Maharaja's Mistress. Susan Stephens

Lucky for her she had every excuse during the race to gasp and moan freely, as she imagined Ram’s technique being transferred to a very different set of skills. With the roar of the highly tuned engine blotting out all extraneous noise she could really let herself go. Ram was everything she had ever looked for in bed—

      In a driver, Mia corrected herself as they screeched round the final corner and Ram powered up to the chequered flag.

      She exclaimed with relief as they crossed the finish line and Ram brought the monster machine to a screeching halt. Lifting off her helmet, she threw herself back in her seat, laughing with relief and happiness. The whole experience had been incredible—and quite an education. And the race had been good too, Mia conceded dryly as Ram removed his helmet and ruffled his thick black hair.

      ‘You’re still alive, then?’ he said, turning to look at her.

      Alive? She felt properly alive for the first time since…for ever. ‘Did you see our time? According to my calculations we just knocked a good three seconds off last year’s record.’

      ‘Not bad,’ Ram agreed. ‘And good to see you did your homework,’ he added wryly.

      Would he expect anything less of her? Slanting a glance at him, Mia guessed not.

      But then he started laughing.

      ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.

      ‘I think you must have forgotten that I can hear every sound you make through the headphones—’

      ‘Every—’ Mia’s cheeks fired up.

      ‘Every sigh and gasp—every sexy little groan you make,’ Ram confirmed, staring at her with unbearable male smugness.

      ‘Well, I can see why that might amuse you,’ Mia agreed. ‘Though…sexy little groan? I don’t recognise that. I can only conclude you’re going deaf and need to turn your microphone up.’

      ‘And I’m equally sure you need your heat control turned down.’