Chances

by Jackie Collins

  “How dare they set foot in my hotel,” she flashed. “I want them thrown out… now.”

  “Let the bums stay. The evening is nearly over. Why spoil it with those turds? Don’t worry, they won’t come back. I’ll deal with it for you—they’ll know not to come back. My favor.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Enzio.” She glanced once more over at Rudolpho Crown’s table. What a pig he was. He deserved to have his prick cut off.

  It was four o’clock in the morning, and the party was still going strong. But Lucky knew it was time to leave. She sought out Costa and whispered, “I’m going to bed. It was a fantastic evening, wasn’t it?”

  “Wonderful!”

  “Why are you hanging around anyway? It’s long past your bedtime.”

  “I want to be able to tell Gino about this night from start to finish. I plan to stay until the last person leaves.”

  Gino. Gino. Gino. Goddamn Costa for always reminding her.

  “Sure, have fun,” she said coolly. “See you tomorrow.”

  She took the private elevator to her penthouse apartment. Boogie silently accompanied her, checked out the place for any intruders, then returned to his room in the back. His quarters were separate, but if she needed him all she had to do was press any one of several strategically-placed panic buttons and he would be there within seconds.

  Her mind was whirling. Why had Rudolpho brought the Kassari twins to her hotel? What did Dario want? Had she been right to dismiss Warris Charters without a second thought?

  She kicked off her Charles Jourdan shoes and selected an album to play. Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. The warm sensual sounds filled the apartment, relaxing her.

  How long would it take Marco to appear? Five minutes? Ten? Certainly no longer.

  With a deft flick of her wrist she undid a hook, and her expensive Halston fell to the floor. She picked it up, walked into her bedroom, and selected her oldest and most favorite denim work shirt from the closet. It was the same shirt she had been wearing for ten years. Marco had seen her in it often… but not recently.

  In the bathroom she carefully removed every bit of makeup, took off her jewelry, vigorously brushed her long dark hair and braided it neatly. She looked fourteen years old. Scrubbed and clean and prepared to face the man she had loved for so many years.

  When he knocked on her door she was ready. “What took you so long?” she asked softly.

  “I was only fifteen minutes…. Hey, look at you. What have you done?”

  She grinned. “I put the clock back. Like it? You’re seeing the real me.”

  He looked perplexed. This was not the sensual beauty he had been with minutes before. This was a young girl he hadn’t seen in a long time. “Jesus, you look like a little kid.”

  “That’s what you used to call me, you and Gino.”

  He was completely thrown.

  She put her hands on her hips and faced him: long bare tanned legs spread apart, head on one side, a dangerous glint in her black eyes. “Hey, mister, you wanna play doctor?”

  He laughed. “You’re nuts. You’re making me feel like a dirty old man.”

  “So come on. Be dirty. Tonight’s an exception. If you stay married, no more exceptions.”

  “Lucky.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her very very slowly.

  She responded with ten years of passion, her tongue exploring his lips, teeth, the inside of his mouth. She felt his body against her grow satisfyingly hard. “Let’s make tonight an exception to remember,” she whispered.

  They continued to kiss, until lazily, without hurrying, his hands drifted down to her breasts, holding them through the denim shirt, tracing their outline, feeling for the nipples and rolling them through the worn material.

  “Nice,” she murmured. “Veree veree nice.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Oh, I will… I will!”

  He undid her shirt slowly but didn’t attempt to take it off, just let it hang open while his hands roamed around inside.

  “You’re driving me insane!” she said at last. “Let’s get naked and get it over with.”

  “I’m not the dentist, for crissake.”

  “Oh, God, Marco! I can’t wait. I’ve waited ten fucking years.”

  He acted so quickly she hardly knew what had hit her. His clothes were off, she was over his shoulder and dumped on the middle of the bed, and he was inside her screwing her with an intensity that made her nervous for his health.

  Then all at once she didn’t care about his health—or anything else, for that matter. She was coming so hard and so fast that she thought she might die of pleasure. And he was coming too, with a roar of delight. They were bathed in sweat, joined together, and both laughing.

  “Don’t ever order me around again,” he said. “Look where it gets you.”

  “Everywhere I’ve always wanted to be.” She propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him. His body was deeply tanned and covered with a smattering of black hair. Lightly she ran her fingers over his chest. “Do you know how long this has been my dream? Do you have any idea?”

  He shook his head and smiled.

  She brought her mouth down onto his chest and began to featherkiss him. Across his nipples, over his stomach, down toward his cock, which immediately began to show signs of life. She paused before taking him into her mouth. “What about you, Marco? How long have you wanted me? When I was a kid, when you used to drive me around—did you want me then? Did you lust after my girlish body?”

  “You were the biggest pain in the ass I ever met.”

  She took his half-aroused cock into her mouth and carefully dug her teeth in.

  Panic hit his face. “Hey!”

  Innocently she said, “I’m not going to bite it off. Why would I do a nasty thing like that?”

  He sat up and bundled her into his arms and began to kiss her again. Truthfully she could admit that she had never enjoyed kissing before. With Marco it was something else. The tip of his tongue was a real weapon of pleasure, and when he left her mouth alone and brought it down to her nipples, she knew she had died and gone to heaven. Words of love wanted to pour out of her mouth. But she knew she must wait. He was still married. Goddamn it! Why was he still married?

