This was a cocky little son-of-a-bitch, Nina thought, and she could see his crotch swelling as she moved her hands expertly over his beautiful young body. She was rather glad she’d been allocated a boy rather than one of the older men. She liked breaking in young guys, but she reckoned this one was no virgin.
‘Oh, yeah, that’s great,’ James said closing his eyes. Nina bent low and whispered into his ear, ‘I can also provide any substances you require.’
His eyes sprang open just as the top button of her stretched white tunic released itself. His already swollen cock was upright now, like a gun primed to shoot.
Matlock was lying on the vast bed, wearing just a short cotton dressing-gown. Unlike his wife, he paid little attention to the elegant suite. She crossed the room now to open the floor-to-ceiling Gothic windows. With the touch of a button, the electric blinds glided back into virtually hidden alcoves to reveal the large patio. It was partly shaded with tropical plants and a striped awning around a private dining area, leaving the other side bathed in bright sunlight. Two sun-loungers were laid out and a chilled bottle of champagne with two glasses stood in the shade on a small marble table.
‘Nothing has been overlooked,’ Angela said softly.
‘What?’ her husband enquired, tossing aside the brochure. It made him feel as if he was supposed to put in a bid for the place. ‘What was that?’ he barked to his wife.
‘One’s every need is catered for,’ she said, shading her eyes to look down to the glistening water then upwards to the cliffs. Matlock came to stand beside her and saw James way below walking with Max. ‘He’s really going to enjoy himself,’ she said.
‘We all are, darling. That invitation was heaven-sent. It’s so rare for us all to be together. I’m glad I changed my mind about coming — it would have been a shame to miss all this, and I’m sure there’s some great fishing to be had, deep sea. I’d love to try my hand at that.’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’ Angela’s calm exterior belied the fact that she had had to take extra Valium to prepare herself to face William.
Matlock changed the subject. He didn’t want to give her the real reason for changing his mind: two weeks with the Prime Minister and his biggest competitor had been too good an opportunity to miss. ‘Apparently there’s a damned good library and gymnasium. Must say that is one hell of a pool,’ he said.
There was a knock on the door. Angela went to open it. It was Dahlia. ‘Just checking you have everything you want,’ she said.
‘A cup of tea,’ yelled Matlock. ‘Good old English tea.’
‘Everything’s lovely. I was just going to take a shower.’ Angela nodded to Dahlia. ‘Thank you so much for unpacking. It’s something I always loathe doing.’
‘Would you care for a massage?’ Dahlia asked. ‘I am a fully trained masseuse, ma’am, reflexology and therapeutic herbal massage.’
‘Another time, perhaps.’ Angela was unable to meet Dahlia’s direct gaze: for some reason she couldn’t identify the maid unnerved her.
‘Very well. I’ll order tea. Would fifteen minutes leave enough time for your shower?’
‘Oh, good heavens, yes. Thank you.’
Dahlia closed the door and left. Angela looked out on to the veranda, but her husband was already snoring. She had wanted to ask him when they were to meet William, but decided against it. They would confront each other at dinner.
The Baroness, wearing a white bikini, her hair tied up in a flowered scarf, lay with her eyes closed in the jacuzzi. She loved the feel of the herb-scented water as it massaged her body. She had a second glass of champagne at her elbow and one of the white-coated servants had unobtrusively placed a small platter of canapés beside her. She sighed. This really was perfection.
‘You should see the gymnasium,’ her husband said, perching on the side of the jacuzzi. ‘It’s better equipped than any place I have ever been to, and the instructor seems pleasant. He’s from Berlin.’
‘Really?’ she said, eyes closed.
‘I’m going to work out while I’m here,’ said the Baron, accepting a glass of champagne from the same hovering servant. ‘According to Kurt, I could still lose some weight. When you get to my age, it gets harder to lose those few extra pounds.’
He accepted a fresh platter of canapés and, despite his talk on weight-loss, began to eat them.
‘Where’s Max?’ his wife asked, yawning.
‘I have no idea. He went off with the Matlocks’ son, James. He’s a good-looking boy, isn’t he?’
His wife’s eyes opened and she squinted up at him quizzically. ‘A word of warning: be careful.’
‘For God’s sake, I only said James was good-looking.’
‘I know you and your good-looking boys.’
‘But he’s Max’s friend.’
‘Hasn’t stopped you before, has it? But this time just remember whose son he is. Those two are so prudish, and if you cross him he’ll crucify you on the front page of so many newspapers.’ She sighed with impatience. ‘He did it to William Benedict and look what happened to him!’
‘Judging from this place, that scandal didn’t hurt him.’
‘Perhaps not, but tread carefully. He must have a hidden agenda. Why else would he ask us here? Maybe he wants to do business again. Let’s hope so.’
They had shelled out thousands to pay the press to keep his homosexual dalliances private and his wife had protected him for years. The Baron’s face tightened as she continued languidly, ‘I’m surprised he wasn’t waiting to greet us with a sledgehammer, considering the way you backed out of that deal.’
‘All’s fair in love and business deals,’ he snapped.
‘I’m sure it is. I just wish you had a little of his success. I presume that was why you accepted the invitation, in the hope of getting into bed with him, so to speak.’
‘For God’s sake don’t start. Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, he wants to get into bed with me? In a business capacity, obviously.’ He made no mention to her of the legal case he was fighting with Benedict. His lawyers had suggested that this trip might be a good opportunity to discuss it, perhaps in an informal way.
‘I say! This is all rather lovely, isn’t it?’ Angela Matlock was wearing a large-brimmed sun-hat, a pale lemon dress and flat white sandals. She carried a straw basket with her cross stitch sticking out of it. ‘It’s a little too hot for me in the sun. I’ll sit in the shade. I can’t go too far, Humphrey’s sleeping. He hates it if I’m not close when he wakes.’
In the control room, his feet up on the console, Justin spoke into the mike.
‘William?’
‘Yup,’ came the crackly reply.
‘You in position?’
‘Yup, I’m in the charter-boat. We’re just inside the two rocks.’
‘Then this is your call for onstage,’ he said.
‘Roger!’ said William.
‘Roger yourself!’ replied Justin, then hesitated. ‘Hang on, what are you wearing?’
‘What you and Dahlia put out for me.’
He was about to describe his clothes when Justin cut him off with ‘Break a leg.’
The Baroness stepped out of the jacuzzi, selected a robe from the pool-side table and put it on. She looked around and then decided to sit at the far end of the pool, beneath a yellow striped awning near Angela Matlock.
‘Who else is expected?’ she asked Angela. ‘Have you any idea?’
‘I’m not sure, but the place is big enough to accommodate goodness knows how many. Have you seen William Benedict yet?’
‘No, I presume he’ll be at dinner, though,’ mused the Baroness. ‘Does Justin Chalmers count as a guest? Or is he staff?’
Angela pointed towards the sea. ‘It looks as though someone is arriving,’ she said, reaching for her glasses.