Just as Natalie got into the car, Sebastian pulled open the passenger door. She looked at him, confused. “What are you doing? Get out. I have something urgent to do, you’ll just be in the way.”
“This is my car,” he reminded her coolly.
Natalie was in a hurry, her words tumbling out quickly. “We’re still married, which makes this marital property. So get out, I have an emergency.”
Sebastian paused. So now she acknowledged they were husband and wife.
Only when it was convenient for her.
“Where are you going? I’ll go with you. It’s too late, I’m not comfortable with you going alone,” Sebastian insisted. Someone was tailing her; she could be in danger at any moment.
Natalie knew he was more stubborn than a bull. Not wanting to waste her breath arguing, she just started the car and drove off.
On the road, Natalie drove with a speed and stability that was impressive.
Sebastian was suddenly reminded of the street race he had witnessed.
Her movements had been fluid and captivating. The Natalie he saw that night had stunned him.
He decided to ask the question that had been on his mind. “When did you learn to race?”
“Around thirteen, I think,” Natalie said. “I trained at a professional track. I found it thrilling, so I practiced for a couple of hours every day.”
“There was so much to learn, so I never got that good at it.”
Sebastian’s mouth twitched. She was being far too modest. Not that good? She was better than Taylor Woodard.
He, on the other hand, had been left in her dust miles behind.
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