Page 9 of The Tycoon's Shock Heir

‘Ah yes. Rumi. “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along...” And all that rubbish.’

‘Yes, well. Some of that—“rubbish”—has made this ballet tonight,’ she said, pleased that she’d remembered something, even if he sounded less than impressed.

‘OK. Though, since its unlikely I’m going to be shaking hands with the poet Rumi tonight, do you have any facts about anyone alive? There’s normally a whole list of people I need to thank.’

‘Yes,’ she said, staring into his unimpressed face. ‘That’s all in my notes.’

‘Right,’ he said, standing up and staring at his watch. ‘We land in thirty minutes. You get your notes and I’ll grab a shower and get into my tux.’ He looked at her and nodded. ‘I think we’re both agreed that the sooner we get this over with the better.’

CHAPTER THREE

MATTEO ROSSINI WAS sacking off boxing and the casino to go to the ballet? Was he for real?

He could hear the boys howling down the phone as they all raised their glasses in a fake toast. At least someone found it funny, he thought as he hauled his third-best tux out of the wardrobe and laid it out on the bed.

He’d been looking forward to this night for ages. A chance to really blow off steam after the disastrous media circus he’d lived through with Faye. And learning of the juicy prospect of tucking Arturo Finance into the back pocket of the bank was going to be the icing on the cake.

He felt he was almost on the home straight already.

But all that would have to wait while he went to the ballet.

He dragged the towel across his damp shoulders and chuckled, realising he wasn’t nearly as down about it as he’d been half an hour ago. And it didn’t have anything to do with a new desire to watch people flounce about the stage. All the charm of the evening was wrapped up in one beautiful little package called Ruby.

She might well have designs on his mother, but he wasn’t getting that feeling from her—he wasn’t picking up that sycophantic thing that most people had about them when they met him for the first time.

She was refreshing, and he was in the mood to be refreshed, and since there was no choice in the matter for the next couple of hours he might as well enjoy what he could.

He stepped into his trousers just as there was a knock on the door. He listened. It came again. Two tiny little raps—one-two. Quiet, but determined. Business not pleasure, he thought, registering with interest a slight sense of disappointment.

He fastened his flies and lifted his shirt, then opened the door and there she was. All eyes, lips and lily-white slender limbs.

‘Hello, there,’ he said, stretching his arms inside his shirt. ‘Everything OK?’

By the look on her face everything was not OK. Her eyes had widened to coal-black circles and her mouth was in a shocked red ‘O’ as she gawped at his chest. He stifled a smile as he turned to spare her blushes and started to button his shirt.

‘I’m so sorry to bother you,’ she said, tucking her eyes down, ‘but I was meant to give you this to wear.’ She held out a little parcel, kept her head turned away. ‘From your mum.’

He continued to fasten his buttons and stared at the little parcel.

‘Want to open it for me?’ he said, now walking to the table for his cufflinks.

Her eyes flicked up, then down, but not before she took a good long look. He couldn’t help but smile broadly. Game on.

She pulled open the package and held out a red bow tie and pocket square.

‘Is everything OK?’

‘What?’ she said. ‘Yes, of course everything is OK. I was just wondering why you bother with those things.’

He paused, his collar up, considering her carefully. That was not what he’d expected to hear.

‘Pardon?’

‘Cufflinks. What are they even for? Why not just use buttons? I don’t get it.’

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re quite forward?’ he said, clicking the cufflinks together.

‘I say what’s on my mind. I’m not trying to cause offence, but I’ve never seen anyone use them.’

He finished and tugged at his cuffs, checking that his sleeves were perfectly straight, watching her watching him carefully. He was warming to her more by the minute.

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