To Win His Heart

by Rebecca Winters

  She could hear Luc now. “Under the circumstances I suggest you go home to New York and make plans with Fabio for another trip. Next summer perhaps? By then Cesar’s ardor should have cooled.”

  No way was she going to let him dispatch her as if she were so much baggage!

  She could go ashore and ask around for someone who knew how to sail and wanted a job on the spot. She would pay them out of her own pocket if she had to. But she didn’t have that kind of time. Luc might wake up at any minute.

  What to do?

  She could hear Greer’s voice on their last trip. What did the Von Trapp Family do when they wanted to get out of Austria and the borders were closed?

  That was it!

  Olivia would take the boat out herself. It had a motor. The Mediterranean was smooth as glass right now. She’d run the outboard motor on her dad’s rowboat many a time. For that matter she’d driven Fred’s boat dozens of times while they’d taken turns waterskiing. How hard could it be?

  Later on she would worry about working the sail which was probably in one of the lockers. For now it was imperative she get them away from shore before Luc knew what was happening and sent her packing.

  Without wasting another second, she climbed onto the pier and undid the ropes. Once that was accomplished, she got back in the boat and walked to the other end.

  She studied the outboard motor and gear shift. It all looked straightforward to her. After seating herself on the bench, she turned the key and pressed the button. The motor revved on cue.

  So far so good.

  She put the gear in reverse. Luckily there weren’t any boats nearby for her to run into. The boat slowly inched away from the pier. With her hand on the tiller, she made an experimental circle to get the hang of it.

  Okay. Here goes.

  She pressed on the forward throttle. Off the boat flew. Knowing she should be traveling at a wakeless speed, she decreased the power and headed straight out to sea past the buoys.

  Her thoughts flew ahead.

  The island of Ischia off of Naples was southeast of Vernazza. All she had to do was head east as far as Lerici where Luc and his cousins had taken them on the Piccione. She knew what to look for. After all, it was in those waters she and her sisters had jumped ship in order to get away from the crew. From there she’d head south.

  She opened up the throttle. This was a piece of cake.

  When she glimpsed other pleasure boats, she gave them wide berth as she navigated through the calm waters. Luc was still asleep. That was good. He needed it.

  The motor gave her no trouble. She relaxed and enjoyed the breathtaking view of jewel-like villages dotting the coastline in the far distance.

  Olivia decided this was much better than being on the Piccione. She had Luc all to herself at last.

  A smile curved her lips upward remembering the first time she’d met him. He’d passed himself off as a French chef who cooked for royalty, but to Olivia he’d looked like some sort of dangerous French Adonis.

  They’d clashed mightily. Deep down she’d never been so exhilarated in her life. Now they were clashing again. This time it was a battle to the death, and all the spoils would go to Olivia.

  Hunger brought Luc awake. Still disoriented from a drug-induced sleep, he opened his eyes and was surprised to discover it was dark in the cabin.

  He checked the time on his watch. Eight-fifteen. He’d been passed out for six hours— Where was Olivia? How come she’d let him sleep this long?

  Easing his leg slowly off the bed, he stood up, then had to clutch the upper bunk for a moment. Either he was having serious side effects, or a wind had come up, causing the boat to bob up and down in its berth.

  Had Olivia decided Giovanni wasn’t coming?

  If she’d realized Luc had tricked her, she might have phoned Cesar for help. Luc had no doubts the two of them would have gone off together, leaving him to deal with the situation he’d created.

  He felt for his cane resting against the wardrobe and looked out the window expecting to see the lights of Vernazza. To his shock, water surrounded the boat. The Gabbiano was at sea!

  Who was at the helm?

  For one thing, any experienced sailor would have turned on the boat’s lights by now. For another, they weren’t moving, and there was no sound of the motor.

  Leaving the cabin, he used the braille method to make his way to the stairs and ran into a soft, feminine body hurrying down the steps. The impact knocked the cane out of his hand.

  “Luc—”

  Beneath her surprised cry he detected an underlying note of anxiety. He held on to her in an effort to steady them both. Her heart was pounding so fast he couldn’t count the beats. His was thudding, too, but not for the same reason.

  During their brief moment of contact, his body became aware of every enticing line and curve molded against him. Her skin still radiated warmth from a hot Mediterranean sun that had gone down some time ago. With his face helplessly buried in her golden curls, he found himself intoxicated by the fresh peach scent emanating from her.

  Sensation after sensation bombarded him. Having been in a deep sleep and then suddenly awakened, he felt alive to the primitive side of his male nature. The part of him that recognized this particular female could have been made for him.

  If it weren’t for the fact that she was a calculating liar and cheat, incapable of being faithful to any man.

  He let her go abruptly, then felt for the panel above the stairs to switch on the power and lights.

  “So that’s where they were,” she moaned the words. “I looked everywhere but up.” She reached for his cane and handed it to him as if that moment in his arms had never happened.

  Mon Dieu. Like pure revelation it came to him she’d been playing captain of the Gabbiano. Once again he’d underestimated her. This would be the last time…

  “Unless there’s a reserve tank on board, we’re out of gas. That’s what I was coming down to tell you.”

