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ALAIN MANEUVERED HIS white McLaren roadster through the narrow twisting streets and tall buildings of Monaco on the same roads he’d rocketed through just a couple of days ago. After a massage and steam bath the evening before, he’d mostly recovered from the beating his body had taken during the Monaco Grand Prix.
Today he was looking forward to cruising through the French countryside to Provence with Dahlia. No other woman had ever affected him like she did, so he wanted to get to know her better. He might be on top of his career now, but it would not last forever.
Was Dahlia the one he could spend his life with? It was too soon to tell, but she seemed like a woman who could be a partner, not a trophy wife, although she was certainly attractive enough to be mistaken for one.
As he t
