A Lover's Mask (18 page)

“A man who takes pride in his work,” Cufi commended, slapping Fernando's back when a serious look crept into his eyes. “Now, we have business to discuss my friend. I had hoped to present the idea to both you and Mr. Frinks, but he never arrived.”

“Cold feet?” Fernando guessed, already knowing the answer.

Cufi shrugged. “I suppose, but it's his loss. May we take a few moments?” he asked, waving his hand.

“She'll be fine,” he added, noticing the look exchanged between Fernando and Contessa. “I promise you, no one will touch her. Everyone here knows she's yours.”

Fernando was still on edge about going, but he finally tugged on the cuffs of his midnight blue suit coat and followed Cufi from the elegant candlelit dining room.

County's lashes fluttered then and she celebrated their departure. Focusing on the situation at hand, she honed in on one of the only women that appeared to be alone in the room.

“Incredible place, huh?” she asked the woman and prayed she could put her celebrated skills of conversation to good use.

“Yeah…” the girl drawled, absently bobbing her head to the beat of the house music that throbbed in the air. She couldn't have been more than eighteen and was clearly in an induced state, but flashed Contessa a bright smile upon answering the question.

“Been here before?” County asked, gazing around the room as though she really wasn't over-enthused by the girl's response.

“No, it's my first job, but it'll be great preparation for my acting career,” she said, slapping her hands to what little material made up the skimpy white shorts she wore. “Cufi promised to help me get started,” she added.

“Mmm, he must have lots of connections?” County inquired lightly.

The girl's eyes widened. “
Money
and contacts, that's what it takes. And lots of exposure. Cufi promised lots of that.”

County rolled her eyes. “I'll bet.”

“Did you know that he owns a villa in Nice? That's where I'll be staying, can you believe it?”

“Is that where you'll be filming?” County asked.

The girl popped her chewing gum and gave a quick toss of her blond locks. “I'm not real clear on that. Cufi's being so secretive,” she laughed. “I think he wants to surprise me.”

County really didn't need to hear more. Clearly, this was just as Spivey said it was. She felt sick inside.

“Here's that drink.”

County and the young girl turned to find a petite round woman watching them with suspicion in her eyes and a wine cooler in her hand.

“Thanks Jessie. Oh! This is Jessie,” she told Contessa and then began to enjoy her drink.

“Well, I better go find my man,” County explained quickly, pumping Jessie's hand in a quick shake and hurrying off before any questions were asked.

 

Fernando felt even sicker following his discussion with Cufi. He decided that his first order of business would be to contact Jeff Carnes and get rid of his piece of the cursed ship. His agitation mounted further when Contessa wasn't where he'd left her. Before he completely lost his composure, he found her on a secluded area along the deck outside the living room. He walked right up behind her, took her hips in a possessive hold and pulled her back against him.

“Let's dance,” he suggested.

Whirling around, County landed a cracking slap to the side of his face. “Son of a bitch,” she hissed.

Grabbing her wrist, Fernando jerked her close. “Dammit, are you crazy?” he whispered.

Contessa pounded her fist against the front of the plum shirt beneath his suit coat. “I'm not afraid of you or your deranged friends. Promising young girls fame and fortune as a ruse to trap them into a life on their backs? The girl I talked to couldn't have been more than eighteen.” She fixed him with a scathing look. “I'm pretty sure there're some even younger.”

“Then knowing what kind of people these are should encourage you to keep it together,” he advised.

“Go to hell, I'm not afraid of them or you.”

“Hell, County do you think who you are is going to keep you safe?” he asked, tempted to shake her into acknowledging the danger of the situation.

“Who
I
am?” Contessa breathed, shaking her head in disgust. “Let's talk about who
you
are, Fernando Ramsey? A shameful bastard making money off the rape of young girls. And here you've got everyone fooled into thinking your father's the bad guy when it's you and your sick friends.”

“County—”

“No. Let me tell you something,” she said, slamming her fist against his chest again, “you forget everything about me. Forget we ever met. I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say.”

The hate oozed from her voice and her eyes like daggers and Fernando didn't like it. His grip had weakened around her wrist and County used the opportunity to wrench herself free and turn her back on him.

He knew he could get her to listen later, Fernando assured himself. It was now that frightened him. Hearing her say how much she despised him was almost too much.

“Just like your father and murdering uncle,” she muttered, staring out over the moonlit ocean. “But I think you're worse Fernando—to condemn a woman to a life like this? How many have there been?” she inquired absently, her expression clearing suddenly. “And I let myself fall in love with you,” she admitted and then grimaced, “in lust is probably more accurate. You're a man who thinks woman are prizes, objects for the pleasure of men.” She turned to face him. “I should've seen that so long ago. After all, you
do
own a strip club.”

Fernando bounded toward her and Contessa straightened, readying herself for another heated verbal exchanged. Bracing his hands along either side of her against the railing, he bent to look directly into her eyes.

“You're so very wrong about me,” his deep voice rumbled and matched the depth of emotion in his heavenly light brown eyes.

“Yes, I was, wasn't I?” she reciprocated.

Fernando blinked at the defeated tone in her voice.

“Dinner is served!”

Each thankful for the interruption, Contessa allowed Fernando to lead her from the deck.

When they were gone, Jessie, Cufi Muhammad's personal assistant, emerged from the shadows.