  Her voice sounded steady enough now, but he hadn’t imagined her nervousness seconds earlier. He would never forget the way she’d clung to him for that infinitesimal moment when the darkness had stripped away her bravado.

  He found himself drawn to the alluring design of her mouth whose shape reminded him of a half-opened rose. Something told him that if he were ever fool enough to taste it, then it meant he hadn’t learned life’s most important lesson.

  “When did you decide to take matters into your own hands?”

  “This afternoon a young boy ran along the pier and informed me Giovanni wasn’t coming.”

  Luc had to give her credit for not pretending that she didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “Why couldn’t he make it?”

  She folded her arms. “Suppose you tell me? If I didn’t know better, I would think you’d set me up so I’d go back to New York and forget about my Riviera trip. You would love to see the last of me. Admit it!”

  “I admit it would be better for my brother who’s too blindsided by you and his latest win to see through to the real Mademoiselle Duchess.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “The real me?”

  “That’s right. A heartless, materialistic, ambitious vixen who does whatever comes naturally to her without any compunction. I could tell you more about yourself, but first I need to switch tanks. In the meantime you can bring me a hot dinner while I find us a cove to spend the night.”

  Vixen my foot!

  Olivia banged things around in the tiny kitchen. Heartless? Materialistic? Ambitious?

  A seer wasn’t required for Olivia to figure out what kind of women had thrown themselves at him over the years. She supposed being born a Falcon had made him and Cesar natural targets for the type of avaricious female he’d accused her of being. It had turned Luc mean and hurtful, and so suspicious of the opposite sex his natural feelings were buried.

  That’s why her sisters had tried so hard to dissuade her from chasing after him. She could understand why
. He was a thirty-three-year-old misogynist more hardened than Max before Greer came into his life.

  But not all women were opportunistic. Far from it. Whether a prince or a pauper, the majority wanted to find a great and lasting love and remain true to that one man.

  Somehow she would show Luc she was the latter.

  Instead of retaliating because of his cruel attack, she would ignore every barb and salvo intended to destroy her. When he realized she could take whatever he dished out, and that she wasn’t about to go away, he would be forced to see that her heart was pure. In time she would wear him down with her love until he had no choice but to love her back.

  Tonight he wanted a hot meal. She would get busy and give him the most scrumptious dinner she could prepare with the ingredients at hand. Now that he’d turned on the power, she could make him an omelet à la Olivia, and homemade bruschetta with the olive oil she’d seen in the cupboard.

  If he could play a French chef, so could she. Turnabout was fair play. She bet he thought she couldn’t cook worth a darn, especially not under these circumstances. Well he could think again.

  While she was preparing cappuccino, she heard the engine rev. Soon she felt the boat moving through the water once more. Thankful he’d sailed this boat before and knew where and how to navigate in the darkness, she got his plate ready and carried everything up on deck.

  He sat on the bench with the tiller in one hand, his long powerful legs extended in front of him. She noted he was still dressed in chinos and the tan sport shirt he’d worn to the hospital.

  The collar flapped against his firm jawline where she could see the shadow of his dark beard. Combined with his black hair disheveled by the sea breeze, his potent sexuality turned her insides to liquid.

  “Here you go.” She put everything on the bench next to him. His gaze darted to the food she’d fixed as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. When he finally looked up at her, she turned away and said she’d be right back. Olivia didn’t dare gloat in front of him.

  In a minute she’d rejoined him with her food and took a sip of the steaming brew. It tasted even better than she’d thought. Putting in extra sugar gave it that extra punch they could use.

  To her satisfaction she saw that he’d already swallowed half his food. Most of his coffee was gone, too.

  “More bruschetta?” She piled another couple of rounds on his plate while he finished munching the last of his.

  He flicked her penetrating glance. “How did you learn to make it?” Upon asking the question, he devoured the ones she’d given him.

  “Greer found out Max loves it, so she practiced fixing it at home. Piper and I helped.” She had to bite her lip to keep from asking him if he liked it.

  Once he’d drained the last of his coffee, he put everything aside. She expected to see some softening of his features after the feast she’d just prepared for his royal highness. Instead they’d gone all chiseled looking. His eyes pierced hers. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

  “Sort of. I was headed for Ischia.”

  “You mean you just took off and hoped for the best.”

  “Well…yes. I mean, how hard is it? The sun sets in the west, so I went east and kept the coastline in view.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his palms. She half wondered if he hadn’t wanted to shake her unconscious, and didn’t know what else to do with them. Taking out the sailboat without his knowledge had been a foolhardy, if not dangerous thing to do, and she knew it. But she’d been desperate.

  “Relax, Luc. We’re alive, safe and well fed.” If he wasn’t going to compliment her on her culinary skills, then she would.

  He lifted his head with a grimace. “You took advantage of a calm sea and ran the boat at full throttle. It drained the first tank of gas. The other one is only a reserve tank and doesn’t hold nearly as much. We’ll be damn lucky if we make it to Monte Cristo.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “You’re kidding! I’ve always wanted to go there.” She smiled. “I didn’t realize I’d brought the boat this far!”

