Velocity (2 page)

“Just a soda pop, please. I don’t like drinking and
driving.”

He nodded and went to fetch her drink. While he was waiting
for the bartender, Garrett stopped next to him. In a low voice, he said, “So
you’re staking your claim?”

Paolo glanced back at Savannah, who was laughing at
something Conner’s wife Jessica was saying. “I like her.”

“Okay. I don’t horn in on another guy when he’s trying to
land a woman, so I’ll just say good luck.”

“Thanks.” Looking back at her again, he smiled when their
gazes met. “She’s a beautiful woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Garrett agreed. “Good thing a lot of these
guys are already off the market or you’d have much better competition than me.”

“Good thing.” He punched Garrett on the arm teasingly. “Because
you’re not much competition.”

“Ouch,” Garrett replied, chuckling. “I certainly can’t
compete with that accent. I’ll never understand why girls like foreign guys
anyway.”

Paolo grinned. “We’re mysterious.” That’s what one of his
former lovers had told him as they’d lain twisted in the sheets after a
marathon session in bed.

“Whatever.”

“Plus, look at this baby face.”

Garrett grabbed Paolo’s cheeks and pinched them and with a
laugh Paolo moved away. Garrett had a great sense of humor, which Paolo supposed
you’d need after being on tour as long as he had, but he didn’t want to be gone
from Savannah for too long. Already he found himself not wanting to leave her
unguarded for the other guys to hit on, so Paolo said his goodbyes and made his
way through the crowded bar back to their group.

Sitting beside her, Paolo handed her the cola and then
reached for the pitcher of beer. After pouring a generous helping, he took a
couple of quick sips, grateful they’d been able to get a decent beer. At the
last place they’d been to the beer had tasted like the bottom of someone’s
shoe. He hadn’t even been able to finish one cup. Though far from an alcoholic,
Paolo still had his standards.

Savannah turned to him. “Jessica was just telling me about
the ranking system. This is all so complicated. I had no idea.”

“Yes, there are many things that go into the rankings,”
Paolo agreed. “I can teach you about them if you would like.”

“I would, thank you.”

“We’ll save that for a little later, since it’s not exactly
fun bar conversation.” Paolo grinned and Savannah laughed.

“Not so much barroom talk?”

“No, I would think not. So what other athletes are you going
to talk to for this project?”

“I’d love to talk to a NASCAR driver, but getting anywhere
with them is proving to be very difficult. I also want to talk to some people
who have dangerous jobs but aren’t athletes, like people who disable bombs.”

Conner snorted. “I’d guess not dying from a bomb would give
you a good shot of adrenaline.”

“I would think so.”

“What are you hoping to prove with your research?” Marco
asked.

She smirked. “That y’all are crazy.”

“Well, we are that,” he agreed.

Brady cut in. “Speak for yourself.”

Paolo watched as his friends bantered back and forth. For as
much as they were competitors in the ring, the guys were pretty close-knit
outside of it. These men, along with some of the women who traveled with them,
had become his replacement family. Even though he missed
Italia
and his
familia
,
he was grateful he had these people.

Conversation flowed as freely as the beer, and soon Paolo
was content and relaxed. He’d thrown his arm over the back of Savannah’s chair
to test her reaction and she hadn’t even flinched, so there it remained without
him making any attempt to take things further. There was plenty of time for
that.

His brother caught his eye a few times, sending a
questioning glance at his arm, but Paolo just sent a serene smile back. It
wasn’t as if his brother hadn’t gone after Natalie with a single-minded
purpose. Marco had always been more forward than himself, so he understood his
brother’s confusion. There was just something about Savannah.

After a while, Savannah yawned, attempting to cover the
action with her hand.

He briefly dropped his hand to rub her shoulder. “Tired?”

“Yeah. I should probably go.”

“Are you too tired to drive? I could drive you back to your
hotel.”

“How much beer have you had?”

“Just the one.” He hadn’t wanted to get drunk and do
anything stupid in front of Savannah so he’d been tempering himself.

