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CHAPTER FIVE

HUNTER SAW THEM.

He got out of his car and looked over and saw the woman he had left lying bruised and bleeding on a marble bathroom floor, and then pissed all over, now happy and free.

‘Whoa!’ The reporters shouted in several languages as Hunter kicked his car and threw his helmet down to the ground and then stormed off.

Abby and Matteo didn’t see a thing.

They were too busy laughing as Kedah informed them that Matteo was now the owner of an extremely temperamental horse!

‘Her name is Abby,’ Matteo said but she deliberately missed the inference.

‘I’m not temperamental.’

Or maybe she was, because Abby, who didn’t cry, almost did when she watched as Pedro stood in first place on the podium.

‘I almost want a glass of champagne,’ Abby admitted as Pedro sprayed the crowd with the same.

The Carter team was in second place and Evan grinned and waved and took the dousing.

Hunter attempted to do the same.

It was a good day.

A brilliant day.

And the world was waiting for the press conference.

Oh, they were an arrogant lot, Matteo thought as the drivers came in and took their seats.

Pedro sat there grinning; so, too, did Evan. Even Hunter had recovered from his hissy fit and that assured smile was back on his face.

‘I have to congratulate Pedro...’ They were the first words out of Hunter’s mouth.

He was charming, said a reporter standing to the side of Matteo and Abby.

‘Narcissists generally are,’ Matteo drawled.

He didn’t like him.

‘I lost my focus for a second,’ Hunter conceded, ‘and Pedro took his chance.’

Hunter made it sound like he had lost rather than that they had won and Matteo felt Abby tense beside him.

‘Don’t worry about him,’ Matteo said, without looking over to her. ‘You know you won.’ He then listened as a reporter asked Hunter a question.

‘What about your reaction after the race? You seemed pretty angry.’

‘Ha.’ Hunter shrugged and then spread his hands, holding his palm to the sky. ‘I guess I’m not used to it...’ And then he put down his hands and looked straight over to Matteo as he spoke on. ‘I tend to get there first.’

Matteo didn’t know that he had hackles till then, yet he felt them rise and he watched as Hunter’s gaze moved to the woman who stood beside him.

‘That was for me...’ Abby said and Matteo frowned because her voice was slurred.

His newly discovered hackles were still up and Matteo put an arm around Abby.

‘It’s okay.’ He didn’t know what was going on but he could feel Abby’s distress and he tried to reassure her.

But all she could hear was Wah-wah-wah...

The rest of what Matteo said she lost.

There was a roaring in Abby’s ears and her chest felt closed and she could feel that her lips were tingling.

‘I can’t breathe...’ she gasped.

‘Abby...’ Matteo said, but then she lost track of his deep smoky voice again and she made one last desperate plea.

‘Don’t let Hunter see me like this.’

Matteo got her out of the press conference and to a horrid plastic seat, where he sat her down and told her to cup her hands over her face. ‘You’re having a panic attack.’

He was just calm.

On the outside.

Matteo never let anyone glimpse his fear.

He went over to a guy who was walking past and tipped the man’s burger into his hand and returned to Abby with the paper bag. ‘Breathe into this...’ Matteo said and he just kept on talking in his lovely deep voice and telling her she would soon be okay. ‘It will pass soon,’ he assured. ‘My sister Natalia gets them and they pass. I promise.’

He just sat with her the entire way through it. Abby was sweating and white and her eyes were wide open and looking into his as she breathed in and out of the paper bag and then moved it aside.

‘He lost,’ Abby said and, with a sinking feeling, Matteo knew, he just knew, that they weren’t talking about Hunter losing the race today.

Matteo felt sick; he actually did but he just looked back at her.

‘He lost a race...’ Abby said. She could not do it in full sentences. ‘I was ending it. We’d only gone out a few times. We’d never...’

And he didn’t know what to say.

‘He got so angry.’

Matteo just didn’t know what to say.

‘I told my father. He said not to report it.’ She shook her head. ‘You see, I was drunk...’

And now Matteo did know what to say.

It was his first rule.

‘Then he should have seen you safely home.’

‘I was in his hotel room.’

No, he would not let her go there.

‘Then he should have checked into another or put you to bed and slept in the chair,’ Matteo said. ‘There’s no excuse for what he did.’

‘It was so violent.’ Abby relived it just for a second and she watched Matteo blink, not once but three times, and then he responded.

‘He should have treated you like glass,’ Matteo said.

‘It was my first time...’

‘Crystal glass, then,’ Matteo amended. ‘And that was not your first time—that’s not sex.’