  “As I said earlier, life is just one big game to you, but in this case it could have cost lives if another boat hadn’t seen us in the fading light. When you’re on the water, the ability to judge distances is hampered and can present serious problems.”

  She ate the last of her omelet before responding. “I came down to get you as soon as I realized we might be hard to spot. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you in your condition. If we’d run out of gas, I would have figured out how to put up the sail.”

  “There is no sail.”

  No sail?

  “But I thought that locker container—”

  “You should have looked before you took our lives into your own inexperienced hands.”

  It was the story of her life, and a reminder of her impulsive trip to Monza with Cesar. But Luc didn’t have any room to talk. “If I leaped, it’s because you led me to believe this sailboat was a worthy vessel. Your exact words!

  “If you already knew there wasn’t a sail, it means you never planned for this trip to come off in the first place, so it’s your fault if we’re stuck out here.”

  He didn’t bother to deny her accusation. To her chagrin he stared at her like she was a child having a temper tantrum. “You may end up having to row us to safety. In fact you’ll have to slip overboard and tow us to shore should we be fortunate enough to reach the island before we’re running on fumes.”

  His gaze produced a breathless sensation inside her as it wandered the length of her body still clad in the skirt and blouse she’d worn to the hospital. “I suggest you put on something more practical for the ordeal ahead.”

  Olivia’s first instinct was to engage him in another verbal skirmish, but that’s what he wanted. To make her so mad she’d go away forever at the first opportunity.

  She rose to her feet, gathering their plates and mugs. “How’s your pain? Can I bring you another pill?”

  “I’m fine right now.”

  Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t admit to it. The medication had made him sleep so soundly, he’d been unaware of what she’d done until it was too late. Naturally he didn’t plan on taking any more risks with her around.

  “How about another cappuccino?”

  “Later.”

  “That’s probably a better idea. I’ll be able to give your leg muscles a massage at the same time,” she said before disappearing below with a secret grin.

  Once she’d cleaned up the kitchen, she entered the cabin and changed into her emerald green bathing suit. It was the most modest two-piece she’d been able to find in Kingston, but that wasn’t saying much.

  On impulse she drew a navy T-shirt out of Luc’s drawer and pulled it on over her suit. It fell to mid-thigh and made her feel less exposed. After removing her sandals, she put on her sneakers.

  According to Greer who’d done the research, Monte Cristo was a rocky, uninhabited island. If she had to jump off the boat, she needed something to protect her feet.

  On the way up the stairs she heard the engine start to act up. It kind of sputtered, ran, then sputtered again before stopping altogether. She swallowed hard. They were out of gas.

  The idea of rowing didn’t appeal, but they had no choice now. She walked over to one of the benches and lifted the top.

  “What are you doing?” he asked grimly.

  “I was hoping I might find some gloves in one of these lockers. I used to do a lot of rowing with Daddy on the river and can already feel the blisters forming.”

  “You must live under a lucky star because the island’s about forty yards straight ahead. Here!” He threw her a life jacket from the bench locker where he’d been sitting. “Put it on, then grab the rope at the front end of the boat and jump in the water.

  “You’ll feel the bottom at about twenty yards. It shouldn’t be difficult to pull the boat after you and find a place to secure the rope.”

  She supposed she deserved his cavalier
treatment of her. Besides, he knew she was a strong swimmer. He’d seen her dive off the Piccione to swim twenty times that distance in order to reach the port of Lerici.

  “What about sharks?”

  He cocked his head. “I don’t recall you worrying about them before.”

  “You told me there’d been a sighting of a great white near the Marche/Abruzzo border when we were on the Piccione. It wasn’t until later I found out it wasn’t a lie.”

  “I’m glad you remembered our little chat. Be sure to slip into the water quietly. If I should see one, I’ll tell you to let go of the rope and swim like the devil for shore.”

  “That’s very reassuring.”

  It was a warm night, even with the breeze blowing from the northwest. If there was a moon, she couldn’t see it in the mist that seemed to hover around them. In fact she could barely distinguish between the water and the outline of land exposed like the back of a turtle.

  “Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll light a flare to help you see.”

  She reached for the end of the rope and made her way to the edge of the boat. “I’m waiting—”

  There was a hissing sound before light illuminated his handsome features and the water surrounding the boat. It was a surreal sight.

  She climbed up on the side and jumped, pleasantly surprised to discover the water wasn’t as cold as she’d feared. Once she’d surfaced, she struck out for the island doing the side stroke. It enabled her to tug the boat along behind her without getting tangled in it. At first she had to pull hard, but little by little she made progress.

  Luc must have known these waters well to have gauged how soon she’d be able to touch the sea floor with her sneakers. Though she would never admit it to him, once she walked on dry land, she was glad she hadn’t met with anything out there in search of prey.

  Quickly while the flare lasted, she found a good-sized rock and tied the rope the best she could. Then she shouted to Luc to toss the other rope end in the water. Within a few minutes, she’d pulled the boat around to secure it to another rock. Hopefully she’d done a good enough job that the boat wouldn’t float away from the shore during the night.