Di Sione's Innocent Conquest (The Billionaire's Legacy) (12 page)

‘Get here.’

She nearly ran.

To him.

Matteo guided her so that she sat on his stomach and he poured the last of the brandy onto his hand and then rubbed it into her breasts.

‘The only way to drink brandy.’

She knelt over him as he made sure there was no brandy left on the left. Abby’s thighs were shaking, her neck was arched. One hand was on her hip as the other went straight for the kill. His hand slid past her exposed clitoris, leaving his thumb there while his fingers burrowed deep inside.

He changed breast.

She nearly lost her mind.

He just worked her as skilfully as she’d tune an engine. It hurt, the nicest hurt, and then he left her swollen, wet, slightly bruised breasts and his free hand started stroking himself again.

‘Matteo...’

‘I’m not going to.’

Abby’s head lowered, just to watch them. Who was this woman, in obscene panties and loving it?

‘Oh...’ She just moaned as his fingers and thumb seemed to meet in the middle of a wedge of intimate flesh. He stroked her deep on the inside; he exerted pressure on the outside till her stomach seemed to meet her spine.

And yet, she couldn’t—she let out a sob, borne of desire and frustration, and then felt as if she were choking, because everything in her tightened as Matteo started to come.

He had felt her tip—thank God, he thought, because it was past the point of no return, but he had never enjoyed himself more in the bedroom. Or anywhere else come to that.

Abby closed her eyes, regretting that she had no choice but to, because the feel of him hot and pulsing against her was surely a sight to be seen as everything that had been missing spasmed.

Then she opened her eyes to the lovely sight of him pulling out the last of his come and then stroking it into her and she sank down on him rather than pull back. The intense feelings were better shared and then Abby sat back on her thighs and tried to drag in air.

Half an hour ago, she had glimpsed what it might be like.

Now she knew.

‘What does it feel like,’ Matteo asked, remembering the power of his own first come.

‘Better than sex,’ Abby said as he pulled her down, but to the side of him.

He knew how to do her right.

CHAPTER NINE

M
ATTEO
WOKE
FIRST
.

They hadn’t had much sleep.

The fashion show had continued until the early hours and they had pretty much done everything but make love.

Sex.

It felt like more than sex, even if they hadn’t.

Whatever they had done, and they had done plenty, it had been amazing for both—oral sex had never tasted so good and Abby had just spent the last half hour before dawn, on her back, with Matteo’s fingers over hers and, yes, she would sleep easily at night now.

But Abby wanted more than a part-time lover as her first and he respected that.

Matteo didn’t like it but, yes, given that she had waited so long, he understood that she might want a little more than the occasional phone call, or the promise of more when he arrived in Monte Carlo.

The easiest thing now would be to turn off the alarm, cancel the jet, kiss her awake and let her team start to work on dismantling the car, as he set to work on the walls that came between them.

Yet he lay there, staring up at the ceiling and remembering the promise he had made a very long time ago.

Oh, Matteo loved a gamble but as he looked over to where she was waking he knew that the stakes were too high.

He wasn’t going to risk hurting an already damaged heart.

‘You have to go?’ Abby said.

She had woken to the pensive air and guessed he was wondering how to politely kiss and leave.

‘I do,’ Matteo said. ‘And you’ve got a car to dismantle.’

Abby lay listening to Matteo in the shower and she knew she’d been right to hold back.

She didn’t regret what had happened, but it did change things irrevocably.

There was an unfamiliar hollow feeling inside her because what had taken place last night felt very different this morning. There was little closeness now as Matteo came into the bedroom and quickly dressed.

‘If you need anything for Monte Carlo...’

‘We’re pretty much sorted,’ she said.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Well, if Pedro wants...’

‘He’s going to Rome with Bernadette for a few days,’ Abby interrupted. ‘The team will all be together again five days before the race.’

‘I might not be able to get there until the day or so before.’

‘Or an hour or so before,’ Abby said.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to.’

‘I’ll just see what happens with work.’

It was a horrible end to a blissful night. He went to kiss her but she just turned her face away and, in truth, he was relieved she did.

He simply couldn’t go through the motions with Abby, even in that.

Matteo was glad she’d insisted on no sex last night. He’d promised to sleep with her, no strings attached.

For the first time, Matteo wondered if he’d be able to.

It was surely better to stay back.

* * *

He didn’t call.

Abby knew that he wouldn’t. Matteo was a master at setting his boundaries, and that he wouldn’t do relationships was his big one.

Somehow she had to accept that fact.

The circus moved on.

Pedro and Bernadette flew to Rome for some romantic downtime while the rest of the team went straight to Monte Carlo. Usually she’d be there, overseeing the car’s arrival, but Abby had put it off.

