‘Bianca,’ Aleksandr said, fixing her with another steady gaze. ‘This is serious.’
‘Well fuck serious,’ she said, still full of anger. ‘Nobody tells me what I can and cannot do. I’m sorry I got photographed, but it comes with the fucking territory of being a star, you should know that.’
Their first fight. They glared at each other, neither prepared to back down.
‘I loathe it when you swear,’ Aleksandr said coldly. ‘It’s unfeminine. It does not become you.’
‘Really?’ Bianca retorted, furious at the way he was speaking to her.
‘It makes you sound common, the words of a streetwalker.’
‘And I bet you’ve had a few of those,’ Bianca snapped, unable to help herself.
‘Excuse me, Mr Kasianenko,’ Olga, his personal flight attendant, said, hovering because she really didn’t want to interrupt. ‘The pilot has asked that you fasten your seat belts in preparation for our landing.’
‘Thank you, Olga,’ Aleksandr said with a curt nod.
Bianca turned away from him and grappled with her seat belt. She was seething. This was some shitty start to what was supposed to be a memorable trip.
It suddenly occurred to her that maybe she was making a big mistake.
* * *
Flying commercial was not Ashley’s favourite thing to do. Going through Heathrow airport was inconvenient to say the least. Everyone wanted Taye’s autograph, and there was no escaping the hordes of paparazzi who trailed them all the way until they passed through security.
Some of the paparazzi shouted mean things at her. ‘Give us a smile, luv, you always look so bloody miserable.’ ‘Taye gettin’ a legover with any other bird?’ ‘C’mon, Ashley, try not to look as if you’re constipated!’
Rude bastards. She hated them all.
It wasn’t her fault that Taye always managed a big shit-eating grin. She simply couldn’t do it. He was Mister Personality. She was not. The truth was that she wasn’t miserable, merely cool. Better to look cool than to look like a fool.
Once through security things calmed down, although she wasn’t too happy about having to remove her shoes, her jacket and all her jewelry as they passed through the scanner. Damn, why didn’t Taye get priority treatment? He was a British football hero, a bona fide star, and stars weren’t meant to suffer the indignities of ordinary people.
Sometimes she wondered if it was because he was black that he didn’t get the Beckham treatment.
Hmm . . . food for thought.
Sitting in the VIP lounge, Taye chatted amiably with other passengers. Ashley settled herself at a table, sipping an early-morning coffee while leafing through a copy of Hello magazine, pausing to study a photo of herself at a fashion event in an extremely chic outfit. She was pleased with the image, pleased enough to tear the page out of the magazine and stash it in her Birkin handbag.
Taye was dragging over someone to introduce to her, which was annoying because she wasn’t in the mood for company. She soon perked up though when she realized it was the American movie star, Billy Melina, and he was smokin’ hot.
Ashley put on her animated face and began plying Billy with questions about his next movie and where he was flying to. Billy was totally charming in an all-American way, and when he left, Ashley fantasized about what it would be like to be married to an actual movie star. A handsome movie star who looked exactly like Billy Melina. So hot and sexy, and he’d just finished making a movie with Cliff Baxter – another of her crushes.
Idly she wondered what Billy was like in bed . . .
‘What you thinkin’, luv?’ Taye asked.
‘Oh,’ she said cheekily, ‘I was thinking about what you’re gonna do to me once you get me on that boat.’ Her husband was right, they hadn’t had sex in a while, and suddenly she was experiencing quite a tingle.
‘You were?’ Taye said, startled.
‘Boats are sexy, aren’t they?’ Ashley said, tugging on his arm.
Christ! Was his wife finally feeling horny?
‘Dead sexy,’ he managed. ‘Let’s put it this way, toots. You an’ I are gonna rock the boat from stem to stern. Be prepared.’
She smiled, glanced down and noticed the erection growing in his pants.
Taye was so damn randy, and he was all hers.
