by Zara Chase
She did it, almost slipping in her haste to move into position.
“Put your arms round my neck, sugar. That’s it. Now lift your legs round my waist. Trust me,” he added when she hesitated. “I won’t drop you.”
With his hands supporting her butt, she did as she’d been ordered and was rewarded when his long dick slid smoothly into her.
“Damn,” he said, shaking his head and withdrawing. “I forgot the condom.”
“Oh no you don’t. Stay here and finish what you started.”
“But I can’t—”
“It’s okay. I’ve got pregnancy covered.”
“You sure?”
“Certain. Just fuck me, Clyde. I’m suffering here. Make me feel alive.”
His smile was pure predatory male as he dropped his head to kiss her. “You got it.”
He drove into her with enough force to make her gasp. His prick had a slight kink in the end of it that nudged deep into the side of her walls—a deviation that drove her wilder still. She threw back her head, directly into the spray of water, and groaned.
“Like that, babe?”
“I love it. Fuck me harder, Clyde. Fill me.”
“I am filling you. You’re so fucking tight.” He breathed hard as he spoke. “So wet and warm. You’re killing me. Come on, babe, this ain’t gonna last long.”
He picked up the pace, and Fabia was happy to stay with him. His hands were occupied holding her up, so she squashed her tits against his chest. The wiry hairs rubbed against her sensitised nipples, causing her to whimper with need. She clung tighter to his neck and took little nips at his shoulder as he drove himself into her.
“Feel it, Fabia. Tell me what you feel.”
She could barely find her voice. “I feel your cock driving into me. You’re easing my ache, Clyde. Don’t stop.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“I need this.” She threw her head backward for a second time, clinging to him like a monkey as her climax grew. She did nothing to stop it from consuming her. “I need it really badly. Give it to me, Clyde. I’m coming for you.”
“That’s it, take it all.” He thrust into her so hard that her world exploded. “I need to feel you come.”
“Arghhh!” Fire burst through her as she bore down as hard as she could on his cock, taking every last part of it deep inside her. She clutched it more jealously than she had any right to, happy to possess it indefinitely. Piquant thrill chased piquant thrill through every inch of her body, bringing her alive, making her feel cherished and loved. “Keep fucking me, Clyde. It’s still not enough. I need more.”
“You’ve got it all. I’m gonna come, too.” He stiffened, groaned like he was in physical pain, and then drove into her so hard that she thought he’d tear her in two. Instead, as he pulsated inside her, his pleasure communicated itself and another climax chased close on the heels of the one that had just subsided. “Fabia, ride it, honey. I’m shooting my load. Take it.”
“I’m coming again.” She screamed the words as she closed about him. “Keep fucking me. Don’t you dare stop!”
Finally, she was spent and so was he. He placed her back on her feet, but she wasn’t sure her legs were steady enough to hold her up. She leaned against the stall wall for support, breathing hard and smiling like an idiot.
“Wow,” she said as Clyde switched off the shower.
“Sorry it was so quick,” he said, kissing the end of her nose. “Next time I’ll make you beg before I let you come.”
“I did beg, didn’t I?”
“That wasn’t what I’d call begging.” Really? “Come on.” He held out a towel and wrapped her in it. “I’ll dry you off.”
“No, it’s okay. You’d better get yourself out of here before someone discovers the door’s locked. I don’t want to lose my job.”
Clyde frowned, clearly wondering why she’d withdrawn from him. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Come to the loft when you’re ready. I’ll feed you and we’ll talk about it.”
“No, it’s…Yes, okay. Will Peyton be there?”
“Oh yeah. He’s looking forward to seeing you.”
Fabia would go. She wasn’t sure how sensible it would be to allow herself to be alone with them in that loft. She couldn’t seem to get that playroom of theirs out of her mind. But she would have to go.
Think of Sonia and put sex out of your mind, damn it!
She’d show them Sonia’s phone, tell them where she found it, and demand an explanation. They knew a damned sight more than they’d so far told her. She intended to find out what, and how it was connected to Sonia’s disappearance.
But she couldn’t do that in a public place, so she’d have to go to the loft.
Chapter Six
Fabia spent some time after Clyde left her catching up with her paperwork and trying to figure out how best to confront the guys about Sonia. Deciding upon the direct approach, she was about to leave when she ran into Anton. It was the first time their paths had crossed since she’d deputized for him at the meeting the previous day. She wondered about that. Had he been deliberately avoiding her? Why would he? She didn’t know, but something about him was definitely off. Fabia could barely trust her own judgement nowadays. Even so, everyone that had had anything to do with Sonia was suspect in her mind.
“Hey,” he said, “glad I caught you. What was that all about? Playing a match with Clyde Wilson?”
She shrugged. “He just turned up. He’s a handy player, and it was nice to have a good hit for a change.”
“Did you beat him?”
“Almost.”
Anton laughed. “Hope you charged him.”
“He offered to pay.”
“Then let him. We need all the income we can get.” He paused, looking awkward, and Fabia sensed he wanted to talk about the meeting. She had no intention of helping him by raising the subject herself and waited him out in silence. “Er, how come you presented the wrong figures to the meeting?”
