by Joanna Rees
‘There they are,’ Aidan said with a grin. ‘Don’t be scared. They’re really friendly. We met them yesterday.’
They swam to where the water was a much darker, deeper blue. Then suddenly the surface broke again. The dolphins were near this time. Large, shiny and grey.
Lois trod water as she watched them circling Aidan and gently butting him. Then she gasped in amazement as he hooked his arm around the back fin of one of the dolphins and let it pull him through the water.
It was an incredible sight. Something Lois had seen only on TV and at the aquarium in Florida as a kid, but had never imagined seeing up close like this in the wild. Soon Zak had joined Aidan and Lois laughed.
But much as she was enjoying herself, all too soon she became aware of how tired she was. She hadn’t been swimming for ages and treading water like this was making her legs ache. But she so desperately didn’t want Aidan or Zak to see how weak she felt. They’d been so kind to her, bringing her out here.
She was on the verge of turning to swim back when something hit her. She hadn’t seen the third dolphin coming. But suddenly, her eyes and mouth were full of water and she was choking, struggling for air, as pain seared across her back.
Strong arms gripped her, holding her tight. It was Aidan. In a moment, he’d positioned her so that he was taking all her weight. She coughed the water clear from her throat and heaved in fresh air.
Keeping her head above the water, Aidan swam with her back to the yacht. Tears of mortification threatened to swamp her. She was such a goddam idiot. What had she been thinking of? After the last graft, her surgeon had cautioned her against anything strenuous. At the first sign of discomfort, she should have listened to her body and turned back.
Zak overtook them and hoisted himself out of the water. He helped Aidan lift her up into the cockpit.
‘Get the first-aid kit,’ Aidan said to Zak. ‘What happened?’ he asked her, grabbing a towel and putting it round her shoulders.
‘The other dolphin. It . . .’ Her face contorted with pain. Her scar had ruptured, she was sure of it. She touched her fingers against it and winced. When she took her hand away, there was blood.
‘Let me see,’ he said.
He gently moved aside the fabric of her bathing suit. His eyes widened.
‘What’s that? A gunshot wound?’
She nodded, grimacing with pain.
‘And it looks like you’ve had graft work on it since?’
‘The last one was three months ago,’ she said.
She clamped her jaw tight to stop herself from crying out as he examined the wound more closely.
‘Well, for what it’s worth,’ he said, ‘the damage you’ve done just now is pretty superficial. A shot like that . . . you’re lucky to be alive.’
His voice was husky and hoarse all of a sudden. His face was so close, she could see the droplets of water on his eyebrows and eyelashes, sparkling like jewels in the sun.
Zak handed over a white padded first-aid box to Aidan. ‘What happened?’ he asked, noticing her scar for the fist time.
Lois forced a smile. ‘I got a short, sharp reminder not to show off to new friends.’
‘We’ll put a dressing on it,’ Aidan said. His hands worked quickly, expertly. It was clearly something he’d done many times before.
‘So I guess . . . the bullet . . . it went right through?’ he asked.
Lois nodded, grimacing again as he swabbed the scar tissue before pressing the dressing into place. When he held it down, she wished he’d keep his hand there for ever.
‘Look away,’ Aidan told Zak. ‘You’re going to have to roll your costume down, so I can bind this properly,’ he told Lois. ‘I’m going to need to strap it round your waist to hold it in place. Here, use the towel to cover yourself up.’
She did as she was told and a moment later the job was done. She felt the pain dropping off. He was right. She hadn’t hurt herself as badly as she’d first thought.
‘I can’t believe you got shot! I mean, when? Why? Who did it?’ Zak asked. He was looking from Lois to Aidan and back.
Lois let out a pent-up breath and turned her attention to Zak. ‘There was an assassination attempt on Senator Fernandez two years ago at the Enzo Vegas and—’
‘Oh my God,’ Zak interrupted. ‘You were that chick, the one that took the bullet. I saw it on TV! That is awesome.’
