The Power Trip

by Jackie Collins

  ‘Ohhh . . .’ Mercedes mocked, feigning dismay. ‘Whatever will I do?’

  Guy was shocked by her insolence. Captain Dickson was right, he should not have hired her.

  Never again, that was for sure. She could whistle for a decent reference.

  * * *

  ‘I was thinking that after we leave the yacht, I might stay at our house in Miami with you for a week or two before returning to London,’ Jeromy ventured. ‘Just the two of us. Does that suit you?’

  They were sitting at a table with Taye and Ashley who had spent the majority of the evening whispering to each other like a couple of teenagers on a secret date. Also at the table were the Senator and his wife, who apparently didn’t talk at all.

  Luca gazed longingly over at the next table where his new best friend, Lori, was sitting with Cliff, Aleksandr, Flynn and Xuan. Bianca had failed to put in an appearance. He wondered what they were all talking about, and wished he could simply get up, leave his table and go fill the empty chair.

  ‘What do you think?’ Jeromy persisted, irritated that Luca appeared to be ignoring him.

  Luca was not comfortable with confrontations, especially when it came to Jeromy, who could turn into a bitchy queen within seconds. However, since there was safety in numbers, and even though Taye and Ashley were doing their own thing, Luca felt brave enough to tell Jeromy the truth.

  ‘No,’ he said evenly. ‘It doesn’t suit me, Jeromy. Not at all.’

  Jeromy tapped the side of his wine glass and cleared his throat. ‘Excuse me?’ he said peevishly, his long thin nose quivering slightly. ‘I thought you would be delighted for us to spend more time together.’

  ‘Suga and Luca junior are coming to stay with me before I take off on the next leg of my South American tour,’ Luca said. ‘I’m planning on spending as much quality time with them as I can.’

  ‘That’s no problem, we’ll spend quality time together,’ Jeromy responded, sensing his blond god slowly slipping out of his greedy grasp. ‘Me, you, the boy.’

  ‘His name is Luca junior,’ Luca said pointedly. ‘And the four of us together – that doesn’t work for me.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I need time alone with them.’ Luca paused, wondering how far he could push it. ‘Besides, you can’t stand Suga, you’ve told me enough times.’

  ‘I might have criticized her once or twice,’ Jeromy admitted with a vague shrug. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t like her. She’s . . . uh . . .’

  He trailed off. Who was he kidding? Certainly not Luca, who apparently had grown a new set of balls, for Jeromy knew how his young lover shied away from any kind of discord. Not tonight though.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, feeling his throat tighten. ‘I’ll fly straight to London. I wouldn’t want to get in your way.’

  Luca was relieved. If Jeromy flew directly to London he could break up with him long distance. He knew it was the cowardly thing to do, but a full-out row with Jeromy was not something he wished to contemplate.

  Jeromy would not go quietly into the night, of that he was sure.

  * * *

  Bianca paced around the luxurious master suite like a caged tigress. How had she allowed one small disagreement to blossom into a fully-fledged fight?

  She was mad at herself. Then again, she was even more mad at the Chinese do-gooder with the compact body and shiny black hair. Was it possible that Aleksandr actually fancied her?

  No. Pure fantasy. How could Aleksandr even look at another woman when he had her? Their lovemaking alone was superlative, passionate and mind-blowing. Nobody could beat the magic they made together.

  Tomorrow was her birthday, and for the last few hours her inner voice had been giving her a stern lecture.

  Forgive him or you’ll lose him.

  Why should I?

  Because he’s a man. A proud, strong man. And for once admit you’re wrong.

  I’m not wrong.

  Who cares? Stop ruining everything.

  Okay, okay, I get it.

  Impulsively, she reached for a sheet of paper and scribbled Aleksandr a short note. Then she rang for someone to take it to him.

  Soon he would be all hers again.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  By eleven p.m. Cruz had launched both boats. He’d heard from Mercedes that things were winding down on The Bianca, guests were retiring early and everything was on track.

  Mercedes was a real asset; she’d turned out to be the son he’d always dreamed of having. She was as tough as a boy in a female body. And she was his daughter. Her mother was dead. He’d raised her himself, trained her to take no shit from anybody, taught her plenty – all the tricks. She was a smart girl, a fast learner, sharp as a carving knife.

