Di Sione's Innocent Conquest (The Billionaire's Legacy) (5 page)

He hadn’t turned a hair at her jeans; he had made her feel relaxed and comfortable as she had told him the terrible mess she was in.

‘Tomorrow is work,’ he said as Abby climbed into the car but then, just before he closed the door, he gave her that smile. ‘Not that we can’t enjoy ourselves while working.’

The car drove off and Abby found her heart was thumping. They had very carefully laid the ground rules at the table—they were completely hands off, she knew that.

Matteo’s inference had been that they would simply enjoy provoking the press and the opposition.

It was her own imagination that was for the first time, if not exactly running wild, then peeking out and blinking at the sun.

A dark sun named Matteo Di Sione.

CHAPTER THREE

A
BBY
DIDN
’
T
SLEEP
WELL
.

Yes, their conversation last night about money should have reassured her but Abby knew that she’d lied to Matteo.

They didn’t really have a hope of making fifth place.

But they had to though.

Not just for the chance of Matteo investing in them.

Her breakfast was delivered and Abby decided to eat it in bed and, as she did, she took out her laptop and read the news.

The sports news, of course.

The Boucher team barely got a mention.

The Carter team were on form, she read, and the Lachance team got plenty of mentions too.

Or rather Hunter did.

She looked at him, dressed in his familiar yellow leather and wearing that cocky, arrogant smile, and if there was such a thing as pure hate, then Abby felt that now.

She wasn’t scared of him any more.

It had been nine years since that terrible night and now, instead of scared, she was angry.

And it was such an undiluted, white-hot anger that ravaged her that it required revenge.

Hunter was thirty-four now and, to date, the Henley cup had been his for nine of the past ten years.

The one year that he had lost it had been the night that Abby had chosen to end their brief relationship.

Foolish timing perhaps but she had arrived in Monte Carlo and had sat in a hotel room, knowing their time together had ended.

They had only been going out for four weeks but Hunter wanted to move things along.

He’d invited her to Monte Carlo.

There would be separate hotel rooms, Hunter had assured her, given he needed his space before a race, but Abby knew very well what was going to come after.

She had gone on the pill but even as she had flown there, Abby had known that the nerves she felt weren’t the ones you should be feeling when you were about to lose your virginity.

Hunter made her feel nervous, in a way that she couldn’t quite define.

It had been cars that that had drawn them together at first but it hadn’t taken long to realise he didn’t want a discussion.

Hunter talked and she was supposed to listen.

Everything she had said about cars he had dismissed.

Oh, at eighteen, who wouldn’t be flattered to be going out with a star and to be picked up and whisked off to Monte Carlo in his private jet?

Only the gloss had already worn off by then.

Abby hadn’t wanted to go but her father had been appalled when she’d suggested cancelling.

Hunter’s jet was already on the way!

And so, Abby had gone. She had had a few drinks for courage during the race and then back at the hotel, as Hunter had faced the press after his surprise loss, Abby had had a couple more.

He had phoned and said that he was back at the hotel and Abby had taken the elevator up to Hunter’s room to tell him that no, she didn’t want to go out tonight and neither did she want to stay in.

In fact, Abby had already booked a ticket and was flying home to New York that night.

As her father had later pointed out—you don’t tell a man who has just lost a cup that you’re breaking up with him.

So what? Abby had thought at the time.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with him and if she’d stayed, then she knew how the night was expected to end. Abby didn’t want her first to be Hunter; it had been as simple as that.

And, her father had also added, Hunter’s lawyers would make mincemeat out of her, given that she’d gone to his hotel room after all.

Drunk.

‘Not drunk, Dad, I was just...’ But then she had stopped trying to describe how she had felt that night as she’d knocked on his hotel door.

Abby couldn’t really remember how she had felt before it happened.

She simply couldn’t remember who the woman was that had stepped into a man’s hotel suite and expected to be able to speak her mind.

Which she had.

They were over, Abby had told him.

‘Not quite,’ Hunter said.

She hadn’t fought enough, according to her father.

There wasn’t a scratch on Hunter after all.

Abby had frozen when first he had grabbed her and then she had tried to run but had only made it a few steps across his suite and he had pushed her into the bathroom.

And when
it
was over, when she lay on a cold bathroom floor and thought she could not be more broken both inside or out, Hunter had stood and then urinated over her.

