“Alexander Stone, you must be hung over.”
“Just hung up, on you.”
His erection stiffened against her. He definitely had hanky-panky on his mind. He slipped the negligee off her shoulder, exposing her other breast, and kissed her nipple. It tightened, betraying her.
“I think you liked that.”
“I don’t think you’re fully awake, and you’re naked. So I’ll overlook your behavior. We’re going to miss our excursion.”
“It’s a sea day.”
“Oh.”
“Hallelujah, admit it. You want me as much as I want you.”
She tried to shift away from his grasp, but her movement only seemed to arouse him further.
“Maybe I’m dreaming, but I don’t want to wake up.” He rose above her and slipped off her panties. He kissed her again. She looked up at the mirror.
“Alexander, I feel like I woke up in a porno film. I went to bed in a nightgown and now I’m completely nude, and you’re—I mean, look at us.”
“I don’t want to look up. I’m looking at you, and I’m going to tell you exactly what I want to do with you.”
He grasped her hands and pushed them above her head so she was pinned on the bed. He teased her with his body. Then he kissed each nipple and took her lips.
She groaned. “Alexander, this isn’t like you.”
“I’m tired of being Mr. Nice Guy, Boring Hedge Fund Manager.” She squirmed, but that just excited him more.
“Do you really want me to stop?”
She had to admit her body didn’t want him to stop, but who knew about her mind? Whatever he was doing to her down there felt good, really good, but she had to put the brakes on before she regretted it.
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
“Is that a yes or a no?” He kept up the torture.
“We’re not ready.”
“We, as in you and me? Or we, as in you and Polly? Because I know I’m ready.”
She gathered her strength, loosened his grip on her hands, and flipped him so she was on top.
Alexander’s eyebrows rose in surprise and expectation. “If you want to take the lead, I can handle that.”
“Lloyd blamed Parker for our breakup. He said he could never measure up to Parker’s standards.”
“There are too many people in this bed, Hallelujah. I don’t want to talk about Lloyd or Parker or Polly, just you and me.”
“I just don’t want to make the same mistake.”
Alexander blew out a breath.
“Message received,” sighed Alexander, pulling away. “I’m going to take a cold shower. For God’s sake, get dressed then, Hallelujah.”
“What does God have to do with this?”
Alexander shook his head. “You’re the rabbi’s daughter. You tell me.” Alexander rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom.
Hallelujah had to empty her bladder, but she wasn’t going to do it in front of him. The marriage was on paper only. So she would hold it in until he came out of the shower.
She took her laptop and sat outside their cabin on a deck chair, watching lights go on in the houses that dotted the picturesque islands as they sailed toward Stockholm, dreaming up dialogue for Parker and Polly, but mostly daydreaming about Alexander.
Chapter Thirteen
Julian Hoffman
“I hope you have good news for me.” Julian got a stranglehold on his cell phone. He’d been expecting this call for days.
“I’ve found them, Herr Hoffman.”
Julian stopped pacing.
“Well?” Julian said impatiently.
“They’re on a cruise.”
“A cruise?”
“A Scandinavian cruise.”
“What?”
“A Scandinavian cruise. They’re not even using fake passports. We put in Stone’s name and it came up. They’ve been sailing on the Baltic all this time.”
Julian cursed.
“And another thing. He’s gotten married.”
“Married?”
“To that woman he was with at the airport in Rome. Her name is Hallelujah Evans Weiss—well, now it’s Hallelujah Stone.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“She’s Jewish.”
Julian tightened the grip on his cell phone.
“When do they dock? And where?”
“In Stockholm, two days from now.”
“You will have people waiting to greet the newlyweds when they disembark.”
“We will?”
“Are you dense? Of course you will. Have we not been chasing this pair around Europe? And now we’ve caught the lovebirds in our snare. You will be waiting. I suggest a driver holding a sign with their names when they come into baggage claim. With a complimentary ride to their destination. It will be our wedding present.”
