Page 16 of Driving the Billionaire Wild

‘Mummy is feeling a little tired,’ Astrid corrected with a weak attempt at a smile. ‘Mummy also doesn’t like it when plans change, just like Luca.’

‘Will be fun,’ he said patting her softly on the knee. ‘Plans change, darling.’

She chuckled out loud and heard Jem’s equally amused burst of laughter from the opposite sofa. They had waited so long, wondering if Luca would ever talk. Some calledhis type of speech a form of mirroring or scripting, and he was selective about when he opted to use verbal communication. But every small gesture or sound he used to make his voice heard would always be something she treasured. When he stood up and began to chuck some of his toys into his rucksack, she knew he was over his disappointment for now. Evidently, the promise of a bedroom on an aeroplane was bribery enough to ensure his cooperation.

As they finished getting ready and said goodbye to Jem, Astrid wondered if perhaps Luca might be taking this situation better than his mother was. There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Apollo couldn’t remember feeling more nervous in his life. After taking a small trip to gather some items he deemed immediately necessary, he had returned to the jet even more uncertain as he surveyed the parcels he’d accumulated. As he surveyed the small mountain of transport-themed toys and books piled up at the rear end of the jet, he wondered if perhaps he might have gone a little overboard. There was no time for him to rethink his plan, however, as through the plane window he spied their arrival.

Usually, nerves like this could threaten to overcome him as he sat in a car on the grid, listening to his team in his earpiece and going through his strategy for the race ahead. No matter what sport he had moved to over the past seven years or so, his strong internal focus had always centred him in the face of uncertainty. But it seemed that there was no script he could use for this, because the breath immediately left his lungs when Astrid stepped out of the car and he got the first look at his son’s face.

The little boy took an uncertain step out into the midday sunshine, his dark springy curls hanging low on his forehead as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Astrid held him by the hand but he made quick work of pulling away and racing directly towards the spot where Apollo had just reached the bottom step of the stairs.

‘You are Apollo Accardi,’ the small voice proclaimed, stopping a couple of steps away from him with a serious look on his small face.

Apollo froze in place, not quite knowing whether to say anything at all, after Astrid’s insistence that they needed to wait before telling him that Apollo was his father. But he’d suspected that Luca would already recognise him to a certain degree. The little boy knew all the Elite One drivers from watching the races.

‘I know your name too, Luca. I’ve been very excited to meet you.’

Luca blinked in his direction, his small fingers twisting by his sides as he looked past Apollo to take in the impressive jet behind him. Transport…right.

‘We will be flying to Grenada, where some of our…myfamily is from.’ Apollo swallowed hard at his near miss, feeling Astrid’s gaze heavy upon him. Perhaps he should have stayed inside and allowed them to situate themselves at their own pace, he thought. Perhaps he was already messing this up… But, just as he was poised to turn round and give them space, he felt a small tug at the bottom of his shirt and looked down to find his son had stepped even closer and was eagerly pointing to the aircraft.

Without missing a beat, Apollo kneeled down and began to name every single detail he could remember about the plane. When that wasn’t enough, he called outthe pilot, who offered even more detail. By the time they finally got inside the jet, his throat was dry from talking and his heart hammered as if he’d run ten miles, and still the boy tugged on his shirt to move towards the cockpit, not yet satisfied.

Apollo couldn’t help but feel that this first meeting was fast slipping out of his control, but then he looked at Astrid and caught the small smile on her lips, and wondered if maybe he hadn’t done so badly after all.

Chapter Eight

PREDICTABLY, LUCA DIDnot sleep one wink on the eleven-hour flight. With only a four-hour time difference between London and Grenada, they touched down in St. George a little past his bedtime, but not too far past the zones within which he might become overly dysregulated and struggle even more to find sleep. As it happened, Luca’s eyes began to droop just as they got into the sleek chauffeur-driven car and made their way along the coastline of the capital city.

With her own eyes dry and aching with tiredness, Astrid felt as if she were in a dream as the car swept through security at a set of impressive gates, leading to a long tree-lined driveway, and the facade of a grand villa came into view. The smell of sea salt and the sound of waves crashing surrounded her as her door was opened and the balmy night breeze invaded the car. Apollo’s gaze drifted to where Luca still slumped fully asleep and she saw his brief moment of hesitation.

‘Will he wake if I carry him?’ he asked.

Astrid shook her head, gently sliding her arm out from under Luca’s little body and angling him to a more easily accessible position. A lump formed in her throat as she watched the careful, almost reverential way Apollolifted his son into his arms for the first time. Their eyes met across the darkness of the car interior and she saw a flash of intense emotion there before he looked away. Their bags were already being brought inside by a small army of housekeeping staff so there was nothing for Astrid to do other than follow Apollo into the grand hall of the impressive villa.

Despite it most certainly being another very large home for one man, she was surprised at the warmth and personality of the interior. Wooden beams and green potted plants added to the general feeling of comfort amongst the colourful modern decor. This home was not like his others; there was no artifice and polish here, no priceless paintings or marble busts of ancient emperors. Instead, the walls contained large canvases and framed photography of…turtles?

In fact, when she looked closer, there were even tiny turtle motifs in the woodwork of the staircase too. As they reached a short corridor on the second floor, she watched the lamplight play on the wide expanse of Apollo’s shoulders and noticed that, un-styled, the curls on top of his head were almost identical to Luca’s. He guided them into a large bedroom near the end of the hall. They’d barely had a chance to speak throughout most of the flight, with Luca a blur of movement around the cabin. When he had discovered the pile of toys Apollo had purchased, her son had insisted they all sit together and unbox each item one by one.

Much of his communication came in the form of pointing and lifting his preferred grown-up’s hands in the direction of the item he wished to look at. It was usually only Astrid or Jem who got his glittering sparkles of sentences.He used spoken language sparingly, though he had proven time and time again that he had a more than average understanding of vocabulary for a boy his age. She had already mentioned that Luca was autistic to Apollo, giving him a few tips to help smooth the way, but she had not elaborated further than that. She wanted Luca to be understood for who he was, rather than being the result of a series of key points from an Internet search.

As far as first meetings went, they’d done brilliantly. For a man who had worried he’d have no idea how to interact with children, Apollo had been gentle and patient, which was all she could ask for. He’d taken her tips on board, of course, but more than that he’d asked Luca questions instead of directing his queries to Astrid, as many others sometimes did. He also hadn’t pushed or reacted with disappointment when he hadn’t received a spoken answer.

She helped him to get the sleeping boy into bed and they both tip-toed from the room.

‘I’ve had your things brought next door to the master bedroom.’

‘Isn’t that…yourbedroom?’

‘Usually, yes.’ His eyes met hers, a flicker of that same intensity she’d seen downstairs burning bright for just the barest second before he ran a hand through his hair. ‘No need to look so nervous, Astrid. I have other guest rooms to choose from.’

‘I’m not nervous.’

‘Your constant jumping from my touch and attention tells me otherwise.’ He sighed. ‘But, as I said before, my reasons for bringing you here are mostly practical. AndI thought you’d want to sleep near Luca, considering he’s in a new place.’