“You’d made a mistake. Not sure how it happened, but you’d put me down for way more hours than I’d done, so I pulled off the right figures from the computer.” She offered him an innocent half smile. “Did I do wrong?”
“No…well, yes. We made a balls-up of the figures last month. The extras I put on your list were hours coached by your predecessor. She was a bit lax in her record keeping, and they got missed.”
Liar!
“Oh, I see.” Fabia’s antennae were on high alert, and anger simmered beneath her cool exterior. She didn’t know what game Anton was playing, but blaming it on Sonia was a cheap blow. Sonia was one of the most organized people Fabia knew and would never get behind with her paperwork. “Sorry, you should have said. Still, no harm done. I guess you can put it right.”
“Yeah, I’ll see David later.” He raked her body with his eyes. She was wearing a short skirt and tank top, teamed with heeled mules, and she’d left her hair loose. “You look nice. Got time for a beer?”
“No, sorry.” There was something about Anton that made her uncomfortable. “I need to be somewhere.”
“Ah, hot date?”
“Not exactly.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands in the air. “I get it. It’s none of my business. Well, enjoy yourself and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
She waited until he sauntered off and then climbed on her bike, taking the circuitous route to the flying school just in case Anton was still watching her. Melanie was nowhere in sight, so Fabia didn’t have to explain her arrival and cause unnecessary speculation. She ran up the steps to the loft, determined to remain immune to their physical presence and quicksilver charm.
That resolve was put to the test immediately when the door was opened by Peyton before she could knock. He looked devastating in cargo shorts and a sleeveless top that showed off his muscled arms. He was barefoot, and his dark hair was tousled,
still damp from the shower. He was one of the most-handsome men she’d ever seen, and her traitorous heart did a strange little flip at the mere sight of him.
Not a good start.
“Hey,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Glad you could make it.” He slipped an arm round her waist and led her out to the terrace. “You look smoking hot. All that hair could give a man ideas.”
“Where’s Clyde?” she asked, shaking off his arm with more force than was necessary.
“Here.”
He joined them and tried to kiss her, but she evaded him as well.
“What’s up, babe?” Peyton asked, pouring her a glass of wine. “You left here like you had something on your mind last night.”
“And you weren’t yourself after we showered together.”
Clyde sounded serious for once. If she hadn’t known better, Fabia would have mistaken his expression for one of genuine concern. But, of course, she knew a lot better and levelled a gaze on Peyton’s face.
“Why did you lie to me?” she asked.
“Pardon?” Both men appeared totally perplexed. “Lie to you about what?”
“About knowing my sister.”
“We didn’t,” Peyton said, looking her straight in the eye. “We only—”
“Don’t make matters worse by continuing to deny it,” she yelled. “I know she came here to the loft.”
They gaped when she produced Sonia’s phone from her bag and banged it down on the table. “It’s hers,” she said, “and I found it here, down the side of the swing seat. Did she join you in the hot tub, too?”
Damn, I shouldn’t have said that!
“Ah, I see.”
Peyton pinched the bridge of his nose and shared a penetrating glance with Clyde. “We’re gonna have to tell her.”
“Looks that way.”
“Sit down, Fabia, and we’ll explain. I know what you’re thinking, but we’re not the bad guys here.”
She hunched her shoulders defensively. “Could have fooled me.”
“And just for the record, Sonia didn’t get to watch the stars from the hot tub.”
“My sister always was a good judge of character.”
Peyton held up his hands. “Look, I know you’re mad, but it’s not what it seems.”
“We didn’t tell you the truth,” Clyde said, “because we wanted to protect you.”
Fabia frowned, not ready to believe they were as innocent as they made out. Not ready to believe anything they said, come to that.
“Protect me from what?” she asked belligerently.
Peyton sat beside her on the swing seat, took her hand, and drew intricate patterns on her palm with the pad of his thumb. Damn it, she reacted all the way to her pussy, even though she was determined not to fall for his noxious form of charm. She ought to have snatched her hand away but didn’t seem able to find the will. Clyde sat directly opposite and looked at her intently.
“Your dad was right about this place,” Peyton said. “It’s a front for all sorts of illegal activities.”
Fabia gasped. “What sort of activities?”
“What do you know about its background?” Clyde asked.
“Well, I know the major financier is Russian, but that’s not so unusual. The Costas are awash with Russian money.”
“With good reason,” Peyton told her. “Ever since the fall of communism and the breakup of the Soviet Union, Russia has turned into the European equivalent of the Wild West. It’s every man for himself. Crime and corruption are the order of the day. The Russian Mafia rule the roost and are totally lethal.”
“Absolutely without conscience,” Peyton agreed. “They make the Italian version look like Mickey Mouse. Racketeering, selling off military hardware, contract murders, gambling, prostitution…you name it.”
“And let me guess,” Fabia said, intrigued in spite of her determination not to be taken in with vague explanations and half-truths. “This place was built on the proceeds from those illegal activities.”
“Spot on. They have to launder it somehow.”
Fabia wrinkled her brow. This didn’t quite add up. “Surely the Spanish government knew that, so why let them build?”
