Goddess of Vengeance (49 page)

Randy was glad Mikey had said it; he was embarrassed by the sight of another man’s equipment. Jeez! Some people had no sense of modesty. This wasn’t a porno shoot, this was real life.

Luscious wiped her hand across her mouth and snatched up Armand’s pants which she then handed to him.

He put them on and regarded his visitors. ‘Who are these people?’ he demanded of Luscious. ‘Why are they here?’

‘It’s only my boyfriend, Randy, an’ his brother, Mikey,’ she said, retrieving her skimpy tank top and short skirt from the corner and slipping them on. ‘They’re gonna take care of that stuff you wanted done. Remember?’

‘What stuff?’ Armand asked, realizing that if the room didn’t stop spinning he was likely to lose his balance.

‘You
know
,’ Luscious said, nudging him. ‘Money no object stuff.’

‘Ah . . .’ Armand said, stumbling slightly.

Then it occurred to him that he’d actually done it, he’d hired himself a hit man. Or two.

While they were talking, Randy edged closer to Luscious. ‘Ya never told me you sucked ’em off,’ he said, managing a hurt expression. ‘What’s up with
that?
’

‘Gets me more big bucks for
you
to spend,’ she responded tartly. ‘An’ why you gotta bring Mikey with you?’

‘’Cause Mikey knows what he’s doin’.’

‘An’ you don’t?’

‘Who’d you need takin’ care of?’ Mikey said, stepping toward Armand. ‘An’ be aware, it’s gonna cost you, friend. Plenty. I don’t work cheap.’

Once again Armand attempted to gather his thoughts. This was not the usual way he conducted business. And this
was
business, urgent business.

Where was Fouad when he needed him? Fouad always took care of the details.

‘I have the money,’ he said. ‘Whatever the price for your services. But before you get anything, you will have to sign a non-disclosure agreement.’

‘Are you shittin’ me?’ Mikey responded, shaking his head in disgust. ‘Listen to this guy,’ he added to no one in particular.

‘If you don’t sign,’ Armand said grandly, ‘how do I know this matter will stay between us?’

Mikey gave a hollow laugh. ‘Twenty-five grand for the job. Cash. You got that kinda moola sittin’ around?’

‘Of course,’ Armand said with a lofty nod.

‘Half up front. The rest when it’s done,’ Mikey said. ‘Who’s the target? You got a picture? And I’ll need t’know where to find ’em.’

Armand stared at him blankly.

Mikey was beginning to tense up as he waited for an answer. His body language screamed that he was about to do someone harm for dragging him out of his house and away from his big screen TV where he’d been watching a programme about killer whales.

He noticed Seducta, moved closer to her and kicked her off the couch with the tip of his snakeskin boot.

She bounced to the floor and surfaced in a groggy stupor.

‘Put your clothes on,’ he ordered. ‘We’re outta here.’

‘Huh?’ she muttered.

Luscious suppressed a triumphant smirk. Randy could see for himself what a piece of trash his brother had married. Maybe he’d stop coming on to Seducta now that he’d observed what a skank she really was.

‘We’re goin’,’ Mikey repeated.

‘You can’t leave,’ Luscious said quickly. ‘Arnie here wants t’make a deal, doncha, Arnie?’

‘A non-fuckin’ disclosure agreement,’ Mikey grumbled. ‘What the fuck. This shit’s not for me. This is a handshake deal, or I’m out.’

Luscious tugged on Armand’s arm. ‘You told me you wanted somethin’ done,’ she whined. ‘I got these guys here special. Which means you gotta tell ’em what you want, an’ work it out, otherwise they’re leavin’. An’ you don’t want that, do you?’

No, Armand decided, he didn’t want that. There was a job to be done, and he understood that money had to exchange hands.

He was a businessman.

A Prince.

This could all be settled to everyone’s satisfaction.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

E
merging from the shower with a towel wrapped around her, sarong-style, and a smile on her face, Denver walked right into Bobby as he let himself into their suite.

‘Hey,’ he said, feigning surprise. ‘I was hoping I’d find you here.’

‘That’s perfect,’ she answered brightly. ‘’Cause I was hoping the same thing.’

‘Were you now?’

‘Yes, indeed.’

