Double Lucky

by Jackie Collins

An avalanche of desire.

  Plunging into heaven.

  Going all the way.

  Feeling his power.

  Feeling her acceptance.

  Working together.

  So gentle.

  So soft.

  And hard.

  Breathless.

  Wow!

  Amazing.

  Forbidden fruit.

  Barely ripe.

  Heady.

  Intoxicating.

  Falling into ecstasy.

  And finally

  Together.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Arriving back in New York, Armand was escorted through security by an airport representative, then ushered to a limousine parked at a private entrance where Fouad was waiting. Most times he accompanied Armand to Akramshar, but this time Armand had chosen to go alone.

  Before Fouad could say a word, Armand demanded to know what was happening with The Keys.

  Typical Armand, thought Fouad. No time for pleasantries; straight to business.

  “We have a meeting in Vegas tomorrow,” Fouad said, clearing his throat. “It was not easy arranging it. As I told you before, according to her lawyer, this Santangelo woman is not interested in selling, so I informed him that we were thinking of perhaps financing future projects she might be open to. Her lawyer seemed to entertain the thought of unlimited investment capitol.”

  “For God’s sake!” Armand snorted derisively. “Why did you say that?”

  “It was the only way I could arrange a meeting,” Fouad explained.

  “Such a fool,” Armand muttered.

  “In the meantime I had a dossier compiled on Lucky Santangelo,” Fouad said, handing Armand a thick manila envelope. “I thought you might find it interesting. I know I did.”

  “‘Interesting,’” Armand sneered. “Show me an interesting woman and I will show you a freak of nature.”

  “She is not your average woman,” Fouad said evenly. “I would read it if I were you.”

  “Unfortunately for you, you’re not me,” Armand replied with a note of disdain, tossing the envelope on the floor of the limo.

  Fouad wasn’t surprised. Over the past few months, Armand had become even more arrogant and difficult. Fouad realized that this was due to Armand’s escalating use of cocaine, and it worried him. At first Armand had used it as a recreational drug, but lately it seemed he needed it all the time.

  Fouad deeply disapproved of any kind of drug use, but when he’d tried to tell Armand that the habit he’d acquired was turning into an out-of-control addiction, Armand had thrown one of his angry screaming fits.

  There was a time Fouad had enjoyed working with Armand, but ever since Fouad had gotten married and created a life for himself, Armand had treated him less like an equal and more like an employee. Fouad did not like it. Armand continuously disrespected him, it was as simple as that.

  “Your mother wishes to speak with you,” Fouad said, keeping his expression impartial, because he knew Peggy, Armand’s mother, was the only woman on Earth that Armand felt he could not control.

  “Did you not tell her I was away?” Armand said, his voice a hostile missile.

  “She knows that,” Fouad answered quietly. “She is well aware of the date you visit our country each year.”

  “Your point?”

  “She asked that you call her immediately upon your return.”

  Armand scowled. But he took out his cell phone and made the call anyway.

  * * *

  Since the death of her husband, Sidney, Peggy Dunn was beginning to realize that without a rich husband by her side, she was just another lonely Manhattan widow. At first her friends had rallied, making sure that she was still included in dinner dates, events, and parties. But as the months drifted past, she began to notice that the calls became less and less frequent, until she was fortunate to receive one dinner invitation a month. One a month! For a woman who was used to going out five nights a week, this was shocking. She was sixty years old, a decade younger than Raquel Welch, and, like Raquel, she was still an attractive woman. Not as beautiful as the eighteen-year-old girl King Emir Amin Mohamed Jordan had plucked from the chorus of a Vegas show and whisked back to Akramshar to become his fifth wife, but beautiful all the same. Thanks to one of the best colorists in New York, her hair was still flaming red. Her skin, smooth and pampered from weekly facials and twice-a-week massages, was still impeccable. Her body was passable, in spite of an extra ten pounds she couldn’t seem to lose.

