Deadly Embrace (39 page)

"Believe what you want."

"What I
want
is to kiss you."

"Go ahead," she said breathlessly.

He did so until she felt his erection pressing against her
leg.

Gently she pushed him away. "You're insatiable," she murmured.

"You make me that way."

"I'm glad," she said, smiling.

"Uh, Dani," he said, suddenly turning serious. "There's things I
gotta tell you. Stuff I don't want to get into now."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll call you," he said, kissing her again, knowing that he'd
finally found some kind of peace, and that meant everything.

The van ricocheted down the back alley. Madison stared straight
ahead through the front window, eyes alert, ready to duck if she
spotted anything blocking their way. A helicopter hovered above. It
was probably from a TV station. There was no way the cops could
control the media; they ran their own game.

"Make a left at the end of the alley onto Beverly," the gunman
said. "Anybody gets in your way—hit the motha-fuckers."

Madison turned her head to see if Natalie was okay. The woman with
the gash on her temple was quietly sobbing.

This is crazy
, she thought.
Where the hell does he think
we're going? What's his plan? He'd have been better off staying in
the restaurant and giving himself up
.

Cole swerved onto Beverly, sideswiping a Jaguar.

"You see any red lights ahead," the ringleader shouted, "jump 'em.
Don't even think about it."

"We could all be killed," the woman in the back wailed.

"If he don't do what I'm tellin' him, you'll all be dead
anyway."

* * *

"You're actually taking me to a business meeting?" Jolie said, quite
pleased with herself. This was a first, and she liked it.

"Hey, babe—thought you should see how the professionals do
it."

"How the professionals do what?"

"I'm taking you to a strip club I might buy into."

"You're taking
me
to a strip club?" Jolie said, raising an
eloquent eyebrow.

"Got a feelin' you'll find it very educational," Nando said,
grinning.

"Are you intimating that I need lessons?"

"That's the last thing
you
need. I want you to meet these
guys I might partner with, see what you think."

"And how is Vincent involved?"

"He's not."

"Why?"

" 'Cause Vincent is livin' in the past. He doesn't get that Vegas
is changin'."

"Do you honestly think it is?"

"Sure it is. We're goin' back to the basics—girls an' sex,
that's the coming wave."

"Whatever happened to family?"

"That side of the business is over."

"Tell
that
to the mom-and-pop brigade."

"Now, honey," Nando said in his most persuasive voice. "This place
I'm takin' you to is kind of sleazy, but knowing you—you'll see
the potential. With your eye for style, you'll imagine how it can
look when you redecorate, or do whatever it takes to make the place
hot. If this works out, I might even give you a piece of the
action."

"You will?"

"Yeah," he said magnanimously. "Why not?"

"I've never heard you speak like this before, Nando."

"It's amazing what a workout on the pole will do, huh, babe?" He
laughed. "When you meet these two guys you'll hate 'em on sight. Bear
in mind they are sittin' on a money-makin'
machine
."

"Am I correct in assuming that if Vincent went in with you, you
wouldn't need partners? You'd buy them out, right?"

"And she's smart, too."

"Maybe I should talk to Vincent," she mused.

"You got influence with my best friend
I
don't?"

"I'm a woman, Nando. Sometimes it makes a difference."

"Yeah, babe—you're a woman all right."

"Tell me about these guys we're meeting."

"They're a couple of black dudes who've been around awhile. You'll
charm the pants off both of'em."

"I do hope you don't mean that literally."

"Baby, you ever
look
at another man, an' he'll be wearing
his balls in the back of his throat."

"It's nice to know you care, Nando."

"Yeah, isn't it?"

* * *

"You've never done coke?" Andy Dale said, sounding as surprised as if
she'd told him she'd never drunk a glass of milk.

Jenna shook her head, blond hair swirling around her shoulders.
"No, my husband doesn't approve of drugs."

"Drugs, my ass," Andy said. "Coke is not a drug—it's
recreational, like smoking and booze. If doctors could, they'd give
out prescriptions for it. It's that simple."

