At least here they would be protected from the many cruise ships and large ocean-going yachts and tankers passing back and forth in the night.
By the time she’d swum to the boat, the flare had burned out. Luc lowered the ladder over the side for her. She grabbed hold of it and swung herself up. He surprised her by gripping her waist to ease her to the deck.
“You shouldn’t have done that!” she cried in a shaky voice. His touch had sent what felt like an electric current running through her body. “Your leg!”
As he slowly removed his hands, they seemed to trail over her hips before letting her go. “No harm was done. I put all the weight on my good one.”
“Nevertheless you shouldn’t have had so much activity this soon after leaving the hospital. Let’s get you off your feet and back to bed.” She handed him his cane and followed him below.
He nodded toward the bathroom. “You use the shower first.” There was an underlying tone of authority in his suggestion that tolerated no argument.
“I’ll get my things.”
When she went to move past him, the confines of the passageway were so tight, her body brushed against the hardness of his. Her breath caught to feel his flesh and blood warmth. She didn’t let it out until she reached the cabin and rummaged in the drawer for a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt she would wear to bed.
On her way back out, Luc had cleared the doorway leaving space between them. She moaned inwardly, wishing he were still in the way so she could experience the thrill of the contact of their bodies again, no matter how brief.
Once she reached the bathroom and closed the door, she clung to the sink for something to hold on to until her trembling stopped.
Earlier in the day she’d put their toiletries in the cabinet. After a few minutes of attempting to get herself under some semblance of control, she took a shower and washed the seawater out of her hair.
Several towels were folded above the cabinet. She pulled one down and wrapped it around her wet curls. Then she rinsed out her swimsuit and Luc’s T-shirt before leaving them over the towel rack to dry.
The last thing she did was brush her teeth before going to the kitchen to fix Luc another cappuccino. When she entered the bedroom, she discovered he’d changed out of his clothes and was half-lying on the bottom bunk wearing one of the pairs of cutoffs she’d packed for him.
“Here you go.”
He took the mug from her. “You’re not having any?”
“Too much caffeine makes me restless this time of night.” She got down on her haunches. It put their eyes at the same level. His gleamed like sterling silver in the cabin light. “Where shall I begin your massage? How does it have to be done? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Before answering her, he drank his coffee, then set the mug on the floor. “I think I’ll forego the experience tonight.”
She eyed him anxiously. “Because you’re in too much pain?”
He seemed to hesitate, as if choosing his words carefully. “Because you’ve done enough for one night.”
Olivia sucked in her breath. “What you really mean is, I put our lives in danger today and you wish me thousands of miles away from here.”
His head went back against the pillow, but his eyes remained trained on her. “Since it’s a moot point, what I wish doesn’t matter.”
Luc was covering up for his discomfiture. “You’re hurting, aren’t you,” she persisted.
“No. It’s only a mild irritation.” He sounded as if he meant it, but she would never know for sure. “The doctor drew fluid out of my knee in several places. It relieved pressure that’s been building, Dieu merci.”
She inspected the visible signs of the operation done on him months earlier, then raised her eyes to his once more. “Cesar said you almost lost your leg. Thank God you didn’t!”
“I was very fortunate.” He put one arm behind his head. “The doctors were able to reattach the severed nerves, restoring circulation. Exercise and massages did the rest.”
“Are you sure I can’t rub your leg down?”
“Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
Olivia shook her head. “What a ghastly ordeal that must have been for you.”
“It was worse for Nic.”
She shuddered. “Cesar told me about his fiancée. I can’t imagine losing someone I loved, let alone in such a horrible accident.”
Luc didn’t respond to that, but she felt his emotional withdrawal. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Of course not. I’m sorry. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go to bed?”
“Shut off the light.”
CHAPTER FIVE
FOR a few moments there they’d actually been conversing without her feeling Luc’s animosity. But as soon as Olivia had brought Cesar into the conversation, a barrier slid into place like one of those cloaking devices in a science fiction movie.
It hurt to be shut out so totally. As she started to get up, her towel unraveled, revealing a head of damp, unruly curls before it fell to the floor. When she reached for it, she heard him whisper something unintelligible.
“You are in pain.”
“Give it a rest, Olivia.”
He’d delivered his last comment with an edge intended to warn her off. She wouldn’t be learning anything more from him tonight. Defeated for the time being, she retraced her steps to the bathroom and hung up her towel.
On the way back to the cabin, she made a detour to the kitchen for more mineral water and his pills. “I’ll put these on the floor by your bed in case you need them.”
Without expecting a response, she shut off the cabin light. There was a ladder at the end of the beds. She climbed it to the top bunk and eased herself beneath the covers.
“Luc?”
When she heard the expletive that came out of him, she winced.
“Doesn’t that wild Duchess brain of yours ever shut down for one second?”
“It can’t when I know we’re out of gas.”
“Someone will come by eventually.”
“To this deserted place? What if we run out of food first?”
