“There’s no more all.” She prided herself on keeping a steady voice.
“You and I have each other. I don’t want to see you in any more pain. It’s been hard enough on us to lose Daddy.”
At the mention of their father who’d died in April, Olivia’s eyes smarted. “I don’t intend to stay in pain. My plan is foolproof.”
There was a long, resigned silence. “What is it exactly you’re intending to do?”
“Get him to propose, at which time I will say yes.”
“Not that again! Luc already knows about the Husband Fund scheme, so it won’t work on him.”
“Yes, it will. He thinks I’m interested in Cesar, so he’ll jump at the chance to save his brother from a fate worse than death by taking me on Fabio’s boat. While we’re basking in the sun, I’ll find ways to thaw out his heart until he’s unable to resist me. By the time we dock at Vernazza, he’ll have proposed.”
“You’ll never break him down, Olivia.”
She clutched the phone tighter. “Want to bet?”
After a pause, “I don’t bet when I already know the outcome. I repeat. You’ll live to regret this.” Piper’s voice sounded like Greer’s at her most prophetic. “Come home with me and we’ll find you a nice American guy to date.”
“After Fred, no thank you.”
“Not like Fred. Europe doesn’t have the monopoly on exciting men.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’ve already met the man I want for my husband, Piper. There’s no talking me out of it.”
“You think he’s hurt you now…you just wait!”
Olivia refused to let the secret Piper was withholding about Luc get to her. “We’ll see.”
“It’s your funeral, but whatever happens, call me tomorrow. I have to know where you are and where I can reach you or I won’t have any peace. I should be in Kingston by noon at the latest.”
“I promise to phone,” Olivia vowed. “Have a safe flight. I’m glad Tom will be there to meet you. Be sure he takes a look around the apartment for you first.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Now Olivia was doing what she’d accused Piper of doing—telling her what to do. Running her life. “Okay, I won’t. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After Olivia hung up, she sat down to write a letter to Cesar. She needed to couch her words carefully.
“Dear cousin-in-law,” she began. Once she’d explained that her heart belonged to another, she thanked him profusely for the wonderful time he’d shown her, thanked him for his kindness and generosity and praised him for his latest win.
“May all your wins in the coming years be as successful. I remain your friend and greatest fan from the U.S. Olivia Duchess.”
Pleased with her message, she sealed it in the envelope and took it downstairs to leave with the concierge.
“I don’t know when Monsieur Villon will come back to the hotel to check out, but as soon as he does, will you make certain he gets this?”
“Si, signorina.”
“Grazie.”
After paying her bill, she carried her suitcase outside to the limo. The hotel provided transportation to the airport. Hopefully she was leaving soon enough to avoid the mass of tourists who probably wouldn’t jam the terminal until tomorrow after a night of nonstop partying.
Once she reached Nice, she would take a taxi to the Falcon Villa in Monaco and surprise Luc. If her plan was going to work, it was imperative she catch him off guard. Forewarned and he might disappear on her. She couldn’t let that happen.
CHAPTER TWO
“PLEASE wait for me.”
The chauffeur de taxi nodded while Olivia approached the front door of the villa. It was seven-thirty on a hot August evening. She could still feel the heat rising from the street.
A maid answered. She recognized Olivia from her previous visit in June. When Olivia asked if she could see Luc, the other woman explained he didn’t live there with his parents, yet Olivia distinctly remembered Luc claiming that he did!
Cross because it had been a deliberate ploy on his part to keep his private life private, she was forced to ask the maid where to find him. She learned he had his own home, the Mas de Falcon. Olivia wasn’t familiar with the word.
The maid wrote down the address for her. Olivia thanked her, then gave it to the taxi driver. He nodded and they took off once more, heading for the region above the city.
In a few minutes they drove down a private road that opened up into a charming courtyard filled with pots of flowers. There she discovered an exquisite pale pink, two-story villa with light blue shutters at all the windows. Apparently this was the back of the house.
Like an eagle’s eyrie, the mas sat perched on a hill overlooking Monaco-Ville. The view would be magnificent.
In front of the garage at the side of the house were two vehicles: a truck that had to be several years old, and a black sports car. Hopefully that meant Luc was home, but she wouldn’t know until she rang the doorbell.
Assuming he employed staff who could call another taxi for her in case he wasn’t there, she paid the driver, then waved him off.
Determined as she’d ever been in her life, she walked up to the back entrance with her suitcase. “Be home, Luc.”
With her heart pounding out of rhythm, she pushed the buzzer and waited. When there was no answer, she rang again.
On the third try, she heard noise like someone swearing. Shivering a little, she was glad she didn’t understand French.
Then the door opened to reveal Luc himself, dressed in low-slung cutoff jeans and nothing else. Though she could see scarring on the shin bone of his leg beneath the knee, he looked so blatantly male with the dusting of black hair on his well cut chest and physique, she couldn’t think or talk.
In that dizzying moment, she didn’t notice that his mouth had formed a white line of anger. Not until her eyes wandered helplessly up his hard-muscled body to his striking face.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Despite the anger in that low, grating voice, she loved his French accent when he spoke English.
“What are you doing answering the door without your cane?” Olivia fired back. She wasn’t about to be intimidated by him. “You don’t have to prove how macho you are in front of people, especially me. We’re family now,” she added just to irritate him.
His hands went to his hips, a gesture that emphasized his total masculinity. “Is that your unsubtle way of telling me you and Cesar ran off and got married after the race?”
She laughed. “Wouldn’t you hate it if I said yes, thereby proving that I’m the ultimate groupie who was out for everything I could get from your brother, and did!”
His silvery eyes had narrowed to slits. “Why are you here?”
“What?” Her expressive brows lifted in question. “Not even a ‘won’t you come in and make yourself comfortable’?”
“You’re not an invited guest.”
“Not even when we’re related through marriage?”
He