Manuel was thankful for his wife and daughters. They were fine upstanding women who would never behave in such a lewd and filthy fashion.
As the tourists got into the boats, Guy handed Manuel a healthy tip.
He took it, vowing to himself that he would go back to fishing for a living rather than continuing to deal with people like this. They contaminated him with their unbridled libidos and sexual perversions. He was a simple man, he preferred a simple life.
* * *
Hammond jumped into the boat right behind Lori, sitting himself down beside her.
‘I bet you’re ready for a nice warm shower,’ he said, edging close. ‘Get all that sand out of your pretty little cooch.’
‘Excuse me?’ Lori said, not sure she’d heard him correctly.
Hammond gave an easy chuckle. ‘No offence,’ he said smoothly. ‘That’s what my mother used to say after a day trip to the beach. Of course, our beach was in the Hamptons, but that’s another story.’
Lori stared at him – she wasn’t sure how to respond.
‘You are a very pretty girl,’ Hammond continued, his eyes undressing her. ‘Quite the temptress.’
Cliff had warned her that politicians were horny bastards, and apparently he was right. At first she’d been flattered by Hammond’s attention, but not any more. There was something off-putting about this one.
‘Why didn’t your wife come today?’ she asked, putting the emphasis on the word wife.
‘All this is too energetic for Sierra,’ Hammond replied. ‘She’s quite . . . delicate.’
‘Really?’ Lori said sharply. ‘She doesn’t look delicate.’
‘I know,’ Hammond said with a put-upon sigh. ‘It’s a personal burden I carry.’ A meaningful pause, then a lowering of his voice. ‘Between us, Lori, Sierra has uh . . . emotional issues. It’s the sad truth I live with.’
What was this? Confide in Lori Day? ‘Sorry to hear that,’ she said, brushing sand off her bare leg while not believing him at all.
Hammond leaned over, his fingers lightly touching her upper thigh.
She quickly jerked back.
‘You missed a bit,’ he explained.
‘No, I didn’t,’ she snapped.
‘I apologize,’ he said. ‘Merely being helpful.’
Saved by Taye and Ashley who piled into the tender. Taye was grinning as if he was eight years old and had just gotten a new bike for Christmas. Ashley seemed a bit flustered.
‘Wish I’d brought a camera,’ Lori mused, edging away from the Senator.
‘Me too,’ Ashley said, not quite as aloof as usual.
‘We could probably sell our pix to the tabloids for a fortune,’ Lori joked, immediately realizing it was a dumb thing to come out with.
‘I don’t think so,’ Ashley said tartly, exchanging a look with Taye as much as to say – I told you she was a bit rough.
‘I was joking, of course,’ Lori muttered, totally embarrassed.
‘I have a hunch that our host wouldn’t find it particularly funny,’ Ashley said as the tender took off, bouncing over the waves at a brisk pace.
‘Lay off, toots,’ Taye whispered in Ashley’s ear. ‘Give her a break.’
Ashley ignored him; she was too busy thinking about what dress she would wear to dinner. Something dazzling. Something to catch Cliff Baxter’s eye, for she was quite sure that he fancied her. And why not? She was much sexier than his girlfriend.
* * *
Sierra was tempted to reach for the Xanax as she awaited her husband’s return. She also stared longingly at the bottle of vodka Hammond had so thoughtfully ordered to be brought to their room. She knew he preferred to see her medicated, whether it be from pills or booze. That way he felt he was in complete control.
She managed to resist both temptations. Instead she sat by herself in their stateroom, dredging up every past memory she could about the photos, and the way Hammond had attached himself to her after Flynn had left for London, claiming that Flynn had asked him to look out for her. What a lie that had turned out to be. According to Flynn, he had asked no such thing.
So . . . if Hammond had lied about that, what else?
The photos, of course. She’d shown them to him and he’d carried on about how he’d always known Flynn was a cheater, and that he hadn’t wanted to upset her, but now that she’d seen the proof with her own eyes . . .
Next he’d insisted on destroying the photos, had taken them from her along with the typewritten note. Then he’d tried to talk her into getting an abortion.