They grinned knowingly at each other.

‘So . . .’ Denver continued. ‘Where were you?’

‘Well, I, uh, finished up at the club,’ Bobby said, scratching his head. ‘Then I came directly here.’

‘Directly?’

‘Kinda. Had a little detour on the way.’

‘A detour?’

‘Met this beautiful woman at the Blackjack table.’

‘Really? And who might she be?’

‘I think her name was . . .’ he thought for a moment. ‘Uh . . . Chicago.’

‘Chicago, huh?’

‘Right. Gorgeous woman, with real breasts, long silky hair, fantastic legs, and best of all – a taste for adventure.’

‘Should I be jealous?’

‘I dunno. It depends.’ A long beat. ‘Where were
you?
’

‘Ah,’ Denver answered mysteriously. ‘I ran into a tall dark stranger with mad sexy moves and a hard . . . body.’

‘Sounds exciting.’

‘It was. We had sex in the elevator.’

‘Hmm . . .’ Bobby said lustfully. ‘Tell me something – did he make you come the way I’m about to make you come?’ And with a deft flick of his wrist he removed her towel.

They both burst out laughing as the towel dropped to the ground.

‘Oh my God!’ Denver exclaimed, still laughing. ‘You’re insatiable.’

‘You bet I am, and don’t you just love it,’ Bobby said, steering her into the bedroom and onto the bed.

She smiled up at him as he began to kiss her very deliberately. Then at a slow pace, his tongue started moving down her body until he gently spread her legs, and began going down on her.

Throwing her head back, she luxuriated in his touch. His hands were on her thighs, holding them apart. Once again she felt deliciously trapped.

After a few minutes he came up for air. ‘You’re making me forget about Chicago,’ he said. ‘That woman is becoming just another distant memory.’

‘And that’s exactly the way it should be,’ Denver murmured dreamily, thinking that this was definitely turning out to be a weekend to remember.

*   *   *

On one hand Kev felt guilty, on the other hand he thought, screw it – he was entitled to make some decent money. Billy was rolling in it, bathing in it. Billy was a friggin’ movie star, and who was he? Poor old Kev who tagged along for the ride, and then got kicked to the kerb like some beaten-up old dog, without even a decent explanation. Oh yeah –
S’long Kev. Book yourself a room, Kev. Charge it to me, Kev.

Was Billy forgetting the months he’d camped out in Kev’s apartment when he’d first made it to Hollywood? Billy Melina had not had a pot to piss in, and he, Kev, was the one who’d been paying all the bills, putting food on the table and supporting Billy all the way.

So fuck it. He had a chance of making some real money, and who could blame him for taking it?

It turned out that Ellie was more than just a pretty girl sitting at a bar scribbling in a notebook. Ellie was a freelance photojournalist who was in Vegas to dig up as much dirt as she could on the many famous celebrities flocking into Vegas for the big fight.

‘Y’know,’ she informed Kev, after they’d shared a couple of beers, ‘the right photo of a hot celeb can fetch anything up to a hundred grand. And with your boss going through such a public divorce – well . . . if I can get an exclusive photo of him with someone new – bingo! We’re in the money. You arrange it, and you’re in for half.’

Who was he to turn down such a lucrative offer?

Screw loyalty. It didn’t seem to matter to Billy.

*   *   *

Frankie frowned. Where was he supposed to start looking for Cookie? She wasn’t on the dance floor, she wasn’t in the damn club, so where the hell was she? He had no idea, but he did know that if he wanted to stay on Gerald M.’s good side, he’d better start searching for the little minx.

Gerald M. was the kind of dude he was desperate to hang with. Yeah, Gerald M. might be older, but he was a tried and true star – like a Smokey Robinson or a Lionel Richie. Old school. And Frankie would like nothing better than for Gerald M. to plant his ass in River every night, give the place some star power. He’d even supply him with free drugs for the pleasure of his company.

However, this wasn’t going to happen until he produced Gerald M.’s precious daughter.

How precious would Daddy think Cookie was if he’d seen her sucking Frankie’s cock on the drive up? Not so precious any more.