She yawned again. “It’s not far. Maybe having you drive
would be a good idea.” Savannah regarded him. “Do you have a driver’s license?
I mean, I have no idea how these things work when you’re not a citizen, which I
assume you’re not.”

“No, I am not. Marco and I are here on work visas. And yes,
I have a license. Would you like to see it?” He grinned. It was a common
question, but it made him smile every time. How did Americans think foreigners
got themselves places when they were living or working in the US?

A blush crept up her face and he practically had to sit on
his hands so he wouldn’t reach for her. “No, no. I believe you. I just didn’t
know how it worked when you were from another country.”

“We got the visas and took them to the, ah, what is the name
of the place where they give the licenses?”

“DMV? Department of Motor Vehicles?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Marco and I went there and took a test.
It wasn’t hard.”

“Shall we go?”

He stood and helped her out of her chair. “After you.”

They bade their goodbyes and Paolo helped Savannah to the
car. “Apparently caffeine makes me sleepy now,” she remarked. “That’s pretty
horrible, isn’t it? That I’m not even safe drinking pop?”

“I doubt you’re a horrible anything.”

Savannah threw a glance his way. “A silver-tongued Italian.
Why am I not surprised?”

“Silver-tongued? What does that mean?”

“It’s a man who charms with words.”

“Oh,” he said with an embarrassed shrug. “Marco is the one
who women usually throw themselves at. Though now that Natalie is around, they
don’t dare for the most part.”

“She seemed nice.”

“She is, except when one of the buckle bunnies tries to hit
on her man.”

“Buckle bunnies?”

“Yes, the women who hang around the tour stops, hoping to
sleep with one of the riders. We call them buckle bunnies.”

“Good to know,” Savannah said with a slow nod.

He started the car and she directed him to her hotel, just a
few doors down from his own.

Making a quick decision, he pulled into a parking space and
turned off the car. “I’ll see you to your door.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“My
madre
would kill me if she found out I left a
beautiful young woman alone to find her way.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “Can’t have your mother murdering
you. I need my research subjects to stay alive.”

Paolo mock-shuddered. “Thank you for saving my life.” He
helped her out of the car and slid his hand around her small waist, finding he
liked the way she fit against him. When they arrived at her door, she pulled
the small key card out of her purse and turned to him.

“Thanks for seeing me home. Your mother would be proud.”

Maybe not if she saw me do this…

Taking Savannah’s face in his hands, he brushed his lips
with hers. He simply couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her.

For a moment she froze and he wondered if she was going to
pull away and slap him, but then Savannah melted into him and he guided her
back against the door, pushing a thigh between hers to anchor her there. Moving
one hand until it slid around the delicate column of her neck, he tilted her
head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. Savannah let out a little moan
and Paolo pressed in even closer, letting her feel his erection. He hadn’t
planned to take it beyond a kiss tonight, but if she wanted him, there was no
way he was going to refuse her.

Her tongue slid into his mouth, caressing his with little
swipes in and out and he knew he’d better either get her inside or leave her
alone before he embarrassed himself.

Pulling away, he asked, “Should we go inside?”

“What?”

Paolo indicated her key card. “In your room?” Savannah
blinked a couple of times and the heat in her eyes banked. The gentlemanly
Italian manners his family had taught him kicked in and he forced himself to
step away from her, clearing his throat. “Good night.”

“Yeah. Good night. See you at the next event.” She pivoted
and swiped her card through the reader before giving him a little wave and
disappearing into her room.

Was she angry? Disappointed? Something else? He had no clue.
But he did know he was going to be forced to reacquaint himself with his right
hand before he’d be able to even consider sleep tonight.

* * * * *

Savannah leaned against the hotel room door after Paolo
left. What had she been thinking? She’d wanted to get to know the bull riders
so they’d feel comfortable confiding in her, but that didn’t mean she had to
sleep with them. Paolo’s smooth Italian accent and playful yet sexy mannerisms
drifted back into her brain despite her attempts to put him out of her mind,
and her knees went weak. Cursing to herself, Savannah pushed off the door and
staggered to the bed, flopping down with a groan.