“Yes they knew, but when times were good and money was pouring into Spain faster than the banks could mishandle it, they turned a blind eye. They didn’t particularly care where it came from, just so long as it kept on coming.”
“But now,” Clyde said, taking up the story, “the government’s skint and looking for ways to refill their coffers. If they bring this operation down, they could legally confiscate all the Russian assets here at Tosca Brava. It would amount to a very substantial payday.”
“Then they’re too late. The place is already built, so they can’t prove the money laundering.” Fabia frowned, examining their faces. “Or can they? What am I missing here?”
“Yes, it’s built, but the Russians still have a majority shareholding and—”
“And use the casino to continue laundering money.” Fabia finally got the full picture.
“Not just the casino. The flying school is the only independent operation here. The casino falls under the general management, and David Field has overall control. The Russians couldn’t channel great wedges of dosh through the casino without him knowing about it.”
“Ah, so he’s been persuaded to turn a blind eye.” Fabia shrugged. “I don’t much like him, but if threatened by ruthless Russians, I guess that didn’t leave him with a lot of options.”
“He’s in it up to his grimy little neck,” Clyde said. “So are Anton and the marina captain.”
“Anton?” Fabia pondered on that for a moment, feeling a ridiculous desire to defend her boss of two weeks. “Why?”
“The Russians obviously got wind of David’s precarious personal finances and offered him an easy way to sort it. In other words, he turns a blind eye to the casino racket, persuades people he can trust to manipulate their figures so more Russian ill-gotten gains can be channelled through those areas, and David and his cohorts get their cut.”
“Tennis and the marina not having goods that need to be sold to equate to takings.” Fabia nodded. “Just like the casino. Yes, I suppose that would account for the figures Anton tried to make me read out.”
Clyde grimaced. “It’s worked for years—”
“But then my dad got suspicious and Sonia started asking questions.” Fabia bit her lip. “Oh hell, what has she done? Where is she? Do you know?”
“No, we didn’t tell her any of what we’ve just told you,” Peyton said. “Unfortunately, she overheard me on my cell phone, talking about the Russian involvement here, which put her on to us. She fetched up here one evening, asking all sorts of questions, but she didn’t mention your dad, so we had no idea why she was asking.”
“What reason did she give?”
“She said she’d noticed discrepancies in the tennis coaching figures and wondered what was going on. We didn’t buy that but didn’t want to encourage her involvement, and so we played dumb.”
“Why did Anton duck that meeting yesterday and send me in blind?”
“That’s what we can’t figure.” Clyde shrugged. “Perhaps he really was stuck in traffic.”
“All right, let’s leave that to one side for a moment.” Fabia paused to assimilate all she’d just learned and arrange her thoughts into some sort of coherent order. It wasn’t easy, because she couldn’t rid her mind of the image of Sonia being held by some thuggish Russian. Or worse. “What do you think Sonia did after speaking to you?”
Peyton and Clyde shared a loaded glance. “She’s pretty smart, your sister.”
“No question.”
“She’d probably figured out the Russian money-laundering angle for herself. She mentioned that she’d done a lot of research into the situation in Russia.”
“Oh, Sonia, you idiot!” Fabia shook her head. “I should have stayed with her.”
“Then you’d both be missing,” Clyde said brutally.
>
“No, I could have talked her out of it. I know I could.”
“She didn’t tell us why she was so interested, but knowing what we know now, she probably figured they wouldn’t think twice about killing two innocent people like your mum and dad if they got in their way,” Peyton said, still holding her hand, genuine-seeming sympathy in his tone.
Fabia gasped. “But she didn’t have a scrap of evidence.”
“If she’d been straight with us about your parents then we’d have found a way to stop her.” Peyton rolled his eyes. “Talk about David and Goliath.”
“She told me in an e-mail that she’d managed to translate some of Dad’s diary entries but wouldn’t tell me more until we met in person.”
“Where are his diaries now?”
“Still at their house.” Fabia paused. “Unless Sonia had them with her, which I doubt.”
“We’d like to take a look at them.”
“You’re welcome, but I doubt they’ll tell you much. His notes were cryptic, just the odd initial here and there that meant nothing to us. It was clear he was worried about this place and feared being found guilty by association because he was a shareholder. He was worried about any profits he took not being kosher.” Fabia shrugged. “Dad was as straight as they come.”
“Even if the Russians did kill your parents, there’s no way on this earth that they’d ever admit to it.”
“But let me guess.” Fabia shook her head. “She went after them anyway.”
Peyton topped up her glass. Fabia thanked him, vaguely surprised that she’d drunk a full glass of wine without even realizing it.
“Have you noticed the large house, set by itself on the bluff?” Peyton asked.
“Yes, it’s pretty hard to miss. Who owns it?”
“It’s not-so-affectionately known as the Kremlin and is just as impregnable. The owner is the lynchpin of the money-laundering operation here. His name’s Dimitri Asimov. He comes and goes at will, but no one, absolutely no one, gets through the gates of that place unless they have legitimate business there.”
“You think Sonia tried to?” Fabia willed them to deny it but was already sure that she must have. It would be so typical of her hotheaded sister.