 

The delicious-looking dinner of Cornish hen, pecan dressing, steamed spinach and pumpernickel rolls had a nauseating effect on Contessa. She didn't even pretend to have an appetite and many of the feasting guests noticed.

“I think she'll be happier in bed!” Fernando remarked, rousing a roar of laughter from the long candlelit table. He excused them and quickly escorted County back to his cabin.

Inside the suite, County wanted to mentally block all visions of her time spent there with Fernando. Of course, that was impossible when they'd made love in every corner of the place. Made love, she thought, made sex was a more precise observation in her mind—regardless of what her heart said.

“Do you need help out of this?” Fernando asked, trailing his fingers along the bodice of her dress.

County flinched and jerked away from him. Seconds later, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Fernando stood debating on whether to go after her, when his cell phone rang. “Yeah?” he snapped into the receiver.

“It's me.”

“Moses? What's up?” he asked, only absently wondering why his brother was calling.

“Have you seen any of the girls from the club?”

“Not a one,” Fernando sighed.

“Well, your time's up. You need to get out of there and quick.”

Looking away from the bathroom door, Fernando frowned. “I just got here. Ship hasn't even set sail yet.”

“Which is a good thing. Your cover's blown.”

“What? How the hell could you know that?”

“You'll never believe me, so I'll explain the particulars later. Right now, you need to up and get your ass outta there.”

Fernando raked a hand through his hair. “That's not easy man. Contessa's here.”

“I know.”

“And you'll explain later?” Fernando guessed, too on edge to question further. “She doesn't trust me, Mo—thinks I'm in business with these fools. I'll never get her to leave willingly.”

“Then you'll have to make her.”

“How? Go knock her out?”

“Exactly.”

“Mo—”

“There's chloroform and a rag in the nightstand drawer. Use it.”

“How—”

“Just do it, man! Save the questions for later. Get County and get to the starboard deck. Now!”

Fernando slammed the phone shut, located the chloroform and the rag and headed for the bathroom. At the door, he closed his eyes. “Lord, please don't let her kill me for this,” he prayed, and then uttered a relieved sigh that she hadn't locked the door.

 

Cufi Muhammad sat in his office. He was joined by several of his men and Jessie Stevens who supervised the women aboard the ship.

“Now tell me again and slowly Jessie. You're sure of this?”

“I heard them talking.”

“And she said his name was—”

“Ramsey. Fernando Ramsey.”

Silence filled the office for a long while, and then came the sound of Cufi's fist hitting the desk.

“Should I go after them?” Carlos McPhereson asked his boss.

Cufi lifted a hand and shook his head. “Wait until we set sail in the morning. We'll get rid of them once we're at sea.” He reached for the phone. After a few moments, he spoke into the receiver. “What the hell is your son doing on my ship, Marcus?”

 

Contessa woke with a languid stretch across the crisp forest green bed linens. She took a moment to open her eyes and as they adjusted to her unfamiliar surroundings, she wrinkled her brow and tried her best to remember how she got there. Wherever
there
was, it wasn't the last place she recalled being. Then, she realized that she was half naked beneath the sheets.

“I didn't think you'd want to sleep in that dress.”

The rough voice sent her anger soaring. She turned to see Fernando leaning against one of the bedposts. He was fully dressed, a fact she took mild comfort in. Still, it did nothing to stop her from trying to bolt from the bed.

Anticipating her move, Fernando caught her easily. They tussled for a while, the sheet twisting around her body did nothing to help County achieve her goal of escaping. He was pinning her to the bed, his fingers interlaced between hers as he pressed them down. His big hard frame almost cut off her circulation, but still she struggled.

“Listen to me,” he urged, unmindful of her flailing legs as he rested between them.

County managed to free one hand and landed a vicious blow to his cheek. “Jackass! Son of a bitch—get off me! Get off I said!”

Pinning her free hand back to the tangled linens, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “You're wrong, you're wrong about me, you're wrong,” he chanted, feeling her heaving breasts slow their exertions as she quieted.

“Where am I?” she breathed.

“A hotel in Kauai.”

“How?”

“Moses.”

Blinking and searching his eyes when he looked down at her, she couldn't even think of what to ask next.

“Moses called when we got back to the cabin last night. He told me they were on to us. I'm not working with Cufi Muhammad.” He swore, feeling her stiffen beneath him once again. “I was trying to get evidence against my father. I knew he was involved in something shady, but I had no idea it was anything like this. I had to see it for myself,” he said and then quieted before moving off her.

Contessa was still for a minute, before rising slowly from the bed. She kept the sheet folded tightly around her. Fernando watched her move to an armchair with the coverings bunched around her body. He felt his chest tighten with uncertainty and fear of what she might say.

“I'm sorry, sorry I doubted you.” She spoke in a whisper, her brown eyes wide and staring blankly into the distance. “To think you really could've been involved in something like that.”

Fernando left the bed and knelt before her. “Don't do that,” he ordered, catching portions of the sheet in his hands. “It's not necessary. You had every right to think what you did. At least I know I played a convincing role.” He smiled encouragingly. “At least that's what I
thought,
” he added, his smile fading a bit.

“How'd Moses know we were in danger?” County asked.

Fernando shook his head. “I have no idea, but I intend to find out,” he swore.