One up to you, my girl.
She walked the full length of the beach, losing herself in the crowds of bathers and sunbakers who didn’t recognise her in her tracksuit and T-shirt and trainers with her hair stuffed underneath a baseball cap. She looked just like any other sporty girl out for a brisk walk along the seashore. She could have gone to one of the more private beaches on the island but she liked being amongst the people, pretending she was normal, getting a feel for how different her life would have been if she had been born a commoner. No pressure to look perfect. No one commenting on her expression or outfit. No one befriending her just because she was royal and not because of who she was inside.
Lottie was walking past the bar area at the main tourist area when she caught sight of a lean and toned male body stretched lazily out on one of the sun lounges. The glisten of sun lotion on his skin made his body look like that of a bronzed god who had just stepped off a plinth at the National Art Gallery. His abdominal muscles were like tightly rolled bands of steel, his long muscled legs with their covering of coarse hair were splayed, showing the proud heft of his masculinity beneath close-fitting black Lycra bathers. There was a colourful drink on a table by his side with one of those little paper umbrellas in it, and on the other side of him was a blonde bikini-clad girl with a tray of nibbles bending down to him with a come-and-get-me smile and a cleavage you could park a pushbike in.
Lottie blinked a couple of times. It couldn’t be. He was back in his room waiting for her to show up. She was teaching him a much-needed lesson. She was giving him a massive blow to his arrogant confidence. She was—
She frowned and peered a little more intently. Maybe it was his twin. They were identical so maybe Orsino Chatsfield had come to Preitalle and was sunning himself on the beach with blonde busty beauties waiting on him hand and foot. But then he reached for his phone as the girls screeched with excitement at the prospect of a ‘group photo.’
She ground her teeth to talcum powder.
It wasn’t his twin.
As if Lucca had sensed her looking at him he turned his dark head and smiled that gleamingly white smile. He even had the audacity to lift up his hand and give her a friendly come-and-join-me wave.
Maybe he didn’t recognise her, Lottie thought as she spun around and strode back the way she had come. Maybe he thought she was just another girl he could reel into his harem with the crook of his little finger. No one else had recognised her in this casual get-up. Why should he?
Her feet pounded the sand, faster and faster until she wasn’t walking any more but running, her breath tearing at her throat like fingernails.
She stopped at the lighthouse to check to see if he had followed her but there was no sign of him.
He was probably getting that stunning blonde to peel his grapes for him, while taking pictures of her doing so, which would no doubt end up on his Twitter feed.
Argh!
‘What have you got planned for my bachelorette party?’ Madeleine asked at breakfast the following morning.
‘Don’t worry. I’ve got it in hand.’
‘Have you consulted Lucca about it? I’m sure he’ll have some fun suggestions to make it an event to remember.’
Lottie scowled at her sister. ‘It’s my job as maid of honour to organise your hen party. I don’t need the input from some unscrupulous playboy whose idea of entertainment would no doubt include a male stripper jumping out of a cake or something.’
‘Sounds like fun.’ Madeleine grinned as she reached for the orange juice jug.
‘You can’t be serious!’ Lottie put down her cup of tea with a clatter against the saucer.
Her sister took the seat opposite and cradled her glass of juice in both of her perfectly manicured hands. ‘You’re always so serious about everything, Lottie. What harm would there be in having a little fun for a change?’
‘So … are you saying you want male strippers?’
‘No, I guess we can’t go that far, but neither do I want a sedate tea party with boring old cucumber sandwiches and scones. I want to have fun. I want it to be truly memorable. I’m not going to get married again so this is my last chance to kick my heels up as a single girl.’
Lottie chewed at the left side of her lower lip. She had a brunch party planned … strictly speaking she couldn’t even call it a party. She hadn’t planned on copious amounts of alcohol. She wasn’t sure if she could cope with a bunch of out-of-control girlfriends of her sister’s running amok so she’d kept things … well, sedate.
Madeleine reached for a fat buttery croissant and then pulled her hand back and sighed. ‘How do you keep your figure so trim? I’ve put on five pounds since I got engaged. At this rate I’m going to need a shoehorn to get into my wedding dress.’
‘At least you’ve got boobs,’ Lottie said with a despairing look at her own flat chest.
‘You just need a decent push-up bra. Speaking of lingerie … would you be a honey and choose my wedding night finery for me?’
Lottie frowned. ‘Why would you want me to do that for you? Isn’t that something you should be doing?’
Her sister smiled a twinkling smile. ‘I thought it would be good for you to do it. With help, of course.’
Help?
Help!
Lottie’s gaze went to paper-thin slits.
‘Whose help?’
Madeleine reached out again and this time took the croissant from the basket and tore it into bite-size pieces. ‘I’ve asked Lucca to help you. He wants to go to Monte Carlo on Wednesday on some private errand of his. I didn’t ask him the details. I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it. He’s a bit of a dark horse, don’t you think?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but continued. ‘I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to go with him. You haven’t been off the island in ages and with him as an escort you won’t have to bother with having your own security guard.’
‘I’m not going anywhere with him!’
Madeleine finished chewing her mouthful of croissant before asking, ‘Why ever not?’
‘How can you ask that? I hate him! He’s a disreputable rake.’
‘What? Are you frightened he might make a move on you or something?’ She picked up another morsel of croissant and popped it into her mouth and chewed. Swallowed. ‘You should be so lucky.’
Lottie pushed her chin up in a gesture of female pride. ‘As it happens he did make a move on me.’
Madeleine’s eyes rounded with interest.
‘Do tell.’
‘He kissed me.’
‘And?’
‘He propositioned me.’
Madeleine