  In a way he almost depended on her. As far as this job was concerned, it sure helped having someone on the inside, for this job was special. Major bucks were on the line. Not to mention Sergei Zukov hovering over him like a hawk. No fuck-ups allowed.

  He fingered the hunting knife he kept close to his shin in a concealed pocket. On occasion knives could be more intimidating than guns. People recoiled from knives and so they should. The slash of steel cutting into flesh was never pretty, and Cruz had a few scars to prove it. He often recalled the whore in Guatemala who’d attempted to rob him after a wild night of sex. She’d wielded a carving knife across his stomach and almost killed him. Fortunately he’d been found on the street where her pimp had dumped him, and a Good Samaritan cab driver had rushed him to a nearby clinic. When he’d recovered, Cruz had tracked down the cab driver and handed the surprised and grateful man five thousand dollars in cash. Next he’d returned to the whore’s room, slit her throat and shot her pimp in the balls. No regrets.

  Then there was the skipper of the cargo ship who’d come at him with a steak knife and managed to slash his neck before Cruz had plunged his own knife into the man’s heart. Death while protecting some rich oil company man’s shit. Estúpido.

  Yes, Cruz had experienced several encounters with knives. He was not afraid of violence.

  Sergei’s decision not to be a part of the hijack pleased him. Having the man along would only have slowed things down, and there was no doubt that he would’ve gotten in the way.

  Meanwhile, after Googling him, Cruz had discovered that this Kasianenko puta was one richer-than-shit asshole, worth billions. The joke was that all they were asking as a ransom was a measly five million dollars.

  It wasn’t enough. By the time he’d split the money with Sergei and paid his men their share, he’d be lucky to end up with a paltry million.

  He’d attempted to explain this to Sergei, who was more interested in taking Kasianenko prisoner than walking away with a king’s ransom. The problem was that Sergei was so loaded down with drug money he didn’t care. All he was really focused on was getting his revenge.

  After thinking about it for the past few days, Cruz had begun to realize that if he played it his way, this hijack caper could turn out to be the score of a lifetime. Forget about the five mill. How about fifty? Or even one hundred?

  If he was smart, it could all be his. Enough to get him out of the piracy business once and for all. He could get the fuck out of Somalia and buy himself a fancy mansion far away – the Bahamas, Los Angeles, Argentina – anywhere in the world. He could live a life where he wasn’t forced to surround himself with armed guards and watch his back at all times in case some Somalian chingado decided to get rid of the foreigner who was making money from their business.

  Why not? This was an opportunity that would never come around again.

  Cruz was conflicted. As the powerful speedboat sped across the nighttime sea, crowded with his men and one of Sergei’s guards – he’d separated the two Russians – he couldn’t decide what to do. If he didn’t go along with what Sergei expected, he’d be saddled with a lifetime enemy.

  Yet . . . if he handled things his way, he’d have more money than he’d ever imagined.

  Sergei�
��s way.

  His way.

  He didn’t have much time to make the right decision.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  ‘Y’know, I never realized making up could be this sexy,’ Bianca purred, twisting her long slender legs around Aleksandr’s neck as the two of them lay naked and entwined on the over-sized bed in the master suite.

  ‘You took me away from our guests,’ Aleksandr said, shifting his body until he was able to plunge his tongue into her silky wetness.

  ‘Uumm . . .’ she moaned with pleasure. ‘Perhaps they needed an early night.’

  Aleksandr came up for air. ‘You are such a provocative woman, Bianca,’ he said, his voice heavy with lust. ‘At times you make me into a crazy man.’

  ‘Crazy with desire, I hope,’ she murmured, adjusting her position until she was able to take him in her mouth as he continued to pleasure her.

  ‘Yes, my golubushka,’ he groaned. ‘Always desire.’

  A few moments of bliss before a simultaneous orgasm occurred.

  After vocalizing her pleasure, Bianca rolled over and threw her arms above her head. ‘That was amazing,’ she cooed.

  ‘For both of us,’ Aleksandr said, thinking how satisfied he was that Bianca had apologized. She was truly sorry, and so was he for entertaining sexual thoughts about Xuan.