Oh God! Of course. If the photos were fakes naturally he hadn’t wanted her studying them. And if he envisioned her as his future political asset, then Flynn’s baby would certainly not factor into his plans.
Had he crashed his car on purpose? Had he wanted her to lose Flynn’s baby? She shuddered at the thought.
Now that she knew what kind of man Hammond really was, she wouldn’t put anything past him. He was an evil man, hiding beneath the cloak of a political do-gooder.
When Hammond returned from the island trip she was ready to face him. He barged into their stateroom spewing complaints about the heat and the bugs and how he’d had no chance to speak privately to Aleksandr. ‘I deserve more respect from these people,’ he complained. ‘I am a United States Senator, for crissakes. I am destined for great things. If they expect any future favours, they should be aware of who they’re dealing with.’
The man or the monster? she wanted to say, however, she controlled herself.
‘Hammond,’ she said evenly.
‘Sierra,’ he said, mocking her tone as he threw off his sweat-stained T-shirt.
‘I need to ask you a question.’
‘Do you now?’ he said, pulling down his shorts and underwear, showing not a shred of modesty.
‘Seeing Flynn reminded me of those photos.’
‘What photos?’ he snapped, absent-mindedly stroking his balls as he headed towards the bathroom.
‘The ones you faked in college,’ she said bravely. ‘The ones you sent to me and Flynn.’
‘What?’ Stopping at the bathroom door, he turned around and faced her.
‘I was wondering how you managed such a clever job,’ Sierra continued. ‘I mean, it was before Photoshop and all the technology we have today. Did you hire a professional to help you?’
Hammond stared her down, his eyes menacing slits of anger. ‘Have you been talking to that son of a bitch?’ he demanded.
‘What son of a bitch would that be?’ she answered, remaining calm.
‘Do not get smart with me, woman,’ he said angrily. ‘I warned you not to speak to him.’
‘You warn me about a lot of things,’ she said, keeping her tone even. ‘However, we are on a yacht in the middle of an ocean, and I think I can do whatever I like.’
Hammond could not believe the change in her. What the hell was going on? She seemed sober and together, not foggy and compliant. This was unlike the woman he’d grown used to. The woman who never dared to argue. The woman he’d managed to control with his constant threats of harm to her family.
‘You think you can do whatever you like, do you?’ he said, his voice harsh and unforgiving. ‘Perhaps you’re forgetting who you are. You are my wife, and as my wife you do what I tell you to do, or . . .’ he paused momentarily, his eyes narrowing even more – ‘. . . you know the consequences.’
‘For God’s sake, Hammond. How long are you going to keep this up?’
‘What’s come over you, Sierra? Suddenly all brave because you had words with an old boyfriend? Do you think he can save you? Your family? And even more important, can Flynn save himself? Think about that for a moment.’ He paused and glared at her threateningly. ‘One phone call and I can make his life a nightmare. I can make sure he never works again. I can have his legs broken, his pretty face smashed in. You know I can.’
‘It’s over, Hammond,’ she said, her voice steady. ‘The moment we get off this boat, I’m leaving you.
And I will make sure everyone hears about your threats, so that if anything happens to me or my family – the finger will be pointed at you.’
‘So brave, all of a sudden,’ Hammond jeered. ‘Keep it up, dear, and we will see what happens.’
With those words he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.
* * *
‘How was it?’ Cliff asked when Lori returned to their stateroom.
‘Oh my God, you were so right about the Senator,’ she replied, flopping down on the bed. ‘He’s a piece of work.’
‘Told you so,’ Cliff said. ‘I can spot ’em a mile off.’
‘But Cliff, the island was fantastic. I wish you could’ve seen it. So beautiful, like something out of a movie. And deserted. No houses. No people. Nothing except wildlife, greenery, and these amazing waterfalls. Oh, and giant turtles,’ she continued excitedly. ‘You would’ve loved it. I wish you’d come with.’
Cliff was pleased to see Lori so animated, like a little kid who’d just experienced her first trip to Disneyland. Sometimes he forgot how young she was. Twenty-four. A mere child. Young enough to be his daughter. Yet old enough to be his lover.