“You saw Giovanni’s fishing gear. You can catch us our meals. If that doesn’t appeal, you could always swim to Elba for help.”
Olivia blinked. “How far away is it?”
“It might take you an hour.”
An hour—
“If it’s too much of a challenge—”
“I’ll do it if I have to, but first I think we should try to flag down a passing boat. I know—we’ll set off another flare to get their attention.”
“I’m afraid I used the only one left to help you see what you were doing.”
“I already knew what I was doing! You should have saved it for an emergency,” she grumbled.
A taunting laugh escaped his throat. “That from the woman who stole out of Vernazza without a map, compass, or a clue as to what you were doing.”
“I got us this far didn’t I?”
“You don’t really want me to answer that question, do you?”
She turned on her other side and pounded her pillow.
“Look on the bright side, mademoiselle. Tomorrow you can hunt for buried treasure. Your Riviera trip doesn’t have to be a complete loss.”
“The Count of Monte Cristo already found it.” She fumed. “Besides, I saw the movie, and it was filmed in the Maltese Islands.”
“I’ve been there on the Piccione.”
She lifted her head, alert because he’d offered something without her having to pry it out of him. “When?”
“Several years ago.”
Olivia tried to sit up all the way, but her head bumped the ceiling of the cabin. She lay back down again. “You and Fabio must go back a long way.”
“The Piccione was Max’s boat before he gave it to Fabio.”
Gave it— She bumped her head again. “He must have had a good reason to part with anything so fabulous.”
“The best of reasons
. Fabio and his whole family fished for a living. His parents, their fishing boat, everything was lost at sea during a violent storm. Max was close friends with him growing up. Knowing he had a pregnant wife and two brothers to support, he let him have the boat to establish a charter business.”
Olivia’s throat closed up with raw emotion. Did Greer know that piece of information about her remarkable husband?
“By your silence, I realize that kind of generosity is anathema to you. It may surprise you even more to learn that Fabio has paid Max back every lire for it through hard work.”
Luc’s stinging barbs found their mark, but she’d promised herself she wouldn’t rise to the bait.
“Thank you for confiding in me. Before you gave me this insight into Max, I loved him because my sister loved him. But now, I love my new brother-in-law for my own reasons. You’ve given me a priceless gift. It has been worth taking all the abuse you’ve heaped my way.”
“Material things matter much more to you than I thought. Work it right, and you’ll be able to benefit from Max’s generosity for years to come, Cesar or no Cesar.”
It was such a heartless comment, she groaned into her pillow.
There had to be a way to reach Luc. He wasn’t born believing the worst about people. That world-weary derisiveness he wore like a shroud was the result of one terrible act against him.
Piper had been told what it was, but there was no way to reach her without a phone.
Greer knew the truth, yet until she returned from her honeymoon and could enlighten Olivia, the status quo would continue to prevail with Luc who was well ensconced in his invisible fortress, withdrawn and utterly impervious.
She flipped over on her back, wide awake. Her immediate problem was to figure out how they were going to get off this island anytime soon. If no one came by to help them tomorrow, they could always start out the next day by rowing.
It would be hard going with only one oar, but they might not have any other choice. Unless she could find something on the island she could use for another paddle…
As she took mental stock of their provisions, she realized they only had enough food for a couple of days, if they were careful. Part of the excitement of a trip like this was to go ashore each day at a different heavenly spot. She’d planned to buy various items in the local markets of the ports and bring them back to the boat to cook and eat.
In the event that it might be several days before they could get more gas and food, she would act on Luc’s suggestion and fish for their breakfast in the morning.
She was no novice to the sport. Her dad had been an expert fly fisherman. He’d taught a lot of tricks to his daughters, his precious pigeons as he’d loved to call them.
Along with their mom they’d done a lot of outdoor activities at one of his favorite lakes in the Adirondacks. Tomorrow she would get up with the sun and find out just how good a pupil she’d been.
Relieved to have a plan, any plan, Olivia rolled over on her stomach praying sleep would come so she wouldn’t be tempted to climb down the ladder and seek comfort from Luc. In the mood he was in, she could easily imagine him strangling her with his bare hands.
Hands that had grasped her waist and hips earlier tonight to haul her into the boat. Hands she could have sworn had lingered for an overly long moment against her wet skin. She still felt feverish from their warmth.
“Knock, knock. Ready or not, I’ve brought you breakfast in bed.”
Luc had been in that hazy place where one hovered between waking and sleeping. When he opened his eyes, he discovered the sun was already well up in the sky. Olivia walked toward him with a mug in one hand, a plate of food in the other. Even out of the sun, her curls gleamed like spun gold.
“On a scale of one to ten, ten being highest, what’s your pain level this morning?” Her cheery disposition irritated the hell out of him.
“Minus one.”
“If that’s true, then why the scowl on your face? Don’t you know it takes more muscles to frown than smile?”
Ciel! On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest for the most exasperating, impossible female he’d ever known, she rated a twenty!