  When Sidney died, she had expected to meet someone else, but that hadn’t happened, and being alone did not suit her.

  She was angry at her only child, Armand, a man who had made quite a name for himself in business—and only because of the money the king had given him on his twenty-first birthday, plus Sidney’s counsel and advice about how to invest it wisely.

  Armand was a billionaire simply because of the two men in her life. He had her to thank for his good fortune. And how had he repaid her? Not in any way she could see. When Sidney was alive, the three of them had dined together every few weeks, but since Sidney’s unfortunate demise she’d hardly seen her son, and every time she called him, he seemed to come up with a work-related excuse. Furthermore, Armand had never married, and therefore had no children. At forty-two years old, he was still single.

  Peggy did not think it was right that he had not presented her with grandchildren. For a while she and Sidney had feared he might be gay, but then they’d run into him at various events around town and he’d always had a pretty girl on his arm, so that had assuaged their fears.

  “He’s merely a late starter,” Sidney had assured her. “He doesn’t wish to get tied down for now. It’s understandable.”

  Sidney was always so smart about everything. How she missed him!

  However, the time had come to do something about Armand, and she fully intended to. If he couldn’t pick a wife for himself, she would do it for him. As his mother, it was her duty.

  When he called, she was ready.

  “How was your trip, Armand?” she asked.

  “The same as usual,” he replied.

  “And the king?”

  “Nothing changes.”

  “Any new wives?”

  “I do not notice such things.”

  Of course he doesn’t notice such things, Peggy thought, slightly aggravated that her son never had any juicy gossip when he returned from his yearly visit.

  “Well anyway,” she said. “I wish to see you.”

  “When I get back,” Armand said, wondering what the hell she wanted now.

  “You just got back,” Peggy said, pointing out the obvious.

  “I know,” he said impatiently. “But tonight I fly to Vegas for an important meeting.”

  “What time tonight?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, Armand, it does,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Because tonight I am coming with you.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Upon awaking early Thursday, Bobby was pleased with himself. He had not answered his door to the four A.M. caller, whom he was positive was Zeena. His only fear was that she might have been accompanied by a bodyguard who would be quite capable of springing the lock on his front door. Fortunately, this had not happened, and after fifteen minutes, the ringing had stopped and he’d gone back to bed. Now it was morning and he was safe.

  Man! What an insane situation. Scared of an ego-driven superstar desperate to get in his pants. Who would believe it?

  After shaving and showering, he called Denver, who was at work. “I’m hoping to catch a three o’clock flight out of here,” he told her. “That means if I don’t get delayed, I should be with you around six.”

  “Uh … how do you feel about dinner at my family’s house?” she ventured, thinking that the time had come. “Family dinners are a Thursday-night tradition, and since you haven’t met them, I thought…”

  “You mean you’re actually going to introduce me to
your family?” he teased. “What are you—on drugs?”

  She laughed weakly. “Is that a yes?”

  “Damn right it’s a yes.”

  “Then consider yourself invited.”

  “Oh, you bet your ass I will.”

  Things were looking up. He was finally going to meet Denver’s family. He couldn’t wait.

  * * *

  “Morning,” Billy said, fit and tanned, tousled dirty-blond hair flopping on his forehead.

  Max rolled across the sand and slowly opened her eyes. There he was, Billy Melina, standing over her holding a glass of orange juice. So it wasn’t all a crazy dream! He’s here, and so am I.

  “Where … where did you get that?” she asked as he passed her the glass.

  “From the house,” he said calmly. “Hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s a freakin’ wreck up there. We’re gonna need a cleanin’ crew.”

  We; he’d said we. How exciting was that!

  The sun was just coming up and it was chilly. Shivering slightly, she attempted to recall details of the previous night. Getting together with Billy was some kind of wonderful hazy blur. But one thing she knew for sure was that it had been totally great, and she didn’t regret one single minute of it.

  “You’re still here,” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head.