  ‘You are without a doubt the best lover,’ Bianca sighed, feeling extremely content. ‘The best I ever had.’

  ‘You too, my sweet. And for the future we have to make absolutely sure that petty jealousy never separates us again.’

  ‘And it never will,’ Bianca assured him. ‘I promise you that.’

  Goodbye, Asian piece of work, he’s back on my side of the court.

  * * *

  ‘I’m so tired,’ Lori said, trying to suppress a yawn as she and Cliff entered their room. ‘I got too much sun today, my arms are all tingly.’

  ‘You’re not alone,’ Cliff said. ‘I overdid it on the Wave-Runners. Too much exercise,’ he added, making a face. ‘I’m turning into an old man.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ she objected.

  He grinned, full of movie-star charisma. ‘No, I’m not,’ he agreed.

  ‘So . . . no sex tonight then?’ Lori said lightly. ‘You don’t want me to—’

  ‘No,’ Cliff said quickly. ‘Tonight all I want to do is crawl into bed and cuddle with my girl. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Yes, Cliff,’ Lori said, glowing. ‘That’s absolutely perfect.’

  * * *

  Thank God these beds are king-size, Luca thought, making sure he stuck to his side of the mattress.

  Jeromy emerged from the bathroom in his pretentious silk pyjamas with his initials embroidered on the pocket.

  They didn’t speak. There was nothing to say.

  Just like that they both knew it was over, although unbeknownst to Luca, Jeromy was not giving up without a fight.

  * * *

  ‘Who’s up for a movie?’ Taye asked, full of energy and ready to stay awake for another couple of hours. ‘There’s a selection of five thousand DVDs in the screening room. Bloody hell – we can take a vote.’

  ‘Don’t want to watch a movie,’ Ashley said, miffed that Cliff Baxter had practically ignored her all night. ‘I’m off to bed.’

  ‘Me too,’ Sierra said, shooting a quick glance at Hammond. He didn’t move. ‘Good night everyone,’ she said, making a swift exit, wondering if she’d run into Flynn who’d already left. Or perhaps Hammond would follow her. She prayed not.

  ‘Dunno why everyone’s such a drag tonight,’ Taye complained to Xuan and Hammond, the last guests left. ‘Aren’t we supposed to be havin’ fun?’

  ‘Tomorrow is fun night,’ Xuan said dryly. ‘All the fun you could ever want.’ She was disappointed that Aleksandr had retired early. They had plans to make, things to discuss. Perhaps in the morning she could firm up some future meetings for when they were off the yacht.

  ‘Yeah, well I like to have fun every night,’ Taye grumbled.

  ‘It’s almost midnight,’ Xuan pointed out, delicately suppressing a yawn. ‘It’s too late for me to sit through a movie.’

  ‘Right,’ Hammond said, glancing at his watch and getting up. ‘Time to pack it in.’

  Taye shrugged. What had be been thinking? Only a few more nights on the yacht and then it was back to Blighty and the twins and his mother-in-law. So why was he wasting making-love time?

  Ashley was waiting. No movie tonight.

  * * *

  After ten minutes of searching for Renee, Hammond discovered her on the top deck still clearing up from the barbecue. She blushed when she saw him approaching.

  Den was also there, tidying up behind the bar. Ignoring him, Hammond went straight over to Renee. ‘I must see you,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Where can we be together?’

  Renee squirmed uncomfortably. At the beginning of the trip, fellow Australian Den had tried to stir up a bit of a flirt. She’d shut him down, not because she didn’t like him, but because she knew it would be foolish to start up something with a bloke she was working with. It was a bit embarrassing though; she didn’t want Den thinking there was anything going on between her and the Senator.

  ‘Can’t talk right now,’ she managed in a hoarse whisper. ‘Can you meet me back here in an hour?’

  ‘An hour? I can’t wait that long,’ Hammond complained, a surly expression crossing his bland face. ‘Surely you understand that I’ve been thinking about you all day?’

  Renee’s stomach performed a wild somersault. She was flattered and excited all at the same time. Senator Patterson was a very important man and he wanted to be with her! ‘You’ll have to,’ she said, slightly desperate. ‘I’ll be here. Promise.’