Frankie approached M.J. and was taken aback to observe his ex – Annabelle Maestro – sitting at the table, right next to Lennie Golden and the red-hot agent everyone was talking about – Eddie Falcon. He and Annabelle hadn’t spoken in months, not since he’d threatened to sue her for publishing a libellous untruthful book, painting him as some kind of dissolute low-life drug addict.

He knew Eddie – the agent had stopped by River on several occasions – so he said a brusque, ‘Hi,’ and attempted to ignore Annabelle.

Eddie wasn’t having it. ‘You know my girlfriend, Annabelle Maestro,’ he said. A pause, then – ‘Wait a minute, didn’t the two of you used to go out?’

‘Briefly,’ Annabelle said, refusing to look at Frankie.

‘Way back,’ Frankie said, turning to M.J. ‘You seen Cookie?’ he asked.

‘Dating juveniles now,’ Annabelle murmured. ‘How appropriate.’

Frankie pretended not to hear her.

‘She and Max were goin’ over to Wonderball,’ Cassie offered.

‘Wonder
what
?’ Frankie said, wishing he was anywhere but standing in front of this group.

‘It’s a kid’s club on the Strip,’ Cassie said. ‘Wonderball – everyone knows it.’

Great. His teenage girlfriend had run out on him to go party with the kiddies. Well, at least he could tell Gerald M. where she was.

‘Thanks,’ he said to Cassie.

‘No prob,’ Cassie responded.

Back to his table he went with his newfound information on Cookie’s whereabouts.

The table was empty. Gerald M. and his entourage – including the two blondes Frankie had lined up for later – had taken off. All that was left was the check.

His freakin’ luck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

*   *   *

Max loved the fact that Billy didn’t want her to go; it meant that he really liked her.

‘When am I gonna see you again?’ he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed watching her as she pulled on her leggings and boots. ‘’Cause if I’m
not
gonna see you, I may as well hop a flight back to L.A.’

‘Well . . .’ she said, thinking about how she could work it out. ‘I’ve got lunch with my family, but after that I don’t see why I couldn’t come by. Maybe we could do something, go somewhere.’

‘Sweet dreams, babe,’ Billy said with a rueful laugh. ‘If I set one foot outta here, the paps’ll be all over me, an’ you’ll be labelled my new mystery woman.’

‘Is it
that
bad?’ she asked, thinking what a drag it must be to lose your privacy.

‘Believe me,’ Billy assured her, ‘it’s that bad. Even without the divorce thing it was full on. Now multiply that, an’ the situation escalates. I hate it.’

‘But surely they don’t even know you’re in Vegas?’ she questioned.

‘Oh, they know. They just haven’t found me yet.’

‘Does this mean we can’t go anywhere together? Even in L.A.?’

‘Not unless you’re prepared for everyone to find out about us.’

Max considered Lucky and Lennie’s reaction and shuddered. They would totally
freak
.

‘Okay,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Then why don’t I come back here later and we’ll watch TV or something.’

‘I’m liking the “or something”,’ he said with a lascivious grin. ‘Your education shall continue.’

‘Ha!’ she said scornfully. ‘Stop imagining that I’m like some innocent little flower you’re teaching how to grow. Honestly, I’m not that girl.’

‘Do not shatter my illusions,’ he said. ‘I’m happy that I’m your first. It makes everything very special between us.’

‘Hmm . . .’ she said, trying not to let him see how thrilled his words made her. She had to play it a little bit cool, couldn’t let him see how hooked she already was. ‘Well anyway, I gotta get out of here,’ she added, standing up.

‘Call me when you get to your room,’ he said. ‘I want to be sure you got back safely. I’d escort you, but—’

‘Yeah, I know, I know, those freakin’ paps.’

‘Right,’ he said grinning. ‘You catch on fast.’

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Lookin’ forward to it, Green Eyes.’

‘So am I!’

*   *   *

Lucky knew The Cavendish as well as she knew her own hotel. During the time she was building The Keys, she’d stayed in the villas many times. She was aware of exactly where Armand’s villa was located, having gotten the number from the switchboard at the hotel.

As she drove to the hotel, she decided she’d park in a special spot near the villas – no need to walk through the lobby or the casino. Later, at a decent hour, she’d call Renee, the owner of The Cavendish, and ask her to arrange for Armand Jordan to be thrown out.