Deadly Embrace (50 page)

"Well... if you're sure I'm not disturbing you," Dani said, and
sat down at the table.

Shit
! Madison thought.
I
cannot believe this
woman has the temerity to sit down at our table, when I am having a
private dinner with my father
.

Michael didn't seem at all put out. Madison threw him a
narrow-eyed glare—just to let him know that she was
irritated.

"Dani's a friend of mine from Las Vegas," Michael explained.
"We've known each other for years."

"Oh," Madison said, totally uninterested.

"I'm in Miami for the jewelry show," Dani offered.

"Where's your husband?" Madison asked bluntly.
And why the hell
isn't he with you
?

"He, uh ... doesn't like to fly."

"I see," Madison said—although she didn't see at all. What
was this rather glamorous woman doing traveling by herself when she
should be at home with her husband? This was a big fat
drag
.

"We've ordered lobster," Michael said. "Would you like some?"

"Actually, I haven't eaten," Dani said. "So that would be very
nice. Lobster is my favorite."

Oh crap! She's staying for dinner
.

"Are you a friend of my mom's?" Madison asked rudely, suddenly
feeling a little protective of Stella.

"No, actually we've never met."

"Dani's husband is a business associate of mine in Vegas," Michael
explained.

"Have you ever been to Vegas?" Dani asked, all sweetness and big
blue eyes.

"Nope," Madison said, shaking her head. "I never go anywhere
except school, and summer camp, and home. Daddy and I came here for a
weekend together, just the two of us. Didn't we, Daddy?" -

Michael raised an eyebrow. Madison never called him Daddy, it was
always Michael. Suddenly he was Daddy. He had a feeling she was
marking her territory.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said. "I'll take you to Vegas one
of these days. It's quite a place."

"I gotta go to the John," Madison announced, abruptly standing up.
"See ya."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Dani said, "I don't think she
likes me."

"What do you mean?" Michael replied. "She doesn't
know
you.
If she knew the real you, she'd love you."

"No, I mean I don't think she likes me being here," Dani said,
sipping her wine. "Wasn't this weekend supposed to be just you and
her?"

"It
is
me and her. I'm spending the whole weekend with her.
I can see you once, can't I?"

"Is this the only time I get to see you?" she asked, leaning
forward.

"God! I love being with you," he said, studying her face. "Right
now I wish we were lying in bed, eating hamburgers, making love."

"In that order?" she asked, smiling.

"No." He grinned. "We'd make love first,
then
we'd order
hamburgers."

"You're funny, Michael," she said warmly. "I love you so
much."

"It's the greatest when we're together," he said contentedly. "I
feel no pressure. When I'm around Stella there's always pressure.
She's got so much going on, what with her social events and all that
shit. She's working on a hundred different agendas."

"You don't
have
to stay with her, Michael," Dani reminded
him gently. "Madison
is
sixteen."

"I can't tell Madison the truth," he said, his tone hardening.
"It's not going to happen, Dani."

"That's fine," she said, instantly backing off. "No pressure from
me
."

"How's Vincent doing?"

"Surrounded by girls—as usual. They won't leave him
alone."

"That's good."

"No, it's not. I don't want him knocking up some little
bimbo."

"I knocked
you
up, didn't I?"

"That was different."

"Yeah, when it's you and me it's always different. Right?"

She smiled. "Can I hold your hand under the table, Michael? Is
that allowed?"

"As long as it's only my hand."

"Oooh—naughty, naughty."

"Hey—maybe when Madison's asleep, I'll slip out and come by
your hotel."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I
definitely
think so."

* * *

Madison made her way to the ladies' room, where she studied her
reflection in the mirror. Tall blond women always made her feel
inadequate. Her mother was tall and blond. In fact, there was a
slight resemblance between this Dani woman and her mom. Except Stella
was more refined looking, not as glamorous as Dani Castle.

