Anne Fraser - The Playboy of Harley Street

A hundred and twenty! Were the pair of them out of their minds?

Fabio’s eyes glittered. ‘I’m not crazy, you know. I’ll take it easy, I swear.’

The men were helped into the narrow cockpits of their separate cars. With his helmet on, only Fabio’s eyes were visible. There was no mistaking the excitement in them. Katie seriously doubted he’d be able to keep himself or his car under control.

She was almost tempted to excuse herself—she really had no interest in watching her colleague fulfil a boyhood fantasy but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

The noise of the cars revving up would have been deafening had the staff not handed out ear defenders to everyone. With one final roar of the engines and the screech of burning rubber, the two men were off and within seconds had disappeared from view, already travelling at speed.

Less than two minutes later the cars came back into view, hurtling down the track towards them. Even with the sound muffled, Katie could still hear the tremendous whine of the engines, and she could feel the ground vibrating beneath her feet. The smell of burning fuel filled the air, adding to the sense of drama and excitement. Despite herself, Katie leant forward, hands clutched with tension as she tried to make out who was in front. As they roared past, Lucy was jumping up and down with excitement.

‘Go, Daddy, go!’

Before Katie knew it, they were back and Fabio was climbing out of his car.

‘Thanks, mate,’ he said to Mark. ‘‘That was some adrenaline rush. I wish I’d tried it sooner. Maybe I should take up rally driving instead.’

Fabio obviously had nerves of steel. He looked as unruffled as if he’d just been for a Sunday drive. Totally at ease in his black and red jumpsuit, the helmet casually tucked under an arm, he oozed sex appeal. He caught her looking at him and dropped his lid in a wink. Her heart gave another awkward thump and she looked away quickly.

At least she had a colleague for a little while longer. But what was he thinking? They were here to work, not have fun.

Another roar of an engine and Mark was off again. Fabio turned to Amelia, Lucy and Katie.

‘Your dad is some driver, isn’t he, Luce?’

‘He’s the best,’ Lucy agreed. ‘I just know he’s going to win the race.’

‘Of course he will,’ Fabio said. ‘If you’ll all excuse me, I’ll go and get changed.’

‘Why don’t we get some lunch upstairs, Lucy?’ Amelia suggested. ‘We’ll be able to see Dad better from up there.’ She turned to Katie. ‘You’ll join us? Mark’ll be at least another couple of hours out on the track. They have to be sure the car is handling just right before the race.’

‘When is it?’ Katie asked.

‘Tomorrow. Then he’s off to Istanbul for the next one in a couple of weeks. Depending on how Lucy is, we might go to that one too. If you and Fabio are free to come too, that is?’ Amelia watched her daughter who had skipped on ahead. ‘You don’t know how good it feels for us to be able to spend time as a family.’ She paused and bit her lip. ‘We don’t know for sure how long Lucy might be with us, so we want to spend as much time together as possible.’

Katie touched her on the shoulder. ‘Hopefully she’ll be with you long enough to give you grey hairs. Children with CF are doing so much better now.’ And she was being truthful. These days, around half of children with CF could expect to live to their late thirties and improvements in treatment meant that babies born today with the condition could expect to live much longer. In the 1960s a child was lucky to survive much beyond his or her fifth birthday. Of course, Amelia would know all that. Not that it was likely to be of much comfort. No parent would want to dwell on the fact that it was possible they would outlive their child.

After lunch, they all returned to the yacht. Lucy was due another round of physio.

Before Katie started, Fabio checked his small patient over.

‘Chest sounds good, Luce,’ he said, returning his stethoscope to his leather medical bag.

‘Does that mean I can skip my physio?’ Lucy asked hopefully.

‘Nice try, kiddo. But you know it doesn’t.’

‘S’pose so. I need to use the bathroom first.’

While they waited for Lucy, Fabio turned to Katie. ‘There’s a drinks party this evening. I don’t know if Amelia remembered to tell you.’

The thought of spending an evening with strangers panicked Katie. Especially as it would no doubt be crowded with the outrageously rich and famous glitterati of Monaco.

‘I won’t be expected to go, surely? If you don’t mind, I’d much rather have something to eat in my room and an early night.’ It wasn’t just the thought of spending an evening with stars—she just didn’t feel up to a party. Not that she wanted to share the real reason for her reluctance with Fabio.

‘You don’t have to stay long.’ Fabio replied, leaning against her dressing table. ‘You never know, you might even enjoy yourself.’

‘I doubt it. It’s just not my … scene.’ Damn! That made her sound even more gauche and unsophisticated than she already felt.

‘If you’re worried about meeting some of the guests, believe me, they’re all just ordinary people under their confident facades.’

‘It’s easy for you to say. You’re used to this world. I’m not.’ Oh, God, was he never going to give up? ‘Anyway I didn’t think to bring anything appropriate to wear.’

His look was appreciative. ‘I think you could wear anything and still look good.’

Katie flushed. As soon as she found herself warming to him, he resorted to the playboy charm. It must come as natural to him as breathing.

‘I’m sure Amelia will lend you a dress if need be.’ He looked at his watch and turned to go. ‘I’ll let Amelia and Mark know that Lucy will be along after she’s rested.’ Then, whistling, he left Katie standing in her room, unable to think of anything to say.

FABIO stood on the deck with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in his hand and looked around the crowd of partygoers. There was the usual mix of sports stars, singers and actors. He knew a lot of them from other occasions. Although he’d told Katie she would find the other guests interesting, in many ways he found it boring. It was the same old crowd, the same old parties, the same chat about who was dating who, who had clinched the bigger deal, whose career was on the up, and more salaciously whose was heading down.

He had thought about phoning the co-pilot and inviting her, but had decided against it. He was at work and didn’t like to mix business with pleasure. He’d wait until he got back to the UK before he called her.

Then he saw Katie step onto the deck. Her blonde hair, unleashed from the plait, was gleaming gold in the moonlight. Her eyes were wide with excitement, or anxiety—he couldn’t tell which, although he suspected the latter. As she stood on her own, separate from the crowd, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers, Fabio felt an unexpected rush of protectiveness.

A simple sundress exposed her delicate collarbones and revealed shapely, lightly tanned legs. Although she wore none of the ostentatiously expensive diamond jewellery the other women did and he knew enough about women’s clothes to know that her dress was no designer one-off, she outshone every other female on the yacht. Next to her the others looked overdressed and unnatural. He was stunned. Was this the same woman he had travelled with? As if sensing his eyes on her, she found his gaze and in that split second it was as if everyone else disappeared.

He pushed his way through the crowd until he was by her side.

‘So you decided to make an appearance after all?’ he asked.