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

by Carol Marinelli

  Kedah seemed hell-bent on returning the wild week Matteo had given him on a recent trip to New York City. The second day had been spent galloping at breakneck speed with his friend along a beach. Matteo had taken a tumble and dislocated his shoulder. The sheikh had called for his private physician to put it back. With Matteo’s arm strapped and a little out of action they had hit the racetracks and placed a few bets on a camel race. The potential two years’ jail time for illegal betting had only served to give Matteo an extra high!

  It had been a giddy introduction to Dubai but now he had crashed back to earth—the smell of oil was nauseating and the sound from the track had his molars aching. He’d lost the sling that the physician had provided and so his shoulder was killing him.

  And Abby Ellison was nowhere to be seen.

  It was after four and he wondered if she might have finished for the day. A group of guys were watching as Pedro, the Boucher driver, put the car through its paces. He knew it was Pedro because Matteo recognised the deep green of the Boucher car.

  Matteo had done some further research on the team, of course.

  They had entered in the prestigious Henley Cup. A series of three races—Dubai, Milan and Monte Carlo. The final race took place in July a week before Ellison’s fundraiser.

  As newcomers the Boucher team wasn’t being taken seriously, especially because the owner was a woman. Just a little rich girl playing with her daddy’s money seemed to be the general consensus.

  Pedro Sanchez, their driver, was someone who was being watched seriously though, and there were a couple of other teams who had their eye on him.

  The group of men all ignored him and that suited Matteo just fine. He just drank from a large bottle of cola and idly watched.

  Or rather, at first, he idly watched.

  Matteo had never really been in to cars and not just because his parents had died in a crash. His father had once taken a five-year-old Matteo for a joy-ride.

  There was no joy in that memory!

  Still, this was different—Pedro was really putting the car through its paces now, hugging the bend, belting it down the straight, and the roar of the motor was, as it flew past him, a bit of a turn-on.

  ‘Whoa!’ one of the guys shouted as the car lost traction, but then Pedro skilfully righted it and Matteo watched as the car again sped down the straight and then slowed down as it came towards them.

  ‘Hey...’

  Matteo turned as someone greeted him and blinked in vague surprise. ‘Pedro...’ Matteo shook his hand; he recognised the young man himself from his research. ‘Sorry for the double take. I thought that I was watching you out there. I didn’t realise there were two drivers.’

  ‘No, no...’ Pedro said. ‘Soon you’ll get to see me drive. That’s Abby—she’s just checking out some adjustments that she has made.’

  Matteo looked back at the car and, sure enough, climbing out from it, dressed in tight leather, was no man, and the vague turn-on Matteo had felt before was rather less vague now.

  He hadn’t known that he was in to leather either!

  The racing world was looking up, he decided as she took off her helmet and the fire guard and then shook her long dark hair out.

  She was tall enough to wear her curves well, and if she only smiled he would return it with the best of his. And Matteo’s smile could melt. But then he remembered he was not here to seduce and so he kept his business expression on.

  ‘So,’ Pedro said, ‘I hear that you have a meeting with Abby.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Good,’ Pedro responded and he could hear the slight edge to the man’s voice. ‘Then I guess it’s time for me to show you a little of what I can do.’ He looked over to Abby, who had reached them now. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Oh, she’s running like silk now.’

  They spoke as if the car was a person!

  ‘I’ve warmed her up for you,’ Abby said and then, as Pedro headed off towards the car, she finally acknowledged Matteo. ‘Di Sione?’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘But you can call me Matteo.’

  Abby didn’t return the smile.

  Instead she blanked him and turned her attention to Pedro, who was climbing into the car.

  Was she always this polite with investors? Matteo pondered.

  ‘How long has Pedro been out here?’ Matteo enquired, wondering how long he’d had to acclimatise to the hot and humid conditions.

  ‘Long enough,’ Abby said and then carried on ignoring him as Pedro started to do some laps.

  ‘Why don’t we...?’ Matteo started but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the engine and he had to wait till Pedro had passed before continuing. ‘Why don’t we go somewhere we can talk?’