  “Course I’m still here,” he answered cheerfully. “What did you think, that I was gonna run off an’ leave you?”

  She gazed up into his super-blue eyes and broke into a wide grin. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” she said happily.

  He grinned back. “No,” he said sincerely. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “Oh, like you know me so well,” he teased, dropping onto the sand next to her and placing his arm around her shoulders.

  She snuggled close. “You do know that last night was … uh … my … uh … first time,” she murmured softly.

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I kinda realized that.”

  “And you weren’t disappointed?” she asked, dying to hear what he would say.

  “Are you kiddin’ me?” he said, throwing her a quizzical look. “You made it all the way to eighteen, that’s almost a record.”

  “Uh … actually, I won’t be eighteen until Saturday,” she confessed, deciding that she’d better be honest with him.

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, I kinda fudged a little,” she admitted.

  “Ah, jeez!” he groaned.

  “What?”

  “That means you’re not even legal.”

  “Almost,” she said quickly.

  “‘Almost’ doesn’t cut it,” he said, imagining the headlines if this got out. “You do realize I could get my ass thrown into jail for what we did last night?”

  “Who’s going to know?”

  “You, me, and no one else, right?” he said, swallowing hard.

  “Right,” she agreed.

  “That means you cannot tell anyone—an’ I mean anyone. Got it?”

  “Like who exactly am I gonna tell?” she asked, regaining a little of her composure.

  “Lucky, for a start.”

  “You have to be insane!” she exclaimed. “Lucky’s the last person I’d tell.”

  “And who’d be the first?”

  “Oh, I dunno,” she answered vaguely. “The National Enquirer, Star magazine, TMZ—”

  He lunged on top of her, and they rolled across the sand, laughing. The orange juice spilled, but neither of them cared.

  “You’re funny,” he said.

  “I try,” she replied, suddenly breathless.

  “And a nasty little liar,” he added, but not in a bad way.

  “Sorry,” she said, feeling quite exhilarated.

  “But I like you,” he said quickly.

  “And I like you back,” she replied, equally fast.

  “Jeez, this is crazy, isn’t it?” he said, touching her face.

  “Way crazy,” she replied, marveling at the intense blue of his eyes and the feel of his hard body on top of her.

  Actually, it was beyond crazy. Never mind about the party, if Lucky and Lennie found out about her night of lust with Billy, they would totally freak! Her losing her virginity probably wouldn’t faze them. But her losing it to Billy Melina was a big huge NO!

  Anyway, who cared? She’d just experienced the most fantastic, awesome night of her life. Now all she really wanted to do was be by herself so she could relive every magical, fantastic moment.

  “I suppose we should drag our asses up to the house,” Billy said.

  “I guess,” she said, worrying about what kind of devastation she’d find.

  “I’d better warn you, you’re not gonna be thrilled,” Billy said, leaping to his feet and helping her up.

  “Is anyone still there?”

  “A coupla strays.”

  She hoped the strays were Cookie and Harry, but she doubted it. Knowing them, they’d both taken off and left her to deal.

  “Is it a mess?”

  “You’d better believe it.”

  “What am I gonna do?” she groaned. “How am I gonna fix it?”

  “Don’t sweat it.”

  “Well,” she said, searching for a solution, “at least the housekeepers are coming back at noon.”

  “Gonna take more than a couple of maids to fix this,” Billy said, shaking his head.

  “You think?” she asked nervously.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the steps that led up to the house. “I’ve already called my manager. He’s gettin’ a crew over here.”

  “You can’t do that,” she said, frowning. “I’ve got to keep this under the radar.”

  “Don’t worry, my manager’s a cool dude. Nobody’s gonna know whose house it is.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, certain that somehow or other she was going to get busted. Oh God! The wrath of Lucky and Lennie didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Course I’m sure.”

