LITMIR.BIZ

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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...’

      ‘I already do!’ she said.

      ‘Which means, if we want this to work, then it’s hands off each other.’

      ‘I’m good with that,’ she said.

      ‘Anyway,’ Matteo added, ‘I don’t date.’

      ‘And I don’t drink.’

      ‘At all?’

      ‘Nope.’ She shook her head.

      ‘Ever?’

      ‘Never.’ She smiled at his curiosity. ‘Well, I tried it and didn’t like it.’

      ‘Okay, water for two it is.’

      ‘You can.’

      ‘I know that I can,’ Matteo said, ‘but I’m keeping my wits about me with you.’

      He looked at the menu and groaned. ‘Truffle-crusted scallops—I know what I’m having.’

      His groan made her stomach tighten; the low sound of his want caused her breath to hold in her throat, and then he looked up.

      His eyes were the darkest navy and when he smiled so, too, did she.

      ‘That’s better,’ Matteo said.

      He was nice, her heart said.

      Just that.

      The food was amazing and the company too, and he really did take her concerns seriously.

      ‘I had a sponsor last year, not a particularly generous one,’ Abby explained. ‘He rang all the time, wanted constant progress reports. Race day was hell. He wanted me to join him and his cronies for a champagne brunch and Pedro to be sociable...’

      ‘Look, I get you don’t want someone sticking their nose in and I can manage lunch by myself. And, for what it’s worth, I won’t be putting pressure on you or your team. I wouldn’t expect much this year...’

      ‘Oh, no,’ Abby interrupted. ‘We’re winning the Henley Cup this year.’

      ‘I’m just saying that I’m patient.’

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