‘It’s the only sex I know.’

And then her panic came back because they were coming out of the press conference. ‘He can’t see me like this.’

Yet she couldn’t stand.

‘What if we look like we were having an intimate moment—is that okay?’ Matteo gently checked and she nodded.

He just wrapped her in his arms and she saw the yellow leather of Hunter walking past and she heard the increasing thud, thud, thud of Matteo’s heart and his breathing firing into rapid. Abby felt the tension in him and she knew that Matteo wanted to drop her and run and do what her father should have all those years ago.

For her sake he didn’t.

But then, at the last moment, when he recalled Hunter’s “I tend to get there first” line, Abby felt the rip of tension in him.

‘Please don’t,’ Abby begged when she felt him move to run but then his arms came tighter around her.

‘I won’t.’

He wanted to though.

Matteo now could barely breathe.

Abby could feel him struggle to contain himself. Matteo even with a hangover in fierce heat did not break a sweat, yet he was swimming in adrenaline and his shirt was drenched and his breathing was coming fast and shallow.

‘I might need to borrow that paper bag...’ Matteo said.

Still he could make her smile.

And she waited for the questions to start but when her breathing was normal and she peered out from his chest, the only thing Matteo asked was if she wanted some water.

‘Please.’

He went off to a vending machine and got her a drink and Abby drank it down thirstily, and Matteo was right; the panic had passed.

‘Better?’ Matteo asked.

‘Much,’ Abby said, though she was now incredibly embarrassed at what she had told him.

‘So, where do you want to go now?’ Matteo asked.

‘Go?’ It was the last thing she’d expected him to ask her but Matteo squatted down in front of her and looked right at her when, embarrassed by her revelations, she could barely now look at him.

‘We’re still celebrating your win.’ Matteo was insistent. He looked briefly over to the team, who were all on their phones and buoyantly posing for the cameras and Kedah was with them. ‘I’m guessing that you don’t want to go out with that lot...’

‘No.’

‘But you won,’ Matteo said. ‘And you have every day since that bastard did what he did, and do you know what? You deserve to celebrate.’

‘I do.’

‘So, go and congratulate Pedro. Tell him it’s covered tonight, whatever he wants.’

‘Er, I don’t know if you know what you’re agreeing to.’

‘You’re talking to me.’ Matteo smiled. ‘I know what a wild night is. Seriously, with the bet I put on I’m even more loaded than usual. I’ll get Kedah to go along with them. He runs wild but he’s a good sort. He’ll keep an eye.’

Matteo didn’t, Abby thought, look at her like she had two heads; he just chatted away as if she hadn’t just told him her darkest shame. ‘You’re sure?’ she checked.

‘Of course,’ Matteo said. ‘Kedah will cover it and then I’ll see him right.’

He went to the vending machine again and bought a cola for himself and another water for her, and then Abby did what she properly wanted to do but hadn’t had a chance to until now!

‘Pedro!’ She went over and gave him a hug.

‘How good was that?’ Pedro grinned. ‘Hunter’s spewing.’

‘I know that he is. You were amazing, Pedro. I couldn’t believe it when you took him. I still don’t know how you did that.’

‘I’ll tell you in detail over dinner tonight,’ Pedro said.

‘Actually, I can’t make dinner. I’m going to go out and chat up our sponsor,’ Abby said. She saw a little flare of relief in her crew that she wasn’t coming out with him, though they did their best to hide it.

‘Oh, come on, Abby,’ Pedro insisted but she shook her head.

Yes, they all got on, but it was a very male world and she saw the tiny smiles as they realised that they wouldn’t have to behave as they always did around her.

And that thought brought a lump to her throat.

But these were nice tears that she was holding back.

They all did behave around her; she already knew that but she fully realised it then.

Abby’s team really were amazing.

‘Go and have the best night,’ Abby told them. ‘It’s all covered, whatever you want. Kedah will pick up the tab and Matteo will cover it.’

Pedro frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes! Now go and have a brilliant night!’ Abby said. ‘God knows you deserve it but,’ she warned, ‘remember that we’ve got an official breakfast tomorrow.’

‘Tell Matteo,’ Pedro said, ‘that I’ll take him out in the car next time.’

‘I shall.’ She gave Pedro another hug and then she turned and went back to Matteo.

‘Okay, where are we off to?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I do.’ Matteo had just decided. ‘First, though, we’ll swing by my hotel and I’ll get changed.’

‘I need to get changed too.’

He looked down at her oily bottle-green overalls. ‘Absolutely, you do!’