  Billy’s amazing, she thought, gazing up at him. He won’t let me down. He’s definitely a take-charge kinda dude, unlike Ace, who’s always vacillating about what he’s going to do with his life.

  Still … Ace had been her on-again, off-again boyfriend for eighteen months, and now she would have to break up with him for sure. She liked him, she’d just never liked him enough for him to be The One. The truth was, even if she never saw Billy again, she was glad he’d turned out to be The One. It was super karma.

  As they reached the top of the steps and approached the once immaculate pool area, she let out a gasp of horror. “Oh my God!” she yelled, trying to control a sudden rush of panic. “They’ve trashed my house!”

  A trail of destruction surrounded the pool. There were overturned loungers, overflowing ashtrays, cigarette butts stamped out on the marble surround by the pool, and empty firework boxes everywhere, plus scorch marks on some of the sun umbrellas. Not to mention crushed beer cans, broken bottles, half-eaten burgers, cartons of French fries, ketchup spilled everywhere, and trash, trash, trash.

  The pool resembled a garbage dump—what hadn’t ended up around it was in it. A mass of floating debris.

  “Lucky’s going to kill me,” Max wailed. “She’ll freaking murder me!”

  “Stay cool,” Billy said, in charge and liking it. “It’ll all be taken care of.”

  Venus had never let him take charge; she’d had “people” to do everything. This situation was refreshing, made him feel manly and useful.

  “When?” Max demanded, thinking of all the ways she could be punished. “How?”

  “They’re on their way,” Billy assured her.

  “Who’s on their way?”

  “I told you, I called my manager. A cleaning crew will be here any minute.”

  “You think?” she said, forcing herself to calm down because she had no wish for him to perceive her as a hysterical kid. That would really be lame. After all, he was used to bein
g with Venus—who was not only a worldwide superstar, but the epitome of cool, even though she was old. Well, not exactly old, but certainly older than him.

  “It’s a done deal,” he said easily. “So calm down.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do,” he said, taking her hand and leading her over to the outside bar, where they perched on two tall bar stools.

  “I’m, uh … going to Vegas later today,” Max blurted. “Lucky’s throwing me a birthday party on Saturday.”

  “No shit?” he said, picking up a half-full bottle of Evian and taking a long swig.

  “It’s not what I want,” she said quickly. “Not at all.”

  “No more parties for you, huh?” he said, thinking what a knockout she was with her dark curly hair, olive skin, and brilliant green eyes. So different from Venus, who was all seductive blond perfection and toned muscles.

  But she was young—too young?

  Hell no. He was Billy Melina; he could hook up with anyone he wanted.

  “Absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head. Then after taking a long beat she added, “I don’t suppose…” Trailing off, she looked at him expectantly.

  He caught her drift and hurriedly said, “Sorry—no. Much as I’d like to be there for you, it ain’t gonna happen.” No way, babe. Are you kidding? Lucky would have my balls for breakfast.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “I get it.” She sighed.

  And then she thought, But there’s no way I’m giving up on Billy Melina.

  No way at all.

  * * *

  Once a year Lucky planned a board meeting for all her original investors, hopefully a celebration of how well The Keys was doing in such a downward economy. Generally Vegas had taken a big hit, but not The Keys, oh no. Business was on an upward spiral.

  The day before the meeting she gathered a group of her key executives, who early on had each received shares in her company. Being part of the process was the biggest incentive of all, and everyone appreciated Lucky’s generosity. She’d learned from Gino that making people who worked for her feel like part of a family was a key move. Actually, it was something she enjoyed; personal interaction couldn’t be beat for creating a loyal group of executives who were always there for her.

  A lunchtime gathering took place on one of the flower-filled outdoor patios, where Lucky made sure to have a one-on-one conversation with each individual. She had a knack for not only remembering everyone’s name, but also remembering the names of their spouses, kids, and family pets if they had any. Lucky was adored by the people who worked for her; they were extremely dedicated, and they too strived for The Keys to be the best it could be.