"I thought it turned people into
drug
addicts."

"Who told you that? Your old man?"

"Vincent says that drugs destroy anyone who takes them."

"That's
hard
drugs, cookie. Heroin and all that shit. I'll
tell you what happens when you take coke. You relax, lay back, have a
good time.
And
you also have wild sex. Look at Anais."

She glanced across the luxurious room at Anais, who'd decided to
remove all her clothes, except for a minute thong and many gold
crosses hanging on chains around her neck.

"Does she look like she's an addict?"

"No, Andy, she doesn't."

"Then take a snort. You're too uptight. C'mon, I'll show you
how."

"I only came here to apologize for Vincent's behavior. Sometimes
he doesn't understand that people in the movie business are
different."

"You understand, don't you?" Andy said, grabbing her hand.

"Of course, I do. I mean, you're artistic, you're an actor, an
artiste."

"Yeah, that's what I am," Andy said, pleased with her description.
"An artiste. Now," he added, leading her over to the bar, where he'd
set out several lines of coke, "I'm gonna roll this bill, and you'll
hold it to your cute little nose and, like, breathe in.
Y
know, snort it. Can you do that?"

"Are you
sure
it won't have a bad effect on me?" she asked,
feeling the tiniest bit insecure.

"Positive."

She took the bill from him, gingerly snorted the cocaine, and
immediately sneezed, scattering some of the white powder onto the
floor.

"Jesus Christ!" Andy shouted. "What the fuck are you
doing
?"

"Sorry," she said, quite humiliated that she could have done such
a thing.

"It's good I got plenty," he grumbled.

Anais wandered over. "Put some on my tits," she commanded,
thrusting her bare bosom at him.

"Later," he said, waving her away.

"Now," she said imperiously—a woman used to getting her own
way. "And some on my pussy, too."

"I'll be with you in a minute," Andy said, frowning. "I'm trying
to teach Jenna how to snort without blowing everything all over the
floor."

"Order more champagne," Anais said, not giving up with her
demands. "I want to wash my hair."

"You're washing your hair
now
?" he said, finally paying
attention.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Anais smiled dreamily. "If my boyfriend knew I was here, he
wouldn't be happy."

"Who
is
your boyfriend?" Andy asked, unaware that she had
one.

"He's mega rich," she said. "Mega, mega, mega rich."

"So am I," Andy said, which wasn't strictly true, because by the
time he'd paid his agent, publicist, stylist, manager, driver, and
business manager, there was not that much left.

"Order
ten
bottles of champagne," Anais said, distractedly
touching her nipples. "And I'll bathe in it."

"Maybe you should just go wash your hair," he said, turning back
to Jenna, who by this time was feeling light-headed and adventurous.
"You ready to try again?" he asked.

"Yes," she said eagerly. "I'm ready."

* * *

Michael tried calling Madison twice. He didn't leave a message on her
answering machine because he did not consider it safe to alert anyone
where he was.

"At least you
know
where Madison is," Dani said. "How do we
go about finding Sofia?"

"Good question," Michael replied. "When did you last hear from
her?"

"A couple of weeks ago. She was in Marbella, in Spain."

"I don't know why you allow her to travel around the world by
herself," Vincent grumbled. 'You should
insist
that she comes
home."

"Have
you
ever tried telling Sofia
anything
?" Dani
replied. "Even when she was very young she wouldn't listen to
reason."

"The kid probably takes after me," Michael said. "Does things her
way."

"And look where it's gotten
you
," Dani said.

"Did she give you an address or phone number in Marbella?" Michael
asked, ignoring her remark. "Somewhere we can reach her?"

"She said she was working as a photographer at a nightclub."

"A photographer!" Vincent exclaimed. "What kind of job is
that?"

"Did she mention what club?" Michael said.

"She didn't say," Dani replied. 'You know Sofia—every time
she calls, she refuses to leave a number."

"I'll get someone on it," Vincent said. "We'll find her."

