Racing for Freedom - By Bec Botefuhr Page 0,32

good image and all that.

When we get into the decked out hall, people are in our face immediately. Cameras, lights, questions. I flinch away and close my eyes, I hate god damn journalists. Slade squeezes my arm and carefully answers all their questions.

“Slade, are you and Dash on speaking terms now?” one asks.

“Yes, we are.”

“We heard the last few years have been tough for the two of you?”

“We’re past that now.”

“Reports are that you two have been seeing each other?”

“Yes, we are.”

WHAT? I pull my arm out of his and glare over at him. “No, we’re not.”

He looks calmly at me, like he didn’t just say that. I turn and storm off, furious that he would say that to a massive group of people, reporters no less. I get offered a glass of champagne from a waitress passing by. I swallow it and grab another, searching around for John. I see him standing in the far corner, when he notices me, he waves and I hurry over.

“Hey Dash, you look lovely.”

“Thanks John, how are you?”

“Good, we’ve got some good sponsor’s for you this year. They’re all impressed with your racing.”

I beam. “That’s awesome.”

“Did I see you come in with Slade Devaroe?”

“Image.” I mutter.

“Right, be careful, his father is up to no good.”

I stare over at Michael who is chatting to a team of sponsors, he hasn’t realized his own son is here.

“I’ll stay away from him.”

“Good, well mingle and have fun. Speeches start soon.”

I chat to a few local racing sponsors and put on a pretty face. I notice Slade chatting with a group of girls, who are all running their hands over his arms. Ugh. Does he ever stop? I sit and wait for everyone else to do the same. When the speeches begin, I stare across the table at Slade who is chatting to a blonde. I don’t understand him, out front before he was totally different and now…why is he behaving like we don’t know each other?

“Well,” the man making the speeches says, making me turn my eyes to him. “It’s time for some dancing and fun. I would like to offer our two favorites to the floor for a dance. Slade Devaroe and Dasha Jewel, where are you?”

I close my eyes and sigh. Dammit. Slade stands and looks over at me, I put my champagne down and stand too. When we meet at the end of the table he takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor. It’s a good image, that’s all it is. Good image. Good image. When Slade wraps his arm around my waist and my hands slide around his neck, I feel my body come to life. Being this close to him is dangerous.

“Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you baby, does the thought of me holding you drive you crazy, do I have your love, am I still enough, tell me don’t or tell me do I baby…”

The song from famous country singer, Luke Bryan, fills my ears as Slade and I move. His eyes are on mine and for the life of me, I can’t force myself to look anywhere else. We’re staring at each other and it’s intense. His hips are moving against mine, our bodies are pressed together and I’m licking my lower lip like I want to crash tackle him to the ground and kiss him until he can’t breathe.

When the song finishes, Slade, reluctantly releases me. I swallow and force my legs to hold me up, even though they’re trembling so badly, I’m sure they’re going to collapse. Slade strokes my cheek softly, then he turns and walks off. The crowd all cheer and clap, and I’m left standing completely dazed and confused. I manage to get myself back to the table, and I sit down in my chair, taking deep breaths. Everyone is up and mingling again before dinner, so I take a moment to myself.

“Stay away from my son, Dasha.”

I whip my head around to see Michael approaching. Great. I stare up at him, furious that he just can’t seem to leave me alone.

“I have no interest in your son, Michael.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard and it’s certainly not what I just saw.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“I know what you’re doing, you’re trying to get close to him, so you can weaken him to win the race.”

“You really do have an overactive imagination.”

He glares at me and leans down close. “You don’t know my son anymore, Dasha Jewel. He

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