To Win His Heart. Rebecca Winters

I count the ways you destroyed the dream?” Her fingers started to tick everything off. “First, Max had us detained by the police in Genoa the second we got off the plane, then he stalked us while we walked around Portofino.

      “After that, he inveigled you and Nic to take over as the crew aboard the Piccione. At that point the three of you sabotaged our itinerary, stole the family pendants our parents gave us on our sixteenth birthday, threw us in jail, prevented us from boarding a plane home and then forced us to show up at your family’s villa to help draw out the real jewel thief.

      “The thief you didn’t catch by the way!” she mocked. “All this because you thought we’d stolen an identical pendant from the palace, which we didn’t!”

      Her fists went to her waist, drawing his piercing gaze to the curves beneath the leaf green cotton dress molding her body. “You were totally unfair to us, and now I’m here to collect. Since Max is on his honeymoon, and Nic left for London after the wedding, that leaves you to pay up.

      “You owe me, Luc! So I’ve arrived to inform you that you’re taking me for a ten-day trip on the Piccione before I go back to New York.”

      He shifted his weight, a sign his leg was probably bothering him. “You make a compelling case, but I don’t buy any of it. Why don’t you try telling me the truth for a change. What’s the real reason you’ve come to my home on a Sunday night, uninvited? Where’s Cesar?”

      “I haven’t a clue. Well, that’s not exactly true. The last time I saw him, he was at the winner’s podium kissing one beautiful groupie after another, having the time of his life.”

      For just a moment she thought she saw a shadow cross over his face, but maybe it was a light plane passing overhead, hiding the rays of a setting sun for a moment. Then he smirked. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t you take the competition?”

      “That question doesn’t deserve an answer. The truth is, I had other things on my mind. Remember the Husband Fund?”

      “What about it?” he practically snapped.

      “I’m afraid I may have hooked the wrong playboy without meaning to, and I need an out.”

      “Which playboy would that be? There’ve been so many.” His insulting remark was meant to sting. Well, she would sting him back!

      “Cesar,” she admitted.

      Luc eyed her with disdain. “I don’t see him anywhere around. Now you’ll have to excuse me.” He started to close the door.

      “Last night he said something about buying me an engagement ring after the race.”

      She’d purposely slipped in that last tidbit before he could shut her out completely. Olivia was a hundred percent sure Cesar had been joking, but Luc didn’t know that.

      “I left Monza as soon as it was over and came straight here.”

      To her satisfaction she didn’t hear the click that would have severed all contact. The door opened wider again. A stillness had stolen over Luc.

      “He asked you to marry him?” his voice grated with incredulity.

      Her instincts had been right. The idea of her becoming Luc’s sister-in-law was so repugnant to him, he was caught in a vise.

      “Isn’t that what an engagement ring means? Or is your younger brother in the habit of promising one to every groupie he fancies without any intention of delivering…”

      He raked a hand through his vibrant black hair, a gesture that indicated the news had disturbed him. Good. She hoped his concern to protect his brother from a predator like herself was great enough to agree to her plan.

      “What kind of game are you playing with him?” came the voice of ice.

      “Game?” She feigned innocence. “I admit it was exciting to be wined and dined by him for a little while. Fred got me interested in Formula I racing and I followed Cesar’s success for a long time before we ever met.

      “Meeting your brother was a great thrill. He’s a wonderful man, and he’s done everything to show me a fantastic time, but—”

      “But all along it’s been dull, boring Fred you wanted, and now you’re afraid to tell Cesar?” She felt his question like the tip of a whip against her skin.

      “No,” she came back, intrigued to discover he’d remembered an offhand comment she’d made about Fred in his hearing. “I ended it with Fred before I flew here for Greer’s wedding.”

      “How many dead bodies are lying around in that colorful past of yours?” he muttered in an acerbic tone. The wounds were growing.

      “My past is none of your business, but Cesar is.”

      A nerve ticked at the corner of his sensual mouth. “Go on!”

      “Well…Cesar knows I’m not seeing Fred anymore. So he’s not going to believe there’s another man in my life, and he would be right. But that’s not what I told him in the note I left for him at the hotel in Monza.”

      “That was like waving a red flag,” Luc drawled with contempt.

      “I thought I was being polite,” Olivia asserted. “After the race I went back to the Accademia in a taxi and dashed off a letter before checking out. It was a combination goodbye–thank you note.

      “I left it with the concierge to give to him when he came in. In it I explained that my heart belonged to another, but I wished him success in the future. Since Cesar is aware that other person isn’t Fred, I’m afraid I’ve painted myself into a corner, and now I need help.”

      Lines marred his features. “You should have thought of that before you went to bed with him.”

      “The Duchess girls don’t sleep around!”

      “That’s an interesting fairy tale.”

      She bridled. “Cesar said the same thing, so I told him to ask Max when he gets back from his honeymoon if he doesn’t believe me. Theirs was a white wedding. Why do you think they got married so fast?”

      He folded his arms. “Why are you digressing? If I’m to be of assistance to you, you have to tell me exactly how far things have progressed between you two. The truth this time.”

      “You won’t believe me if I tell you, so why should I bother.”

      “You’re still avoiding answering my question,” Luc reminded her testily. “I can assure I’m not asking out of a prurient desire to know the intimate details, just the facts. But if you don’t want my help after all…” He was a breath away from shutting the door on her.

      She had to tamp down her euphoria. Obviously the thought of his brother marrying her disgusted him enough to listen.

      “After the way you spoke to me at the wedding, do you honestly think I would darken your doorstep if I didn’t?” she challenged.

      A war was waging inside him. She knew it by the tautness of his Gallic features. “I repeat. How far did you go to accomplish what no other groupie has managed to do?” he persisted.

      “I didn’t have to do anything. He’s the one who kissed me outside my hotel room before I told him I had to go in.”

      “And you expect me to believe he did all the work?”

      Her brows knit together. “Why do you have to know that?”

      “So you did respond,” he muttered, “which means he’ll believe you were being a provocative tease.”

      She gave him a vexed look. “I couldn’t help but respond a little bit. Your brother’s the stuff a woman’s dreams are made of. But the truth is, I have no interest in being his wife. For one thing, he won’t make a good husband until his racing days are over. I’ve a feeling that day won’t come for years yet.”

      “So