Madison knew she looked like her father, with her dark skin, green
eyes, and black hair. It didn't thrill her. Why couldn't she be more
like Jamie? Jamie was quite gorgeous—boys
always
took
notice of her.

Madison had not experienced much success with boys. She was too
smart. Besides-, the boarding school she attended was girls only. So
were the summer camps she went to. Therefore, she didn't know much
about boys—unlike Jamie, who, according to her, was constantly
fighting them off.

I'm sixteen
, she thought.
It's about time I did
something wild and exciting. I'm a woman, I
should be fighting
off gorgeous guys. Or not fighting them off—depending how I
feel. I'm a writer, I need the experience
.

She splashed cold water on her face and applied a dab of lip
gloss.

I
still look gawky and awkward
, she thought.
I
look about fourteen. Fourteen and an inexperienced
jerk
.

Maybe I should dye my hair blond, that would make boys notice
me
.

She walked out of the ladies' room and bumped straight into a man
in a white suit, a man who closely resembled Michael Douglas. Only,
unfortunately it wasn't Michael Douglas, whom she'd just seen in
Fatal Attraction
and fallen madly in love with.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Not looking where you're going, young lady?" the man said. He had
sandy-colored hair and a deep suntan. Maybe there was a bit of Robert
Redford mixed in with Michael Douglas.

"I was thinking."

"And what would a beautiful young lady like you be thinking about
that made you appear so earnest?"

Wow! Is this older man actually coming on to me? This man, who
is probably the same age as my dad. Wow
!

"Uh ... I was thinking how nice it is here, and how I'm going to
write about it."

"Are you a writer?"

"Yes," she lied. "I sometimes write for
Rolling Stone
. Bits
and pieces, you know."

"I'm very impressed."

They stared at each other. This older man and this young,
exotic-looking girl.

"Is this your first trip to Miami?"

"It certainly is, and I love it—well, what I've seen so
far."

"I live in the penthouse," he said. "It's my permanent home."

"Cool."

"If I can show you around at all, just let me know. My name's
Frankie."

"Frankie," she repeated.

"Frankie Medina. And you are?"

"Madison Castelli."

"Pretty name. Pretty girl."

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Michael Douglas?" she
blurted out.

"Only better looking, I hope," he said, smiling. He had nice
teeth, capped probably, but nice all the same.

"Of course," she said quickly.

"Yeah, I've been told that," he said with a lazy grin. "Only, I'm
not looking for a fatal attraction."

She laughed, having just seen the movie too. Glenn Close was a
blond in it. She definitely had to change her hair color.

"If you get lonely later," Frankie Medina said, "give me a call."
And he handed her a little gold card with his name embossed in black
and a phone number.

"I might do that," she said boldly.

"You
are
very pretty," he said.

Oh my God! He is coming on to me
. "I just washed my hair,"
she said.
Like, what a stupid thing to say
.

"What did you use—a magic shampoo that makes you even
prettier?" She giggled.

"Call me," he said. "I'll give you a ride in my Porsche."

Hmm. A penthouse and a Porsche. How very sexy
.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"What do I do?" he repeated with a big smile. "I'm a
playboy—what else?"

At which point a gorgeous blond emerged from the ladies'
room—yes, another blond—and immediately clung
possessively to his arm.

"See ya," Madison said, and quickly took off.

Back at the table, Michael and Dani Castle seemed to be getting
more than friendly. Madison could almost feel them move apart as she
approached.

"Where were you?" Michael asked. "I was gonna send out a hunting
party."

"Guess what?" she said. "I bumped into an old friend, too."

"You did?" Michael said.

"Yes," she said, surreptitiously sliding Frankie Medina's card
into her purse.

To Madison's annoyance, Dani Castle hung around all through
dinner. She ate lobster, she drank wine, she talked to Michael. Too
bad! What could have been a wonderful dinner was ruined.

As soon as they were finished, Madison excused herself. "I'm kind
of tired," she said. "Do you mind if I go upstairs?"

"You sure, sweetheart?" Michael said.