Lois felt embarrassed by Zak’s reaction. Glancing across at Aidan, she saw that his eyes had darkened. He held her look for a moment, but she couldn’t begin to read what he was thinking. He turned away and she felt it as forcefully as if he’d pushed her. Her cheeks were burning with shame, over having lied to him about her career, over having deliberately not mentioned the one act that defined it.
‘Zak,’ he said. ‘Get the anchor up and make ready to leave.’
‘No, honestly,’ Lois protested. ‘Don’t turn around because of me. I’m fine, honestly.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone swimming,’ Aidan said. ‘You’re still healing. We’re taking you back now.’
There was such finality in his voice that she shrank back, mortified. All the closeness that had been there earlier had simply vanished. It was as if a shutter had gone up. And now she had absolutely no idea how to get it back down.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The following night, as the ten finalists gathered at the raised table area in the softly lit atrium, Lois was still kicking herself about what had happened with Aidan. He’d kept her frozen out on the way back to shore and hadn’t given her a chance to explain. Zak’s excited chatter had only made matters worse. He’d refused to let the subject drop until she’d told him to, leaving poor Zak as offended as his father.
The simple fact was that she’d been caught lying and now the only thing she could do was to front it out. Tomorrow she’d be heading back home, never to see Aidan or Zak again. She must put the whole sorry and embarrassing episode behind her.
Lois concentrated on checking the packs of cards one last time, shuffling them. She’d been handling cards for as long as she could remember. It didn’t even cross her mind, the skill came so naturally, but she noticed a few of the players stop to watch her as she cascaded the packs between her hands. Aidan ignored her, walking past to take his seat, his face a mask.
Dressed as he was, in a smart suit rather than swimming shorts, he looked . . . handsome. The word sprang into her head. Aidan wasn’t handsome, was he? But when she looked again, she had to admit that he scrubbed up pretty well for a mercenary. Was that why she was finding it so hard to stop looking at him? Because something about Aidan Bailey had got to her. Got inside her. And it was a feeling she hadn’t had for a very, very long time.
As the players got ready for the start of play, there was plenty of friendly banter, Jai’s being the loudest voice amongst them. Pieter Von Triers, the art dealer Lois had dined with on the first night, had let slip that Jai Shijai had lost nearly two million dollars last year. Over half of it in a single hand. He clearly had old scores to settle and was starting to talk raucously about wagers.
But no matter how fascinating the ensuing duels between Jai Shijai and his rivals were, as the guests now began to play in earnest, Lois’s eyes kept being drawn back again and again to Aidan Bailey, until she wondered whether Anthony, the sharpest-eyed dealer she’d ever met both in and out of the Enzo Vegas, had noticed.
But whether Anthony had noticed or not, Aidan certainly hadn’t. Yesterday he’d been so open and friendly, but now, at the table, as the players settled and Anthony started to deal, he seemed cold and emotionless. Which was the real Aidan? she wondered. Was this just an act? Or was this closer to his real personality? She couldn’t tell.
In fact, the more Aidan played, the more he fascinated her. At the Enzo Vegas, she’d studied hours of footage of the best players at work. She’d got to watch them ‘live’ as well, to the point where she now considered herself something of an expert when it came to spotting ‘tells’ – the
minute changes in a player’s body language that betrayed their inner psyche.
But Aidan’s expression was impossible to read. She’d encountered criminals like this during her years at the SFPD. Men who could commit terrible crimes and appear totally unaffected. Was Aidan really as hard as he seemed, or was he simply using the early rounds to work out the others’ styles?
Of course, she’d often seen this strategy work – with gifted amateur players – but as the play continued, Aidan quickly got suckered into upping the ante. It would have been hard not to. No matter how good a poker face Aidan had, the men he was sitting with were some of the richest gamblers in the world. And they were prepared to lose hand after hand to someone like Aidan, knowing that eventually their luck would change. And when it did, and if the ante was sufficiently high, they’d crush someone like him like a fly. And they wouldn’t think twice about it.
Such a hand came towards the end of the first session. Aidan got lured into a head-to-head with Pieter Von Triers. And the outcome was cruel. Aidan had a flush, but Pieter had a royal. Aidan lost the lot. A whole lot. Enough to make Lois worry.