  She pushed him away and reached for a cigarette, at the same time pulling up a sheet to cover herself.

  “Did you know the Kassari twins were here tonight?” she asked tightly.

  “Yes.” His voice was guarded. “I didn’t want to spoil your evening.”

  “If someone had told me earlier, we could have had them thrown out.”

  “Sure. And had Rudolpho screaming about his friends being badly treated. It was an accident. I guess he didn’t know.”

  “Enzio said he’ll make sure he does know.”

  “Good.” He extracted the cigarette from between her fingers and deposited it in the ashtray. Then he peeled down the sheet. “Come here, kid.”

  The second time they made love was leisurely and thrilling. Gradually they were starting to know each other’s bodies—which positions, pressures, angles pleased; which didn’t.

  She watched him like she had never watched a man before. His eyes were greenish gray with thick black lashes. His hands were big. His body hard—no soft places. She found a scar on his thigh and wanted to know how it had got there. He started to talk about his life. It was the first time he had opened up to her, and she was drinking in every minute. She heard about the things he had done, the restlessness he had always felt until his mother encouraged him to go to Gino. Marco shrugged. “She was right. I hadn’t seen him in years—yet he welcomed me back like I was his son. He’s a great man. You must be proud he’s your father.”

  She had never discussed her relationship with Gino with anyone. It was private. “Hmmm,” she mumbled. “Tell me about when you were little. You know, when Gino lived with you and your mother. What was he like then? What was she like? Why didn’t they ever marry?”


  “Hey, I thought we were talking about me.”

  She jumped off the bed. “Why don’t we forget about talking and take a shower—see what comes up.”

  He groaned. “Nothing’s gonna come up. I’m forty-five and whacked out. I think I’d better crawl off and get some sleep.”

  She had been to bed with a lot of men. Never once had she ever wanted any of them to stay. Now she didn’t know what to say or how to handle the situation. She only knew that no way could she let him go. “Sleep here and you’ll get a free breakfast,” she joked flippantly. But he was already getting off the bed and hunting around for his clothes.

  Oh, God. Where did they stand now? What was going to happen? Why didn’t the bastard say something?

  She suddenly felt very vulnerable, standing there naked with her hair in stupid braids. He was pulling on his trousers. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then,” she said, waiting for him to stop her.

  He yawned. “Good idea.”

  Forlornly she walked into the bathroom and stepped under the shower. Would he be gone when she came out? Would the next day be business as usual?

  Christ! She had never felt like this in her life! Wanting him all those years had been one thing—actually having him was another.

  He came into the bathroom dressed, his clothes pulled on casually.

  There was a bottle of shower gel beside her. Pretending not to have seen him, she grabbed at it quickly and squeezed liberal amounts over her body, then began to massage it into her breasts.

  “Wow!” he said. “I saw a porno movie where a girl did that once.”

  “Has your wife got silicone boobs?” she inquired sweetly.

  He burst out laughing. “Massaging your tits and thinking of Helena. Is there something I should know about you?”

  Angrily she stomped out of the shower, nearly slipping. “You’re such a smart-ass.”

  He handed her a towel. “What does that make you?”

  “How many times do you do it in a night with her?” Even as she said the words she could hear the jealous twang in her voice and hated herself for it.

  “Cool down.” He had stopped laughing. “For someone with your record, I wouldn’t start asking those kinds of questions.”

  She was furious. “My record? What do you mean by that?”

  “You ball a lot of guys—that’s what I mean.”

  “I’m single. Why shouldn’t I?I bet you didn’t keep it tucked up beside you at night when you were single.”

  “That’s different.”

  “What’s different?”

  “I’m a man.”

  “Christ! Now you sound forty-five. It’s all right for a man to screw around but not for a girl—is that what you’re trying to say?”

  He scowled. “You know the rules.”

  “What fucking rules?” She was yelling now. “Who fucking made ’em? Men—that’s who.”

  “Calm down, babe. It’s nothing to get in a fight over.”

  “But I want to get in a fight. I want you to understand me.”

  “I understand you.”

  She was speaking evenly now. “No, you don’t. But you will. I like good-looking guys. If I have nothing better to do I take them to bed because I like sex. I am not a nympho or a hooker. I go to bed on my terms—and mostly I never see them again because that’s the way I want it.” She paused dramatically. “Now tell me, Marco. How many girls have you taken to bed just for an evening’s fun, ’cause you liked their tits or ass or they had long legs. Be honest. How many?”

  He shrugged vaguely. “A lot.”

  “And how many did you see again?”

  A smile crept onto his face. “O.K., O.K. I know what you’re saying.”

  She let the towel drop, went to him, and put her arms around his neck. “Thank Christ for that!”

  His hands began to roam. “But you don’t need no other guys right now—’cause you got me. Right, little Lucky? Right?”

  “You’re pinching my ass!”

  “Right, babe?”

  Relief flooded through her body. She had him. Tomorrow they would worry about Helena. “Take your clothes off and come back to bed,” she murmured.