And why exactly did he think it was time to trade her in for a younger, fresher face? Because he was Cliff Baxter? Because he was a star who had to maintain a certain image? To impress his male friends and acquaintances? For his adoring public?
It was all bullshit. He liked Lori, he was comfortable with her. No need for a trade-in at this time.
* * *
‘Listen, toots, have I told you lately how much I love you?’ Taye said, raising his head from between his wife’s thighs to take a deep breath.
‘Oh, for God’s sake – don’t stop now!’ Ashley intoned, lying spreadeagled on the bed in their stateroom, luxuriating in the expertise of her husband’s talented tongue.
‘But I do love you so much,’ Taye insisted. ‘You’re it for me. No other woman. Ever.’
‘Okay, okay – then how about you get on with the job at hand,’ Ashley implored. ‘I’m almost there, don’t stop now.’
‘I won’t let you down,’ Taye answered, grinning.
This trip was doing their marriage nothing but good.
* * *
‘About time you got back,’ Jeromy said, his tone quite snippy.
Luca threw himself down on the bed.
‘Please!’ Jeromy said, curling his lip. ‘You’re all sweaty and nasty. Can you at least take a shower before you mess up our bed?’
Luca placed his hands behind his head and stretched; he had no intention of moving. ‘You made a mistake not coming,’ he remarked, wishing he was still on the magical island.
‘I think not,’ Jeromy replied. ‘Staying on board was very advantageous for me. I had quite a long chat with Cliff Baxter. He might be on the verge of hiring me to design the interior of his next house.’
‘Is he buying a new house?’ Luca said. ‘Lori never mentioned it.’
‘Since when are you so tight with that Lori person?’ Jeromy enquired, feeling quite envious that Luca was busy making friends while he languished on the yacht.
‘I saved her from the hands of the horny Senator,’ Luca said. ‘And you know what? Don’t call her “that Lori person”. If you took the time to get to know her, you’d realize she’s a very sweet girl.’
‘Changing tracks, are we?’ Jeromy said contemptuously. ‘Dying to sneak your way into her dirty little knickers?’
‘Try not to turn into a bitchy queen,’ Luca sighed.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Jeromy huffed. ‘A bitchy queen indeed!’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘How dare you!’
‘How dare I what?’ Luca said flatly.
‘Call me names.’
‘Jeromy,’ Luca said, giving him a long cool look. ‘We really need to talk.’
The dreaded words – we really need to talk. Jeromy had heard them before, and more than once. First from his father, a stern civil servant, who’d beaten him unmercifully when he’d first come out. Then the don at Oxford with whom he’d been desperately in love. Next the septuagenarian Marquis who’d kept him as his pet for several years. And finally the ‘in the closet’ businessman who’d financed his design firm until the man’s wife had found out what was really going on between them and called a halt to all financial dealings.
Now Luca.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Luca was his future. They would grow old together. They would enjoy Luca’s fame and money together. This couldn’t happen. He would not allow it.
One way or the other, Jeromy was determined to stop the inevitable.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
For the night’s festivities Bianca had requested a Spanish theme. Guy was on to it immediately; he’d swiftly arranged for musicians and a well-known Spanish chef – famous for his seafood paella – to be boated in from the mainland, even though they were several hours out at sea. He’d been informed from the start that no expense was to be spared on this trip. Only the best for Aleksandr Kasianenko and his lady. Guy was sure that if Bianca had requested that Wolfgang Puck be flown in from California to prepare his famous smoked salmon pizza, Aleksandr would oblige.
At sunset, Bianca appeared on deck – a true dazzler in a flounced flamenco dress, white flowers in her jet hair. Aleksandr accompanied her. Not a man to dress up, black pants and a white shirt did it for him.
Guy was a tad envious, for once again they made a ferociously handsome couple. Between them they had everything. Looks, money, power, fame. It wasn’t fair that two people had so much.
