Dangerous Kiss (26 page)

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Authors: Jackie Collins

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Sagas, #Romance

BOOK: Dangerous Kiss
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He was psyched.

His date for the evening, whom he'd be picking up shortly, was Krissie, the no-brain model. He'd decided to take her because she was the best-looking armpiece of all, and as long as she kept her mouth shut he'd be the envy of every man there.

He checked himself out in the mirror one more time, rubbed a touch of oil on his head to make it gleam, and doused himself in Christian Dior's Eau Sauvage.

Finally ready, he went downstairs.

As usual, Irena was busy in the kitchen. 'I'm leaving now,' he said.

She didn't turn around, which irritated him. The woman had spent the night in his bed, the least she could do was pay him some attention and tell him how fine he looked. But no. She was too goddamn busy polishing a silver coffee jug.

'I said, I'm leaving now,' he repeated.

This time she turned her head. He threw out his arms expecting a compliment.

'Like the outfit?'

'You look nice, Mr Washington,' she said, her face impassive as usual.

Nice? Fuck that shit. 'Yeah, well, a man's gotta try,' he said.

You smell like a whorehouse, she wanted to say, but she bit her lip. It wouldn't do to be truthful, there were certain boundaries she never dared cross.

Mila wandered into the kitchen and let forth a low wolf whistle. 'Wow, Mr W -

lookin' good!'

He nodded in her direction. Truth was he couldn't stand the girl: everything she said was insincere. He reminded himself to tell Teddy he didn't want him hanging with her now that they were back in LA. Lately he'd noticed Teddy sniffing around the girl again, and it was best to discourage him before it went any further. Now that Mila had a job, there was no reason for him to spend any more time with her.

Mila threw him a cold hint of a smile. 'Going somewhere special, Mr W?'

Irena shot her daughter a look. She did not approve of her talking to the boss.

'A party,' Price said.

'Someone famous?' Mila persisted.

Irena shot her another furious look.

'Venus Maria and Cooper Turner's,' Price said, annoyed with himself for bothering to reply.

'Oooh, big stars,' Mila said, a faintly mocking tone in her voice. 'Maybe I should give you my autograph book.'

Maybe I should give you a sharp slap across the face, he thought. And what was with the badly dyed blonde hair? 'Where's Teddy?' he asked abruptly.

Mila shrugged. 'Dunno.'

'In his room,' Irena said.

Price went to the bottom of the stairs and called his son. 'Teddy!'

Teddy appeared at the top of the stairs. 'Whass up, Dad?'

'I'm leavin' now. You home tonight?'

Teddy nodded, noticing that Mila was downstairs. If they could only get rid of Irena, they'd have the house to themselves and maybe they could take up where they'd left off.

'So… uh… behave yourself,' Price said, waiting for a comment on how he looked. Teddy didn't say a word. 'See you later, then,' Price said, walking out to the garage and getting into his black Ferrari - a recent purchase.

Settling behind the wheel, he started the car and set off to pick up Miss No Brains.

'It's rude to question Mr Washington about where he's going,' Irena said, glaring at her daughter. 'You're fortunate he allows you to stay here now that you're grown.'

'Aren't I the lucky one?' Mila said sarcastically. 'Suppose I should learn to kiss his big black ass - like you.'

Irena's eyes signalled anger. 'What did you say?'

'Nothing,' Mila murmured, beating a quick retreat. She never stopped hating her mother. Hating her for many reasons, the main one being that Irena had never been truthful about the identity of Mila's father. She did not believe it was some old boyfriend from Russia. If that was the case, then why couldn't she know his identity?

Irena was full of lies and mystery about her life in Russia before coming to America. She'd informed Mila that her entire family had perished in a train wreck.

According to Irena, there were just the two of them. Oh, yes, and Mr Big Star Price Washington and his wimpy son, the jerk with the pussy balls. Mila hated Teddy, too.

For the last few days she'd been trying to figure out a way she could nail Teddy for the shooting and pick up the reward. One hundred thousand dollars. An astronomical amount. A fortune. The entree to a new, much improved life. She'd called the cops to make sure the reward existed, now all she had to do was figure out a way to claim it.

It was a tricky problem, of course, because she's been the shooter and, apart from Teddy - who didn't matter - there was only one other person who could finger her and that was Lennie Golden, the survivor. So even though she had Teddy's prints on the gun, Lennie Golden would identify her, and that simply couldn't happen.

