, picking up one of the largest pieces and examining it, but he said nothing. Well screw him and his bloody onions.

  She thought she'd done a good job. He also handed her a large spoon to mix the pasta salad he'd thrown together. When she took the serving spoon with her right, he shook his head at her and tsked.

  "But I'm right handed."

  "Is your right shoulder the one you separated?"

  Damn him. "No."

  "Then please do it with your left." He smiled at her, stunning her for just a moment. But she knew what it meant; she was going to hate every moment of this process. By the end of it, she'd hate him. The voice she thought was so sexy now she'd grow to loathe. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn't going to let her get away with anything.

  At the same time, there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of her quitting. Slowly, as she stirred, her shoulder screamed. Sweat popped and beaded on her forehead, dampening the hair at her temples. When she was done, she pushed the bowl toward him.

  Even his thank you was patronizing. She was going to need to find her zen place if she wanted to continue working with him.

  "How does it feel?"

  He wanted to know how it felt? Awesome, he was a sadist. "Like I just put my shoulder through a meat grinder."

  He nodded as if he expected that answer. "Do you want to tell me why you refuse to take anything for the pain?"

  Every cell inside her seized. There was no way she was telling him that. Besides, what was she supposed to say? TJ's pill-popping wife wrapped her car around a telephone pole with me and my father inside and I was the only one who survived. When she'd been questioned if Marion had been under the influence, she'd lied to protect the woman she'd loved like family. But even then her young mind understood that Marion's little happy pills had been responsible for her father's death, for her loneliness. "Nope." She didn't care how much pain she was in, she wasn't taking anything.