"I really am. I want to wake up early and hit the beach," she
said, getting up from the table. " 'Night, Mrs. Castle."

"Good night, Madison," Dani said warmly. "It was a pleasure
meeting you."

Yeah, well
, Madison thought,
the pleasure is all
yours
.

She walked away from the table and wandered outside. She was not
tired at all, she was just tired of watching her father cozy up to
the tall blond.

The beach beckoned, so she decided to take a long walk, which she
did, enjoying every second of the roaring ocean and the feel of the
sand on her bare feet.

When she arrived back at the hotel, it was quite late. Frankie
Medina was standing in the lobby, resplendent in his white suit and
deep suntan.

"Hey—here comes that beautiful girl again," he said. "The
one with the lonely eyes."

"Do you think I have lonely eyes?"

"Yes."

Hmm... Poetic too. A poetic playboy. Just what I feel
like
.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"I took a walk along the beach. It was great."

"I used to do that when I first moved here."

"Where did you move here from?"

"You don't wanna know."

"About that Porsche you were telling me about..."

"Would you care to take a ride?"

"Why not?"

Now
this
was an adventure.

His Porsche was low slung, black, and very sexy. It also featured
a great sound system. He put on Frank Sinatra's
In the Wee Small
Hours
.

"Don't you have any Bon Jovi or Janet Jackson?" she asked,
disappointed by his choice of music.

"Listen and learn. Sinatra is the greatest."

He was rather sweet. Old, but sweet.

He zipped her around town in his Porsche, pointing out the sights,
Sinatra crooning away.

"You're a regular tour guide," she said, enjoying every
moment.

"How old are you, Madison?"

"Eighteen," she lied, like her father before her.

"You're a baby."

"No, I'm not," she said indignantly. "Eighteen is hardly a baby.
How old are
you
?"

"Forty," he lied, shaving off five years. "You want to come up and
see my penthouse?"

"Do I need my passport to get up there?"

"Just bring your luscious self."

Luscious self. Wow
!

"What happened to that blond you were with earlier?" she
asked.

"They come and they go," he said vaguely. "Interchangeable blond
babes—I got a dozen of'em."

"Oh, that's
right
, you're a
playboy
."

He laughed. "Yeah, that's exactly what I am."

"Then maybe I should write about you," she said archly. " 'Profile
of a Playboy.' What do you think?"

"I think you're cute."

"Thanks!"

His penthouse was the most beautiful apartment she'd ever been in,
far nicer than their place in New York, which she considered
overdecorated and too antiquey—Stella's taste. The penthouse
featured an enormous living room furnished in white, modern,
minimalist style. Vast walls of windows overlooking the ocean. And a
fantasy bedroom with an oversized water bed covered in rose petals.
It was the most glamorous place she'd ever seen.

"What's with the rose petals?" she asked as he gave her the
tour.

"They're an aphrodisiac."

"Right," she said, reminding herself to look up "aphrodisiac" in
the dictionary, although she had a vague idea that it had
something
to do with sex.

After sipping a glass of cold champagne with peaches floating in
it, she turned to him and said, "When are you going to make a move on
me?"

"Eighteen's a little young for me," he answered, adjusting the
sound on his stereo by remote.

"Oh, c'mon," she challenged. "You're a playboy with a Porsche and
a penthouse. You can make a move on me."

"I'd feel like a dirty old man."

"You
are
a dirty old man," she said. And she threw her arms
around his neck and started to kiss him.

"Madison," he said, trying to extract himself from her. "Even
I've
got
some
principles."

"Well, drop 'em," she said. " 'Cause I'm in Miami to have
fun."

"Then the first thing you'd better do is learn how to kiss."

"
Excuse
me?"

"Kiss, baby. Pucker up. I'm about to give you a lesson you will
never
forget."

* * *

The weekend went by only too quickly. Michael noticed that Madison
seemed to be in an extremely good mood, and even better, she gave him
plenty of time to himself.