But he showed as little emotion when he lost as he had done when he’d won. It was almost like it had never been his money he’d been gambling with.
It was midnight when Lois called the first break. Jai was already down half a million, but she wanted to give Aidan time to reflect away from the heat of the battle. To give him the opportunity to do the sensible thing, take the loss on the chin and walk away.
He might have frozen Lois out, but she still remembered how warm he’d been to begin with. She thought of Zak. No child deserved a father who didn’t know when to stop. She knew that from bitter experience.
She hoped Aidan wasn’t the kind of man that her father had been – the type who’d go to Jai Shijai and ask to borrow more to gamble with.
Busy as she was, preparing the table for the next session, she almost missed him. When she had a moment, she saw that Aidan was walking out of the far doors on to the terrace. She watched him shaking hands with several of the players, and even from a distance she could tell he was planning on leaving. Thank God. He’d made the right decision.
Telling Anthony she’d be back in a minute, she caught up with Aidan on the lawn at the bottom of the pagoda.
‘Aidan, please,’ she said, reaching out to grab his arm.
He turned and faced her. Through the door, she saw Jai Shijai glance over towards where they were standing. Aidan noticed too.
‘I see our host has taken quite a shine to you. But he’s not a man you want to get too close to, Lois,’ he warned.
‘Why not?’
‘Just trust me. With men like that . . . nothing’s ever quite as it seems. You cannot afford to cross Jai Shijai. If you cross him, you’ll make him an enemy for life.’
‘But—’
Before she could ask him what he meant, he cut her off. ‘I should be getting back,’ he said. ‘You know . . . Zak.’
‘Aidan, I’m sorry . . . about tonight,’ Lois blurted.
He shrugged. ‘You win some, you lose some,’ he said. ‘That’s how it goes.’ He nodded and, smiling briefly, he half turned to go. ‘It was nice meeting you, Lois.’
She took a deep breath. She had to do this. Say this for herself as much as him. Because she wasn’t ashamed of herself, no matter how much the press had twisted the truth about her past.
‘I’m sorry I lied to you,’ she said.
‘You don’t have to apologize.’
‘I do.’ She heaved in another breath. ‘What happened with the senator . . . the whole media circus that followed . . . I got used to putting up barriers . . . to keeping people at bay.’
He smiled, gently. ‘It’s OK, Lois. I overreacted. It just blindsided me at the time, that’s all.’
‘No. I was discourteous to you.’
‘Well, thanks for being so honest,’ he said. ‘Now, I mean.’
He looked awkwardly up from the soft moonlit grass to the pagoda stretching above them to the starlit sky.
‘You know you could check on Zak,’ Lois said, ‘from up there.’ She nodded up at the pagoda. ‘It was from there that I first spotted your yacht.’
Aidan looked from the pagoda to Lois.
‘Will you show me?’ he said.
There was hardly any time. The dealers would be wondering where she was. And what would Jai Shijai do if he noticed that Lois had disappeared with Aidan? But for once, she didn’t care. She hoped Anthony would make excuses for her.
Even so, she felt her heart pounding. Was she really here just to show Aidan the view of his yacht? Or was it more that she wanted him alone? Just for a moment.
Either way, she couldn’t believe she’d acted so impulsively. She quickly followed Aidan inside and groped for the wooden staircase, struggling up the rough stairs in her tight sequinned dress. She was crazy to be doing this. Crazy. But still she didn’t stop.
In a moment they were out through the small wooden door at the top and Lois knew the risk had been worth it. In the distance the moon was full and yellow, surrounded by stars. Aidan stared up into the sky and for the first time all evening she saw him relax, as if he’d shed some great burden. And as he turned to her and smiled, he was suddenly back to being the man she’d first met on the yacht yesterday, laughing with his son, taking her sailing and swimming, before soothing away her pain. This was the face, she suddenly realized, that she’d been longing to see all night.
‘Beautiful,’ he sighed.