* * *

‘Buy a dress here...’ Matteo suggested as they pulled up at his hotel. ‘There are plenty of boutiques for you to choose from.’

‘No, I bought a dress ages ago and I promised that if we ever got on the podium...’ Abby shook her head. ‘I just never expected it to be tonight.’

She simply couldn’t believe it.

Podium would have been brilliant—it would have shown that they were serious contenders—but to have come first was beyond her wildest dreams!

For others it was a nightmare—the bookies were panicking, the other teams were regrouping. Tonight, only the Boucher team was floating on cloud nine.

As they got out of his car Matteo was about to ask if she wanted to come up and have a drink while he changed but then he decided against it. Now her comment that first day, about their meeting being held in the restaurant rather than his hotel room, made sense.

God, he could kick himself now for the other night but instead he saw her to a seat and gave her a smile.

‘I shan’t be long.’

Abby sat in the lovely foyer as he went and changed and as she did she saw that she had about fifty missed calls, some from her father, and loads of texts offering congratulations. Where had they all been prior to this victory? Abby thought.

She turned her phone off and then she looked up as a man who had been there for her came out of the elevator. He was wearing black pants and a white shirt and dark tie but he was carrying the jacket to his suit, and he’d shaved.

For her.

And she remembered their kiss and her response and there were just too many feelings for Abby to explore right now, and so she chose to just do her best to enjoy the night.

Matteo had ditched his car and they were driven to her hotel and, instead of sitting in the car while she changed, he came into the foyer.

‘My turn to wait,’ he said.

Matteo sat down as she headed off to the elevators but he watched as Abby was called back by the concierge and signed for something and then, a few minutes later, she was handed a parcel and took the elevator up.

Abby stepped into her room.

She was dizzy both from elation at winning and her revelations about Hunter but it was the kiss that had taken place between her and Matteo that had her slightly breathless with recall.

Being kissed by Matteo had been amazing, showing her a side to herself she hadn’t known existed.

Did it even matter, now that she’d told him the truth? That there had been no one before or after Hunter.

She thought about what he said, how Hunter didn’t count, and she liked that. Even if it made her a twenty-seven-year-old virgin.

She took the dress out of her wardrobe and, given today’s events, decided that the dress was too much.

Much too much.

It was seductive, provocative and sexy and it was everything Abby had hoped that she might one day be able to be.

Not yet though.

She was scared of her own sexuality, scared that if she dressed up tonight, then somehow Matteo might think she was leading him on.

To nowhere.

Oh, she was messed up, Abby knew.

She opened the package that she had signed for and her teeth ground together as a formal invitation from her father, inviting her to his fundraiser, fell out. It was written on a thick cream card but there was also attached to it a letter, or rather a note.

Abby.

As discussed.

No signature, no kisses, no Love from Dad. Just the reminder that if she wanted money to support her team, then it came with conditions attached.

She didn’t need the money so badly now but her decision not to go was starting to waver. Seeing Matteo and Allegra together, trying to do the right thing by their grandfather, had served as a very poignant reminder as to how far Abby’s own family had fallen apart, particularly since her mother had died.

Abby peeled back the paper to reveal a walnut box and she undid the tiny clasp and the lid sprung open. Her legs folded beneath her and she sat on the bed staring at her mum’s necklace...

With the silver metal, white diamonds and the green of the emeralds, it was, like her mother had been, beautiful. And, Abby thought, holding it up so it caught the late-afternoon sun, it was possibly the most perfect accessory for her dress.

It was like a sign—not that she should attend her father’s function; that decision she would make later—it just felt as if her mother had stopped by to tell her well done.

‘Oh, Mum.’

She thought of Anette, her mother, and how her marriage had been such an unhappy one.

Her father was a cruel, egotistical man and her mother, with all her family and support in France, just hadn’t found it within herself to leave. Anette had known that Hugo would have made her life hell if she did. So she had settled for a quieter version of hell—a marriage for the sake of the children.

Abby had loved her mother so very much.

She still did.

Had she been alive, Abby knew that what had happened with Hunter would have been handled differently. Oh, Anette had been weak where her father was concerned but not when it came to her girls.

Wear the dress, Abby.

She could almost hear her mother’s voice.

Be who you are, not who others dictate that you be.

Abby could hear her mother’s voice now.

She had been fifteen when her mother had died but now she remembered a long conversation they had had and her mother’s advice.

It hadn’t made sense; even in her darkest days, Abby hadn’t been able to unravel her mother’s words. Abby had tried to be herself and speak her mind and look where that had got her.

