Serpent Sting. Toni Grant
could not be breached, Seta relaxed into making binding verbal arrangements, here, beside the pool deck. And when the business was done, a string of pretty young things filled the space encouraging all measure of pleasure and entertainment. It was Seta’s way.
Nicholas checked the time. Three minutes, thirty seconds. Done. He stepped quietly towards the low wall boundary of the small patio. Above him, a mobile phone rang. Nicholas stilled, caught half way between escape and the home.
“Seta,” he heard. Then, “Silvio!”
Seta was again at the deck’s edge.
“What do you want?”
Now, he shifted around the timber boards—steps made in annoyance.
“Last night went well.”
There was a short silence.
“I won’t discuss this. Have you found that whore Salucci?”
Another short silence.
“Then you are of no value to me. The Commission are just as useless. Stay out of my way, old man. And smash that phone! No phone calls will ever be tracked to me.”
Seta ended the call abruptly. Footsteps stalked towards the interior. A door slammed against the steel and concrete construction.
Nicholas ignored the emotions threatening his actions and checked his watch. Five minutes. He’d wasted too much time. Sunshine split the horizon. The whole underside of the deck was suddenly bathed in morning light. Now he’d have to find a new place to hide and wait out the next shift change.
The intruder slipped over the low wall into the thick rosemary undergrowth. Behind him a glass door opened. The mistress stepped onto the paving and padded towards the outdoor lounge. Seta followed her to the open doorway. He paused at the precipice, his temper simmering in his clenched fists.
“Anya Frida! What is it? I’m not in the mood for your childish games,” he grumbled at the Russian beauty.
“Come on Seta,” she purred, turning her pretty blonde head towards him. “Before our guests arrive for breakfast and you are too busy for me. I want you again. Here, out in the open with only the sun and air between us.” She slipped the silk wrap off her shoulders and it fell in a pool of colour at her feet.
Wrapping the tie cord seductively around her neck and pulling it gently, she cooed, “Take me any way you please, but first …”
The old man stepped into the coolness and she knelt before him. Spreading his bathrobe she rubbed her hands along his naked legs and reaching his buttocks, she pulled him to her, whispering, “It’s my turn.”
CHAPTER 5
27 January
Ibiza, Balearic Islands
It was hot. Steamy hot like it was about to storm. And as the moon chased the sun, the air remained thick and damp.
The sprawling Spanish villa, traditionally styled with large passageways and tiled floors, caught every small breeze and directed it through the interior. Rooms led seamlessly from whitewashed arches. Moorish pendant lights lit the passageways in a soft glow.
Central to the home, a wide stairwell connected the ground-floor living areas to private quarters. Colourful hand-painted tiles decorated each rise of the deep, gently curved steps.
Nicholas left the exterior doors and windows open, encouraging the sea air to fill his masculine space. In the busy household, he relished the cool sanctity and privacy of his bedroom suite.
Laughter drifted upwards from the outdoor swimming pool. Paul and Luciana were playing Marco Polo.
“Polo!” he yelled cheekily from the open window. Luciana spun on the spot, eyes jammed shut as she tried to locate the distant voice.
“Nicholas!” she chided, opening her eyes at last. “That’s not fair! You’re not even playing!”
He laughed. “And that’s cheating Luciana. You can’t open your eyes!”
He ducked back inside smiling lazily at his good fortune.
Not so far away, the nightclub scene was gearing up. He’d sample the offerings again tonight, after his commitments were done. Not that Nicholas was complaining about his holiday being interrupted by work.
He was expected to participate and learn. As always with Silvio, work, pleasure and family time intertwined.
But there would be no work tonight. Today was Francesca’s birthday. Family time. And long after the dinner celebrations, Nic would return to the exclusive club filled with the pretty, rich and bored.
Shower, shave, sex. Nicholas turned towards the en-suite.
Movement caught his eye. In amazement, he watched as the bed sheet moved again and a tiny curl of auburn hair peeked from the top.
“Francesca?” Nicholas strode to the bundle. “Is that you?” Pushing aside the fabric, he squatted next to the figure, brushing the wayward curls away from tear-stained cheeks. “Hey. Hey. What’s happened my flower?”
“I didn’t know what to do. I just knew I had to come to you.” Francesca sobbed.
“Of course. Tell me what’s happened. We can’t have you upset on your holidays.” Nicholas wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against him as they propped against the wall.
“Will you get mad? I mean they are your friends. I just don’t understand.” She looked into his face and he smiled, patting her forearm reassuringly.
“They said they had a special 15th birthday present for me, that they were going to take me to a special place that you go to and they were going to show me something there. I said ok.” Francesca stilled, searching her friend’s face for permission to continue. He nodded.
“Well when I got there, Giuliett said to be part of the group I had to do this thing and that all the girls had done it and it made you happy.”
Nicholas searched her face, his mind racing as to what Giuliett Seta was specifically talking about.
“The place was at the back of the garden, with the tall trees and the rocky platform, and you can see the ocean from there too. It’s really beautiful. They said, ‘Sit here,’ so I did. And then they came at me.” Francesca burst into tears.
“What do you mean, Francesca?”
“They came at me. They held me down by my legs and hands and then they starting rubbing their hands up and down my legs. They held my legs apart by the ankles and the knees. One girl tried to put her hand under my dress and I kicked her but they kept doing it.”
Nicholas held his breath. “What happened next?”
“Well, they all laughed and I tried to stand up. I said this is not what Nicholas wants. And two girls pushed me to the ground and sat on me. This is exactly what Nicholas wants, they said.”
“Sat on you?”
“Yes, like this.” Francesca pushed Nicholas to the floor, straddled him and pressed herself firmly against his crotch. Nicholas felt the warmth of her against him as her short dress slid higher along bronzed thigh. He held his breath.
“They held my arms out wide each side, like a cross. Like this.” She bent low and forward from her hips, spreading his arms to the side. Nicholas breathed the floral scent escaping the valley between her breasts. Dior. He took another deep, deliberate breath of her. Dior blended with the smell of the ocean.
Nicholas moved his head slightly towards her determined face. Every detail on the bodice of that pretty white dress, every stitch, every undone tortoiseshell button filled his view. And as it peeled open for him, rounded breasts pressed against a black and white striped bikini top.
Honey-coloured skin speckled with sand. Glorious, shimmering sprinkles of gold pressed into that smooth skin. As she crouched back to sit upon him,