Just to be sure.

Absolutely he had broken her.

Not now.

‘I’ll take that cup from you,’ Abby vowed and spoke to the screen. ‘You’ll go out the loser you really are.’

Matteo was right: it was all about mind games.

Today Hunter and the other teams would find out that Matteo Di Sione was considering coming on board.

And that would rattle them.

The Di Sione empire was amazing—from shipping, to apps, to computers, they had their hand in everything and had money everywhere.

Matteo was right again: she needed to ooze confidence, not dread.

Maybe now was not the time to be spending money on clothes when she was worried about the hotel bill but there were slim pickings in her wardrobe.

There was a dress that might have been handy for dinner yesterday but wasn’t suitable for a gala event.

And then there was the dress that Abby had sworn she would wear if they ever made it to the podium.

It was sexy; it was the colour of tarnished silver with a slight green hue and just way too much for today.

Truth be known, Abby could never see herself having the confidence to wear it—wherever they placed.

She knew that she would have to buy something for today.

Abby signed into her bank account and blinked when she saw the balance.

Oh, my God!

Matteo had meant what he said about ensuring they had every chance of winning.

Nervous, excited and more than a little bit relieved, instead of quickly dressing and hitting the shops Abby dealt with serious business first and rang down to Reception. Having made the necessary arrangements, she called Pedro.

‘Hi,’ Abby said when he picked up.

‘Abby, I don’t have time to talk.’ Pedro’s tone was clipped. ‘I am just going down to the pool and then I’m hitting the gym.’

‘About that,’ Abby said. ‘Pedro, I’ve just spoken with Reception and you’re being moved to a suite with its own lap pool and gym.’

‘You’re serious?’

‘I am. Someone’s already on their way to move your things.’

‘Abby, thanks,’ Pedro said. ‘This will really help with my training.’

‘Good.’

It seemed like an unnecessary luxury, but Abby knew that it wasn’t. The facilities in Dubai were stunning and she knew only too well that the other top teams would be utilizing them. Pedro would be out running in the midday heat. He would do everything he could to get his body prepared for the race and so it was very nice to be able to give him this.

Now
she could concentrate on getting ready for today.

The shopping in Dubai was supposed to be amazing too but Abby really didn’t have the time or the inclination to explore. There were, though, some boutiques on the ground floor of the hotel and one had caught her eye when they checked in.

It wasn’t one of the famous international designers; instead it was a niche boutique from a local designer and tentatively Abby stepped inside.

The dresses were exquisite and, when the assistant found out where she was going today, she took Abby under her wing.

Abby had studied fashion for a year; she could mentally dress anyone so long as it wasn’t herself. Even though she had been pushed into it by her father, Abby had vaguely enjoyed it and knew what she liked—and understated was it!

‘This one,’ the assistant said, holding up a dress in pale coral. It was a very sheer fabric with a slip dress beneath and it was very feminine and floaty and really not the sort of thing Abby would choose.

‘What about this,’ Abby suggested and held up a similar dress in grey, but the assistant shook her head.

‘Try the coral one on.’

Oh, Abby hated this.

It felt as if she was dressing up for a family photo, she thought as she stepped into a large changing room. But reminding herself it was business, she put the dress on.

‘You look very elegant,’ the assistant said after she had asked Abby if she could see it on.

‘It’s a bit much.’ Abby shook her head, thinking of it with high heels, but the assistant was far more used to this type of thing and disappeared.

‘Try these,’ she said when she returned and handed Abby a pair of flat strappy sandals. They were thin jewelled straps and yet somehow very neutral, and when she tried them on the assistant was right—the dress looked more sophisticated than it would with high heels.

‘I like it,’ Abby admitted.

‘You need to get your hair smoothed out and then tied back,’ the assistant said and, remembering Matteo’s comments last night, Abby wondered if people in Dubai just spoke their mind.

‘I really don’t have time to get my hair done,’ Abby said, given that it was well after nine.

‘I can ring over to the salon,’ the assistant pushed, ‘if you are pressed for time.’

‘Sure.’ Abby gave a tight smile as she paid.

She then went into the hairdresser’s and had her hair smoothed and there she bought a lipstick that would go better with the dress.