At twenty-seven those words made far better sense now.

Abby showered and then pinned up her hair and put on her make-up and with nervous hands pulled on some panties that were a touch too sensible for such an amazing dress but which were all that she had.

And then she slipped on the dress and the feel of cool silk on her skin had her face on fire. It was backless and so there was no bra that would work with it. She could see her nipples.

It wasn’t slutty; it really was incredibly beautiful.

She wore the flat jewelled sandals that she had worn to Allegra’s gala and they worked better with the dress than heels.

It didn’t need heels; what it needed, Abby knew, taking the necklace from the box, was this.

The necklace hung as if it had been designed solely for this night.

It drew the attention from thick nipples and it made her eyes a deeper green. Abby was almost scared of her own reflection because she looked sexy and wanton and she did not want to tease the tiger.

Yet she trusted Matteo not to bite.

It was the most contrary feeling in the world, given all she had been through, and with only instinct to guide her, Abby listened to her own voice now.

Both she and the dress would celebrate tonight.

* * *

Matteo waited.

Oh, he waited for way more than half an hour this time.

He wondered if Abby was having trouble getting into a denim dress and Doc Martens but just as he smiled at that thought the elevators opened and a shining, shy beauty stepped out.

She was in a dress that was a bruised shade of silver, just one polish away from gleaming, and around her throat was the reason Matteo had first made contact.

Not now.

Oh, he watched her walk towards him—too nervous and shy to be sexy. She was utterly gorgeous—and how the hell did he tell her the truth?

Never had he been more grateful for a goldfish attention span when it suited him. Matteo just dismissed the Lost Mistresses from his mind and dealt with now.

‘You look...’ What? Often Matteo stopped himself from saying what he wanted to with Abby; he didn’t tonight. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

And he felt the most responsible that he ever had towards another.

This was her night.

* * *

It wasn’t a restaurant like any other that Abby had ever been to.

White, candlelit tables were set on a private beach. It was an outdoor restaurant that combined fine dining with a sunset that fired as pink as her cheeks as they were shown to their seats.

‘Champagne?’ Matteo asked, and it was as if they were starting again.

Which they were.

He knew the truth now and, more importantly, Abby felt safe to let down her guard with him. She knew, Abby just knew, that she could strip naked and dance like a banshee and still he would see her safely home.

‘That would be lovely.’

The champagne was poured and the first thing he did was raise a glass.

‘To the Boucher team. Well done, you!’

They ate delectable seafood and their fingers met in the fragrant bowls and they flirted a little but more than that they talked and they celebrated her win.

‘Pedro’s happy,’ Matteo said.

‘For now.’ Abby nodded. ‘I’ve been watching him for years, since he was about sixteen. I know he’s good and that he’s thrilled with the win but he’s not going to hang around for long and I can’t blame him for that.’

‘Is that why it has to be this year that you win the Henley Cup?’

That being Hunter.

Abby hesitated and then nodded.

‘He retires this year. I want my revenge,’ she admitted. ‘I know it’s supposed to be healthier to forgive...’

Matteo snorted, which told her what he thought of that!

‘You’re going to do it,’ he said. ‘But if not this year, there’s still next. Don’t make your life about him.’

‘I know.’

‘Concentrate on keeping Pedro sweet,’ Matteo said. ‘Spoil him. You’ve got winnings now.’

‘He placed fifth here last year,’ Abby said. ‘It was our first race and he should have been way back but, like today, something happened. He’s a genius and now everyone really knows it.’ She told Matteo something. ‘The next night, after he placed fifth, he took me out for dinner. He was just twenty then and I’m his manager and yet he got the bill and I knew that I was being served notice. He told me that he’d already been approached by the Lachance team. We came to a deal and I asked for this year, for the Henley Cup.’

‘Things are different now,’ Matteo said. ‘He’s part of a winning team and it is a team—a progressive one. The Lachance mob are sticking to the same old formulas. Remind him of that.’

‘I shall,’ Abby agreed. ‘Pedro wants to take you for a spin when we get to Milan.’

‘No, thank you,’ Matteo said, and Abby raised her eyes in surprise. She had thought, given his daredevil nature, that he would jump at the chance, but he’d shaken his head at the offer.

‘Thanks for today.’ Abby addressed what she had to, glad that it was getting darker and so he hopefully couldn’t see that her face was on fire.

‘For what?’

‘I’ve never had a panic attack before, not a full-blown one. I thought I was going to die.’

‘I told you that you wouldn’t.’

‘You said that your sister got them?’

Matteo nodded but said no more.