Why had she let him kiss her? It wasn’t as if it came as a
complete surprise. She’d allowed him to walk her to her door, after all.
Obviously he’d taken it as a sign she’d wanted to be kissed. Not that she
hadn’t. The man was gorgeous, from his rangy build to the dark hair and eyes
that set off full, sensual lips that, whoa, knew how to kiss.

Savannah fanned herself, but it didn’t even begin to calm
the raging inferno his kiss had ignited. And when he’d thrust that powerful
thigh between her legs it had been all she could do not to hump the damn thing.
His strong arms had wrapped around her tightly, pulling her flush to his body
from chest to groin. She groaned again. Going back over the incredible kiss
wasn’t helping and she needed some sleep if she was going to drive alone for
hours tomorrow.

The next morning, Savannah dragged herself out of bed. With
the way she felt, she might as well have drunk the night before. How could she
be hungover if she hadn’t so much as touched a drop of alcohol? Coffee was in
order. There was a small diner attached to the hotel and she trudged down
there, still clad in her sleep pants and tank top with a light jacket thrown
over it. Once she’d acquired a large caffeinated beverage, she took a grateful
sip, not caring if it burned her tongue or not, and turned to go.

She let out a squeak when she nearly plowed into someone.
Pulling her hand with its precious cargo out of harm’s way, Savannah was
grateful she’d kept the top on the coffee. She closed her eyes in mortification
as she realized who it was.

Paolo. Of course.

“Good morning, Savannah.” His accent slid over her name in
the sexiest way and her panties dampened. Dammit, this was not a good time to
get hung up on a guy. His lips quirked as he gave her a lingering once-over. “I
gather you do not like mornings?”

“No,” she grumbled, stepping around him. He didn’t take the
hint and followed her out of the diner. Trudging back to her room, she asked,
“Was there something you needed?”

Paolo laughed quietly and a flare of annoyance rose up until
he said, “I thought you might like some company on your drive today. I know I
hate driving alone.”

How could she be angry with him after a sweet offer like
that?

“Don’t you need to drive with your brother?”

He shrugged. “He’s got Natalie. Sometimes I feel like…” His
brow furrowed as he obviously searched for the word.

“A third wheel?”

Grinning, he nodded. “Yes. You Americans and your strange
way of speaking sometimes confuses me.”

And you’re freaking adorable when you’re confused.

With a sigh, she let them both into the room, grimacing when
she saw the mess she’d left the place in. She’d been in such a hurry to get to
the arena yesterday, she hadn’t picked up any of the various articles of
clothing she’d thrown around while looking for a suitable outfit, and since
she’d fallen into bed exhausted last night after their encounter, she hadn’t
done any housekeeping then either.

Savannah spun to face him. “Don’t you have luggage?”

He grinned again. “Marco has it.”

“Oh. Of course.” She could feel her face heating as she
rushed around, stuffing things back into her suitcase and traveling purse.
“I’ll be better after I have some coffee.” Raising her cup, she took a gulp and
let out a relieved breath as she could almost feel the glorious caffeine shooting
through her veins. With the packing done, she turned to him. “Just let me take
a shower and we can get out of here.”

“No problem.” Grabbing the remote, he sat in the only chair
in the room, looking way too comfortable in her space.

After haphazardly picking some clothes from the messy mound
in her suitcase, she zipped it closed and went in the bathroom and locked the
door. It wasn’t as if she thought Paolo would sneak in there and steal her
virtue—what virtue, after all?—but she still felt better knowing there was a
door with a lock separating them. She rushed through her morning routine and
exited the bathroom less than thirty minutes later. Paolo looked up, clearly
surprised.

“You are ready?”

“Yep. How about you?”

“Sure.” He rose and picked up both bags easily.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He raised one dark eyebrow before saying, “Of course I do.
What gentleman lets a lady carry her own bags?”

Not sure how much of a gentleman you really are, or how
much I want you to be.

Hiding her grin behind her cup, she asked, “So you’ll pump
my gas too?”