Double Lucky (22 page)

Irma's bedroom door was open. He walked in, closing and locking the door behind him.

Irma was lying on the bed in her white virginal dress, waiting for him.

Luis didn't hesitate, he hurriedly unzipped his pants and fell on top of her. He was hot and horny and he took her fast.

Irma was dismayed—fast sex reminded her of Anthony. She expected Luis to take his time like he usually did.

“Luis,” she objected, making a vain attempt to push him off her, “what are you doing? Slow down.”

“
Qué?
” he muttered. But it was too late—he'd already come.

Irma was disappointed and a little angry. If she wanted fast sex with someone rough, she would hardly have chosen Luis.

She got off the bed and stalked into her bathroom, near tears.

Luis could tell she was upset, so he followed her.

“No, Luis,” she said, shaking her head. “Not like that, never like that.”

“
Ah, cara
,” he said, and very slowly he moved toward her and began peeling down the straps of her white dress, exposing her full breasts.

“No, Luis,” she repeated, holding up her hand. “No more.”

Ignoring her, he started touching her nipples with the tips of his fingers. Fondling, squeezing, then bending his mouth down and sucking, kissing …

She was immediately filled with a fierce and overwhelming desire for this man.

Oh yes, Luis knew how to turn her on. They might not speak the same language, but he certainly knew how to fulfill every one of her fantasies.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY

It was morning, Max knew that. She knew because she could hear birds singing outside the small room she was locked inside. The one window in the room was boarded up, but light filtered through the cracks.

Her head ached, her shoulders hurt, her stomach rumbled, and she had a desperate need to pee. She'd slept fitfully, experiencing hideous nightmares about Cookie's predictions that Internet Dude could turn out to be some kind of maniac serial killer. Was this person who'd held a gun on them and brought them to the cabin a serial killer? Were her worst nightmares about to come true?

She was lying on a hard bed, her left ankle chained to the sturdy wooden leg of the bed. Ace was nowhere in sight.

Pulling her thoughts together, she started going over the events of yesterday in her head. The drive to Big Bear, the waiting around for her Internet guy to show, hooking up with Ace, and finally the weasel-faced stranger approaching her and telling her he was Grant, although he looked nothing like the picture he'd posted. What a liar! What a creep!

Fortunately, Ace had reappeared all set to rescue her, but the man had pulled a gun on them, then forced them both into her car. He'd made Ace drive while he'd sat in the back next to her.

She was horrified at what was happening. Then she'd started thinking that maybe it was a hoax, some kind of weirdo TV show that Cookie and Harry had set up.

But no, they wouldn't be so nuts.

I'm not frightened,
she'd told herself.
I refuse to be scared.

But when the man had leaned over and forced a blindfold around her eyes, she'd finally felt the cold grip of fear.

“Where're we headin'?” Ace had asked at one point.

“Be quiet and drive,” Grant had replied in a low, even voice. “Follow my instructions and do not say another word.”

“You'll never get away with this,” Ace had muttered.

“That's for me to decide.”

Scrunched in the backseat, she'd stayed as far away from the Internet Freak as possible, managing somehow or other to remain calm. She'd thought about her mom. What would Lucky do?

Oh man, Lucky would probably kick his ass big-time. Her mom was known for taking no prisoners, and although they had their differences, under it all Max really admired her.

They must have driven for at least half an hour before finally stopping. When the car came to a halt, Internet Freak had ripped the blindfold from her eyes, and she'd seen that they were parked outside a cabin in a heavily wooded and seemingly remote area.

“Both of you—get out of the car,” he'd ordered.

Ace had slid out of the driver's seat and stationed himself next to the car.

“And you,” he'd said to Max. “Tie his hands behind his back.”

“With what?” she'd answered, staring him down, letting him know she wasn't intimidated, not her.

“Use your blindfold for now.”

She'd tied Ace's hands, making the knot as loose as possible.

“Stay cool,” Ace had whispered when she was close to him. “We'll get out of this.”

“I know,” she'd whispered back.

“Tighter,” Internet Freak had said, watching her closely.

She'd redone the knot, her heart beating fast, her mind reliving every horror movie she'd ever seen. Those kinds of films were always set in some backwoods area, and there was always a teen couple who inevitably ended up dead on arrival. Oh, great! Was that their destiny?

“What do you want?” she'd asked, turning to face him. “Money? 'Cause my mom will pay you.”

“Your mom,” Internet Freak had sneered. “I don't want your mom's money, I have plenty of my own.”

“Then what
do
you want?” she'd asked, keeping her voice firm.

“I'll tell you when I'm ready to tell you,” he'd said. “And stop asking questions.”

He'd then instructed Ace to get in the trunk of the car. When Ace objected, he'd threatened to shoot her, so Ace had complied.

After that was done he'd commanded her to enter the house. Once inside he'd shoved her into the small room and manacled her ankle to the leg of the bed. Then he'd left her there without saying another word.

Now it was morning and she had no idea what was going on.

Where was Ace? Was he all right?

Where was Internet Freak? What were his intentions?

He'd taken away her purse with her cell phone, but surely by this time someone would've called her and realized she was missing? Her mom, Cookie, Harry—they'd all been so adamant she had to check in.

The room smelled musty, as if it hadn't been used in years. Her eyes ached to match her relentless headache. She was desperately hungry and thirsty.

After a few minutes of getting acclimatized, she half fell off the bed, attempting to drag it toward the window.

The bed was too heavy, it wouldn't budge.

She reached down to her ankle. It was beginning to chafe and swell.

“Hey!” she yelled loudly, refusing to panic. “Anyone out there? Anyone at all?”

There was no response.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Giving Brigette and Bobby a tour of the Keys was a thrill for Lucky. She flew to Vegas every week, so nothing was new to her, but seeing the enormous development through Brigette's and Bobby's eyes was exciting, and they seemed fully impressed, as so they should be. Even if she said so herself, the Keys was awesome.