‘I didn’t expect to react like that. I’ve seen him around before, of course.’

Matteo didn’t like that and he frowned.

‘We’re on tour at the same time,’ Abby pointed out. ‘I always make sure that we’re in separate hotels. I only really see him trackside and usually I’m fine. Well, not fine exactly but I’ve never had that happen to me.’

‘He was angry today,’ Matteo said. ‘Even if he was trying to hide it.’

‘Yes.’

‘And I would expect that brought some stuff up for you.’

‘I guess,’ Abby said. ‘I hate how he’s messed me up.’

‘Messed up?’ Matteo checked. ‘Hardly! Your team just won—you’re coming into your own.’

‘You know what I mean.’ She had said way more than she had wanted to today but she had said it—there had been no one since Hunter.

‘It’s just a matter of time,’ Matteo said.

‘It’s been nine years!’

He actually grinned. ‘How the hell do you sleep?’ he asked. ‘I need a drink or sex, preferably both.’ He thought for a moment. ‘You’re not frigid. Had there not been one hundred thousand people watching on, I could have had you this afternoon.’

‘Exceptional circumstances!’ Abby said.

He just spoke about it in such a matter-of-fact way that it made the world a bit nicer but she shook her head at the impossibility. ‘He seriously messed with my head.’

‘We’re all messed up, Abby.’

‘You’re not.’

‘Of course I am. My whole family are.’

‘Because your parents died?’ Abby asked.

‘Because of how they lived.’

It was Abby who didn’t know what to say now.

Matteo never opened up to anyone. He could talk for hours and still reveal little about himself but with all she had told him today, well, it seemed wrong to hold back. He looked at her, so stunning on the outside and so churned up within, and it felt unfair to let her think that the polished, carefree man who sat before her didn’t have dark memories of his own.

‘Do you know why I said no to Pedro taking me for a spin?’

She shook her head.

‘Because the thought of having someone drive me around at high speed makes me ill.’

‘But riding a thoroughbred racehorse doesn’t?’ Abby frowned.

‘When I was five my father woke me up in the middle of the night. Now, when I look back, he was high on cocaine but I didn’t know about drugs then. I just knew there were times we avoided him and that this was one of those times. He’d won a car.’ Matteo sat there for a moment and remembered his bewilderment at being woken up. ‘We had loads of cars, but no, he had to show me this one. He took me into the garage and I remember that the car was silver. He told me how fast it went and just all this stuff and then he told me to climb in. I did...’ He looked at Abby, and Matteo was probably more confused in hindsight than he had been at the time. ‘Do you know, he didn’t even check if I was belted in? He just revved that engine and took off.’

‘To where?’ Abby asked.

‘Everywhere,’ Matteo said. ‘It was the longest night of my life, changing lanes, swerving, all the lights blurring. I wet myself,’ Matteo admitted. ‘He just kept going faster. He was laughing and shouting. I swear I knew we were going to die that night but somehow we made it home. A few weeks later there was a huge fight and my father got loaded. My mother got in the car, apparently to sort things out once and for all. They say the car skidded out of control but I always wonder...’

‘If she was as scared as you had been?’

‘Yep,’ Matteo said. ‘She’d got clean by then, well, apart from spending...’ He saw her slight frown. ‘Believe me, I almost wish she hadn’t though. I can’t stand the thought that she might have been as sober and as scared as I was that night.’

‘What do your brothers and sisters say?’

‘There are some things that you just don’t discuss. We talk about other things, but the past is there—we all know it. I’m sure they have their own memories and issues. I’ve never told anyone about that night.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘So, no—tell Pedro thanks but no thanks. I shan’t be taking him up on his offer.’

He tipped the last of the champagne into her glass.

‘Enough of the sad stuff,’ he said. ‘We’re supposed to be celebrating.’

They danced on the beach, a lovely long, slow dance, and Abby was celebrating not just the win, nor that she was out in her sexy silver dress and necklace, drinking champagne and relaxed, but turned on in his arms. But that this emotionally elusive man had told her something about himself.

Something that not even his family knew.

It was, without doubt, for Abby, the perfect end to the perfect day.

Matteo thought it less than perfect. Not the day, nor the night—more what he had found out. What had happened to Abby was criminal, not just the event but the effect that it had had on her.

For the first time that he could remember he wanted to step up, but that would mean offering more than he had sworn to ever do.

He remembered their kiss and could feel the attraction but the cruellest thing in the world would be to let her think he was capable of even a short-term relationship. And so, when the music ended Matteo did as promised.

He took her safely home.

The Billionaires Collection

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