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heart started to pound unnaturally fast.
    Lord, she was in trouble.

CHAPTER
THREE
    RHETT leaned against the closed door of Shawn’s office and drank in the sight of her. She had the same impact she’d had on him Saturday night. There was something just inherently sexy about her. It was the way she tilted her head slightly when she spoke. It was in the careless tumbled look of her soft, shiny hair, currently pulled atop her head in one of those weird twist buns that women did when they didn’t want to deal with it. Tendrils curled over her graceful neck, and her face was free of makeup, her lush lips naturally a deep pink. She didn’t seem aware of her looks. She didn’t carry herself with that in-your-face sexuality that some cleavage-baring, fake-eyelash-wearing women did. Nor was she sweet and shy and demure, unable to meet a man’s eye.
    Maybe it was that she seemed to know exactly who she was and was completely comfortable in her own skin, which he found very hot. Even now, coming face-to-face with a man she had briefly met in a fetish club, she didn’t look particularly uneasy. She stood up and stuck her hand out, clearly in her element in her own office.
    “Maybe we should formally meet, even though you clearly know who I am.”
    He moved forward and took the offered hand, keeping it longer than was strictly appropriate. “Rhett Ford.”
    “Shawn Hamby. Sorry I didn’t believe your name was Rhett. I thought you were being coy.”
    “I’m not cheesy by intention. Just cheesy by birth.” He finally let her hand go when she gave it a pointed look. “My mom was living out some fantasy, and I pay the price every day.”
    “I bet it makes you lucky with the ladies.”
    Oh, that was just too good of an opening. “Not yet today. But there’s still time.”
    She rolled her eyes. “So is it true? You’re driving a Monroe car in the Modifieds this season?”
    “Yes. I believe I am on your schedule here at Hamby Speedway.” Rhett gestured for her to sit down, himself taking the seat in front of her desk. “Ironic, isn’t it? That we would meet where we did.”
    “I suppose it is.” She tightened the bun on top of her head, making it lopsided. “I am looking forward to the season. I’m planning a big media blitz, and if you’re interested, I’d love for you to play a big part in that. I think your story will get a fair amount of attention.”
    “My story?” He wasn’t aware that he had a story, nor did he really want to talk about one. He was there to ask her out, not talk racing.
    “Yes. Your decision to leave one Monroe crew to join another, and to start racing yourself. That’s all a bit nuts in the world of racing, you know.”
    He knew that. He’d heard it from just about everyone he knew in the business. “Yeah, well, I don’t see any point in staying somewhere I’m not completely happy. Guys compete for those pit crew positions and it wasn’t fair for me to be taking it.”
    “You didn’t like it? Yet you’re not leaving being on a crew.”
    Rhett noted the way she moved constantly, fidgeting in her seat, her hands always fluttering, running over papers on her desk, up to her necklace, on to her hair. The more still he was in his chair, the more she seemed to move. “I guess I like things a little more down and dirty, a little more real. Without the big money and the engineers.”
    It was true. He liked the grit of dirt track racing. The money sucked, which was why he was still running a crew for Eve Monroe. But it wasn’t about the money, it was about besting himself out there. The pure competitiveness. It was like fencing versus ultimate fighting. Both required major skill, but he preferred it raw.
    No shocker there.
    “I wouldn’t mind a little money either,” she said, laughing nervously. “But I get what you mean. I like the passion of dirt track myself. You have to love it to be in it.” Then she tilted her head. “I mean, of course, those in the cup series love it,