“What is their destination, Herr Hoffman?”
“That is up to you to find out, you idiot. Don’t disappoint me again.”
“And where will I take them?”
“Straight back to Berlin, of course. To me. To the warehouse, where we’ll be undisturbed.”
“But what if they won’t come with me?”
“I trust you will find a way, any way, even if you have to drug them. Just deliver the lovebirds to me. And I will cage them and make them sing.”
Julian powered down his cell phone and sat at his desk until his heart stopped hammering.
Finally, things were coming together. He put his feet on the desk and contemplated his situation. It’s not that he didn’t have enough money. The Gruppen was so flush they couldn’t spend the profits they had in a lifetime. He had the Midas Touch. His father had even said so. Of course, when you start out with billions, it’s easy to make more. The war had been over for decades, yet people were always in the market for valuable artwork and priceless jewelry. He hadn’t been around when it was liquidated, so to speak, so his hands were clean. He certainly hadn’t killed anyone, yet.
Julian looked at his nails. Remind self to make an appointment for a sports manicure.
His father and his father’s contemporaries had accumulated the goods, which at the time might or might not have been misappropriated. But if his father had taught him anything, it was that money was fungible. It was neither good nor bad. Money was money, and there was hardly anyone around who remembered the war. No one to accuse the corporation. By now, goods had been sold and resold so many times the origins had grown hazy. Some of the more valuable works of art had been stored for decades, and so many years had passed, the provenances were practically nonexistent.
Case in point. He was about to deliver a Rembrandt to one of the top auction houses in Europe. The masterpiece was very much in demand. No one knew where it had come from, and no one would know how it got there. And no one wanted to know. But there was no doubt that it would fetch a fortune. And part of that fortune would go to him in the form of a hefty fee. There were warehouses full of such pieces, pieces the world believed were lost forever. Knowing when and where to let them surface was an art in itself, an art he had perfected.
It was really very easy. Oh, occasionally a relative would surface and demand restitution for a painting that had been in the family for generations. But that wasn’t his problem. His involvement was not traceable. These cases, if they went to court at all, were rarely won. Could rarely be proven. And if they happened to get a favorable ruling, the complainant was often dead before the case had been litigated.
Since his father died, he had been put in charge of Zersetzung Gruppen KG. And he had doubled the assets of the enterprise. Maybe some of his stepfather’s banking skills had rubbed off on him.
If only his mother could see him now. She thought he was a failure. And it was true, he was rudderless before he rediscovered his roots. His life had been meaningless. And that was her fault. She had never loved him. Oh, she would think the whole endeavor was corrupt, evil. But it was just business. No doubt his father had cashed in on some of her fa
mily’s possessions. And rightfully so. She was his property. She belonged to him. And then she left—stole his son and walked away. He could never forgive her for that. And he, Julian, was finally going to get revenge. He would get the diamonds from Herr Stone, who would talk, or be tortured, or watch while his new wife was tortured. Julian would have some fun with her, even if she was a Jew. His wife was beginning to bore him. And then, when he recovered the diamonds, he was going to go back to Switzerland and make his mother pay for all those wasted, lonely years.
Chapter Fourteen
Hallelujah and Alexander
Hallelujah was sorry to see the cruise come to an end. There would be one last City of Stockholm excursion, and then they would board a flight to Switzerland. It had been a relaxing week, even though Alexander must have checked his package in the safe a million times and, every time, was relieved to learn that the diamonds were still there. He’d initially been nervous, envisioning that people were after him wherever they went, but as the journey progressed, he relaxed, and he’d been a wonderful companion. Very engaging, willing to try anything, going out of his way to make her happy. He let her pick the excursions, the restaurants, everything except for the surprise steak dinner on their “wedding night.” He insisted on buying her lavish gifts at the ship’s boutiques, saying he enjoyed having someone special to spend his money on. They went dancing every night, and she felt cherished in his arms.
