Page 3 of Driving the Billionaire Wild

Either the old man’s directions were off or the hallways in the grand villa were moving of their own accord, because Astrid quickly found herself in another identical hall with no clue where she was. The sound of loud music floated from somewhere in the house like a ghostly siren’s call. A look inside the first open doorway showed a scene of utter chaos with a small crowd of people apparently sleeping upon floor cushions and sofas, whilst almost every available surface was covered in champagne bottles and glasses.

‘Is he hosting a funeral or a bachelor party?’ Astrid muttered to herself as she stepped round a trail of clothing and what appeared to be confetti strewn along the next hallway. More evidence of heavy partying emerged through a long glass window that looked out onto a modern indoor pool and cabana area filled with even more bottles of expensive alcohol. One man lay asleep on a lounging chair, completely nude except for a swathe of whitefauxfur around his shoulders.

From a PR point of view, this was an utter disaster for a man who was being accused of celebrating the death of his famous grandfather. Still, not the worst party aftermath she’d been subjected to in her career. This might explain Apollo’s impulsive decision to break his contract; wealthy drivers often let loose during breaks in their gruelling training regimes. This industry was a pressure cooker of sorts. But Apollo had been raised in this world, in a powerful family where appearances were everything. He should know better—a harsh truth she planned to inform him of immediately before they got to work cleaning up this mess.

The music grew louder as she reached a new wing of the house and she followed, finding herself on a mezzanine level that looked down upon a second indoor swimming pool. This one was Olympic length and ran alongside a fully fitted, glass-walled commercial gym. A curved staircase led her down to the ground floor of the bright space, the source of the pounding rock music now undeniable.

A man emerged from the far end of the pool and Astrid jumped, realising she was looking at the broad expanse of Apollo Accardi’s famously muscular back. Not that she had memorised his body; it was just hard not to recognise him with the rather distinctive tapestry of swirling tattoos that decorated his rich brown skin. The music drowned out any hope of him hearing her, so she was forced to pursue him through a series of rooms filled with high-tech training equipment, her breath heaving in her lungs.

She passed through, noting an expensive electronic simulation racing set-up was paused, the screen showing the new track layout for the next race, one month away in Monaco. So typical of an Elite One driver to throw a raging party in the wake of a family funeral, but still spend the next day training harder than any other athlete.

But all thoughts swiftly left her mind when she entered the next room to find the man himself braced over a large steel bath tub, muscles rippling in the midday light that streamed in from the glass-domed roof above. Mouth dry, Astrid cleared her throat to announce herself and fought not to squirm when dark eyes pinned her in place.

She knew the ice bath he was slowly lowering himself into was to reduce muscle pain after heavy training and competitions. She knew this because racing driverswere her speciality, but Apollo… . She never could figure him out. Even now, with his eyes raking up her body in a slow assessment, she felt her skin prickle with awareness and had to resist the urge to cover her chest…just in case her treacherous breasts gave her away through the secure padding of her bra.

‘Astrid.’ His husky voice was a low growl as he submerged himself fully into the icy water without so much as a shiver. Still not breaking eye contact, he steeled his jaw. ‘If you’re here to babysit me some more, I’m afraid you’ve travelled for nothing.’

‘Babysitting is not an option, now you’ve already made your mess. I’m here to clean it up.’ She spoke in a deliberately neutral tone, setting her briefcase and overnight bag down gently on the tiled floor before crossing her arms. ‘I understand you are grieving.’

‘I’m not grieving. I’m done,’ Apollo said calmly, his eyes closed, and head tilted back in a way that put the impossibly thick expanse of his neck on full display. She mentally shook herself, standing up to her full height.

‘Your cousins are already trying to use your grandfather’s passing to smear your name. Your behaviour is not helping matters.’

The few times she’d met him, he’d usually smiled at her and flirted, but not today. Today, he just seemed exhausted. Grief did that to people, she supposed, and felt a pang of guilt at what she was here to try and make him do. She realised how strange it must have been, going from winning an Elite One Premio to burying the man who had helped forge his career in the space of a few days. Maybe that was what she needed to appeal to: the memory of the man he’d lost, and to ensuring Enzo’sname wasn’t tarnished. She took a seat on a nearby bench, crossing her legs as demurely as she could manage in her knee-length skirt.

‘Look, I know that you and your grandfather had been estranged for a number of years, and I understand his death must have come as a shock.’

‘The man thrived on coffee and cigarettes, not to mention he never took a damned day off in fifty years. It was a shock he lived this long.’ He paused, meeting her eyes. ‘Did I tell you that he called me? The morning of his heart attack. He asked if we could talk. I’d heard he had been in poor health over the past year… Still, I said no. I didn’t realise it was this serious.’

Astrid blinked at the emotionless delivery of his words. Brown eyes met hers and for a split second she saw under the facade. This man wasn’t just exhausted and grieving… . he was also furious.

‘Give me an hour,’ she cajoled softly. ‘We can talk through the situation over lunch and, if you’re still sure of your decision, I’ll go.’

‘Ever the professional, Ms Lewis,’ he growled. ‘I don’t need or want Falco Roux stepping into my family conflict. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m no longer your concern.’

‘Like it or not, your actions have made this my concern. I’ve had to fly here on my day off so, if you have decided to suddenly give up your chance at winning the driver’s championship, then you have plenty of time to get up out of your little bath and help me fix it.’

Apollo closed his eyes, stretching muscular arms up over his head. ‘I’m rather busy at present.’

Astrid felt a flare of irritation. ‘Busy recovering from a raging party with a gang of models?’ She took a stepcloser. ‘You may have a lot more power than most drivers out there, but your contractual obligations to your team remain the same. In this business, every second counts, and I won’t leave until you agree to make a statement.’

‘You seem upset about the models, Astrid, are you feeling jealous?’ A wry ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, one strong hand rising from the water to trace a lazy path along the rim of the steel tub.

The way he’d said her name sent a warm shiver down her spine. As did the unmistakeable flash of hunger in his gaze. She remembered how openly Apollo had flirted with her during those first weeks, and how quickly and primly she had made clear to him her rules about never dating a driver. He’d flashed her his stunning smile and made a point never to press the issue again. But these hungry looks had persisted…

As had a curiosity of her own at how tempted she’d been to allow her tightly knit boundaries to be unravelled by a man like Apollo Accardi. A vision of what that might look like entered her mind: being held and touched in a way she had denied herself for almost eight years. But she knew all too well what happened when she threw caution to the wind and indulged in a little harmless fun. There was a reason why she kept her world so tightly controlled, after all. She pushed away her moment of weakness and reminded herself of the task at hand.

‘Apollo, it’s my job to stop drivers from ruining their careers, and I’m damned good at it.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, putting on her best stern, no-nonsense attitude. ‘So it’s in your best interests to let me help you. I won’t leave until we have agreed upon a course of action.’

‘You’re wasting your time,’ he growled.

‘This is important for your team, and—’

‘Not my team any more,’ he ground out. ‘Now, unless you want an eyeful, I’d suggest you leave while I get out of mylittle bath.’

Astrid paused, taking in the hard line of his jaw and feeling a cold foreboding in her stomach. Despite Tristan’s insistence that this was an impulsive action, Apollo seemed utterly serious about breaking his contract. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose hard. They could have threatened any other driver with sanctions and fines and kept the upper hand. Apollo was not just any driver, though; he was a man with the power and means to pay his way out of any situation.

Before she could process his warning, Apollo was standing up, water sluicing down over his very muscular, verynakedbody. She couldn’t help but see every inch of skin he so brazenly put on show, and felt a blush begin immediately in her cheeks as she fought to look away without reacting.