‘There’s the yacht,’ Lois said, leaning towards Aidan as she pointed around the tree to where his yacht was moored. A light glowed in the cabin.
‘Zak’s still there then,’ Aidan said. ‘He hasn’t gone for a joyride.’
They stood side by side in silence. Lois knew how tight the time was, but it felt wrong to break the sudden peace. She longed for the right words to say, to tell him that she hoped their paths would cross again. To find a way for this not to be the end.
‘I suppose this is it, then,’ he said.
‘I guess so.’ She failed to hide the disappointment in her voice.
‘I was just thinking,’ he said, glancing sideways. ‘This is rather romantic, isn’t it?’
‘I guess . . .’
‘Pity it’s wasted on us.’
Lois bit her lip. Did he think she’d brought him up here for a romantic moment? He must do. And she hadn’t done, had she? This moment certainly hadn’t been planned – premeditated – as he seemed to be implying.
This was why she was never impulsive, she thought. Because it always backfired. And she had no way of coping with being put on the spot like this.
Over at the house, she could see the other players were settling back down at the table.
‘I’ve got to go back,’ she said, suddenly feeling flushed.
‘I know.’
‘You’re not tempted to come back yourself?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I know when I’m beaten.’
She nodded, then stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. She stepped forward slightly, intending to shake Aidan’s hand, although the setting seemed far too intimate for that.
But he stepped towards her at the same time and they bumped into one another. He kissed her softly on the lips. They stayed locked, suspended in a deliciously stretched moment. Then he pulled away.
‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ he said. He seemed as shocked as she was. As if he hadn’t really meant to kiss her at all.
‘No, no, it’s fine.’ Lois covered her mouth with her fingertips. She could feel her lips tingling.
‘Lois,’ a voice called up. ‘Lois? Is that you?’
Looking down, she saw Anthony on the lawn, staring up.
‘Go,’ Aidan said.
‘Call me,’ she said.
He stared at her in surprise.
‘Next time you’re in Vegas,’ she continued, blushing. ‘On business,’ she added, backtracking now as he continued to st
are. ‘I’ll be able to fix you up with good rates – if you wanted to stay.’
He was still staring.
Turning on her heels, she ran down the wooden stairs and back to the game.
What was that? she thought, as she hurried back to the bright lights of Jai Shijai’s poker game. But she was smiling, she realized. And she couldn’t stop.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Savvy woke with a start from a fitful sleep. She groaned, the familiar thumping headache assaulting her once more.
She felt rancid. Every joint in her body hurt. Her throat was dry and her eyes sore, whilst her stomach churned. It was like the worst hangover in the world, except that this wasn’t a hangover. This was detox, pure and simple. And it was hideous.
She lay sprawled out on the large bed, the soft white Egyptian sheet clinging to her skin, soaked in sweat from another night of fevered dreams.
She looked up at the fan, remembering her plan to hang herself with her dressing gown cord two weeks ago. What a joke.
Dr Savage had told her she’d been lucky not to electrocute herself.
She’d got as far as tying the cord round the fan before she’d slumped to the floor, unable to go through with it. Too useless. Too gutless. Even for that.
She’d torn out clumps of her own hair as Dr Savage arrived, and she’d hysterically begged him to give her something that would make everything go away.
Of course, they’d kept a proper eye on her after that. For the next ten days, a softly spoken nurse, Hannah, had slept in a camp bed right here on the floor beside her.
But they’d relaxed their vigilance three nights ago now. Something she’d said in one of her therapy sessions must have convinced Dr Savage that she was no longer a danger to herself.
And he was right, she supposed. She still felt shit. She still hated this place. But she’d stopped looking up at that fan and seeing herself hanging from it . . . and stopped dreaming of the nearby cliffs and the rush of air beneath her feet.
She had no idea how she was going to handle the future, but she knew that she had to try. Because she was determined to get well and get out of here. Going back to the way she was, slipping back into the cesspool of her old life, would mean that Luc had been right about her. That she was a nobody, a nothing he could trick and push aside. That would mean he’d won. And she wasn’t going to let that happen. Not for her sake. And not for Elodie’s.
