Zane Thorne placed the helmet in his hand on the car roof, then took the helmet from Natalie Vaughn's hands and helped her put it on.
"Is it tight?"
"Not tight."
Her throat was dry, and Natalie licked her lips. The man's slightly rough fingers brushed across her face.
Zane opened the car door, and Natalie got in. She had never sat in a race car before, knew nothing about it, and then she heard the man's chuckle. He bent down and fastened her seatbelt for her.
The space inside wasn't large, Zane's hair prickled her face, and Natalie held her breath. The click of the belt seemed to fall on her heart.
"Thank you."
Her voice was like a cat's, and Zane responded, getting up to leave. He didn't pay much attention, and his lips brushed past Natalie's face.
The man carried a fiery aura, yet his lips were cold. Even though the touch was brief, it was enough to short-circuit Natalie's brain.
