A Gentle Rain (38 page)

"He's adorable."

"Yes, but he's a shitty poker player. We come here twice a year, and every time he loses ten grand. But he loves it. He gets to talk business and smoke big cigars and ogle the naked girls and pretend he's at Monte Carlo in a James Bond movie. Big fun for a man who spends his days wholesaling factory carvings of Chinese dragons to home decorating stores. I indulge him. In return, he takes my mother with us for a two-week Caribbean cruise every fall."

"Excuse me. Naked women? Where? When?"

She waved to a waiter to bring us another martini. About that time, a man stepped onto the patio below us and began playing jazz saxophone. In one corner of the patio, a disc jockey was setting up equipment to play something far more raucous than jazz. Bettie clucked her tongue at me. "Oh, honey, you innocent little landlubber. You haven't seen anything, yet."

Ben

Phil had warned me about Arn Leroy's sly ways, but I had to see `em to believe `em.

By midnight the jazz guy was gone and the DJ and his damned pop music were busting everybody's eardrums. "Bee Gees. Everybody likes the Bee Gees," Arn shouted from his table at the center of the action. About that time the first lanky girl shimmied out of her dress and started dancing naked beside the pool. Then another one. And another one. I counted five. The other players couldn't even pretend to concentrate.

Phil didn't warn me about the pool-orgy part. I guess that was Arn's idea of a handicap. If a man could keep his concentration while naked women bounced around, he deserved to take home the jackpot.

I got up for a ten-minute break between rounds and looked for Karen. She waved from the balcony, then propped her chin on one hand. Made a big show of looking bored. The woman beside her, Woodrow Riggin's wife, Bettie, grinned at me then blew Woodrow a kiss. Me and Woodrow had bonded over a beer. "My wife's gonna kill me if I look at those naked girls too much," he confided. "The only reason I come here is to test my courage." He paused. "And for the great sex after me and Bettie get back to our boat."

I sent a note up to Karen through a waiter. You want to leave?

She sent a note back. I can handle the disco brothel atmosphere. just concentrate on playing to win.

During the next round, one of the naked girls was sittin' on the side of the pool rubbin' her bare breasts with her hands. Then she wandered over and began rubbing my shoulders. I'd ditched my jacket, and she slid her hands along my shirt like a masseuse. I gave her a smile. "Thanks, baby, but I'm tryin' to concentrate. Go rub somebody else the right way."

"It's the house rules," she whispered. "Sorry, but all the players in the final rounds get shoulder rubs." Her breasts bounced against my back.

"Welcome to the championship arena, me buckos," Arn yelled, grinning. Naked girls had taken up position behind the other players, too. "You're a fine group of finalists. Now sit ye down and let's have at it. See if you can best Cap'n LaRoi, the best poker player on the Seven Seas."

The DJ started playin' hip hop music loud enough to split eardrums, and the naked girls sidled even closer. The good cap'n knew how to stack the deck in his favor. Especially since the girls weren't just naked, they were eying everybody's cards. Probably signaling him. The game was rigged.

I looked up at Karen. Her and Woodrow's wife eyed the scene like sharks sizing up swimmers.

The next time I looked up at the balcony, they were gone.

Trouble.

Kara

The DJ bent down to me and lifted one of his earphones. "Turn off that music," I ordered. "This is a poker tournament, not a CIA experiment in psychological warfare."

He laughed, pulled his headphones back into place, and turned his back. "Women," he said.

He didn't mean it in a good way.

I gestured to Bettie to follow me. We picked our way, barefoot, through a maze of cables and electrical lines. "Ahah," I mouthed, and picked up a main power chord. I followed it to an outlet box. I gave a jerk, and the pronged plug popped free.

The music died.

"Hey, girls, that isn't a joke," the DJ yelled. "Am wants the music loud."

"This," I replied. "Is an intervention." I sawed my jeweled facon across the power chord. The plug severed neatly from the cord.

Bettie chortled. As the DJ cursed and searched for a new power chord, we headed for the pool. Ain scowled. "What happened to my music? And my dancing wenches?"

The naked girls stood behind the players, looking awkward without the cocoon of a strong bass beat. I gestured at them curtly. "Time to get dressed, my friends. Get your hands off these men and your eyes off the cards they're holding."

"Are you accusing me of cheating?" Arn thundered.

Ben stood. His hand went to the gun in his pocket. "Watch how you talk to her."

"She's calling me a cheater."

"If the peg leg fits ..."

"How dare you, you ... cowboy!" He glared at me. "Why did you bring this untrusting wench to my event?"

"She's my bodyguard."

Arn pointed at me. "You don't trust me?"

I studied him for a moment. He obviously enjoyed his persona, and the drama of confrontation thrilled him. This performance was his tribal ritual. Rituals are delicate creatures, nurtured by superstition, tradition and pride. I would take his rituals seriously.

"You're a pirate," I said hotly. "Pirates are powerful and controlling. Cheating is your nature. It's not a fault. In the pirate world, it's an asset."

Bingo. He craned his head. His eyes flashed. He was empowered and therefore, appreciative. I had given him a way to save face. But the other players, not understanding the heady context of pirate provocation, merely looked unhappy. "I don't come here to get cheated," Woodrow said. "Bettie, are you my bodyguard?"

"Yes, honey, and it's time to kick some ass."

Arn scowled. "Woodrow, you'll play by my rules or not at all." He jabbed his hand at me. "And as for you-"

"I want these girls removed, Cap'n."

One of the naked girls, a leggy brunette, harrumphed loudly and put her hands on her hips. "What makes you think we'll take orders from you?"

"Bettie, hand me the shoes, please."

