Free Accelerated Passion by Lily Harlem Page B

glanced at his groin.
    She tutted, loudly. “Behave.”
    “Doesn’t happen often.”
    Frankie gave him one last withering look then walked from the room. Just when she thought she was having a decent and meaningful conversation with him. The moment she stopped thinking he was a prize dickhead, he’d ruined it all.
    He’d said she was sexy!

Chapter Seven
    The car was sleek and shiny, ready to leave the pits and hit the track. There was a buzz in the air as the crew waited for Dean to arrive and take it on its first test run on the Hockenheim.
    Frankie waited nervously with Paul. They’d tweaked some of the aerodynamics, minor adjustment, at her suggestion and were hoping it might knock a tenth of a second off his fastest lap.
    Dean strode into the workshop, dressed in his driving suit.
    As usual, the atmosphere changed when he appeared. The car was the star of the show, but without the conductor, the orchestra that was the finely and exquisitely tuned machine couldn’t make a tune.
    “Hey,” he said, grinning as he looked around. “Ready to take on the circuit?”
    “We sure are,” Paul said, handing Dean a helmet. “Great conditions for it, too.”
    “How long we got?”
    “An hour if we need it.”
    “Shouldn’t take that long, should it?”
    “No,” Frankie said. “We’ve just tweaked a few things, want to see if we can gain time.”
    “Your fastest around here is…” Paul frowned and tapped the side of his head.
    “Fifty-eight point two-three,” Frankie finished for him.
    Dean raised his eyebrows. “And you think I can scrape that back?”
    “Worth a go.” She ran her hand over the bonnet. “Just keep her in one piece.”
    “Well, I’ve never planned on crashing, even though I’ve had a few knocks.” He tugged up his fire retardant mask so only his eyes were showing. “And I’m definitely not planning on doing that on this goddamn graveyard track.”
    “Good.” She glanced around, ensuring the mechanics were all in order. They didn’t want to waste their time slot by not being prepared.
    Dean slipped into the seat. Instantly, Enrique was there with the wheel. Two other guys worked on the seatbelt, checking his safety. Paul and Jake removed the bricks at the front.
    The engine started.
    “Here goes.” Dean gave her a mock salute. His voice was muffled through the helmet.
    She nodded then held up her stopwatch.
    The car rumbled as it left the pits then growled at the starting line.
    The flag dropped.
    She started the clock.
    The car roared away, the back end giving one quick tail shake as the acceleration almost took it to break point.
    Within seconds the sound faded.
    Paul and Jake and the other mechanics went to watch the screen, but Frankie stayed where she was with her attention on the finish line. She hoped her minor adjustments would make a difference. It would make her move to McLaren worthwhile. It would make sense to Eric and Dean why she’d been recruited.
    “Do you think he will do it?” Enrique asked.
    “Let’s hope so.” Her heart pounded. Butterflies swarmed in her belly. “Maybe not on the first lap, but we’ve got a few chances.”
    The screech of the car’s engine had dulled, but within seconds, it started to strengthen. Dean was heading their way again. Likely past the three-quarter mark by now.
    Frankie’s thumb hovered over the stopwatch. She kept her focus on the line and concentrated on the sounds of the engine whacking up and down the gears as he negotiated a couple of particularly notorious and dangerous bends.
    Suddenly, the car was there again. A blur of silver and red racing their way.
    Wait, wait, wait.
    She clicked the watch at the exact moment the nose touched the finish line.
    She hardly dared look.
    She did.
    Fifty-eight point two-one.
    “Wow.” She could hardly believe it.
    “What is it?” Enrique’s shoulder nudged hers as he strained to see.
    “We’ve taken it down from point two-three to point two-one.”
    “ Puto infierno ,