Page 4 of Driving the Billionaire Wild

She almost succeeded too, only for something to grab her attention so suddenly that her entire body seemed to freeze colder than the tub he still stood in. The long, raised, curved line was a darker shade of brown than the rest of his skin, and should have been completely innocuous, considering the tattoos that covered most of his upper torso and back. But this… .marking was low in his groin, hidden from usual view.

Like a trigger, a memory unlocked in her mind: a masked auction in Venice; an instant attraction with a handsome stranger who’d made her laugh; her nervous excitement at his offer to go upstairs to the penthouse fora drink…until they’d become trapped in the lift together during a power cut caused by a violent storm.

An agreement to keep their masks on, to stay anonymous. Pleasure so intense, she’d felt forever changed.

Her hands had explored his hard muscles in the semi-darkness of the lift. Her fingertips had followed a long, curved line of a scar, and she’d asked how it came to be. He’d given a vague description of a childhood accident with a bow and arrow, and how he’d wanted to have a funny tattoo designed around it, but hadn’t got round to it yet—a tattoo of a bow, sending an arrow free… .identical to the one that now sat low on Apollo Accardi’s groin.

‘I told you I was getting out,’ Apollo said gruffly as he grabbed a towel to sling across his hips, shielding his skin from her shell-shocked view. Astrid was only half aware of her own movements as she shakily took a step backwards, half-stumbling over her luggage on the floor. Her stomach tightened as her eyes rose up to lock on his face. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Because if it was…

‘Are you okay?’ Apollo asked, frowning now. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

Perhaps she had. Or perhaps her mind had just finally made the connection with the memory that her body seemed to have recognised instantly the moment this powerfully built, enigmatic man had walked into her meeting room on the day he’d signed his Falco Roux contract last summer, and every damned day ever since. His accent was different, his body covered in tattoos and more muscles that the man she remembered. Itcouldn’tbe him, and yet…

It was.

Her breathing shallowed and a tremor began in her legsso suddenly that she feared she might collapse completely. So, she did the only logical thing she could think of when faced with the realisation that the most famous driver in Elite One racing was the father of her six-year-old son.

She grabbed her bags and ran.

Chapter Three

IT TOOK Amoment for Apollo’s brain to catch up with the amount of effort he was expending to keep the physical reaction of his body under control. Being around Astrid Lewis was an exercise in sensual torture at the best of times, but in his current mood… He cursed and stepped quickly out of the ice bath, realising he had behaved badly.

Scooping up a pair of workout shorts from a nearby surface, he ignored the sensation of his still wet and freezing-cold skin as he pushed through the terrace doors into the warm summer air.

She’d barely had a minute of a head start but had made impressive progress across the gravelled courtyard that backed the rear wing of his estate. As he called out her name, he saw the whip of her light brown hair in the breeze as she broke into a run, her heels, a briefcase and a small bag causing her difficulty across the soft lawn in the direction of the lakeside dock.

His butler had spent most of the morning ushering guests from last night’s entertainment without the press seeing them. It had been his father’s choice to throw a celebration in the wake of Nonno’s death. Santo Accardi was used to having full use of Apollo’s Lake Como estate, so by the time Apollo had arrived back from a day ofmeetings in Milan with Enzo’s lawyers, and had realised the extent of the festivities taking place in his home, he had been unable to stop things.

Who was he to tell anyone how to grieve? Papa was a free spirit and had been excommunicated and disinherited from the Accardi family before Apollo had ever been born, punished for his refusal to join the family business in favour of his chosen career in film.

Santo’s and Apollo’s relationship had suffered somewhat when Apollo had accepted his grandfather’s invitation to pursue his racing interests seriously. His mother had been busy saving her own career and heartbroken by the divorce. His father had sunk further into his life of casual sex and partying post-divorce, so Enzo had stepped in as his father figure. With every year in which Apollo’s talent had become more obvious, Nonno had become more invested in fostering it, and his relationship with his parents had suffered further.

They had reconnected in recent years since Apollo had broken all ties with Accardi Autosport, but a weight in his stomach grew as he remembered he would soon have to tell Santo that Enzo had completely disregarded his only living son’s existence in his last will and testament… Santo had been the second-born son, who had grown up in the shadow of his successful racing driver brother. Apollo’s Uncle Domenico had passed away during a routine neck operation the year before his parents’ divorce, the tragic death leaving his three cousins without a father. It had likely contributed heavily to his own father’s out-of-control behaviour and his grandfather’s increased interest in Apollo’s desire to race, he thought.

But, instead of splitting his estate equally betweenhis four grandchildren, Enzo had decided to leave sole ownership of Accardi Autosport to Apollo. It was a move that had stunned him to his core and had the potential to launch shockwaves through both Apollo’s career and the entirety of Elite One racing. A fact that the old man would have well known, Apollo thought darkly, as he broke into a sprint across the gravelled courtyard in pursuit of the beautiful woman who had intruded upon his intention to brood alone for the entire day.

He finally caught up with her as she stood motionless, watching a water taxi filled with tired party guests move away from the small jetty across Lake Como. The butler stood by her side, apologising as he explained another vessel could be arranged.

‘So much for you refusing to leave my property,’ Apollo said, his body bracing against the cool breeze coming off the lake onto his naked chest. He didn’t miss the way Astrid’s eyes took in said naked chest for a split second before she quickly looked away again, the same panicked look in her eyes that he had seen in his gym.

Something about her entire reaction was off. The woman he had worked with for the past year would not have been so easily cowed by something so ridiculous as a nude man. She was legendary in the industry, with stories of her skill at wrangling out of scandals even the most dramatic of drivers. Many teams had tried to sway her to their side, coveting this force of nature whose gift it was to meld narratives and harness public opinion for those who needed it.

But he knew there was nothing she could do to spin this as anything other than a PR disaster for Falco Roux. He couldn’t continue to drive for Falco Roux and own arival team at the same time. But he couldn’t prove that he hadn’t known about inheriting the family team he’d walked away from almost eight years ago. The only person who could do that was dead.

‘I’m sorry for my actions back there; there is no excuse for it, so I won’t make one.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said quietly, still studiously avoiding his gaze as she pulled out her phone and began tapping on the screen.

‘Come back inside, Astrid. You can continue to berate me for my unreasonable behaviour and I’ll be sure not to flash you again.’ She didn’t make a move to follow him. Resisting the urge to glower, he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You said that you don’t give up. Have you suddenly decided I’m a lost cause, then?’

She shook her head, gulping in a breath as though she couldn’t quite get enough air into her lungs. Was she having a panic attack? Had the sight of his naked form rattled her so much that it had escalated her into a state of fear? The realisation that he knew nothing about this woman or her history and that he might’ve done something unintentionally traumatic was a stark one, tightening his own chest.

‘I feel the need to affirm that you are safe here, Astrid. With me. I didn’t mean anything by my actions other than perhaps to make you leave me alone.’

‘I know you didn’t. This isn’t about that,’ she said, a tremor in her voice as she let out a strange laugh under her breath before shaking her head. ‘This was the last thing that I expected when I agreed to travel all the way here today.’

‘But you did come here and I’ve been a terrible host. Let’s go back inside and you can school me over lunch.’