Bettie whipped a pair of high-heeled designer shoes from behind her back. I clasped them by their stiletto heels and aimed my knife at their pointed toes. "Do as I say," I ordered the girls, "or these Manolo Blahniks get cut."

The brunette shrieked. "Those cost four-hundred dollars."

"Then they'll make expensive confetti."

Arn's security people eased toward Ben and me. Ben's hand slid closer to his hidden pistol. Woodrow put a hand inside his tux jacket. The security team saw that gesture and halted. I whispered to Bettie, "Is he carrying a gun?"

"No, that's where he keeps his asthma inhaler. But what a bluff!"

Arn jabbed his finger at me. "This is my island, my tournament, and my rules! You ungrateful siren of the seas! All right! State your demands. What do you want?"

"A fair game. No loud music. No naked dancers. Pure poker. So that Ben and Woodrow and the other gentlemen at the table aren't distracted."

"This is my pirate island and I-"

The brunette shrieked as I poked the tip of my sharp fctcon into the toe of her shoe. She held out her hands to Arn. "Arnie, baby, please. My Manolo Blahniks are at stake."

Stand-off Arn finally sagged. He frowned fiercely at Ben. "Where did you get her? Off a ship of female pirates?"

"Aye," Ben drawled. "They call her 'Cap'n Karen, of the Amazons."'

"All right. No more music. No more dancers. But you"-he pointed at me again-"are under house arrest from now until the last hand is played. And so are you, Bettie. Into the brig with you both!"

"Honey," Woodrow called. "It won't be long. Have another martini."

Bettie and I traded a look. We shrugged. I looked at Arn. "It's a deal, Cap'n. I thank you for your decision. But you'll forgive me if I don't take chances with a pirate." I waggled my knife at the shoes again.

He preened. I had him. "As well you shouldn't, Cap'n Karen."

"My Manolos," the brunette moaned.

I arched a brow at her. "You'll get them back when the tournament's over."

"Put on a shirt, you hoochie," Bettie yelled.

Bettie and I backed slowly indoors, trailed by Arn's security guards. I kept the knife on the Manolo Blahniks, holding them hostage.

I only had time for one last glance. I met Ben's eyes.

He had never looked prouder.

Bettie and I were held prisoner in the island's nautically themed kitchen. Arn's Jamaican chef forced me to help him fill in the blanks of his Sudoku puzzle book. Bettie entertained herself by guarding the Manolos.

"Eat, honey," Bettie urged, waving a lobster canape at me. "We may be prisoners of the evil Cap'n, but we don't have to starve."

I shook my head. My stomach was a cauldron of nerves. She didn't know what the jackpot meant to Ben, me, and everyone at the ranch. I looked at a clock. "It's nearly two a.m. How can they not be finished with the prize round?"

Suddenly, the kitchen's doors swung open. Ben stepped in. His face was neutral. He looked suave and cool in his tux. No sign of sweat. But no sign of success, either. My heart rose in my throat. I walked up to him. I searched his face. "It's all right," I said. "We'll find some other way to-"

"I won." A slow, rakish smile spread across his face. "Cap'n LaRoi's not real happy about it." Ben pulled a slip of paper from his jacket's inner breast pocket. "But he paid up. Sixty grand. The entry fee plus what we owe Shakey at the pawn shop. The cash will be waiting by the time we get back to the motel."

I squealed shamelessly and kissed him. He lifted me off my feet and kissed me back, while Bettie, the security guards, and even the Jamaican chef and his catering staff applauded.

We had successfully keelhauled the car-part king of the Caribbean pirates.

To ho.

Ben

There's nothing like drunken' rum on a moonlit beach with sixty grand stashed in your motel room and the woman you love smiling beside you on the sand. Karen sat cross-legged with the drop-dead-sexy red gown hiked up around her thighs. I'd chucked the niceties and wore just my black trousers and white undershirt.

"Arrrgh," I said like a pirate, and handed her the bottle again. Courtesy of Cap'n LaRoi.

She took another deep swig. "Arrrgh," she said.

"You and me, we beat the system. Together. We beat it."

"We certainly did. Arrrgh."

"That's the thing. Since you came into my life ... it feels like, with you and me together, there's a fightin' chance the system won't always win."

Karen's smile said I couldn't have told her anything better. Then it wavered a little. "You don't have to compliment me."

"Aw, come on. Who's always tellin' who to accept a compliment at face value?"

She laughed a little but then got shy on me. She looked away, sipped from the bottle again, and shrugged. "I have trouble taking my own advice."

"I meant every word I said."

She looked at me, shyness gone, eyes glowing. "We can beat the system, together. I promise you."

Now I got a little shy, took the rum bottle, downed a swallow, then planted the bottle in the sand. My courage up, I looked her straight in the eye. "Did those naked girls make you jealous?"

"Let's just say this. If Arn had thrown one more naked girl your way, I'd have gutted him, her, and her Manolos."

"So, that's a `Yes.' A little jealous, were you?"

She got real quiet. So did I. "Very," she whispered.

"No need to be," I whispered back. "There's not a woman on this earth I'd rather look at more than you. Naked or otherwise. But ... you, naked, well, that would be good."

We bent our heads together. The sand was warm, the moon was bright, the salt air curled around us with a cool touch. She pulled back just enough to look at me with her blue eyes gone dark with need. "What happens here stays here," she said.

"Then come here," I whispered.

She did.

Our first time was wild and quick.

Our second time was slow and rich. Good love makes a stew of sugar and spice. Hard and soft. Wet and dirty. Look, yeah, that's not elegant to say it that way; I ain't a poet. But I've never known anything as good as Karen's hands stroking the insides of my thighs, I've never heard anything sweeter than my name on her lips, and I've never wanted anything more than to make her happy.