Blessed with many gifts, including the fact that he was the younger son of the Duc de Falcon of Monaco, he could be excused for assuming no woman was immune to him. If there were depths to him not yet visible, only time would tell, probably after he was too old to compete anymore.
Half Italian, half Monegasque, Cesar’s movie star looks made him the supreme favorite with the crowd. Filled with the matchless optimism of a man who knows he’s number one, he’d arranged for Olivia to sit near the podium. But she didn’t try to reach him after the ceremony was over. Even if she’d wanted to, it would have been a physical impossibility.
Not only was he basking in the adulation of thousands of screaming fans while he drank champagne and pressed his lips to the winner’s cup—at least a dozen gorgeous female admirers were now crowding him, hanging on his arm, lifting their mouths for his kiss which he passed around with obvious relish.
Naturally the spectacle provided hundreds of photo ops for the many international journalists covering the race. By tomorrow morning pictures of him embracing one beauty after another would grace the front page of a thousand newspapers and magazine covers.
For Olivia, the whole scene was a huge turnoff. Her sense of distaste for such a lifestyle deepened as she watched the women battling for position, hoping to be the one he took home for the night. Little did they know that last night Olivia had been his target.
Scenes like the one going on in front of her right now happened to Cesar before and after every race. Women would continue to swarm around him like bees, and he would respond for as long as racing fever was in his blood.
Olivia recognized that any woman unfortunate enough to fall in love with an international sports celebrity would have to put up with a mistress more merciless than any flesh-and-blood female.
While she stood there staring blindly in Cesar’s direction, the idea that had taken root in her mind last night had turned into a fully fledged plan. She couldn’t leave the grandstand fast enough to put it into action.
Without hesitation she worked her way through the crowds to reach the cue of taxis outside the race track. “The Accademia Hotel,” she told the driver.
“Si, signorina.”
Once back in her room, she would phone her sister Piper, who was already in Genoa, Italy, on business.
Some mockups of their calendars in Italian were ready for them to examine. If they thought the finished products looked good, she’d run off a bunch for Signore Tozetti to distribute in the Parma region. Provided they sold well, it could mean a lot more orders down the road.
Olivia was supposed to be there to help make the decision before they flew home to New York together. But she’d changed her mind about leaving Europe just yet, and she trusted Piper’s judgment completely.
Her sister wouldn’t approve of Olivia’s plan to go after Luc. Neither would Greer. Luckily she wasn’t around to quash Olivia’s idea. Thanks to Maximilliano di Varano, the love of Greer’s life, Greer was on her honeymoon.
It had taken a very special man to break up the Duchess triplets, three blond sisters who caused a minor sensation at birth and bore a strong resemblance to each other without being identical.
Max had taken one look at Greer with her amethyst eyes, and the dedicated bachelor had fallen so hard, Olivia knew he would never recover.
Since their nuptials four days ago in the private chapel of the Varano family palace in Parma, the two lovers had been honeymooning at an intimate hide-away somewhere in Greece.
The look of desire and adoration in Max’s eyes after kissing his bride at the altar revealed to the whole world how he felt about Greer. There was no telling how long he planned to keep her to himself, but Olivia had a hunch it would be at least a month before she and Piper heard from their sister. Long enough for Olivia to follow through with her daring scheme…
With Greer married off, Olivia’s world had changed. She was feeling a heady new sense of freedom both physical and psychological. She figured Piper was enjoying the freedom, too. Without Greer around to tell them how to think and what they were going to do next, Olivia could finally be master of her own destiny.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love Greer. On the contrary, she adored her. Still, it was a relief not to have to face her and hear her say, I told you it would be a mistake to go off with Cesar. If you do that, then you’re the kind of stupid, naive, dumb blond he seduces after every race.
Despite the fact that Luc’s antipathy toward Olivia had made her do it, heat filled Olivia’s cheeks to realize that once Greer had left on her honeymoon, Olivia had gone off and done the exact, stupid thing Greer had warned her not to do.
In fact it was Greer who’d told Olivia she wasn’t in love with Fred. Olivia had already figured that out after meeting Luc, but she’d gone on dating Fred for the six weeks prior to Greer’s wedding in an effort to forget Luc and prove that Greer’s power over her wasn’t absolute.
Unfortunately she’d paid for it in the end when she’d been forced to tell Fred that it was really over. She’d been very unfair to him by leading him on, and was still smarting from the pain she’d caused him. One piercing glance from Greer with that “I told you so, now you’ve really done it” look, hadn’t helped matters.
What really miffed Olivia was the fact that even though Max had claimed Greer for his wife and taken her away, Olivia was still battling her sister’s powerful influence over her. She could just imagine Greer’s reaction if she knew what Olivia was planning now.
You’re what? Are you insane? Didn’t we all learn a very important lesson the first time around?
“Signorina?” the driver called over his shoulder. They’d arrived at the hotel. She’d been so immersed in her new strategy, she hadn’t even noticed!
After paying him a bundle of Euros she didn’t even bother to count, she got out of the taxi and rushed inside, anxious to set things in motion.
Once she’d confirmed tickets on a flight to Nice leaving in two hours, she phoned Piper at her hotel in Genoa.
After relating the spectacular news that Cesar had won the Italian Grand Prix, Olivia told Piper what she was intending to do.
“You’re what?” Her sister sounded suspiciously like Greer just then, which didn’t help matters.