Prospective begining

I'm not fully sure what i'm going to do with this. I don't think it's quite right for a short story but equally i don't know where to go with it to turn it into a novel.

The Jaguar engine bellowed, its deep thrum reverberating around the valley as it swept through the tight chicanes. It’s headlights flashed across dark farm houses and silhouetted dozy live stock as the sleek dark green E-type powered across the countryside. The driver rested a brown leather clad right hand on the polished wood steering wheel, the other slipped a silver Zippo lighter from his pocket. He eased the car into the next bend and buried his right foot, sparking the lighter and touching the flame to the tip of the Benson and Hedges in the corner of his mouth. He snapped the lighter shut and nudged the gear stick into fourth. Perfectly styled black hair, blue eyes with a broad, clean shaved jaw. He oozed confidence. He wore a Tailored pinstripe midnight blue suit with a light blue shirt and red tie, he black shoes glittered as they tapped up and down on the pedals, feathering and lifting as the engine howled and the tires protested, however never going fire enough to squeal. 

The blonde girl on the passenger seat next to him sat bolt upright in contrast to her drivers nonchalant but attentive posture. She gripped the edge of her seat, her dainty fingers tipped by red fingernails. She wore a red dress under the beige men’s overcoat which she had be lent to ward of the cold, however in her panic he had let it fall open. She let out a slight squeak as the car mounted a crest and all four wheels left the tarmac, firmly pressed her deep red lips together as the tires reconnected with the road to rebuke herself for protesting.

“Am I driving to fast for Madame?” asked Daniel, the first words he had said to her since they had left London an hour previous. He soothing public school accent had little effect on his passenger as she pushed herself back into the seat in anticipation of the next bend.

“You have probably been told I’m called Daniel, but you can rest assured that’s not my real name.”

“Rest assured?” asked the girl nervously

“Bad choice of words” he responded with a smile as their journey returned to the sound of the straight six engine and tortured tires.

As the roads straightened out the girl allowed her self to relax a little however he eyes stayed fixed ahead in anticipation of another twisty section of roads. As the sun crept over the east horizon Daniel slowed the car and turned right onto a narrow dirt track. He leapt out of the car to open the gate revealing himself to be on average height and with a slight swagger to his step. Back in the car with the gate shut behind them they proceeded down to narrow track, Daniel seemed to wince every time one of the wheels bounced through a puddle and splashed mud down the side of the car.

Eventually the track opened up to reveal a white cottage with a battered Land Rover parked in front. The front door was open and a women dressed in a skirt and blouse stood casually leaning against the frame holding a cigarette between her fingers. As Daniel brought the car to a stop she flicked away the butt and walked to the girls side of the car.

“My sincerest apologies about Daniels driving” she offered with an outstretched hand to help the girl up from the low car, “I do fear he fancies himself as a rival to Jackie Stewart sometimes”, he voice was slightly rough with a touch of touch of private education.

“It’s quite alright”, mumbled the girl as she followed the woman into the cottage.

“You can call me Amanda,” said the women over her shoulder, “but you can rest assured that’s not my real name”.

“Rest assured?” Questioned the girl nervously

“Yes, quite” responded Amanda as she led the girl through to the kitchen where she placed a kettle atop the Aga and began looking through the cupboards.

“Please sit” said Amanda, gesturing towards the large wooden table in the middle of the Kitchen. The whole room was pristine, not a speck of mud of the flagstone floor, the thick wooden surfaces totally spotless. The cottage just didn’t feel lived in.