Page 86 of Dream Chaser

Neither did Nova.

I told myself it was because she was still scared and she needed my arms around her.

Even though I was the one who needed to hold her.

***

Once in Valencia, I checked us into an exclusive beachfront boutique hotel with an indoor pool and spa. The owner, Rys Delano, was a friend of mine and Asher’s. He recommended this hotel when I listed the things Nova loved.

Now we were both here, with nothing but a wall between our rooms. After the turbulence scare, she’d spent most of the flight in my arms, napping while I tried to focus on my book, and now I wanted her near, wrong as it was. I wanted to make sure she was okay. To give her comfort if she wasn’t.

But she had plans with Kaia, who was also staying here with Asher so they could see the city later.

I left the luggage in my room, took a shower, and joined Asher at the hotel’s restaurant. We were meeting for lunch, and he was already at the table, gaze fixed on the rolling waves behind the window.

“Sorry for making you wait,” I said, sitting.

He shook his head. “No worries. I just got here.”

“Any race jitters yet?” I wouldn’t be surprised if he had them—winning on Sunday would bring him the World Champion title.

His shoulders rose and fell under his black shirt. “Too soon for that, but I want to win.”

“You will, mi niño.”

The race weekend would be full of meetings, networking, and chances to get more work for my agency. If Asher won, more sponsorship deals would follow.

Good for Asher. For me. And good for Nova.

Frustration pressed down on my chest. I couldn’t seek her out. What if, to her, our embrace on the plane had been nothing more than comfort after the turbulence scare?

“Ale?” Asher nodded toward the waiting server. I’d zoned out, and as I quickly skimmed the menu, nothing seemed appealing, even though Delano Hotels boasted exquisite cuisine.

“I’ll have paella,” I said.

“Same.” Asher closed his menu. Once the server left, he drummed his fingers on the table. “I got an interesting email. Thought I should let you know.”

I pushed my rolled sleeves higher. “A sponsor?” Odd, since the agency handled everything business-related, but nothing surprised me anymore.

Asher pulled his phone from his pocket. “Not quite. It’s an offer of representation from a Spanish agency. I was wondering if you knew them.”

He slid the cell across the table. I skimmed the email. The last lines socked me in the gut.

Deportes Espinosa.

I should’ve fucking known, but it still felt like being doused in icy water. Of course, he’d go after one of my biggest clients. How many others had he tried to steal?

“What are you going to answer?” I nudged the phone toward Asher, my stomach twisted into coils.

He arched a brow. “You’re kidding, right? I’m obviously going to ignore this. Just thought you’d want to know.”

I lifted and dropped a shoulder. Casual, even though my calm had vanished the moment I saw my ex-boss’s name in that email. “You should probably see what they offer first, mi niño.”

Asher sipped his water. “Your agency’s the best. They must be desperate to reach out like this. Unfortunately for them, I’m not interested. Unless…” He narrowed his eyes. “You want me to find out their conditions, do you?”

“It won’t hurt,” I said as the server set our paella on the table. We thanked him, and I picked up my fork. “Knowing them, they’ll splurge.” Ignacio had taught me just that—don’t be cheap if you want them to trust you with their career. Make them an offer they can’t refuse. Even though I loathed it, I still used most of what I’d learned from him.

“You seem to know them well.” Asher scooped up a forkful of rice.