  Still she ignored him and watched the track intently and then, when Pedro had finished a few laps, she turned and finally answered him.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I don’t need an investor who wants to pull me away.’

  ‘But Pedro’s finished.’

  ‘I’m watching the competition,’ she said.

  ‘And you do need an investor,’ Matteo said.

  Not this one, Abby thought.

  She knew the Di Sione name, of course she did, and she had looked Matteo up.

  Of course she had.

  Reckless, wild and debauched, she had read, but looking at the photos of him and finding out a little more about her potential sponsor, it didn’t take long for her to work out that he was also as sexy as all hell.

  And Abby didn’t like sexy.

  It terrified her, in fact.

  Abby had seen and recognised Matteo the second she had stepped out of the car. He was even better in the flesh and her stomach had curled in a way she would prefer it did not.

  She had also seen and felt his eyes roam her body as she had walked towards them and had felt her cheeks turn pink from that fact.

  ‘Can I get earplugs?’ Matteo asked. Another team was taking their car out and his hangover was making itself known again. ‘I guess we can resort to sign language if we’re not allowed to go somewhere decent to talk.’

  ‘Decent?’ Abby frowned. What sort of a sponsor was he? Didn’t he get that she lived trackside?

  She watched Evan put his car through its paces. She had been waiting all day to watch this. Evan Lewis, driver of the Carter team, was one of the Boucher team’s toughest opponents. Her friend Bella, who she had studied engineering with, worked for the Carter team and had told Abby that the engine, along with the driver, were poetry in motion. Yes, she had waited all day to see this but as Evan in the aqua-blue car tested the track, she found that she couldn’t concentrate.

  Matteo stood beside her, swigging from his bottle, which made her thirsty, and as she licked her lips he offered her a drink, as if they had known each other for months.

  She gave him a terse shake of her head and he moved forwards and leaned on the rail and bent over a little.

  And she noticed.

  Oh, she tried to watch Evan but her eyes kept flicking to Matteo’s long legs and to a white, slightly crumpled shirt that, despite the heat, wasn’t damp. He had a bruise over his left eye and she wanted to know where it had come from. He put down his bottle and in her peripheral vision she saw that he was undoing his shirt.

  What the hell?

  He turned then and gave her a smile as he popped his hand into the gap he had made in his shirt. ‘I’ve hurt my shoulder,’ he briefly explained.

  She didn’t return his smile, nor did she comment.

  Instead she walked off.

  Matteo had had enough. He’d just have to work out another way to get his grandfather the necklace because if this was the way Abby dealt with sponsors he could just imagine her reaction to him suggesting what she wear to her father’s fundraiser!

  ‘Guess what,’ he said as he caught up with her. ‘You’ve just lost possibly the most hands-off sponsor you could have ever hoped find...’ He looked int
o the green eyes that would not meet his. ‘I’m going. I’ve decided that I don’t want to do business with you. You’re rude,’ he said and then saw that, just a little, she smiled. ‘You’re not very nice.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Now she met his eyes and, with contact made, he changed his mind; maybe they could work together after all.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Matteo said. ‘I’ll settle for polite.’

  Abby gave him an assessing look. She liked it that he had said he’d be hands off—that had been one of the main issues with their previous sponsor; he had demanded so much of Pedro’s time. And she liked, too, that Matteo had addressed up front the issue—she’d been rude.

  ‘I can manage polite,’ she said.

  ‘Good.’ He drained the last of his cola. ‘I do need to get something to eat.’

  She said something then but it was drowned out by the roar of a car and he couldn’t make out the words.

  He just watched her mouth.

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ Matteo said and she had to watch his mouth now. ‘Dinner?’ he suggested. Finally there was a lull in the noise and he said it again. ‘Dinner?’

  ‘Here?’ Abby checked and Matteo looked around. The race wasn’t till next week and so the corporate caterers weren’t here yet.

  ‘Well, I’d prefer a nice lazy meal back at my eight-star hotel but if you insist on here, then I guess it will have to do. Do they have hot dogs in Dubai?’

