Chapter 13
The Roar of the Beast
“Good morning, Miss Blanchett.”
Morning sunlight shimmered in the man’s pale gray-blue eyes.
“Hello,” Olivia replied shortly.
As she answered, the central fountain in the rose garden spouted water.
The sudden splash startled Olivia, her shoulders rising and falling in a twitch.
Why did she keep running into this man? Olivia sighed inwardly.
Avoiding his gaze, she fixed her eyes on the hotel’s side entrance.
Please, come quickly, Elaine.
The fountain activated every hour starting at 8 a.m., which meant the appointed time with Elaine had nearly arrived. But Elaine had yet to appear.
Nervously scanning the surroundings in case a passerby showed up, she heard the man speak again. Her gaze shifted to him involuntarily.
“Let’s sit and wait together. I’m waiting on someone too.”
His cheerful smile put Olivia in an awkward spot.
He made her strangely uncomfortable. Partly because he naturally drew others’ attention.
She wanted to leave right away. If it hadn’t been for her promise to Elaine, she might’ve done just that. After a moment’s hesitation, Olivia turned to Anne.
“Could you go check what’s keeping Miss Elaine?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Worried they might miss each other in the meantime, Olivia reluctantly sat across from Edgar on a vine-covered bench. An awkward silence settled in as a staff member poured lemon water into glasses.
Olivia once again scanned the area. Thankfully, it was still early morning.
“Do you like tennis?” he asked in a gentle voice.
Only then did her restless, watchful eyes finally settle on Edgar.
“I play sometimes when I have the time.”
“You seem better than ‘sometimes.’”
“I suppose I’m fairly athletic.”
Suddenly parched, Olivia took a sip of lemon water and set her glass down.
“Who taught you?”
With one leg casually crossed, the man rested his elbow on the armrest and lightly traced his eye with long fingers. The faint scent of his skin in the morning breeze was refreshing.
Olivia, caught mid-swallow, suddenly choked. She coughed harshly, her face flushing bright red.
“…My husband.”
Edgar’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Olivia quickly corrected herself.
“I mean, he arranged for a coach.”
After all, the Johann Leopold that both she and this man knew was hardly the type to play leisurely tennis with his wife.
Only then did Edgar nod subtly.
Catching her breath, Olivia turned her head toward the large fountain in the garden to avoid his gaze. The spring-blooming rose garden looked like a world apart in its beauty.
“That coach must’ve been terrible.”
“Terrible?” she snapped, bristling.
“Your posture was all wrong. You waste a lot of unnecessary energy. Don’t you think?”
He commented with a hint of sarcasm, lips curled in a laid-back smile.
“I don’t know what you mean. The person who taught me was an excellent instructor,” Olivia replied firmly, staring directly at him with a gaze that brooked no argument.
Suddenly, she imagined the hum of cicadas on a summer’s day.
She remembered him—tanned from the sun, in a crisp white polo shirt with the collar up, short shorts revealing muscular calves, leaping high into the air.
A crush. That shallow emotion had once made her heart race—and ache.
She still recalled how loudly her heart had pounded whenever his hands corrected her posture, lightly brushing against her.
Remembering those moments, she couldn’t help the warmth rising in her cheeks or the quickening of her heartbeat.
“Want to test how great that coaching really was?”
His playful voice snapped her out of her reverie.
“I don’t play matches with predetermined outcomes,” Olivia replied stiffly, casting her eyes toward the path where Anne had disappeared. She desperately hoped her maid would return soon. It looked like she wouldn’t be using the free tennis court anymore after today.
“Just one set. If you win a single game, you win overall.”
Though his tone was casual, his expression was mischievous.
“You can surely win one game, right? Since your coach was so ‘excellent.’ Or maybe not?”
Olivia glanced from the man to the west wing’s entrance. His confidence was annoying.
“Too difficult?” he teased.
His fresh smile twisted into a grin, and Olivia’s eyes suddenly burned with fire.
“Three games.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly.
“That would be fair.”
Olivia flashed a radiant smile.
Provoked, she stepped onto the court. Her eyes sparkled with competitive fire, like the blazing summer sun.
Fierce…
He chuckled under his breath at her intensity.
Edgar took the racket handed to him by an attendant. It bore the autograph of Prince Dumblin and had been a gift for his eighth birthday.
Swinging the racket a few times, he walked onto the court. Across the net, Olivia Blanchett was watching him.
