‘I don’t know how to say this politely but sod the flaming champagne. We’re going to be walking down the pit lane.’
With that, she grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him to his feet. With one last longing look at the gently fizzing contents of the champagne flutes, Zac followed her.
***
Kat was inclined to agree with Debs; this was the best day, ever. And the race hadn’t even begun. The thrill of walking down the pit lane, spotting famous faces, stepping on the same tarmac that Hamilton and co. had stepped on. Of looking down on the track from what had to be the best place to view the race.
Of sharing all this experience with her giddily excited niece, who seemed younger, and happier, than she had in a long time.
Then of course there was the smoothly handsome man next to her. A man who turned the heads of nearly every female in the VIP enclosure, yet who, for some inexplicable reason, seemed only to notice her.
‘It looks like they’ve started,’ Zac remarked, eyes on the cars streaming past them.
Kat eyed him quizzically. ‘It’s the warm-up lap.’
He returned her look with a bland smile. ‘Sure, I know that.’
Possibly, she thought, though she was beginning to suspect his knowledge of Formula One was very much on the basic side.
Soon she was too absorbed in the race to wonder about anything other than would Hamilton achieve what the vast majority of the crowd were hoping for – a British win. It was gripping, nose to tail racing. Watching it on the television hadn’t prepared her for the electrifying thrill of seeing the cars thunder past. To feel that speed. The noise levels had been cut a few years ago but to Kat, who’d never been to a race before, the scream of the engines still sent shivers down her spine. When she glanced sideways at Debs, who was to her left, her niece had a look of sheer, unadulterated awe on her face. ‘OMG, this is so cool.’
Kat grinned back before turning to look at the person to her right. Only to find his eyes fixed firmly on her.
His mouth curved in a slow smile. ‘Is it how you imagined?’
She laughed, the sound breathy with excitement. ‘Better.’
‘Good.’
She turned back to watch the rest of the race, and though she couldn’t be certain, she had a feeling his eyes remained on her more than they did on the track.
‘Hamilton was awesome. He must really love winning here,’ Debs remarked as they finally drifted back towards the car park. Her niece was clearly still on a high, because not only was she engaging in conversation, she’d not looked at her phone once, other than to take photos.
Kat watched as Zac gave Debs a small smile. ‘He must.’
‘What do you think of McLaren this season?’ Kat directed her question at Zac. ‘Reckon their car is any better?’
His eyes blinked, and for a second she was sure she saw panic, but then all his acting skills came into play and he gave her a smooth smile. ‘Just a smidgen, maybe.’
‘To think, they used to have Button and Alonso driving for them. I mean. I can’t even remember the names of the drivers they have now. Can you?’
Zac furrowed his brow, giving every impression of a man thinking hard. ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t.’
‘What about the names of the Ferrari drivers?’
Debs opened her mouth to answer, but Kat shot her a look. ‘Let’s let Zac answer this one, shall we? If he can.’
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘What is this, a test?’
‘In a way, yes. And I’ve got a strong feeling you’re going to fail. So, Edwards, the names of the two Ferrari drivers you watched today. I’ll even give you a clue. One of them came third.’
His lip curled in a gesture of disdain. ‘I’m not interested in third place.’
And with that, she started to laugh. He really hadn’t watched the race at all. ‘Wow, you’re acting your socks off, aren’t you? You might not be interested in who came third, but if you were at all interested in Formula One you’d have probably been to Silverstone before, you’d definitely have known where the seats you’d bought were on the race track, and you’d not only have known the names of the Ferrari drivers, no matter where they came in the race, you’d be able to list all the drivers on the track today.’
Zac didn’t reply. Instead he walked swiftly towards the car.
‘Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook,’ she murmured as she turned on the engine. ‘I want to talk to you when we get back.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he drawled, eyes straight ahead.
By the time they made it back to the house, it was late. Debs was quiet as they walked inside and Kat started to worry something was up until she saw her niece taking several glances at Zac, before inhaling a deep breath.
‘Zac … I mean Mr Edwards.’ Zac gently shook his head in admonishment at her. ‘Zac,’ she began again, rolling her eyes, this time looking a little less nervous. ‘Thank you for taking me today. It was, like, so fun.’
‘I’m glad.’ Then he smiled, and if there was one thing guaranteed to add the final sparkle to her niece’s already brilliant day, it had to be receiving a wide, genuine smile from Zac Edwards. ‘Thank you for coming with us. Taking you,’ his gaze drifted over to Kat, ‘taking both of you, was entirely my pleasure.’
Her niece’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m going to catch up with Anna, now. ’Night.’
Kat watched Debs climb the stairs, and the moment the door to her room shut, the air seemed to spark into life, crackling with an energy that sent goosebumps racing across her skin. ‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked Zac. ‘Something to eat?’
Zac shrugged off his jacket, folding it neatly and placing it over his arm. ‘I’m fine, thank you. I think I’ll just head to my room.’
‘Oh no. You’re not getting away that lightly. We need to talk.’ As dangerous as the atmosphere felt between them, she needed to know why he’d gone to Silverstone today. ‘So, I repeat, do you want anything to eat or drink?’
He gave her a long, guarded look. ‘Why do I feel like the condemned man being asked for his final requests?’
‘I’m not about to condemn you. Just to interrogate you.’
‘Now I feel much better.’ With great precision, he rolled up the cuffs of his shirt. ‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’
‘A Jägerbomb and a packet of pork scratchings?’
He baulked. ‘Is there an option B?’
‘A glass of red with some cheese and crackers?’
‘Much better.’
She waited until the food was on the coffee table and they had a glass of wine in their hands before asking the question she hadn’t dared ask in front of Debs. ‘So, tell me, Mr I’ve just paid an obscene amount of money for 3 VIP tickets to Silverstone. Do you actually like motorsport?’
‘I don’t dislike it.’ He took a careful swig of his wine. ‘Cricket is more my sport. More finesse. Less … speed.’
‘So if you’re not a fan of F1, why did you go to Silverstone today?’
His lips formed another wry smile. ‘I could argue that it’s the place to be seen, but we both know it would be a lie.’