* * *
In the large black SUV on their way to the airport, Lori was on her best behaviour. Cliff was thinking of dumping her, and she was having none of it. She was determined to make him see the error of his ways. A perfect blow-job in the car while he was driving was merely the beginning of all the exciting things she had in store for him. Their sex-life was about to heat up. On their upcoming trip she had plans to take it to an entirely new level.
Yes, Cliff Baxter was about to see a whole other side of her. By the time she was finished with him, he’d be begging her to stay.
* * *
Cabo San Lucas was at its glorious shimmering best. The sun was shining, palm trees swaying, a vacation atmosphere prevailed.
Luca and Jeromy were staying overnight with the Luttmans, acquaintances who owned a magnificent villa overlooking the bay. The Luttmans were a New York power couple whom they’d met on the social circuit several times, and Jeromy had been desperately trying to cultivate them. So when the yacht trip had come about, Jeromy had quickly discovered the Luttmans would be in residence at their vacation home, and he’d suggested to Luca that they might stay the night. Luca had agreed, and the Luttmans had been thrilled to say yes.
Lanita Luttman, a former showgirl, jewelry designer and well-known lesbian, was a true social butterfly. And her husband, Sydney, an absurdly rich investment banker and well-known homosexual, couldn’t have been happier to welcome Luca and his English partner into their home.
A uniformed driver and two eager assistants met Luca and Jeromy at the airport and whisked them to the gated villa where Lanita waited to greet them wearing a flowing purple caftan and multiple strands of long diamond necklaces. A flamboyant woman, she had dyed black hair, turquoise contact lenses, and was decidedly overweight.
Servants abounded. Lanita snapped her fingers and trays of canapés and Bellinis appeared in the hands of ridiculously handsome young waiters clad in tight shorts, with only colourful braces covering their well-defined abs and chests.
Jeromy was in heaven. He glanced around and wished that they were spending more than one night here; he could soon get very used to this kind of life.
Luca was already admiring Lanita’s array of sparkling necklaces, while various maids and housekeepers peered from the windows and behind the bushes, desperate to get a peek at their idol – the fabulous Luca Perez.
Ah . . . so gorgeous, so blond – and what a voice! They were all in a state of hero-worship.
Meanwhile Jeromy was in his element. Who would have thought that his life would have taken such an amazing turn? The London gays in high places had written him off when he’d turned forty and didn’t have a permanent boyfriend, let alone a successful business. However, since hooking up with Luca, and bringing Ashley in, he’d managed to achieve it all. With Luca’s backing and connections and Taye’s investment, his design business had taken off, and now here he was in Cabo San Lucas with one of the richest couples in America, about to set off on an exclusive trip with a Russian oligarch and his super-model girlfriend.
Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all.
* * *
Hammond climbed into the marital bed stinking of sex.
Sierra cowed on her side of the bed pretending to be asleep. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to wash the smell of another woman off his body.
Sierra continued to wonder how she’d allowed herself to sink to such a low point in her life.
Because of Hammond’s diabolical threats, that’s how. Threats she had no doubt he would manage – somehow or other – to carry out.
You have to get out of this marriage! a voice screamed in her head.
I can’t, another voice rep
lied. I don’t have the courage.
Once she would have fought back, stood up for herself. Only now she couldn’t summon the strength. Playing along was the only way to go.
She closed her eyes tightly shut and prayed for oblivion.
This was her life, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
As Flynn and Xuan entered the spacious lobby of the Plaza Athenée Hotel, Aleksandr rose to his feet and enveloped Flynn in a hearty bear hug. ‘It is great to see you, my friend,’ he said warmly. ‘It has been far too long. I have missed your company.’
Flynn extracted himself and introduced Xuan. Aleksandr gave her an appraising once-over and nodded approvingly. ‘You have done well,’ he said.
Flynn realized that he had probably failed to make it clear that he and Xuan were not a couple, merely platonic friends.
Hmm . . . he’d have to deal with that.
Xuan proffered her hand, gave Aleksandr a firm handshake and a steady gaze. ‘I have heard much about you,’ she said briskly. ‘And your lady too. Where is she?’