  He picked her up and carried her over to the shower. “Hey, about that porno movie I saw. I forgot to tell you about the thing she did with the soap… really something. Maybe we should try it….”

  “Maybe we should,” she agreed happily.

  He was pulling his clothes off. “Maybe we will….”

  “Hey, I thought you said two was your limit.”

  “Lady, you are just about to make me one hell of a liar!”

  Rudolpho Crown and his party spilled out of the hotel at dawn. They were rowdy and vulgar. A cocktail waitress on her way home found herself grabbed and thoroughly groped by the five men, while their girl friends screamed with laughter. A young couple suffered a barrage of obscene insults. One of the women in their party peeled down the top of her dress and shimmied her large naked breasts in the face of a doorman.

  Rudolpho was convulsed. It was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

  Salvatore Kassari, the ugliest of the twins, whacked him firmly on the shoulder. “You got a gold mine here. You wanna sell out your investment?”

  He shook his head happily. It had been a grand evening. Every fucking dollar he had reluctantly parted with was going to pay off. And how. That Lucky Santangelo broad had really done it. He had one great big piece of the finest fucking hotel he had ever seen.

  Salvatore whacked him again. “I don’t think you heard me. You wanna sell?”

  Rudolpho was too drunk to hear the note of menace in his voice. The Kassari twins were big-time. Rudolpho was only too happy to be able to entertain them. They were based in Philadelphia, where their tentacles of crime stretched in all directions. A few weeks previously, a friend had brought them into his office and they had expressed an interest in putting a steady supply of money into one of his hot investment schemes. He was delighted.

  “Wait a minute,” Pietro, the younger brother had said, “dontcha have a piece of that new hotel that’s opening in Vegas?”

  Rudolpho was pleased to be able to invite them to the opening. He chartered a plane, the Kassaris supplied the girls, and here they were. And what an evening it had been!

  Rudolpho had a suite in the Magiriano, but the twins were booked into the Sands, and now there was talk of a private party, and he didn’t want to miss it. “I don’t want to sell,” he said, laughing.

  Salvatore Kassari kicked him in the leg—hard.

  Rudolpho was so surprised he just stood there, his mouth hanging open like a fish.

  Salvatore laughed and punched him in the stomach—hard. “Just jokin’ around, havin’ fun. You don’t mind, huh?”

  Drunk as he was, he did mind. “Cut that out—” he began.

  Salvatore smashed into his balls with something that felt like a shard of steel.

  Rudolpho groaned, threw up, bent double, gasped for breath.

  “You wanna sell out, dontcha?” Salvatore asked mildly.

  Rudolpho could not believe that this was happening to him. The time that Lucky Santangelo had come to his house and threatened him had been bad enough. But this was ridiculous. They were in front of his hotel. They were with a group of people, none of whom seemed to notice what was going on. It was daylight, for God’s sake.

  Pietro had hold of his arm, and Salvatore was on the other side. The other two men were getting the cars, the women stood around chatting.

  “What the shit’s going on?” he gasped.

  “Nothin’, partner,” said Pietro, grinning and displaying nicotine-stained teeth. “We’re just gonna take a little ride an’ finalize our deal. You won’t lose out—we’ll give you back your original investment.”

  “But I don’t want to sell.”

  “No?” Pietro was cheerful. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my—”

  Salvator
e grabbed his balls through the thin material of his trousers. “Don’t make any quick decisions,” he said, squeezing and twisting. “Life is funny. Who knows what you’ll wanna do tomorra?”

  As the Kassari twins bundled him into a car, he blacked out. Rudolpho Crown was a coward. He would sell. Eventually.

  Lucky stirred in her sleep and reached out. Her hand touched Marco’s chest. She smiled and woke up. She didn’t know what time it was and didn’t particularly care. She only knew that this was the happiest day of her life.

  Lightly she began to play with his nipples, licking the tips of her fingers and rubbing back and forth.

  He groaned, and she watched his hard-on grow beneath the sheet. Lazily his eyes flickered open.

  “I love you,” she said, “and I want you to divorce your wife.” Christ! All the things she wasn’t going to say were out in the open, just like that.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Sure. And you’ll stay away from other men or I’ll break your beautiful neck.”

  She couldn’t make up her mind if he was kidding or not. Was it all going to be this easy? “You’ll really divorce Helena?” she asked tentatively.

  “Listen, kid.” He sat up, his expression serious. “I knew I was going to divorce Helena a week after I married her.”

  “Huh?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “You walked out of my life as a spoiled kid a long time ago. You walked back in, and I knew one day it was going to be you and me.” As he said it he realized that what he was saying was the truth.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you tell me? Give me a sign. Something?”

  “I gave you plenty of signs. You didn’t want to know about me—you were too busy selecting talent. Besides, can you imagine Gino if I looked in your direction?”

  She knelt on the bed, her long black hair unruly and wild. “Hey, let’s not forget about your wife. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore her?”

  “You did last night.”

  “So did you.”

  “Jesus Christ, Lucky. We’ve wasted so goddamn much time… .”

  “Your fault.”

  “I’ll make up for it.”