love. Besides he despised the look of older men with much younger women hanging off their arms. He thought them pathetic and believed such relationships merely provided an entrée to financial grief.
There had only ever been one true love in Caesar’s life, and that had been many, many years ago. Even though the relationship had been brief, his heart had been crushed so completely he had never recovered enough to trust or love another woman again.
However, it didn’t stop him from admiring the graceful curves beneath Eloise’s pale pink wrap-around dress. One could never deny she was a ballerina; it was just that today she wore a more elegant outfit, appropriate to the circumstances.
Caesar found himself reflecting that it was a shame his father wasn’t here; he’d always appreciated beauty, even though he’d never really respected women. (This remained a sore point between father and son – though Caesar had to admit he was growing more cynical about relationships himself these days.)
The relentless onset of Alzheimer’s ensured that Antonio King was now essentially a prisoner within the grounds of his Sussex mansion, under the constant care of Nurse Victoria. Caesar tried to mask the constant worry he carried for his father, his ever-present poker face allowing him to effectively shield his true feelings from others. Winning substantial amounts of money always proved an excellent distraction for Caesar, so whenever his emotions threatened him, he deliberately increased the stakes, hoping the euphoria of winning would provide the ultimate high and deaden the feeling of loneliness that sometimes seeped through.
More than his many other business dealings, his intriguing Number One Strategy was proving an excellent tonic for his emotional state. The smile returned to his face as he considered the money he had made already, knowing that was only a pittance compared with what was to come, particularly after today’s match was won.
And Eloise was just where he wanted her for this momentous match. She was ever discreet and softly spoken in conversation – features he always appreciated in a woman yet rarely found – but he was fascinated that she had mentioned nothing to him of her week in London with Noah. He wondered if she honestly believed he wasn’t aware of her every move on any given day.
He sighed inwardly. She might be beautiful, but she was still so young and unworldly. Even so, as long as she honoured her end of the deal, he would always honour his.
In the meantime, however, there was far too much at stake for her to be roaming around aimlessly as she had been with Noah Levique – of all people – when Ivan disappeared into an emotional hole after his loss at Wimbledon. Caesar’s sources had mentioned nothing of a relationship between Noah and Eloise before she was offered the contract. Only time would tell if she was being secretive or merely naive in her actions; he didn’t know her well enough yet to say. But either way, if she honestly believed her contract with him allowed her that much freedom – with a tennis player he didn’t represent, no less – she was sorely mistaken. This was the sort of inside information he depended on – indeed, was betting on, and not insignificantly! It was time to stalk his prey a little more closely …
‘Lovely to see you again, Eloise. How are you?’
‘Very well, thanks, Caesar. And you?’
‘Couldn’t be better. Nothing more exciting than the potential changing of the guard, don’t you think?’ There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said the words and nodded to the waiter to refill her glass.
Talking to Caesar when her life could be about to change was making Eloise nervous, so she made a deliberate attempt to remain as polite and calm as possible, carefully considering her answers before she spoke.
‘How have things been with Ivan?’ he asked.
‘Well, as you’d be aware, he hasn’t quite been himself since the loss at Wimbledon, and now with his injury and all …’
‘I know. Poor chap, things haven’t gone his way recently. So what’s been keeping you occupied?’
Eloise’s nerves shifted a gear but fortunately her voice remained steady.
‘Taking in the sights; there’s always plenty to do in New York.’
She offered nothing more, and he decided to let the matter rest, for now. ‘Indeed there is. So tell me, what are your thoughts on these two players?’
‘I’m no expert on tennis, Caesar; you’d know far better than I would.’
He silently congratulated her on her answer: sticking to generalities rather than getting personal. Perhaps she had more intelligence than he’d given her credit for.
‘Yes, yes, quite right.’ He chuckled. ‘Then let me phrase my question more succinctly. Would you prefer a change, or for your circumstances to remain as they are?’
She paused before answering, unsure of what he was hoping to hear. ‘My preference is irrelevant, Caesar. I will accept whatever happens; that’s the commitment I’ve made.’
‘I’m very pleased to hear that you’re taking the contract as seriously as I am. I’m not one for deviations once something has been agreed. Enjoy the game, Eloise; heaven knows I shall.’
With a clink of his glass and a cheerful wink that belied the veiled threat in his words, he excused himself to go and chat with his other guests as the pre-match tension rose steadily around them.
The knots in Eloise’s stomach tightened as the two players entered the stadium and applause instantly erupted. Noah came out first, and the crowd enthusiastically welcomed the new kid on the block. Though he was smiling and waving, everyone could sense his nervousness at being in his first grand-slam final. Eloise beamed with pride, hoping he’d received her message and small gift. Caesar didn’t miss a single twitch of her expressive face from the other side of the room.
The cheering changed when Stephan Nordstrom appeared on the court, sporting his sponsored Maui Jim sunglasses. The newly appointed tennis superstar acknowledged the crowd with a brief nod before immediately getting down to the business of ensuring the brands of his clothes, racquets and even his drink bottles were facing the right way for maximum exposure. It took three attempts for him to find the racquet with the perfect string tension, then he carefully placed the other two back in his sponsored sports bag, ensuring they were in the exact position he wanted them. Some might have called him obsessive–compulsive – and many had, often – but the sponsors Caesar had secured on his behalf would handsomely reward such meticulousness.
Once these actions were performed, he sat perfectly still, more focused than a neurosurgeon about to make his first incision. It was as if the crowd no longer existed in his mind. The look on his face made it clear that Nordstrom was here for one reason only.
To dominate and to win.
Eloise’s nerves electrified as she was torn between her excitement at the prospect of a new Number One particularly a Swedish god like Stephan – and wanting to protect her gorgeous Noah from such a tour de force. Though beaming at Noah, she found herself drawn to Stephan, wondering if he was as domineering in person as he was on court. She watched in awe along with thousands of other fans as he sat trance-like in his seat before the announcer summoned the players onto the court for their warm-up.
Eloise desperately hoped the knot in her stomach would ease when play commenced.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Transition
The entire match lasted a little over an hour – much to the disappointment of the crowd, some of whom had paid a small fortune just to witness a wipeout.
There was no opportunity for Eloise to find Noah and offer her condolences on losing so catastrophically in straight sets. Realistically, she had no idea how she could even have attempted to locate him, given the security around the stadium. Since her brief conversation with Caesar she had sensed he was watching her every move, so she didn’t