They hadn’t talked about what would happen after the ship docked, except she’d agreed to go to Switzerland with him to talk to Eva Grandcoeur. In fact, she was looking forward to meeting Eva. Maybe Eva’s story was the one she was looking for. But after that, she intended to go to Florence and resume the new life she’d planned for her “Get Over Lloyd” junket.
In truth, Lloyd wasn’t much on her mind anymore. Her anger toward Lloyd and her resentment of Olivia had dissipated into the ocean. There was another man who now occupied her attention. She would miss Alexander. But “All Good Things Must Come to an End.” It was just like life on her soap. People never stayed happy for long. There was always some disaster lurking around the corner. Alexander would be going back to resume his life and career in Berlin, and that was the absolute last place on earth she wanted to live. Or even visit.
She had her work, which was very fulfilling, and hopefully would have plenty of Lloyd’s money. She made enough of her own that using his money wasn’t even necessary. She could support herself. Did Lloyd even miss the Monet yet? Let him stew for a while. RaeLynn had it safely hidden away in a temperature-controlled storage locker, with strict instructions not to take any of Lloyd’s calls. And if he called her about the painting, she’d laugh it off and say she must have accidentally thrown it out. Olivia fancied herself an amateur artist. Maybe she could paint him another one. Ha, ha. She’d seen Olivia’s drawings. Not likely.
She watched Alexander as his fingers flew across the keyboard. He thought of himself as nerdy, had confided that girls found him boring. She found him fascinating. He was smart and sensitive and surprisingly normal. And more than that, she found him sexy. Very sexy. In fact, she wanted to sneak up behind him and slide her fingers lightly along his neck, massage his shoulders, and…
“Hallelujah!” he exclaimed, turning abruptly. “What are you doing?” His outburst didn’t sound like a complaint. It was more like the tone you used when you’d just won the lottery.
She was doing it again. Without realizing it, she had stepped out of her daydreams and translated her desires to action. A hazard of being a soap opera scribe and a drama queen.
He grabbed her and yanked her down onto his lap, wedging her between his body and the computer. Then he began kissing her, urgently. He filled his hands with her breasts. Suddenly, she found herself sitting on top of a giant boner. Mount Vesuvius was about to blow. And she was erupting, too…emotionally, that is.
“Alexander,” she sighed. She knew she was being naughty and giving in to her desires just to satisfy herself. Just like Polly. She never wanted him to stop kissing her and touching her. But was she leading him on? He had genuine feelings for her. But they were totally wrong for each other. Her parents would never understand. But maybe just this once…
“God,” she said, bursting with desire as Alexander began grinding himself against her crotch.
“Let’s move to the bed, where we’ll be more comfortable,” he said, lifting her and placing her gently on the mattress.
Then there was nothing gentle about it. They tore at each other. She was eager to shed her clothes, and he was eager to help her do it. He kissed her until her lips were swollen, and then first his tongue and then his mouth moistened her nipples. His teeth were taking a bite— Suddenly she was naked and so was he, and he was touching her everywhere and trying to enter her. And she was howling. Or was that a seagull?
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
“I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
And then a door buzzer sounded. “Housekeeping.”
“Go away!” Alexander shouted in every language he could think of.
And then the hordes came barreling down the hall just as the captain’s voice came over the intercom, interrupting the much anticipated eruption.
“We’re about to arrive in Stockholm.”
“Fuck Stockholm,” Alexander ranted.
Then Hallelujah made the mistake of looking up at that damn mirror.
“This is crazy,” she lamented.
“Dammit, no, it’s not,” he insisted, as they heard the key unlock the door.
Hallelujah dove under the covers just as Alexander shouted out, “Come back later. We’re on our honeymoon.”
The housekeeper looked at the two of them in bed. Alexander was naked as a jaybird, and Hallelujah looked up at the mirror, which just made it worse, because everyone knew that objects appear larger than they really are, and the housekeeper apologized and backed out of the cabin.
