Page 14 of The Duke's Virgin

I didn’t have much more time than that to appreciate her because Emmett directed my attention back to the car, and I leaned forward to study the engine. I was the top sponsor, although the fact wasn’t well known. A popular sporting outfitter in Luxembourg took top billing while I continued to handle the bulk of the financing, but I also enjoyed working with the engineering and mechanical team when I had time.

It wasn’t as often as I’d like, and as time went on, I knew that I’d been spending even fewer weekends here in Monaco with my American friend, but I had every intention of enjoying it while I could.

“What do you think of the changes?” Emmett asked.

“I think they’ll help,” sliding him a look from the corner of my eye, I said pointedly, “but I’m not driving the car. The question is what doyouthink?”

“Hey, if I wasn’t on board with them, I wouldn’t have said yes. I’ve got a great sponsor who gives me alotof control when it comes to shit like this.” He winked at me.

“Lucky bastard.”

We talked a few more minutes, and he pointed out some other minor changes. I’d noticed two of them, but the others were so minute, I wouldn’t have seen them without his direction. “Why take that route?”

Emmett went into a complicated explanation that I mostly followed, but Formula One racing regulations changed so frequently, staying on top of them all but required one’s attention on a regular basis, which was something I couldn’t give.

I wasn’t bitter. As much as I’d prefer to spend my days getting my hands black and messy with grease as I tinkered with a prime machine like this with the express intent to make it gofasterwhen it was already one of the fastest machines on earth, it wasn’t my reality. But I had parents who’d encouraged me to spend free time on my hobbies when I could, so I’d had the chance to pursue this passion freely.

There were others in my position who couldn’t say the same.

“You’ve got a new admirer.”

I frowned at him.

“Hey, at least she’s not rushing at you with her tits hanging out.” Emmett grinned, his eyes straying only briefly over my shoulder.

I didn’t follow his gaze, but my attention went on red alert. “Slim? Wearing a hat and some sort of floral overshirt?”

“It’s called a duster.” His lips twitched in a smile. “You already noticed her. Can’t say I blame you. She’s pretty. And, like I said…she’s not trying to hang all over you with her tits out. That puts her over some of the other…admirers you’ve picked up.”

“I haven’t picked them up,” I said irritably. “I can’t help if women stare. They stare at you too.”

Emmett shrug. “Because I win races and get my face plastered on TV and the internet. If I start losing, they won’t pay me any attention. That’s not the case with you.”

“You’re right.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “They stare at me because I have a title and money.”

Emmett ran his tongue across his teeth. “We should give ourselves more credit. We’re both good looking bastards, Luka. And I don’t know about you, but I’m hung like a fucking horse.”

I burst out laughing. Emmett had that effect on me. He always had, from the time we’d met as teenagers. There were some Americans who had a fascination with my title, but most were like Emmett. It didn’t mean shit to them.

That bothered some people in my station.

I liked it.

It was…freeing to be taken for who you were instead of where you came from.

A booming sound came over the speaker system. Next to me, Emmett smacked his hands together before clapping one over my shoulder. “Almost time, man. We’re going to win this one, I know it.”

His excitement was contagious, but I responded only with a smile. “A bonus, then, if you make it happen.”

“Hot damn.” His southern American accent thickened when he was excited, and the words came out likehhawwt day-yum. “Another reason for me to win. I keep telling my mom I’m going to redo their back yard and give them a swimming pool setup like you see on one of the crazy TV shows. A bonus would take care of that just fine.”

At his obvious glee, I couldn’t help but laugh, and I returned his hug. As we broke apart, I caught sight of her again, the slim, pretty woman.

She’d removed her hat and held a glass of wine in a ringless hand, her nails unpainted, oddly alluring. Without the hat, I could see her features more clearly, although she hadn’t removed her oversized sunglasses. Her hair was a warm shade, caught between golden and brown, and the sun plucked out paler shades that seemed too natural to have been forced at a salon. A few strands escaped and curled around her face, making me think that when she didn’t pull it back, her hair might be a crazy mass of ringlets and waves. I found it an appealing picture.

“Go talk to her,” Emmett suggested.

I scowled at him, then gestured to the team as they bore down on us. “You’ve got other things to worry about, ace. Let’s see about securing that bonus for you.”