A short while later, the chauffeur pulled up outside the Wynn and Bianca and I parted, our moment over. I was both disappointed and relieved. I needed to get out of this car and put some space between myself and the flirtatious driver to reassess exactly what had happened here. The hotel was huge, towering over us and disappearing into a bright, blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen and as we each exited the car; we were hit by a wall of suffocating desert heat. Thankfully we didn’t have to suffer it long. A concierge met us and once the driver hadunpacked our baggage, we followed behind her as she showed us into the lobby. I booked our trio in, just as the rest of the senior team arrived behind us.
“Here you are, Mr Wright. Enjoy your stay and good luck this weekend.” The concierge handed me three room keys and cast me a bright smile. I returned it.
“Thanks.” I turned to Bianca and Sophia, holding out keys for them. “We’re in the Wynn Tower suites.”
We all made our way through the hotel towards the lifts, our bags trundling behind us across vast marble floors. Sophia snatched a leaflet from a table besides the elevators whilst we waited for one and continued to flick through it as we bundled inside. The lift dinged and the doors slid shut before jerking and rumbling as it flew past floor after floor.
“Hey, there’s a private pool for the tower suites,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ll head straight there once I’m unpacked. I bet a dip would feel great in this heat.”
Bianca murmured her agreement, leaning in to inspect the leaflet over Sophia’s shoulder. As they chatted between themselves, I simply watched the numbers counting up on the digital display above our heads in silence.
A private pool sounded like heaven, but just considering sharing it with Bianca had images of that tiny McLaren bikini flashing through my mind. There was no way I’d be able to resist her if she pulled a stunt like she had back in the car, and I got the sense Bianca was only just getting started. I’d have to do my best to avoid running into her, but I had to admit the thought of a swim was really tempting.
The elevator dinged and announced our floor. The three of us headed out into a long, lavish corridor, greeting our security detail as we passed them by. The two men were posted at the lift and fire exit entrances to prevent any unexpected visitors. The F1 fans were mostly a fantastic bunch of people, but some wereknown to be a little overzealous with their desire to meet and greet the drivers. These men were here to ensure no one entered our floor unless they were permitted to.
We finally located our rooms, each neighbouring one another, and after muttering a few farewells, we disappeared inside the suites.
I dumped my stuff down at the doorway, unbuttoning my shirt and peeling it off my hot, sticky skin before draping it over the back of a chair. With a heavy sigh I flopped down onto the bed. The suite was beautiful and exceedingly luxurious. It would be no hardship to call it home for the next five days.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out. In the short time it had taken us to get from the airport to the hotel, I’d already accumulated over a dozen emails. There was no time to rest. I sat up with a groan, running my hand through my hair before snatching my laptop bag. Perhaps I’d get a few hours of work done now and then risk heading to the pool. Hopefully Bianca and Sophia would have been and gone by then and I would be free to enjoy myself for an hour or two without having to worry about keeping my eyes (or hands) off Rossi.
Chapter five
Bianca
The first afternoon in Vegas went without a hitch. After the long flight and car journey to the hotel, the team and I were all booked in and did little but relax and unwind ahead of a busy weekend of racing.
After theinterestingdevelopment in the team car, I had hoped to see Kristian again, but it appeared he was back to avoiding me. I wasn’t sure if he was doing so on purpose, but Mr Wright was a real tease and it drove me crazy, in the best way. I wasn’t used to not getting what I wanted when it came to the attention of men, and his being hot and cold excited me more than I would care to admit.
Instead of worrying about it, I’d slipped into one of my tiniest bikinis and had joined Sophia out on the deck that surrounded the private pool. Each of the suites had access to it and I knew it was only a matter of time before Kristian, and I crossed paths out here. I waited for him, but as the hours ticked by and the sun began to set, it became apparent that day was not to be today.
Sophia and I went our separate ways, each exhausted from a long day of travel and an afternoon of sun and headed for ourrooms. As I entered, I caught sight of my reflection and lifted the edge of my bikini bottoms to check my tan lines. I was certain they were already a little more vivid, even from just that short time out basking beneath the desert sun.
I threw myself down onto my bed, belly first, and sat up on my elbows. With my phone in hand, I scrolled social media, my feeds already swamped with well wishes from fans and posts from my fellow drivers as they each arrived in Vegas with their teams.
With my mind still on Kristian, I navigated to Instagram and pulled up his account. It was decidedly tame, no real posts that weren’t promotional or about his work with Invicta. His other accounts were much the same and it became clear he didn’t use his social media outside of a professional capacity. I scowled, I hadn’t expected to see him posing for a team principal nude calendar or anything, but I had hoped to see alittlemore of his personality. Kristian Wright was an enigma, and I was determined to figure him out.
Giving up on snooping through social media, I turned to Google. I opened a search and typed in what I was most curious about:‘Kristian Wright girlfriend’. The first image that came up was him beside a gorgeous brunette and my stomach dropped. I quickly scrolled to the article.
‘Kristian Wright, F2 Invicta Racing team principal, splits from long–term girlfriend and model, Amélie Barber.’
She was a model, no wonder she was so beautiful. I stared at the picture of them, side by side at a red–carpet event. I wondered what had happened to split them up. I scrolled a little further past some adverts to read the rest of the article.
‘Kristian Wright and girlfriend Amélie Barber are over after almost three years of dating. The Invicta Racing team principal confirmed the split to Sporting Monthly, saying “Yes, Amélieand I broke up about a month ago.” He added, “There’s certain things that just didn’t work out.”
However, in April, an insider told us that "Amélie and Kristian have been doing their own things lately. Amélie is so busy and hasn’t been putting any pressure on herself to be committed to anyone or in a serious relationship.”‘
That sounded like perhaps it hadn’t been Kristian’s idea to split. The article was over two years old, so at least the breakup wasn’t a fresh wound, but I scoured the internet and Amélie was the only mention of a significant other I could find in relation to Kristian Wright. I supposed it wasn’t impossible that he was seeing someone new – he was certainly a private character and kept his personal life to himself – but I somehow doubted that was the case. My mind drifted back to the way he’d stroked his fingers down my leg in the team car and I shivered.
Hopping to my feet decisively, I opened my phone’s camera, adjusting my bikini and fluffing my hair. Satisfied I was looking the best I could, I snapped a few shots. I tested different angles until I got one, I was pleased with – one that made my boobs pop, and my waist appear slimmer. I fiddled with the filters, selecting one I liked before navigating to WhatsApp. I tapped Kristian’s name and brought up the short string of messages that had passed between us. They were all terse and strictly professional. I grinned, knowing what I was about to do would set the chat alight… hopefully in a good way.
BIANCA: Missed you at the pool.
BIANCA: Sent a photo.
With a flurry of excitement and nerves, I locked my phone screen. I knew Kristian had that fucking phone practically glued to his hand. I wouldn’t have to wait long until he’d seen the message. I pressed my lips together, fighting a smirk, my knee jiggling up and down as I waited for the response. When my phone buzzed, I snatched it up.
KRISTIAN: Did you mean to send this to me?
