LITMIR.BIZ

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got heavy. Matteo stepped in and the guy took his mood out on him. Hey, Abby...’ Pedro said to his very distracted manager, who was blowing out a guilty breath at her own presumption. ‘I wanted to ask you something—can Bernadette come to Milan?’

      Abby guessed Matteo had suggested that Pedro ask her.

      Pedro had wanted to bring Bernadette last time but things had been so incredibly tight that there had been no room for wives and girlfriends.

      Things were different now.

      ‘Sure.’ Abby nodded.

      She wanted Pedro to linger, to tell her all about his day, or rather anything else Matteo had even loosely mentioned, but he was soon heading off to show Bernadette his new clothes and car and to tell her the news. Abby spent the rest of the night wondering if Matteo would call.

      He didn’t.

      And so, by the time the team were due to fly to Milan, Abby was in a state of high anticipation at seeing him.

      She felt a bit like a schoolmistress at an all-male school as they boarded the Di Sione jet. Everyone was in high spirits, everyone except Abby, because there was no sign of Matteo.

      Abby sat in a plush leather seat and rolled her eyes as Pedro looked around the jet.

      ‘Who gets the suite?’

      ‘You do!’ The attendant smiled.

      It was then, Abby knew, Matteo wasn’t joining them.

      * * *

      Milan she glimpsed from the inside of a luxurious coach that took them from the airport to the hotel.

      Abby knew the hotel the Lachance team stayed at and she had chosen another one, as she always did, which gave her one less thing to worry about.

      Everyone was checked in but Abby lingered till they had all headed off to their rooms and then she asked the receptionist if there were any messages for her.

      There weren’t.

      ‘Is Matteo Di Sione here yet?’ Abby made herself ask.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Do you know when he’s arriving?’

      ‘We can’t give out that sort of information.’

      ‘I’m a colleague,’ Abby attempted but she was no match for the tight security around the Di Sione name. ‘A close colleague.’

      ‘Then ask him.’ The receptionist’s smile did not waver. ‘Is there anything else that I can help you with?’

      It was a busy week with little waking time to dwell on Matteo and when and if he would arrive.

      Despite their amazing win, Abby did know it was unlikely to be replicated.

      Pedro had raced the Dubai course but never Milan and, though they went over and over it and watched endless recordings of previous races, she could feel Pedro’s tension.

      ‘I shouldn’t have brought Bernadette,’ he admitted to Abby before he put on his helmet for the practice run. ‘She’s going to see me place last.’

      ‘Don’t think about that,’ Abby said.

      ‘I just got a text from Matteo, wishing me luck...’

      It was more than she’d had.

      ‘I’ve a feeling I shan’t be getting his jet for a week.’

      ‘Listen,’ Abby said to Pedro. ‘You won last month. Nothing can take that away.’

      ‘Yeah, but I’ve got a whole lot more to prove now. Hunter reckons it was a fluke—he was talking in Reception loud enough for me to hear.’

      Abby took a steadying breath. Apparently there had been a problem with the Lachance team’s hotel security and yesterday they had moved to the one Abby’s team were staying at.

      Still, her own nervousness as to that wasn’t the issue now.

      ‘Don’t listen to anything Hunter says.’ Abby spoke firmly. ‘Don’t even look at him. Just give him the finger in your head any time you pass him. Maybe not today, but any time in your career that you pass him, then that’s what you’ll do.’

      And so, too, would she.

      The practice run didn’t go particularly well and Abby spent ages trying to soothe Pedro, who was seriously rattled, but finally at six he headed back to the hotel for an early dinner and then bed. Abby worked till late making modifications to the car.

      By the time she got back to the hotel Abby was hungry, tired and certainly not looking the way she would want Matteo to see her, but there he was checking in at Reception.

      Abby kept walking.

      A month of no contact and she didn’t know where they were at and so she made her way to the elevator and pressed the button and stood.

      ‘Don’t you say hello?’ Matteo asked and she turned and smiled as he came and stood beside her.

      ‘I didn’t know if you’d just wanted to go up to your suite and crash,’ Abby admitted.

      ‘I do.’ Matteo yawned. It had been a very long day. ‘So, how’s the race preparation going?’ he asked as their elevator arrived and they stepped in.

      ‘It hasn’t been the best day.’ Abby 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

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