Dust clouded the humid air as wheels spun out and rear ends fishtailed on the dirt track. Drivers pushed their Sprint cars to the limit, fighting each other for the lead in a raucous race toward the finish line. Eileen Lavoie shielded her eyes from the blaring, afternoon sun and watched Bobby Donaldson overtake the lead car. She smiled, not at all surprised by his driving. He was her team's number one driver and considered the best in the county. Bobby may be known as reckless, but his carefree style—or maybe, his lack of brains—made him a beast on the track. He took chances and went for the gold, even if his moves were considered dangerous. But that was Bobby: full of piss and vinegar. Typical man on top of his game. A flash of yellow from the pit below caught her attention. She stared down at the crew rolling away equipment. Immediately, her gaze halted on the new guy. She licked her lips and glanced over every masculine inch of him. The view from above was simply delicious. God, the man had a body any hot-blooded woman would kill to run her fingers over .
