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.