  Abby nodded to a van. ‘Not hot dogs exactly...’ She took a breath; they were about to talk big business and a takeaway back in the shed really wouldn’t cut it. ‘When you say your hotel...’ She saw him frown, but no, she would make very sure where they would be eating before she agreed to go back to his hotel. ‘You do mean the restaurant?’

  ‘What the hell did you think I meant?’ Matteo grinned. ‘Of course I meant the restaurant. Don’t believe everything you read about me, Abby—I’m fast but not that fast.’

  She laughed.

  Matteo had no idea what a rare sound that was.

  ‘Do you want to meet there?’ he suggested, assuming she had a car.

  ‘Sure,’ she agreed, and he told her the name of the hotel he was staying at. ‘I’ll just get changed,’ she said, but aware of all she had in her locker she was factoring in a dash back to her own hotel too.

  ‘Please...’ He stopped abruptly. Matteo had been about to say, ‘Please don’t.’ She looked amazing in the Boucher green leather after all, but there was something that stopped him and he quickly changed his plea. ‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you there on the hour.’

  Abby felt her cheeks go a little pink again.

  ‘Is it okay if I have a look around before I head off?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  One of the mechanics who was peeling a pear offered Matteo half and, when he took it, offered to show him around. It was actually fascinating. There was a whole wall of tyres that would see them through just one race and the science of it all was something Matteo had never considered.

  Abby took her time to get ready. Given Matteo had said that they were meeting on the hour there really was no time to go back to her hotel and change. Also, she was incredibly nervous. Oh, she had sat through her share of dinners and lunches, of course, just not with someone as gorgeous as he, and not with someone who made her smile.

  Yes, she knew that she came across as brittle at times, but she had been particularly awful to him.

  She forgave herself then.

  After all, she knew why.

  So, what to wear to dinner at an eight-star hotel with a stunning man when you have neither the time nor inclination for a dress but all you have in your locker is a pair of ill-fitting jeans, a massive black T-shirt and flat sandals?

  She suppressed a smile because she had known exactly what Matteo had been about to say regarding her leather suit. That was why her cheeks had gone pink. It had felt a little like flirting and Abby wasn’t in the least good at that.

  * * *

  She put on some dark glasses and ran a comb through her hair. As she left the locker room she took out her phone to call for a taxi and then startled when she saw that Matteo was still there.

  ‘Sorry, I thought you’d have your own car. Why didn’t you say?’ he asked.

  ‘I just...’ Abby shrugged.

  ‘Come on,’ he said and put on his own dark glasses before heading back out in the sun.

  What the hell happened there? he thought as they walked to his car. It was as if Abby had done everything possible to look as unattractive as she could. The jeans were massive and as for the T-shirt!

  Maybe hot dogs would be a better idea after all.

  He glanced down and he didn’t think he’d seen an unpainted female toenail before.

  Half an hour spent getting ready, for that!

  ‘Will they mind jeans at the hotel?’ Abby checked as he drove them there.

  ‘Not the way you wear them.’ Matteo turned and smiled. ‘You look great.’

  Again, she laughed.

  ‘You are such...’ She just laughed again. ‘I wasn’t expecting to go out for dinner, okay? I do know I’m badly dressed.’

  ‘For who?’ Matteo shrugged.

  He was relaxing to her.

  Oh, she was on edge, Abby knew, yet somehow Matteo was relaxing to her.

  ‘What happened to your eye?’ she asked.

  ‘I came off a horse,’ he said. ‘That’s how I dislocated my shoulder. I’m supposed to be wearing a shoulder strap.’

  ‘So, why aren’t you?’

  ‘I lost it.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He was so incredibly handsome and she felt incredibly drab.

  ‘I could stop by my hotel and get changed,’ Abby offered, still a little worried that she was way underdressed.

  ‘No need.’

  It was, however, Matteo thought, a seriously nice restaurant they were heading to. Seriously, seriously nice but thankfully he’d been here with the sheikh and had lobbed enough tips these past days that he knew they’d give him a welcome smile as they walked in.