Nothing like getting straight to the point, Flynn thought. But he had to admit he’d been thinking the same thing. Aleksandr appeared to be by himself, apart from a burly bodyguard hovering a few feet away. Where was the extraordinary Bianca?
‘My lady is waiting for us on my plane,’ Aleksandr said. ‘She did not feel like coming into the city.’
He omitted to mention that Bianca had refused to accompany him. She was in full sulk and had locked herself in the bedroom on the plane, much to Aleksandr’s chagrin. He was hoping that by the time they got back she would have had time to think things through and realize that he was right.
‘It’s great to see you too,’ Flynn said. ‘Quite a surprise hearing from you, though I can assure you it was a welcome one. Your timing was right on – I needed a break.’
‘Sit,’ Aleksandr said, indicating a comfortable banquette. ‘We take tea before we return to the plane.’
‘How very civilized,’ Xuan murmured, sitting down. Aleksandr sat himself beside her, while Flynn settled on an upholstered chair opposite them.
‘Tell me, Mr Kasianenko,’ Xuan said, ‘do you use your plane for humanitarian efforts, or is it merely for your own convenience?’
Aleksandr gave her a long penetrating stare. ‘So personal, so soon,’ he said at last, sounding vaguely amused. ‘Please, do call me Aleksandr, there is no need to be so formal.’
‘Aleksandr it is,’ Xuan said, twisting a thin gold bangle on her delicate wrist. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’
Oh shit, Flynn thought. She’s determined to score points and she’s doing it with the wrong guy.
But Aleksandr didn’t seem to mind. ‘You tell me about your humanitarian efforts, and I’ll tell you about mine,’ he said, still sounding amused.
Flynn quickly interjected. ‘Let’s get into it later,’ he said, determined to avert trouble, because once Xuan got going she really got going. ‘I’ve heard a rumour you’re in talks to buy an English football team,’ he continued. ‘Now that’s what I’m interested in hearing. Want to tell me all about it?’
* * *
‘Didja fancy him then?’ Taye asked, snuggling close to his wife on their British airways flight to L.A. where they were to make a connection to Cabo San Lucas.
‘Fancy who?’ questioned Ashley, all wide-eyed and giggly because she’d been taking full advantage of the free champagne.
‘You know who,’ Taye teased. ‘That American movie-star bloke.’
‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,’ Ashley said, letting forth a most unladylike hiccough.
‘Billy Melina.’
‘Oh him,’ Ashley said dismissively. ‘He’s not all that.’
‘Thought you fancied him.’
‘Not me,’ she said innocently.
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes, Taye,’ she said, fluffing out her blond curls. ‘He isn’t my type.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Are you?’ she said coyly.
‘You bet your pretty little arse,’ Taye said, reaching over for a quick grope of her left breast, pleased to hear that she didn’t fancy the movie star. ‘Can’t wait to get you on the boat,’ he added. ‘We’re gonna have a fine old time.’
‘Stop feeling me up,’ she giggled. ‘Try to be patient for once.’
‘Can’t do it, toots, I’m too turned on.’
‘At least wait until the cabin lights are off,’ she insisted, impulsively running her hands over his shaved head, something she only did when she was feeling sexy.
Bloody Hell! Taye thought. It looked like little wifey was letting her guard down and he was about to get lucky.
Mile-high Club, here I come!
* * *
To Flynn’s surprise, Aleksandr and Xuan appeared to hit it off. Flynn had expected fireworks, but all he got was a heated discussion between the two of them about why politicians were not doing enough to end wars, world hunger, atrocities, inhumane treatment of prisoners and urban crime.
It turned out that Aleksandr was quite a do-gooder in his own way. He wasn’t a boastful man, but Xuan managed to pry all kinds of information out of him. She soon discovered that he supported several charitable institutions, that he’d financed a school for uneducated teenagers in the Ukraine, and that on occasion he did indeed use his plane to transport food and supplies to disaster areas.