There were a lot of bad memories in Monte Carlo; Matteo knew that and yet, still, he did not call.

He wanted to.

Or rather he wanted a life that had existed before April. One where the Lost Mistresses had been just an old tale that his grandfather had told. He wanted the life he had once led back—fast paced, lots of sex, not getting off to a memory.

Matteo was angry.

Every time he thought of calling Abby he would pull up the image of himself and his father coming out of a casino some thirty years apart and, if that wasn’t enough of a reminder, the arrival of an email from Ellison was.

Any progress? Abby has formally declined my invitation.

Good for her, Matteo thought. It was Ellison’s do the Friday after the race and he was tempted to reply to the email with two choice words.

Yet, he was as complicit in the attempt to get her to the function, wearing the necklace, as her father was.

Even Giovanni had called wanting an update and Matteo had been unusually terse with the old man.

Matteo knew that he had to speak properly with his grandfather.

Yes, he was angry.

Abby deserved better—someone who would deliver on the relationship front and, according to his lineage, Matteo never could. Even if by some miracle he could negate that fact, he knew that the moment Abby found out about the origins of his supposed interest in her team, it would end them.

Checkmate.

And so the day she got to Monte Carlo he fired one very rapid text.

Hope preparations are going well. I’ll try to make it for the practice race.

And then he fired another text to Pedro, reminding him what they had discussed, and the best that Matteo could do was hope Pedro would take his request seriously.

Pedro did.

* * *

Abby hated being here.

She woke up and let out a tense breath as she checked her phone and of course Matteo hadn’t called.

Only it wasn’t just Matteo’s imminent arrival that had Abby in knots.

Matteo had been right; Hunter was playing mind games because he’d changed hotels again and two days before the race had checked into the one that the Boucher team were staying at.

Yes, it was a different hotel than the last time she had been here, but just being in a hotel in Monte Carlo already had Abby on edge.

There was a knock at the door and it was the Perpetual Pedro wanting to go down to breakfast.

‘I just want to run through a few things,’ he said.

‘Sure.’ Abby nodded. ‘I’ll meet you down there.’

‘I’ll wait.’

‘How’s Bernadette?’ Abby asked, because last night when Abby had headed back early from dinner, Bernadette had said that she had a headache and had joined Abby on the walk back to the hotel. Bernadette had even come up to Abby’s room for a cup of tea and a chat about the press conference tomorrow and the practice race.

‘She’s doing great,’ Pedro said.

‘Good.’

Abby left Pedro in the corridor and grabbed her bag and then they headed down to the restaurant.

‘Ready for the press conference?’ Abby asked when they had been shown to their seats, and Pedro nodded but then he looked up and smiled, and Abby saw why.

Matteo was here.

‘Hey!’ Pedro said.

‘How are you?’ Matteo asked him.

‘I’m confident,’ Pedro said. ‘Actually, I think I might take breakfast upstairs. Is that okay?’ he checked with Abby and, as she nodded, it dawned on her then the reason Pedro or Bernadette had barely left her side.

‘Did you tell him to watch out for me?’ Abby challenged as Matteo took off his jacket and took a seat.

‘Yep.’ He met her angry gaze. ‘I’m not going to apologise.’

‘What on earth did you say to him? You didn’t tell Pedro...’

‘Of course not,’ Matteo said. ‘I just told him that I’d had a couple of choice words with Hunter and that I didn’t trust his temper. Pedro agreed with me!’

‘He did?’

‘Yep. He knows what a bastard he is.’

‘I’ve been managing fine for the past eighteen months...’

‘You weren’t winning then,’ Matteo pointed out.

He looked terrible, Abby thought.

There were black smudges under his eyes and she guessed he hadn’t shaved for the best part of a week.

‘What time’s the press conference?’ he asked.

‘Eleven.’

‘I’ll stay for that and then I have to head off. I’m catching up with Kedah and we’re going out on a friend’s yacht. I’ll be back tomorrow for the race but then I have to fly out straight after.’

‘Matteo.’ Abby took a deep breath. They hadn’t even slept together and they were sniping and avoiding the other and so she told him what she had been building to since the morning he had left her hotel room.

‘Can we just take it back to business?’

He closed his eyes and then nodded.

‘You don’t have to avoid me,’ Abby said. ‘Look, as much as you turn me on, I don’t want to sleep with you.’ She just said it, not knowing that the waitress was standing beside her waiting to take the breakfast order and then he laughed and said that he’d like his eggs sunny-side up please as Abby just about face-planted the table.

And then, just like that, they were friends again, but even as they smiled, there was, though, for Abby, something more that needed to be said. ‘Matteo, thank you for the other night. I mean that. I have no regrets—it was amazing but...’