"Hey," Michael said. "The good thing is, if we don't find her,
nobody else can."

"You think it's that serious?" Vincent said.

"Yeah, it's serious."

"What's your next move?"

"I'm flying to L.A. in the morning. There's someone I have to
see."

"Who?"

"Nobody you know," Michael said abruptly. "Take care of the things
I asked you to. I'll be in touch. Anybody comes asking questions, I
wasn't here, an' that includes your wife."

"I know
that
," Vincent said.

"Good."

"How
is
Jenna?" Dani asked.

"She's fine, Mom," Vincent said quickly. He knew how his mother
felt about his wife, and he refused to give her the satisfaction of
telling her she was right. He'd work it out with Jenna in his own
way. And if that meant a divorce—so be it.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Sofia awoke again. She was close to a
man, a stranger, and he felt so good in his silk pajamas. She
snuggled closer, rubbing her hands over the smooth material, loving
the feel of it.

Nobody wore pajamas anymore. Why wasn't he naked? She spooned even
closer. He stirred in his sleep.

She moved her hands downward and felt that he was pleased to see
her. By the time he awoke fully, she was making love to him, riding
him in a wild fashion.

"My God!" Gianni gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not playing tennis," she giggled. "Shut up and enjoy it."

He put his hands on her shoulders, vigorously pushing her off.

"Are you nuts?" she said. "I'm making
love
to you. Isn't
that what you want?"

"No, Sofia, it's
not
," he said, angrily sitting up in
bed.

"Of course it is," she said accusingly. "You were hard, you were
ready."

"I was
asleep
," he said, reaching for the light switch.

"Oh my God, you
are
gay, aren't you?" she gasped.

"No, Sofia," he said crossly. "I am
not
gay."

He got out of bed, marched into the bathroom, and slammed the
door.

This was a first. A man who didn't want to get laid.

When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he had put
on a bathrobe over his silk pajamas and was still angry.

"Do you always make love with complete strangers?" he asked.

"You weren't exactly reluctant."

"I told you before, Sofia—I was asleep. I thought I was
dreaming."

"Some cool dream, huh?" she said, beginning to feel a bit
foolish.

"I do not indulge in casual sex. Especially with a girl I'm
supposed to be in charge of."

"In charge of?" she exclaimed. "You've
got
to be kidding
me."

"If I was going to have sex with a woman, I would certainly want
to know a lot more about her than I do about you."

"Oh," she said, insulted. "You're perfectly safe. I don't have any
sexual diseases or anything."

"Is this always the way you behave with people you don't
know?"

"Not always," she said, deciding that she hated him and was glad
they hadn't made love.

"You're lucky I didn't take advantage of you."

"Are you saying I'm lucky you didn't
come
inside me?"

"You have an extremely vulgar way of putting things."

"And I suppose your girlfriend, Anais, is the perfect lady."

"Anais has nothing to do with you."

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, suddenly contrite. "I thought it
would be a nice kind of payment for you letting me stay here."

"So now you're a whore?"

"Fuck
you
!" she yelled, leaping off the bed. How dare he
say such a thing to her? Who the hell did he think he was?

He was silent.

"Look," she said at last, "I like you. I like being here. I was
happy
to get into bed with you. Why're you so uptight?"

"You need to realize that things are not always as easy as you
think. A thank-you
is not
sleeping with someone. I do not
require sexual favors."

"What are you," she said rudely, "faithful to your
girlfriend?"

He sighed. "You don't understand, do you?"

"Most men would be very happy to sleep with me."

"I'm sure they would."

"Don't you find me sexy?"

"You're very sexy."

"Well then,
what
?"

"I'm too tired to argue, Sofia," he said, yawning. "You take the
bed, I'll take the couch. We'll talk about this in the morning."

"Whatever," she said, glaring at him. "We'll play it your way. I
suppose everyone always does."

* * *

"Call those mothafuckers an' tell 'em to get that helicopter outta
here, or I'm throwin' one of you from the van."