  But he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

  ‘We could go to Majlis Al Bahar...’ Matteo glanced over and he saw her nervous swallow. ‘I’m not getting romantic,’ he reassured, because it was possibly the most romantic restaurant on earth. ‘It’s just that the dress code is more casual and,’ he added, ‘I kind of want to try it.’

  ‘No,’ Abby said. ‘The hotel’s fine.

  So his hotel it was.

  ‘Table for two,’ Matteo told the maître d’ and such was his confidence that, of course, no one turned a hair and they were shown to their seats.

  Her glasses off, those disgusting jeans tucked away, she really was beautiful, Matteo thought. Her eyes were an intense green and thickly lashed and she was the first woman he had ever sat in a restaurant with who wore not a trace of make-up.

  He knew what she’d look like in the morning, Matteo thought. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t here for that and so he looked from Abby and out to the view of the Arabian Gulf. ‘I love it here,’ he admitted. ‘I didn’t expect to, then again I had no real idea what to expect.’

  ‘I haven’t seen much of it,’ Abby said. ‘We only got here yesterday...’

  Matteo was astute enough to frown. ‘So how is Pedro doing with the heat?’

  She liked that he understood that it mattered.

  ‘A few days more to acclimatise would have been nice,’ Abby admitted.

  ‘Is Pedro as temperamental as the press make out?’ Matteo asked.

  ‘More so.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t blame him though. He’s an amazing talent.’

  ‘You’ve given him a very early break,’ Matteo said, remembering that Pedro had just turned twenty-one and had been nineteen when Abby had taken him on. ‘Shouldn’t he still be doing the dinky tracks in a go-kart?’

  Abby smiled but it was a guarded one. ‘He’s going to be amazing—he
already is.’

  He saw her tight smile and read it.

  Someone with a far bigger cash pot would snap him up very soon.

  ‘Treat him like a star, then,’ Matteo said. ‘Make him never want to leave.’ He saw the set of her lips. ‘What’s his latest gripe?’ he asked and her mouth relaxed into a soft laugh at his perception.

  ‘Well, some of the other drivers have suites with their own gym and lap pool.’ She looked at Matteo, who said nothing. ‘These guys are incredibly fit. You have to be to race at that speed. I know how taxing it is just doing a few gentle laps.’

  ‘It didn’t look particularly gentle to me,’ Matteo said. ‘So, what’s it like?’ he asked. ‘Driving one?’

  And she knew the line the guys used but that would really tip her into flirting with him.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ she said, instead of saying that it was better than sex.

  It had to be.

  Her one experience had been hell after all.

  No, she would not be flirting.

  ‘Pedro doesn’t like using the hotel pool and gym,’ Abby said. ‘And I get that, I do, but...’ She loathed talking about money, but that was what they were here to do. ‘Our budget’s tight.’

  ‘And Pedro doesn’t want to hear that?’

  ‘He’s been really good,’ Abby said. ‘They all have been. It’s hard watching the others swan off to fancy restaurants when we’re heading for the burger bar. We all want better things and know that we have to work for it. It’s just hard juggling egos. And also I know that Pedro’s right—he’d do better with more resources and I’d do better if I had more time to focus on the car and the opposition.’

  ‘Instead of playing bookkeeper?’ Matteo asked and she gave a low laugh.

  ‘And PA, and travel agent...’

  ‘I get it.’

  How could he? ‘How come you want to invest?’ she asked him.

  ‘Well, I think you’re going places,’ Matteo said. ‘And I want to be securely on board when you do. I have a thing for outside chances.’ He looked at the wine menu. ‘What are we drinking?’ Matteo asked.

  ‘Water for me...’

  ‘You’re a cheap date.’

  ‘This isn’t a date, Matteo,’ she said.

  ‘Actually, no, it isn’t.’ He put down the menu and was serious. He was interested in sponsoring the team. Seriously so. Matteo was a gambler by nature but this was a huge one. He wasn’t thinking about the necklace or her father now. Matteo’s head was in the game and if he was going to be a sponsor, then there had to be rules. ‘My relationships run into hours rather than days. Believe me, you don’t want to know...’