That tantalizing body of hers was dressed in the same shorts and shirt she’d worn to bed last night. Among their many gifts, the Duchess triplets were blessed with long shapely legs. No one was more aware of that fact than Luc as she approached looking wide-awake, and for want of a better word…exhilarated.
“It’s another gorgeous day.” She put his coffee on the floor next to him. “I’ve been up for hours watching for a passing boat to wave down, but so far no luck.”
He eased his back against the wall so he could take the plate from her. The mouthwatering aroma of grilled fish hot off the skillet wafted past his nostrils. His eyes took in the expert presentation of toast points and orange slices arranged as if he’d just been served the pièce de résistance at a five-star restaurant.
One bite of the delicious, light flaky meat expertly filleted, seasoned and sauteed in olive oil, and he shot her a questioning glance. “This is fresh sea bass!”
“That’s right. I caught it a little while ago. There was a school of juvenile fish playing around the rocks. We don’t have to worry about starving to death before we’re rescued.”
If he didn’t know for a fact there was no freezer on board to keep fish on ice, he wouldn’t have believed her. She’d actually found food for them and could prepare it like a master chef?
“There are four more fillets in the pan, so if you want refills just holler. I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up.” She took away the mineral water bottle he’d drained during the night.
With the combined flavor of the oranges, fish had never tasted so good to him before. Even the coffee was different. She’d added cocoa. He devoured everything between mouthfuls of the steaming brew, stunned by her resourcefulness and a lot of other things he wasn’t disposed to examine right now.
A few minutes later she reappeared in the doorway. “More?”
“No. I’ll eat the rest for lunch.”
“Whatever you say. When I come back, I’ll give you that massage.”
His muscles had tightened up on him during the night. A massage would feel good. He removed the covers and turned over on his stomach so his injured leg would be closest to her.
Soon he felt her presence as she knelt at the side of the bunk. The subtle flowery fragrance from the soap she used in the shower drifted in his direction, intoxicating him.
“Okay. I’m ready for your instructions.”
“Start with my foot and knead your way up my calf, but no farther.”
“All right.” She molded her hand to his heel and began to caress the pad with gentle insistence. Her nimble fingers seemed to know instinctively where to rub using the right pressure. With slow deliberation, she worked her magic from his toes to his calf.
He didn’t have to tell her to use the flat of her palm to wiggle the fleshy part, thereby loosening those muscles. Her touch was instinctive. He could feel its healing effect as his whole body began to relax.
“How am I doing?”
Luc was afraid to tell her. He didn’t dare admit it to himself. “If you did this service for Cesar before the race, then I can understand why he would want you around.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said without missing a breath. Her glib response frustrated him no end. “Would you like your neck and shoulders massaged, too?”
She’d probably done all this and more for his brother. Luc sucked in his breath. “Just keep up what you’re doing for a minute longer, and I won’t require another session until bedtime.”
“What about your water therapy?”
“I’ll go for a brief swim later in the day after my lunch has digested.”
“We’ll both swim. In the meantime, you can read the latest thriller I brought with me while I go hunting for treasure.”
He lifted his head. “Owing to the fact that the fabulous
fortune buried in the grotto of Monte Cristo didn’t exist outside Dumas’s imagination, I thought you’d given up on the idea.”
“Wasn’t it you who told me ‘all that glitters isn’t gold’?” Her hand gave him a final pat. “There may be treasure lurking here not instantly recognizable to the naked eye.”
To his chagrin she stood up, thereby ending these few moments of sheer physical pleasure. “I understand from Greer the island only takes up six square miles. I probably won’t be gone exploring for more than a couple of hours. While I’m away, you can shower and read at your leisure. I’ve left the book on the dresser.”
Olivia Duchess never did anything without an agenda. What was she up to now? “Good luck spouse hunting,” he muttered as she started to leave the cabin.
She paused in the doorway. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll run into a heartthrob who’s scuba diving off his yacht.”
After she disappeared, he eased himself out of bed with the help of his cane and walked over to the window to survey the situation.
In a minute he saw her splashing through the water to the shore. She took the time to inspect the ropes still tied by the rocks before she began her jog around the desolate island.
It didn’t matter that the surface resembled the moonscape. At this point Luc was beginning to realize this woman was a self-starter who made her own luck. Nothing kept her down. No hill was too hard for her to climb.
Her resilience under stress was almost as astounding as her fearless predilection for attempting the impossible and getting away with it. Only the Duchess sisters could have made their escape out the second-story window of his parents’ villa in the middle of the night without making a sound or injuring themselves.
He might even have admired her daring if he hadn’t known she’d risked life and limb to watch Cesar race in the Grand Prix a few hours later.
Luc’s brother had been so flattered to learn that he was the sole reason she’d come to Monaco—that she’d tossed her American lover aside for him—it was no wonder he couldn’t see through her master plan which had been to become Madame Cesar de Falcon.
To Win His Heart Page 7