Abby didn’t have time to be nervous; she was far too late for Matteo for that. But even so, she managed to be as she stepped into his hotel and saw him waiting in the foyer.

‘Wow!’ he said. ‘You’re worth the wait.’

Somehow he both welcomed her and told her off for keeping him waiting.

‘We need to get going,’ Matteo said.

He really had no idea of the effort she had gone to in order to get her looking like this and Abby kind of liked that about him.

Still, she wasn’t so much nervous as they walked to the car; rather she was incredibly aware, not of her unfamiliar attire, more of the man she was with.

Very, very aware.

That was the best way she could describe it.

She was aware of the dry warmth of his hand on her arm as he led her to the waiting car.

And aware of him as he stretched out beside her and then popped a couple of painkillers and took them without water.

‘Do you have a headache?’ Abby asked, guessing he must have hit the clubs after he had dropped her off last night.

‘My shoulder,’ Matteo said.

‘You should have worn the sling.’

‘I know.’ He just shrugged and obviously it hurt to do so because he winced, but then he turned the conversation to work as the car moved through the magnificent streets. ‘How’s Pedro?’

‘He’s being moved to a better suite as we speak,’ Abby said. ‘He’s much happier than he was this time yesterday.’

‘And if Pedro’s happy, we’re all happy.’

‘Thank you,’ Abby said. ‘Whether or not it makes a difference...’

‘Oh, it will make a difference,’ Matteo interrupted but then he saw the anxious dart of her eyes and guessed she was worrying what would happen if they didn’t place fifth. ‘Just enjoy the buildup to the race,’ Matteo said. ‘We’ll see what happens on race day and then we’ll speak after.’

The charity gala that his sister had organised was a huge event and must have taken a lot of work to plan.

There were beautiful people everywhere and no, Abby didn’t feel overdressed now; in fact, she was very relieved that she hadn’t gone for grey.

It was just such a beautiful summery day and they headed off to find his sister.

‘What’s she like?’ Abby asked.

‘Who, Allegra?’ Matteo checked and rolled his eyes. ‘She’s a goody-two-shoes. Don’t mention to her that I’ve hurt my shoulder.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’ll worry,’ Matteo said. ‘There she is.’

He called out and waved with his good arm, and an attractive woman came over and they greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek. ‘This is Abby,’ Matteo said. ‘My latest venture.’

‘Matteo,’ Allegra scolded.

‘Business venture.’ Matteo grinned. ‘How are you?’

‘Busy,’ Allegra admitted. ‘What have you done to your eye?’

‘I just knocked into a door.’

‘I don’t believe you for a moment,’ Allegra said. ‘And I can’t believe you’ve been here for more than a week and I haven’t seen you.’

‘Well, you had this to arrange.’

‘It’s been crazy...’ Allegra admitted but didn’t finish her sentence—someone was calling out to her and she gave Matteo and Abby an apologetic smile. ‘I really would love to stop and speak but I think it’s going to have to be later.’

‘Allegra,’ Matteo said. ‘I need to speak to you about Grandfather.’

‘Now?’

He nodded and Abby saw that his expression was completely serious. ‘He’s not doing too well.’

‘I know that,’ Allegra said. ‘Bianca and I have already spoken to him.’

‘I think you need to take some time and go and see him,’ Matteo said. Allegra closed her eyes and it was clear that she was upset.

‘I know he’s not well but...’

‘Come on,’ Matteo said to his sister and he took her by the elbow. ‘I won’t be a moment,’ he said to Abby as he led Allegra somewhere a little more private. Abby tried not to watch but she glanced over once and saw Allegra put her hand on Matteo’s shoulder and give it a squeeze.

His sore shoulder.

Oh, poor Matteo!

He didn’t wince; Matteo just took Allegra’s hand from his shoulder and gently let it go.

They were far from gushing with each other but Abby could tell, even from this distance, that they cared about what was being discussed.

It was so different from her family.

Annabel and Abby could go months without so much as a brief catch-up, and as for Abby and her father...

Maybe she should make the effort, Abby thought.

Yes, he had hurt her a lot when she had told him about Hunter’s attack but, trying to be fair to her father, though he hadn’t handled it well, maybe he had been grieving.

Never more than at that time had Abby wanted her mother, but she had been dead for three years by then.