“Hallelujah?” he inquired, trying to locate her under the sheets.
“Go away.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “She’s gone. They’re gone. They’re all gone.” He looked down at himself. “Well, not everything is gone.”
“It’s not okay. It’s too late. This is not going to work.”
“I thought you wanted— What do you mean? This, here, now? Or us?”
Hallelujah wrapped the sheet around her body and walked into the bathroom.
“Us, this, whatever. It’s never going to work.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said, pursing her lips, tears staining her eyes. “And don’t come in after me.”
How could she explain she was crazy in love with this man she hardly knew, was dying for him to be inside of her, but it definitely was Not. Going. To. Work. For too many reasons to count.
Chapter Fifteen
Hallelujah and Alexander
AS THE PLANET SPINS SCRIPT EXTRACT
BY HALLELUJAH WEISS
SCENE 5. FLORENCE AIRPORT, PERETOLA.
POLLY: [UPBEAT] It’s great to be back in Florence.
PARKER: The place where we first fell in love. Il Duomo, the Uffizi Gallery, the Piazza della Signoria, the Ponte Vecchio, and you.
POLLY: And don’t forget the stracciatella gelato. I remember. Florence is so romantic. I hope we can recapture the love we felt for each other.
PARKER: The love I still feel for you, Pollyanna.
POLLY: How many times did you save me, Parker? There was the incident with the grizzly bear on our first honeymoon in the Canadian Rockies. And the time those Somali pirates boarded our yacht in the Mediterranean. I really thought that was the end. And the time we were kidnapped outside our hotel by those Middle Eastern terrorists.
PARKER: But you have the courage to save yourself. Remember the time you were kidnapped by those South American drug lords? I was so frantic, but you managed to untie yourself, steal their mobile phone, and dial 1-1-2.
POLLY: How could I forge
t? I’ll never know how I remembered that emergency number.
PARKER: We make a good team.
****
Hallelujah and Alexander walked into the Stockholm Airport with their bags. Hallelujah scanned the terminal.
“Alexander, look. There’s a sign with our name on it.”
“I didn’t order a driver. The plan was we were going to take a plane to Zurich directly from here, and then a train to Baden.”
“Maybe it’s part of our wedding package,” Hallelujah suggested.
“It’s not. Don’t look at him. That driver has no idea who we are. Let’s keep it that way. No one is supposed to know we’re here.”
“Do you really think we’re being followed?”
“He must have followed us from the ship. I just want to stick to the plan. Things usually work out better that way.”
Hallelujah pouted. It was actually the classic Polly pout, the pout of someone who came from a long line of non-planners. “What’s wrong with a ride in a limousine?”
Alexander turned her face away from the chauffeur. “Let’s just head for security.”
The chauffeur’s eyes fell on Alexander. He walked over and held up his poster board.
“Herr Stone. I’m here to pick up you and your lovely bride.”
Alexander stiffened. “I think there’s been some mistake.”
“Are you not the Stones?”
“I’m afraid you have the wrong couple.” Alexander grabbed Hallelujah’s hand and started running toward security.
“Grab your bags and go. Just ignore him. He’s speaking German. He’s not some Swedish driver. He’s followed us from Berlin. Follow me and get in line behind me.”
Hallelujah ran after Alexander, but someone was pulling her back. She turned around. It was the driver. She kicked him and brought her purse down on his head. He stumbled, and she kept running toward security.
“Wait,” he called. She heard footsteps. He was closing in fast.
Alexander turned around and grabbed her hand.
They passed a security guard and Hallelujah yelled, “That man behind me—he has a bomb.”
Suddenly all hell broke loose. Bomb-sniffing dogs and security officers surrounded the man with the sign and dragged him away. Guns were drawn, and people scattered and screamed. Alexander and Hallelujah continued calmly toward the security line.
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