Still . . . he was used to it. Serving the privileged. Catering to their every need. Watching them at play. Hoping for a major tip at the end of the journey. It was the life he’d chosen, and it wasn’t such a bad one.
At least he had a steady partner who professed true love. They shared a cosy apartment in Sydney, and whenever Guy was home – which was not that often – they were quite compatible and took pleasure in doing the same things.
Yes, Guy was satisfied, although he couldn’t help having lust in his heart – not to mention his pants – for the very gorgeous Luca Perez. What a true specimen of magnificent manhood. And talented too. Guy had Luca’s latest song repeating on his iPod, it soothed him during times of stress.
* * *
By the time Hammond emerged from the shower, Sierra was no longer in their stateroom.
Dammit! Where was the devious bitch, his cheating wife, the slut who’d been talking to her ex-boyfriend?
His fury was dark and cold. Did Sierra honestly think she could escape from him just like that? A divorce – even a separation – would ruin his political future. No way would he ever allow that to happen.
One day he was going to run for President, and whether she liked it or not – she would support him – dead or alive.
* * *
‘What happened to you?’ Xuan asked when she returned to their stateroom and found Flynn there. ‘You could’ve told me you were leaving the island.’
‘I got the stomach flu,’ he answered, still thinking about his conversation with Sierra.
‘You seem to be better now,’ Xuan remarked, opening the closet to see if she could rummage up an outfit to wear for dinner. The women on this trip were so impeccably groomed and well dressed. Her choices were limited since she travelled so light, and quite frankly she couldn’t care less. Leave it to the others to prance around in their fancy clothes; she knew that she was smarter and more caring about what was going on in the world than all of them put together.
‘Yeah, I am,’ Flynn said, frustrated that he had to share the same space with Xuan. Much as he valued her friendship, he needed to be alone to think things through. He didn’t appreciate Xuan questioning him, and he was sure that she would – it was her way. ‘I’ll see you upstairs,’ he added, heading for the door.
‘You know, Flynn, you should be careful what you wish for,’ Xuan said sagely. ‘For the fu
lfilment of wishes does not always provide the answers we crave.’
‘Thanks for that,’ he said dryly. ‘It makes no sense at all.’
‘Think about it,’ she called after him. ‘You’re too clever to get caught up in your own fantasies.’
Ignoring Xuan’s words, Flynn ran into Taye and his blonde wife, all of them on their way to the drinks deck.
‘You feelin’ all right, mate?’ Taye enquired, friendly as usual.
‘Yeah, it was nothing,’ Flynn answered. ‘Five-minute stomach upset.’
‘Eew, nasty!’ Ashley exclaimed, clinging to her husband’s arm as they made their way up the circular staircase. ‘Remember Taye, that time you got the runs on the field in front of thousands of fans?’
‘Oh crap, don’t remind me,’ Taye groaned. ‘Talk about embarrassin’.’
‘Had to throw all your gear away,’ Ashley giggled. ‘Even your mum wouldn’t go near it!’
‘Thanks,’ Taye said, making a face. ‘You certainly know how to feed a bloke’s ego.’
‘And that’s not all I can do,’ Ashley said, giggling suggestively.
Taye decided that his wife on holiday was a whole other woman. And he liked this new Ashley a lot better than her former self.
* * *
Bianca surveyed her guests, all present for drinks with the exception of the Senator. She observed that the Senator’s wife seemed more sociable tonight – Sierra was chatting pleasantly to Cliff Baxter and Lori. Bianca was delighted to note that everyone was in a more relaxed state. Ah yes, the vacation vibe was taking over and she couldn’t be happier.
Aleksandr was at ease too, talking football with Taye and politics with the Asian woman – whom Bianca had secretly christened Miss Intensity.
Luca approached and clinked glasses with her. ‘You and old Aleks certainly know how to throw a party,’ he remarked. ‘Everyone’s having a great time.’
‘You too?’ Bianca questioned.
‘Why’re you askin’ me?’ Luca said, pushing a lock of blond hair off his forehead.
‘’Cause I know you,’ Bianca said, looking at him intently. ‘Something’s on your mind. Spill.’
The Power Trip Page 24