“This is probably the best hotel I've created,” she said proudly. “What do you think?”

“Oh my God,” Brigette gasped. “It's amazing. I want to buy one of those apartments today! They're incredible.”

“Yes, and I'm happy to say they're nearly all presold, although I think there might be a couple of penthouses still available.”

“We'll take 'em,” Bobby quipped. “I'll buy one, Brig can have the other.”

“I thought you were going to build your own hotel, Bobby,” Lucky said, teasing him.

“Maybe I will,” he answered. “Put you out of business.”

“So that's your ambition, is it?” she asked, hands on hips. “To put your poor old mom out of business?”

“Poor old Mom, my ass!”

They grinned at each other, shadowboxing.

She'd given them the grand tour, making their way through an army of workmen finishing up various areas. Finally they'd reached the private rooftop nightclub where the final touch-ups were taking place.

“Well?” she asked both of them. “Opinions please.”

“It's okay,” Bobby said, surveying the premises with a critical eye. “I could've done better for you.”

“Really,” she said coolly, making it more of a statement than a question.

“It's … y'know, nothing special.”

“Nothing special!” she exclaimed. “Are you kidding me? How about the illuminated staircase? The one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view over the Strip? The indoor fountains? The VIP rooms? The paintings—all originals I might add.”

“That's not what makes a great club, Mom. A really cool club is all about the vibe.”

“And what vibe would that be?”

“The people, the mix—now,
that's
what makes a club a happening place.”

“And what makes you think we won't attract the right people?”

He shrugged.

“Hey, Bobby,” she said lightly. “I
do
have major connections. I've built hotels before, I ran Panther Studios, Lennie is one of the most respected directors in Hollywood, so between us we know just about everyone.”

“You gotta get 'em young,” Bobby explained. “It's all about the youth culture. Hot sexy girls in hot sexy outfits. Rich dudes with their Ferraris and cool dude attitudes. All under thirty-five and horny.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Are you trying to make me feel old?”

“You? You'll
never
be old. Look at you, you're the best-looking mom
I've
ever seen.”

“And you've seen a lot of them, have you?”

“I get around,” Bobby said, laughing.

“Let's get positive here. What's your favorite part of the hotel?”

“The different decors on each floor are amazing,” Brigette said. “And I love the way the main swimming pool is built so that it's half underground. It's pretty cool that people can swim right into an underground grotto.”

“Yeah, that's hot,” Bobby agreed. “But you've still gotta make it exciting—like stage a topless wet thong competition, stuff like that.”

“Very classy, Bobby,” Lucky said dryly. “May I suggest you save that kind of stunt for
your
hotel?”

“How about
guys
in thongs?” Brigette suggested, winking at Lucky. “I'd judge that one!”

“I'm glad to see you're heading back to the real world,” Lucky said. “Isn't this better than locking yourself up in your New York apartment and never going out?”

“I guess,” Brigette said, quite enjoying herself.

“The golf course is pretty spectacular,” Bobby said.

“And great shops,” Brigette added. “Gucci, Cartier, Chanel—excellent choices.”

Lucky nodded. “The Keys will have the premier shopping mall in Vegas. This is just the beginning.”

“Gotta give you props,” Bobby said. “When you do it, you
really
do it.”

“So I've been told,” Lucky said, smiling. “Now, if you two want to go off and play for a couple of hours, I have to sit with Mooney and take care of business. We'll meet back here at three.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bobby said. “Come on, Brig, we got us a sexy lap dance waiting.”

“Bobby!” Brigette objected. “I told you—no lap dances.”

“You know you want it.”

“I do not,” she said indignantly.

“You gotta stop fighting your impulses,” he said, grinning at her.

“For God's sake,” Brigette said, breaking out in a smile in spite of herself. “Will you give it a rest?”

“
What?
” Bobby said innocently.

“You know what,” she said, linking her arm through his.

The two of them left Lucky surveying her latest kingdom. She wished she'd thought of bringing Gino with them today—it would've been the perfect opportunity for her to give him the grand tour. He and Paige were coming to the big opening ceremony, but that was a major event; she would have preferred giving him a private look.

Her thoughts turned to his party. Thank God she had Philippe on the case. Today he'd be coping with the caterers, the company erecting the huge outdoor tent, the flower deliveries, and security. Everything had to be ready for Gino's party—she wanted it to be the most special day of his extremely eventful life.

She called Lennie to make sure everything was on schedule.

“It's a madhouse here,” he complained.

“Where's Gino?”

“Junior's playing tennis. Senior's watching college football on TV.”

“Did you call Max?”

“Left a message on her cell.”

“And she hasn't called you back?”

“Not yet.”

“That kid—”

“Don't go getting excited, I'll talk to her. How's everything there?”

“I'm signing checks and heading right home.”

“That's very good news, sweetheart, 'cause I miss you.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Breaking up was not on the agenda after all. Venus was thoroughly relieved; all her worries that Billy was cooling off had turned out to be nothing but a dumb case of the crabs. Like who hadn't experienced
them?

After Billy confided his problem, she led him into the bathroom, made him drop his pants, sat him on the side of the tub, picked up his razor, and shaved his pubic area clean as an eight-year-old boy's.

“There! All fixed,” she announced. “Now we have matching Brazilians!”

They both broke up laughing.

“Come on,” Billy said, grabbing a fresh pair of Levi's. “I'm taking you out to lunch.”

“What about the paparazzi?”

“Fuck 'em. We're going to the beach.”

Soon Venus was perched on the back of his motorcycle, arms clasped firmly around his waist, a crash helmet covering her platinum curls, a dozen paparazzi in hot pursuit.