‘There’s always a but.’

‘Not really. I know you don’t want to take things any further and I get that. I respect that...’ She gave him a smile. ‘I don’t have to like it.’

He liked that she was honest.

‘I need more though.’ Abby told her truth. ‘I’ve waited a long time. Or rather I’ve been so messed up that I’ve missed out on an awful lot and I just want, well, when I do sleep with someone, it has to mean something.’

‘I understand.’

‘So thanks for the offer of a sex lesson but I shan’t be taking you up on it.’

Matteo let out a breath of both relief and regret.

Relief that they were finished with.

Regret that they would never be.

‘Are we good?’ Abby checked and he took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘All good.’

* * *

And so they stood, side by side, but not holding hands, as the stars of the show took their places.

It was the deciding race tomorrow and Evan, Hunter and Pedro were all a chance.

The winner would take all.

But though the desire to win burnt bright, it was no longer driven by revenge. There
was
next year, Abby thought.

It didn’t all have to be now.

She wanted next year. More than that, she wanted the team she had built to all be together, but then a journalist asked Pedro the question that was on everyone’s lips.

‘Are the rumours true about you signing with the Lachance team next year?’

Pedro looked over to Abby and she gave him a smile and a very slight nod, letting Pedro know that he could answer with the truth—they had made a deal after all.

‘I’ve been approached.’ Pedro shrugged.

‘And?’

‘In fact, they asked to speak with me yesterday,’ Pedro continued, ‘but as I said to them—their cars are as dated as their drivers.’

There was a small stunned silence at the obvious provocation and then the cameras started flashing and Hunter got up and walked out.

‘Game on,’ Matteo said.

The practice race went well and then Matteo disappeared to get ready for his night on the town. Abby had a lot of work to do on the car and so it was Perpetual Pedro who hung around.

‘Go!’ she said to Pedro when it was close to seven. ‘I don’t need a babysitter and you need to sleep.’

‘Abby...’

‘Pedro,’ she warned. ‘I have every right not to walk in fear and I’m exercising it. Go.’

Reluctantly, Pedro did and Abby worked till after ten, fine-tuning the engine till she was as happy as she could be with it and then she took a cab back to the hotel.

She was ready simply to go to bed and to do her best not to think of what Matteo was up to now that she had let him off the hook.

Abby climbed out of the cab, wondering if she could be bothered to get room service. The moment she walked into the foyer though, there was Matteo walking with Kedah, both looking like the two playboys they intended to be tonight.

Clearly they were just heading out.

Matteo had shaved and was wearing a suit and had that arrogant, rich gleam in his eye and he was, Abby knew, about to exercise
his
right to get royally laid.

‘Abby?’ He frowned as she passed them and he saw that she was alone. ‘Where’s Pedro?’

‘In bed, where he’s supposed to be before a race!’ Abby angrily answered. ‘Don’t ever mess with my team and tell them what to do. You were supposed to be hands off, remember!’

‘I was just...’

‘Well, don’t! It’s not your job to look out for me and neither do you have the right to interfere with Pedro’s build-up to the race.’

A car was waiting for them in the forecourt and as Kedah climbed in he waved to Matteo to get a move on.

‘Your friend’s waiting for you,’ Abby said. ‘Have a
great
night, Matteo.’

She just brushed past him, loathing herself for the anger and jealousy that had shot from her lips. He didn’t deserve any of that. They had agreed to no-strings sex and she had been the one that had backed out.

What the hell was he supposed to do? Abby thought as she closed the door to her room and stripped off her greasy overalls.

She ran a bath and, as it filled, sat at her desk, trying to type up the adjustments she had made to the car but the figures all blurred before her eyes. There were emails she had to answer about order of events for after the race but all she could think about was Matteo and where he was right now. Then she suddenly remembered the bath.

Thank God for the overflow, Abby thought, and then she climbed in the overfull bath and cried.

For him.

For them.

And for the wish that she had at least slept with him.

Once.

Her first because, if not technically, Matteo would have been her first, and the way she felt about him it felt right that it be him.

It was his lack of feelings for her that hurt.

She lay in the bath and let the hot water relax her and over and over she topped it up and tried not to think about Matteo and Kedah in some sordid hot tub.

Bastard!

Except he wasn’t.

He had been completely lovely with her.

She got out of the bath and it was close to one and she knew that she had to be up at five and was just about to take her robe off and climb into bed when there was a knock at the door.

And despite brave words that she was fine without a bodyguard, Abby felt a prickle of fear.

Matteo was out, Pedro would be asleep. She knew that because he was always in bed by seven the night before a race.