He walked up to the net. She raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong, getting nervous?”
“No,” he said, barely suppressing a smile.
“But a match isn’t any fun without a wager.”
“Don’t turn a clean game into gambling,” she warned.
“That part of your excellent coaching too?”
“Do you like gambling?”
“Somewhat. I do run a casino, after all.”
Edgar gave her a lopsided smile.
“I have nothing to wager.”
“Oh, it doesn’t have to be anything grand. Just a small wish.”
Her blue eyes wavered, calculating.
“What, not confident?”
“What kind of wish?”
“If I told you now, it wouldn’t be fun. If you’re curious, lose.”
He turned away, lips curled in a smirk. Then—pang!—the game began with the sound of a ball being struck.
Meanwhile…
Oh my God! Is that who I think it is?
Elaine’s eyes widened.
It was the Edgar Lancaster Lancelot and Olivia Blanchett.
When Anne had come to her room, Elaine had just finished getting ready. She wasn’t the type to rush people over being ten minutes late, so she’d been curious.
“Add a little whiskey to the lemon water, just enough for fragrance.”
Even as she gave her order to the staff, her eyes were fixed on the tennis court.
She didn’t know when the match had started, but it couldn’t have been long. Yet Edgar was already three games ahead.
Elaine wasn’t a tennis expert, but even a layperson could tell—it was a one-sided match, with Edgar clearly going easy on her.
He could’ve ended it anytime but toyed with his prey instead, like a cat with a caught mouse. Still, he occasionally let her score, showing gentlemanly restraint.
“Forty!”
The score was now 5–1. Olivia, having lost another game, came over to the bench.
“What happened?”
Elaine handed her a towel Anne had been holding.
“Exactly what it looks like.”
Olivia, red-faced, forced a bitter smile and wiped her forehead with the towel. Then she gulped some ice water. As she began to unbutton her blouse, Anne freaked out and grabbed her hand.
“No, my lady!”
Anne quickly rebuttoned the top two buttons and fanned Olivia with both hands. But Olivia’s cheeks were still flushed.
“Don’t tell me… you made a bet?”
“How did you know?”
Surprised, Olivia rubbed the cold glass against her cheek.
“It’s written all over your face—‘I won’t lose!’”
They chuckled together. Just then, the whistle signaling the end of the break echoed through the quiet hotel grounds.
Later…
“So this is where you disappeared to this morning. Traitor.”
A few idle playboys who’d spent the night drinking at the hotel club wandered over and slumped around Edgar. Still smelling of whiskey, they ordered more whiskey sodas out of habit.
“Isn’t it a little underhanded to go all out against a lady?”
Edgar glanced at Olivia without answering, a faint smile on his lips. It was his first time playing tennis with a woman.
He found it regrettable that he hadn’t discovered such pleasure before. It was a different kind of thrill—one that no bed could compare to.
“Hey, did the ball hit you in the head?”
Her brown hair tied in a neat ribbon bounced in front of his eyes. The moment she picked up a racket, she came alive. And those wild shrieks…
Unexpectedly, Edgar burst into laughter.
“We’re the ones who lost money, so why are you acting crazy?”
While the others lamented their losses from yesterday’s card games, the whistle blew again.
Well then. Time to go win that wish.
Edgar uncrossed his long legs and slowly stood up, eyes fixed ahead.
As Olivia stepped onto the court again, the hem of her white skirt fluttered. Her soft hair danced in the spring breeze, the scent of flowers swirling around her.
She looked like a fairy on the court.
A fairy burning with competitive fire.
Moments later—
Edgar, who had expected to finish quickly, was clearly rattled.
She had changed.
Her returns were sharper. Her serves became aggressive, sending the ball where he least expected.
Ha! So the lady who dislikes gambling is now taking chances with curveballs?
After a careless mistake, Edgar tightened his grip on the racket.
Her indomitable will, returning shots sent to the far edges, deserved applause.
The score stood at 5–2. Whoever took the next game would win.
Edgar thought it would be easy.
But—what the?!
Preparing for her serve, Olivia casually unbuttoned her blouse.
Behind her, her maid gasped. Behind Edgar, the playboys whistled and hollered.
Ha!
Breathless, Edgar was struck with awe.
She even took off her pale pink shoes and tossed them off-court.
Shrill whistles and Anne’s horrified cry of “My lady!” rang out across the green lawn.