How to stop it? That was the question.

She'd finally come up with an off-the-wall solution.

Kill Lennie Golden.

Oh, yes, and how was she supposed to do that?

For one hundred thousand dollars, she'd come up with something.

Chapter Forty-five

The Hollywood Hills mansion of Venus Maria and Cooper Turner was alive with lights and hidden security as the guests began arriving. There was also plenty of security on show - guards at the gate holding clipboards with lists of invited guests, off-duty cops with dogs patrolling the enormous grounds, a few chosen detectives who mingled looking like guests.

No press. Cooper had been adamant about that, and over the six years they'd been married, Venus had learned to go along with what he wanted. It made life so much easier. After all, she was married to a catch, a confirmed playboy bachelor whom everyone had assured her would never get married.

Oh, yes? She'd soon changed that misconception. And, after a shaky start, they were now as happy as two people could be, living in the Hollywood fish-bowl.

Because it was a fish-bowl. Everything Venus and Cooper did was scrutinized and written about. Once a month the tabloids came out with scandalous stories about how Cooper had fallen in love with his current co-star, or how Venus was sleeping with the latest stud around town. It made a change from the reports that she was supposedly suffering from anorexia, bulimia, or having a nervous breakdown. Or the stories that Cooper had been caught with three strippers in Tijuana - that is, when he wasn't conducting a secret affair with Madonna, Venus's biggest rival.

All the outlandish headlines were pure fantasy, of course. They'd settled for laughing about them - suing cost too much and took too long.

For their party, Venus had chosen to wear a gold strapless dress that skimmed her incredible body like a second skin. She worked hard at keeping the best body in town; it was a tough daily grind, but worth it.

Cooper was in his bathroom putting the finishing touches to his bow-tie when she walked up behind him. He studied her reflection in the mirror. 'You look great, baby,' he said.

'So do you,' she answered, knowing that Cooper got off on compliments as much as any woman did. After all, he was an actor and, however famous, all actors were insecure and needed constant reassurance.

'Thanks,' he said. 'Are we ready to go downstairs?'

'If you think it's cool to be the first guests at our own party.'

'I do,' he said. 'Oh, and before we go, I've got a little something for you.'

'Not now, Cooper,' she said, with a dirty laugh. 'Please. You're insatiable. We'll do it later.'

'Get your mind out of my pants,' he joked.

'Why? I like it there!'

He reached in his pocket and handed her a small leather jewellery box. She opened it. Inside nestled a perfect square-cut emerald and diamond ring.

'Happy anniversary,' he said.

'Wow!' she exclaimed, taking it out of the box. 'It's fantastic!'

'Does it fit?'

She slid the ring on her finger. 'Perfectly.'

'Then, my sweetheart,' he said, taking her arm, 'let us go downstairs and enjoy our party.'

'You're late,' Lucky said crisply, looking strikingly beautiful in a black Richard Tyler evening suit with nothing underneath.

'I don't even know why I'm here,' Steven said.

'You're here because Carioca wants to go to the party, and therefore it'll be fun for you. It also means you can leave early.'

'Isn't she staying the night with you?'

'No, Steven. Tonight Carioca is going home with you. I don't know how many times I have to tell you this but your little girl lost her mother, and it would be tragic if she lost her father, too. By the way, you look extremely handsome.'

'Thanks,' he said dourly. 'I don't feel it.'

'Can I fix you a drink before we go?' she asked, walking over to the bar.

'No,' he said. 'Where are the girls?'

'Upstairs, finishing getting dressed,' she answered, pouring herself a shot of vodka. 'You should see how excited they are. I'm so glad you changed your mind and decided to come.'

'Venus sat in my office and changed it for me.'

'You should be very flattered that she went to all that trouble.'

'Yeah, it was nice of her to bother.'

'Your friends all love you, Steven. Never forget that.'

Before he could answer, Lennie entered the room. 'Good to see you, Steven,' he said.

Steven nodded. 'You too, Lennie.'

Lucky knew how strained things had been between them, but she was hopeful that tonight would change everything.

A few minutes later, Maria and Carioca came running downstairs, all dressed up and extremely giggly.

