Modern Romance July 2016 Books 1-4. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
was the bane of his existence.
‘Look at this one,’ Ellison said and they moved on to the next photo. ‘It must have been...’ Ellison thought back. ‘I think Abby’s about five here, so some twenty-two years ago.’
Abby’s eyes were red, Matteo noted.
Well, they were actually a vivid green but she’d clearly been crying.
‘The only way we could get her to sit in a dress for the photo was to give her a toy car. She was obsessed with cars even then.’
Matteo had no idea where this was leading but he had learned long ago that all knowledge was power and so he let Ellison drone on. He could also see that in the photo Anette was wearing the necklace that Giovanni so badly wanted.
‘Abby was upset because we’d just fired the nanny. Both the girls were terribly fond of her,’ Ellison said. ‘My wife insisted on it though.’
Now they were getting somewhere! Matteo guessed that it wasn’t just the daughters who’d been fond of the nanny.
‘And this,’ Ellison said, moving along, ‘is the last photo I have of my daughter in a dress.’
There Abby stood on a red carpet, with a good-looking blond man by her side.
A man Matteo thought that he recognised.
‘Hunter Coleman ,’ Ellison said and Matteo nodded as he now placed him. Hunter was a top racing driver and had a reputation with women that rivalled even Matteo’s. ‘Abby dated him for a while,’ Ellison explained. ‘Anyway, as I said, she always had a thing for cars. If I couldn’t find her, then she’d be in the garage, pulling apart a Bentley, or taking the engine out of a Jag. I tried to get her out of it—it’s not exactly fitting for a young woman of her standing. She went off to college to study fashion and started dating Hunter and finally I thought that the tomboy in her was gone. The trouble is, unlike her mother, my darling daughter doesn’t know how to stand and offer quiet support. No, Abby, being Abby, had to offer a top racing driver advice on his racing technique.’
Matteo laughed but then it trailed off.
Hunter’s hand was closed tightly around Abby’s, and again, despite the smile, her eyes were...not angry. Matteo looked more closely.
Guarded.
It was the best he could come up with—but no, despite the smile for the camera, that wasn’t a happy young woman.
‘Anyway, she dumped him!’ Ellison sounded shocked. ‘God knows how she thought she could do better, and then she switched from studying fashion to automotive engineering. Now she’s...’
‘The Boucher team!’ Matteo could place her as well now. Well, not Abby specifically, but yes, he knew a little about the emerging racing team.
‘Boucher was my wife’s maiden name.’ Ellison sighed. ‘It’s a very expensive hobby...’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Oh, believe me, you can’t.’ Ellison shook his head. ‘Especially when the owner of the team refuses to play the corporate game and chat up sponsors. As I said to Abby last week, she’s going to have to find the cash. I’m not bailing her out.’
‘Has she asked?’
‘Not yet!’ Ellison’s smug smile returned. ‘But the rest of her mother’s trust fund is tied up till she’s thirty or married. There’s no chance of that girl marrying, which means she’s got no income for another three years!’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ Matteo asked.
‘Because, as you must have heard, I’m on the comeback trail. In July I’m going to be holding my first political fundraiser since my wife’s death. I’ve told Abby that if she comes, and looks the part, and by that I mean she loses the jeans and oil rags, then I’ll give her a cash injection to tide her over.’
‘Has she said that she’s coming?’
‘Not yet,’ Ellison said. ‘But I need her to be there. Image is everything in politics and I don’t want there to be even a whiff of discord. Annabel, my eldest daughter, will do the right thing but I want Abby to be here too. I want my daughter, at my function, wearing her mother’s necklace. I want her looking like a woman for once...’
She looked all woman to Matteo.
‘Can you manage that?’ Ellison asked.
‘Sorry?’ Matteo frowned.
‘You said that you like a challenge. You like women—see if you can sweet-talk her and get Abby to show up here, looking the part. If she does, at the end of the night, the necklace is yours.’
‘How am I supposed to persuade her if you can’t...?’ Matteo started but then, guessing Ellison’s intent, he shook his head. ‘No way.’
Ellison just laughed. ‘I’m not asking you to seduce her. I don’t think you’d get very far. Rumour has it my daughter isn’t particularly interested in men.’
No, Matteo really, really didn’t like this man.
‘She hasn’t dated anyone since Hunter and it hasn’t gone unnoticed,’ Ellison said, frowning at the photo. ‘I want that rumour quashed. I want Abby here, dressed like a woman and with a handsome chap by her side.’ Ellison returned his gaze to Matteo and continued. ‘You could be a potential sponsor, considering investing in her team.’
‘It’s April,’ Matteo pointed out. ‘Your fundraiser isn’t until July. How long am I supposed to be considering investing for?’
‘I’d be giving you the necklace for nothing, perhaps the money you’ve earmarked for it could go towards convincing my daughter that you want to sponsor the team.’
‘And if she doesn’t come to your fundraiser?’
‘You don’t get your necklace.’
Matteo could cheerfully have knocked Ellison’s lights out but instead he watched as Ellison went over to the safe and took out a gleaming polished wooden box and handed it to him.
Oh, my God, Matteo thought as he undid the intricate latch and saw the necklace firsthand.
Not even the photos did it justice.
How the hell had his grandfather come by this? Matteo wondered, and he could see now why he would want it back.
Jewellery had never really impressed Matteo.
This piece couldn’t fail to.
‘I doubt it’s possible to get Abby here,’ Ellison said.
Matteo looked over to Ellison and then back to the necklace and he took Ellison’s words as a dare—which was something he never said no to.
And his grandfather wanted the necklace so badly.
No, he could never be the man his grandfather wanted him to be but this he could do.
‘Can you give me your daughter’s contact details?’ Matteo asked.
His mind was made up—he would get this Lost Mistress back to where it belonged.
ELLISON HAD BEEN right about one thing—his daughter Abby really was terrible at the corporate stuff.
It had taken two weeks for her to reply to Matteo’s email and at best her response had been lukewarm.
Of course Matteo had looked into the Boucher team more closely by then.
He was a risk-taker by nature, but they were, even by his standards, more of a gamble than one should take.
It was their second year in competition and their best was a fifth place last