sighed. ‘Pedro’s convinced that he’s peaked too soon, though he seems a bit calmer now.’
‘Yes, I saw the press conference,’ Matteo said. ‘He looked like he was about to throw up. What have you been doing?’
‘I’ve been working on the car.’ The elevator stopped at her floor. ‘Do you want to get dinner?’ Abby suggested.
‘I’m just going to get room service,’ Matteo said. ‘Do you want to come up...?’ He stopped. ‘Sorry, that was thoughtless of me.’ It had just seemed a natural solution—he was tired and hungry and he guessed, given the late hour, that Abby felt the same. He just didn’t want the bother of going down to the restaurant.
He thought she’d be offended but Abby just smiled at his discomfort.
‘Matteo, it’s fine,’ she said. ‘Room service sounds great. I’m starving.’
It was actually the nicest thing that he could have said to her, Abby thought—part of the difficulty of revealing such sensitive secrets was the aftermath.
She had been worried that he might look at her differently or think of her in different ways, but clearly it wasn’t at the top of his mind and that suited Abby.
They went straight up to his floor and to his suite and everything was better in Matteo’s world. Abby had thought she’d ordered the best suite for Pedro but clearly there were others tucked away for the likes of the Di Siones.
It was huge, more like a stately home than a hotel suite. The shutters were open to a stunning view of Milan at night but Matteo went straight over and closed them. ‘I’m sick of views,’ he said.
Matteo’s cases had already been brought up and the butler was putting his stuff away but stopped what he was doing and asked if he could get Matteo a drink.
‘Please.’ Matteo nodded.
Unlike the bar fridge in Abby’s room, here there was a crystal decanter, presumably filled with Matteo’s preferred cognac, but Abby shook her head when offered one. ‘I’d love a cola.’
‘And me,’ Matteo said, and before too long they had been served their drinks and were alone, Abby with a lovely iced cola, Matteo with both of his favourite brews. He drained the cola and then took the cognac more slowly as he asked about the practice run.
‘I have to say I’m not expecting a repeat of Dubai.’
‘Pedro knew that track,’ Matteo said and Abby gave a relieved nod, glad that he understood.
‘I am worried though. Now that we’ve had a win there’s so much expectation...’
‘Not from me,’ Matteo said. ‘I just called Pedro before and said he’s got the jet for a week whatever happens on Sunday. I suggested that he tell Bernadette that after the race, wherever he places.’
Matteo took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes.
‘You look tired,’ Abby commented.
‘I am. It’s been one hell of a week.’ Matteo yawned. ‘Family stuff.’
‘As well as getting arrested. How was lockup?’
‘Same old.’ Matteo shrugged.
He didn’t want to think about that night. Not the arrest, but the fight that he’d been privy to as he’d gone to the restroom.
Would he have turned away, if Abby hadn’t told him what had happened to her?
No.
He might have called management or...
Matteo didn’t know. All he did know was that he had seen red and pulled an angry man off his partner and told him to take his temper out on someone who stood a chance.
The bastard had taken him up on the offer.
Still it wasn’t just the other night and his family that were on Matteo’s mind though—even with an arrest and many nights out it had been a very long month.
A very tame month.
On many occasions he had wanted to pick up the phone and call Abby or step on a plane. He was walking a very fine line because sex was the easy part for Matteo.
Business he had taken care of through his lawyer and the contract was watertight.
It was the feelings he didn’t know how to handle. It was Abby he couldn’t get off his mind, Abby who he wanted to spend time with. Matteo knew his own reputation though, and he didn’t want to give mixed messages—such as how much he’d missed her, how she stayed on his mind.
Instead he stood up and flicked through the restaurant menu but looked up when Abby, who was wandering around the suite, caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and let out a little yelp—her face was streaked in oil.
‘I think I should go have a bath and get changed before dinner,’ Abby said.
‘Have a bath here...’ Matteo said and then grimaced. God, every time he said something it came out wrong. ‘I meant...’
‘I know,’ Abby said. ‘And I know, given all I’ve told you, that being in your hotel room should be awkward, but honestly, Matteo—’ she gave a tight shrug, unsure just how to voice it ‘—it isn’t.’
She just didn’t feel nervous around him. It was during times apart that she did.
‘Matteo?’ Abby checked because he really was behaving oddly. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘No,’ he admitted and came over to her. ‘This is how I wanted to say hello.’ He put his arms around her and it was the nicest place to be and he kissed her, a slow gentle kiss, the type that chased the day away. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You could have called.’
‘I thought you said that you wanted a hands-off sponsor.’
He was very hands on now—they were resting on her waist and she could feel the weight of them and the heat of his palms.
‘You don’t just have to call about the team.’
‘I know that,’ Matteo said, ‘but then I’m not really big on the “how was your day” type of phone call.’ He was as honest as he could be about something he didn’t really understand, because he’d never really felt the need to be in touch with another, for no reason other than to be in touch. ‘And then if I call one week and then don’t the next...’ He gave a tense shrug. ‘I don’t do all that.’
And therein was the difference, Abby thought. Matteo was struggling to commit to a call a week! Their heads were in completely different spaces. The way Abby felt, a call an hour would barely do.
‘You’ve got oil on your face now,’ Abby said and they peeled apart enough to see the mess she had made of his shirt.
‘Have a bath,’ he said, because hell, he wasn’t letting that bastard change how he spoke to her or the