'You two little monkeys look fantastic!' Lucky said, grabbing her Nikon camera.

'Come on, get together. Photo time!'

Maria threw an arm around Carioca's shoulders, stuck out her leg and tilted her head, posing like a Vogue model.

I'm going to have my hands full with this one, Lucky thought. She's exactly like I was at her age. A true mind of her own.

'Steven,' she instructed, 'get in the photo. Stand between the girls.'

'No photos,' he said, shaking his head.

'Come on, it's an adorable picture.'

'Yes, c'mon, Daddy,' Carioca pleaded. 'Please! Please! Please!'

'Uncle Steven, do it!' Maria commanded.

Reluctantly Steven obliged. Lucky took the shot.

'Okay,' she said. 'Enough. It's time to party!'

'I'm overdressed, aren't I?' Lina said, sounding unsure for once.

'You look sensational,' Max answered, helping her into his Maserati.

'No, I went too far,' she said, wishing she'd chosen the sleek, black Versace instead of the shocking pink Betsey Johnson.

'Lina, you're gonna knock everybody on their ass!'

'You think so?'

'I know so,' he said, throwing her a sideways glance. Personally he thought she'd gone over the top with her dress. It was a shocking pink number, with ruffles and frills, short in the front and long in the back. She resembled an overdressed bridesmaid. Fortunately he knew enough about women not to voice his opinion.

'Can I tell people I'm in the new Charlie Dollar movie?' she asked, extracting a pot of lip gloss from her purse.

'No. Never mention anything until a deal is signed.'

'Got it,' she said, dabbing more gloss on her lips with her finger.

'What do you care anyway?' Max said. 'Everybody knows who you are. It's the year of the supermodel - and, baby, you're it!'

She grinned happily. 'That's true.'

'I spoke to Charlie before he left,' Max said, steering his Maserati into the fast lane.

'Oh, yeah,' Lina said casually. 'Mention me, did 'e?'

'Thinks you're enchanting.'

'Enchanting, huh?' she said, with a pleased smile.

'You do know he has a girlfriend?'

'Yes. He mumbled something about her busting in an' shooting me.'

'Don't think she wouldn't,' Max said, imagining the headlines. 'Dahlia's a tough lady, and I mean lady. She's not one of those pretty little things he takes to bed on occasion.'

'Who is she?' Lina asked curiously.

'Dahlia Summers is a serious actress. She and Charlie have been on and off for years. They have a two-year-old son together, Sport.'

'That's 'is name?'

'Chosen by Charlie himself.'

'Figures. Anyway,' she added, 'I wasn't planning on marryin' him.'

Max laughed. 'I'm relieved to hear that, 'cause I'm not into sleeping with married women.'

'What makes you think you're sleeping with me tonight?' she said, teasing him with a slow, sexy look.

'Because… you remind me of myself. We're both predators We both get off on stalking the prey.'

'Yes?' she said.

'Yes,' he said.

Lina smiled. For an agent Max Steele was pretty damn smart. And she liked that in a man. Brains and a great butt. Two major assets.

Tonight, if he kept up the dialogue, Mr Max Steele might get extraordinarily lucky.

Chapter Forty-six

Slowly Brigette regained consciousness. As she began to come to and remembered what had happened, she was gripped with fear.

She was lying on the bed in the bedroom of her hotel suite, with Carlo hovering over her holding a damp towel to her forehead. He was fully dressed. She wasn't. 'You fainted,' he said.

'I didn't faint,' she managed, wincing with pain because it felt as if someone had hit her across the face with a sledgehammer.

'Yes, you did,' he said, in a soothing voice, his patrician features calm and composed. 'I was worried about you.'

This was unbelievable! He'd beaten her into unconsciousness and now he was sitting on the edge of the bed acting as if nothing had happened.

She attempted to move.

'Stay where you are,' he said. 'We don't want you fainting again, cara?

Oh, God! This was crazy. He'd beaten her up and now he was acting like a concerned boyfriend.

She lay very still, trying to collect her thoughts. What would Lucky do? Probably shoot his balls off and run. Lucky lived by her own rules.

She reached up and touched her face, her cheek felt tender and swollen where he'd hit her. Maybe she was marked for life. Should she start screaming? Or now that he seemed calm, should she simply work on getting him out of there? Some night of revenge this was turning out to be.

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