  ‘Very well.’ Hammond glanced over at Den. ‘Lost my reading glasses,’ he said in a loud voice. ‘Anyone seen them?’

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ Den replied, then remembering who he was talking to, he added, ‘Uh, I mean Senator Patterson.’

  ‘Not to worry,’ Hammond said, walking briskly away. ‘I’m sure they’ll turn up.’

  Den immediately ducked out from behind the bar and made his way over to Renee. ‘What’s up with him?’ he asked, hovering beside her.

  Renee shrugged. ‘How would I know?’ she said, trying to appear super-casual but not succeeding.

  ‘He was all up in your face,’ Den accused. ‘What’s the old geezer want?’

  ‘You heard him,’ Renee said, her cheeks reddening. ‘His bloody reading glasses, and by the way – he’s not so old.’

  ‘Maybe not, but he is married,’ Den pointed out, giving her a hard look. ‘An’ that means you shouldn’t go gettin’ into some-thin’ you can’t handle.’

  ‘Oh please!’ Renee said, quite frustrated. ‘You’re being a dick. Nothing’s going on.’

  ‘Yeah, pull the other one,’ Den said sarcastically. ‘It’s got bells on it.’

  * * *

  Keeping track of everyone was not as easy as Mercedes had thought. She’d hoped that by midnight all the guests would have retired for the night. And while most of them had, there were still stragglers. Flynn Hudson for one. Why was he taking a midnight swim? Churning up and down the length of the pool as if he was training for the Olympics. And the Senator, lurking around trying to get into Renee’s pants. Mercedes decided she had to do something about that, stash them somewhere secure so they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire, if there was crossfire, which she doubted. They were on a private yacht cruising the Sea of Cortez, not a big old tanker chugging through the Indian Ocean loaded with oil. Nobody expected pirates to descend on them. Especially heavily armed Somalians intent on gaining immediate control.

  Captain Dickson had already retired for the night, as had most of the crew.

  The yacht was anchored near one of the deserted islands. All was quiet and peaceful, although Mercedes had checked the weather report and had a hunch that the storm was coming earlier than expected. In another life she co
uld’ve been a successful weather girl on TV, she thought. She had a knack for making accurate predictions.

  Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she ran upstairs to the top deck. Den was just locking up the bar and leaving.

  ‘Where’ve you bin?’ he said, glaring at her. ‘You’re supposed to help Renee clear up. Jeez! You’re so friggin’ lazy.’

  ‘Since when did you turn into Guy?’ she said irritably.

  ‘Since she always lets you take advantage of her,’ Den answered hotly. ‘Renee’s a beaut, an’ you’re a—’

  ‘A what?’ Mercedes said, challenging him, her eyes flashing danger. The last thing she needed was distractions.

  ‘Will you two shut up about me,’ Renee said, hurrying over to them. ‘Den, I’ll see you tomorrow. Mercedes, can I talk to you about something?’

  ‘Bet I know what that’s about,’ Den said, with a curl of his lip. ‘Some dipstick’s out to get his leg over. Maybe you can talk some bloody sense into her, car girl.’

  Den had called her ‘car girl’ ever since they’d boarded. Insulting hijo de su madre. He’d better get his ass down to his cabin before he got in anyone’s way.

  Renee was looking at her with a what-am-I-gonna-do guilty expression. Mercedes waited until Den left, then after Renee had filled her in, she said, ‘Take him to our cabin. It’s yours. Stay all night if you like.’

  ‘What about you?’ Renee questioned, wringing her hands. ‘It wouldn’t be right to throw you out of your own room.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Mercedes said, adding a quick, ‘I got my own thing going on.’

  ‘Wow!’ Renee gulped, quite excited. ‘Who with?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Mercedes said quickly. ‘Just take him to our cabin.’

  ‘You’re such a good mate,’ Renee enthused.

  Mercedes shrugged. ‘Not so much,’ she muttered.

  It was time to get back to Kyril. She’d already taken him a full plate of brownies, heavily laced with sedatives. Now came the real deal. A steaming mug of hot chocolate, or as Mercedes referred to it in her head – the Horse Tranquillizer Special.