CHAPTER 6: CHAPTER 6: DOMINANT, ARROGANT, OVERBEARING, SEXY

The man’s hands were not only large, but his arms were also strong and muscular. The moment he leaned over, the scent of male hormones instantly enveloped Natalie Vaughn.

Growing up, aside from sparring in karate with James Vaughn, it was the first time she had been so close to the opposite sex. The smell was different from that of the meticulous James; this man had a pure masculine scent, rugged and aggressive, she could even smell tobacco.

He must have just smoked a cigarette not long ago.

Perhaps the fall had hurt too much, but Natalie felt as if she recognized this tobacco smell.

Zane Thorne picked Natalie up and promptly placed her on a nearby cement block. The thin fabric of her pants brushed against the rough surface, and she instantly felt the coarse texture beneath her. Standing was quite challenging in her current predicament.

As he set her down, the man withdrew his hand just as quickly, leaving the spot around her waist where he had held her burning. Natalie blushed, thinking to herself, are all men’s temperatures as high as his?

"Thank you."

Letting out a breath of relief, Natalie felt slightly less embarrassed and looked up at the man before her. His tall figure blocked a small part of the sky, the light was dim, and she still couldn’t make out his face, but she couldn’t ignore those deep, dark eyes.

He was scrutinizing her again.

Natalie’s heart suddenly tightened; his gaze was overwhelmingly intrusive.

Zane Thorne lowered his head, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the young girl sitting on the cement block. Her legs were delicate; both knees were scraped, with red blood contrasting against her pale skin, catching one’s eye.

He recalled seeing Natalie’s red toenails that one night.

Though it might not be the kindest thought, the clash of red and white on her was indeed quite striking.

With this thought, Zane’s eyelids moved slightly, raising his eyes to look at Natalie’s face.

Besides those few physiological tears, Natalie hadn’t cried out in pain. But her eyes, dampened with a bit of moisture, didn’t require any words or gestures.

With teary glimmers, so delicate and moving, they stirred a sense of pity.

Even Zane, after a quick glance, averted his gaze. The hand that had held her waist was now behind his back, with his fingers moving unconsciously.

Natalie tried hard to see the man’s face, but he turned and walked away without saying a word.

Dressed in a black short-sleeve shirt, camo pants, and black mountain boots, his simple outfit exuded masculinity. At this moment, Natalie clearly sensed the man’s build.

Those legs were incredibly long and too attractive.

Lost in the man’s physique, Natalie failed to notice him walking into the ROX Team’s tent.

The rain intensified suddenly, with only a single tree barely providing cover from the downpour. Frowning, Natalie looked down at her injuries. Raindrops washed away the dust and grime on her knees, but the blood continued to flow. Although the wound wasn’t large, having it soaked in the rain wasn’t ideal. Both her palms were also scraped, aching slightly.

The audience over there remained enthusiastic, cheering loudly, and Natalie didn’t expect Phoebe Quinn and Aaron Channing to notice her.

Natalie contemplated whether to call Phoebe Quinn or handle things herself.

Meanwhile, over at the tent, Zane Thorne had found a first-aid kit and was watching Natalie, who was sitting in the rain. No matter how he looked at it, she seemed like a mischievous kitten who had gotten into trouble, injured yet still proud and stubborn.

He set down the first-aid kit and picked up an umbrella.

The rain showed no signs of easing, and with her long hair soaked and sticking to her neck uncomfortably, Natalie used the back of her hand to adjust it, regretting not bringing a hair tie.

If this continued, she might go insane.

Natalie took out her phone to call Aaron Channing. With Phoebe Quinn rarely coming out to watch a race, Natalie didn’t want to ruin her mood, but with the noise over there being so intense, she couldn’t get through despite calling several times. The phone slipped from her hands, hampered by her injury, falling to the ground.

Emotions built up throughout the day seemed ready to burst at this moment, and those black mountain boots appeared in her sight once more.

Natalie blinked, the rain-blurred vision becoming clear. She looked up, and the man who had turned and left just moments ago had returned.

Her mind seemed to freeze, and Natalie didn’t understand why he had come back. Then, suddenly, an umbrella was placed in her hands.

Zane bent down to pick up the phone, initially intending to hand it to her, but after glancing at her hand, he slipped it into his own pocket instead. Natalie watched him blankly, her mind still struggling to process, until she found herself being lifted into his arms.

Natalie’s eyes widened instantly, snapping back to reality.

"What are you doing?"

Zane looked down at her.

"Hold the umbrella properly."

His voice was low, husky, with a grainy texture.

Instinctively, Natalie raised the umbrella, her ears tingling. The man’s chest was broad, his arms strong; even while holding an umbrella with one hand and supporting her with the other, she felt completely secure.

The man’s scent was even more intense, the tobacco smell clearer.

Thump-thump, her heart inexplicably went into chaos.

She finally saw the man’s face clearly.

His hair was slicked back, with a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead, a tall, prominent nose, sharp profile lines, a chin with some stubble, and a slightly sensual Adam’s apple.

Natalie swallowed secretly, encountering such a man for the first time; she found the tobacco smell on him oddly appealing.

She forgot to struggle, forgot to mind his impudence.

Once inside the ROX tent, Natalie only then realized what had happened.

The broad palm, the raised veins, the somewhat familiar scent of tobacco...

Natalie’s eyelashes trembled slightly, her eyes full of shock. She stared at his chin, her mind quickly recalling all she knew about Zane Thorne.

The feeling this man gave her made it seem like she had found the answer.

Zane didn’t concern himself with what Natalie was thinking. The young girl, though tall, was surprisingly light to carry. After setting her on a chair, he turned to get the first-aid kit.

When he returned to Natalie, she was still sitting there, holding the umbrella cluelessly.

Zane unexpectedly chuckled.

"Did you hit your head?"

Hearing this, Natalie looked up at Zane, meeting his deep black eyes, before quickly looking away, tossing the umbrella aside as if it were a hot potato.

Zane raised an eyebrow, setting the first-aid kit in front of Natalie, picking up the umbrella she’d discarded, and heading out of the tent.

Having been delayed by some matters, he hadn’t managed to arrive before the race. Although he didn’t drive or coach, he never missed a race by any member of his team.

Natalie sat there for what felt like an eternity—long enough for the man to have long gone—until a gust of wind finally blew in, snapping her out of her prior shock.

He... was Zane Thorne?

Natalie lifted her hand, pressing it over her chest, trying to calm her somewhat restless heart.

The scent seemed to linger at the tip of her nose.

Aside from the tobacco, she couldn’t distinguish any other scents, only feelings—

Strong, arrogant, domineering, sensual, loudly proclaiming themselves in her unknown territory.

She even remembered the warmth on her waist and behind her knee from his touch.

Natalie licked her lips; she felt an even stronger urge to peel away the mysterious layer enveloping him.