Flynn had not been aware of any of this. It made him respect Aleksandr a hell of a lot more. The man wasn’t simply a rich tycoon looking to sleep with beautiful models and throw decadent parties. He was the real deal – a billionaire with a social conscience. Surprising. Refreshing.
Xuan had her own particular way of making people talk, and by the time they’d had tea in the lobby of the Plaza Athenée and then helicoptered to the airport, she and Aleksandr were carrying on like old friends.
Bianca – not so much. She greeted them with a frosty demeanour as they boarded the plane, practically ignoring Aleksandr when he attempted to give her a kiss. She hurriedly turned away from him, announced that she had a killer of a headache and flounced off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
‘Sorry about that,’ Aleksandr said, obviously uncomfortable. ‘Bianca has been working too hard lately.’
‘Really?’ Xuan said with a sarcastic edge. ‘Posing for pretty photographs all day long must be extremely tiring.’
Flynn threw her a warning look, which she ignored. Xuan was not one to back down; like it or not she always said what was on her mind.
Aleksandr appeared unphased. He ordered shots of vodka and a large silver bowl piled high with caviar. ‘We shall drink,’ he announced. ‘And we shall eat. Bianca will feel better later. You will see.’
* * *
The studio corporate jet was luxurious by anyone’s standards. Cliff joked with the two attractive flight attendants, and even visited the pilots before take-off for a manly chat. Everyone loved Cliff Baxter, he was an American classic, handsome, smooth and a damn fine actor. His movies made billions worldwide and why not? He always gave his adoring public exactly what they wanted.
‘This is quite an adventure for you,’ he informed Lori as they settled into their seats. ‘One I hope you’ll always remember.’
You patronizing shit, she thought, remaining calm on the outside, furious on the inside. She knew exactly how Cliff wanted her to behave. He required her to be the grateful girlfriend who was so very lucky to be given the opportunity to go on such a fabulous trip with her famous movie-star boyfriend. Well, screw him. She could play the crap out of that role.
‘How could I not be excited?’ she said, all bright-eyed and eager, just the way he expected her to be. ‘Thank you so much, Cliff, for including me.’
‘That’s okay, sweetie,’ he said, nodding at her reassuringly. ‘You deserve it.’
I do? she was dying to say. How come? I thought you were preparing to dump me.
Isn’t that the next item on your agenda?
But of course the dumping was to take place after the trip, after he’d used her as his sexual plaything and adorable arm-piece, after a week of sex Cliff Baxter-style.
Yes, Cliff was that most dangerous of men. An attractive, famous, charming, talented, rich user of women.
We’ll see, Mr Baxter, she thought. We’ll damn well see.
* * *
The Luttmans invited a dozen or so friends over to show off their famous star guest. Luca wasn’t too thrilled. He’d been looking forward to lying back and relaxing – not being put on display.
Jeromy was one happy camper. The more important people he met, the better for his design business. It seemed everyone had a second home in London, so what could be better? He flung himself into being socially adept, while Luca sat at a table surrounded by predatory, overly tanned, bored women, all married to incredibly rich men who were at least thirty years older than them, and all anxious to capture Luca’s full attention.
Jeromy glanced over. Foolish women. Didn’t they know Luca was gay? Didn’t they get it?
Apparently the message hadn’t reached them.
By the end of the evening Jeromy had acquired three new clients, and an offer for him and Luca to join Lanita and Sydney in their luxurious bedroom later that night.
Jeromy knew Luca would decline – however, there was nothing wrong with being curious. What did Lanita and Sydney have in mind?
Sex, of course. But what combination? And where did Lanita fit in?
As soon as Luca was asleep in the guest suite, Jeromy couldn’t resist; he took himself to the master bedroom where incense candles burned, and Sydney lay spread-eagled on the middle of the bed with a healthy Viagra-inspired erection and an even healthier gut, which Jeromy found quite exciting in a totally repulsive way.
Lanita was also present, clad head-to-toe in a Day-Glo purple latex body suit, welding a lethal whip with a sinister vampira mask covering her eyes. ‘Welcome,’ she purred. ‘Where is Luca?’
The Power Trip Page 13