The Aurora Conspiracies- Volume One
Page 72
Another door slam and Viktor reappeared, glistening with sweat. His look warned Mary off further discussion. He was a man on a mission. Viktor darted through the French windows and padded down the steps at the side of the terrace. What was that boxy thing he was carrying? Mary placed the book to one side and hurried after him, peering into the darkness of the courtyard beyond. As she reached the edge of the terrace and shielded her eyes from the patio lamps, all she could make out was his silhouette watching the tail lights of two large trucks heading for the gates at the property boundary.
“There you are. I wondered where you had got to.” Luca stood so close to her, she could feel his breath on her neck. She twisted her head over her shoulder. There was that false grin again; the toothy one he gave to voters and reporters.
“What’s all the commotion?”
“Ah, just a little mix up - the um…wrong tables and chairs delivered for the party. Viktor has it under control.”
“At this time of night? Seems a little late for deliveries?”
They could hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel as he made his way back to the terrace. Luca grabbed Mary by the shoulders and spun her around. “Now, where were we?” He lowered his face to hers and kissed her; a fervent, all-consuming embrace of some duration. From the second he touched her, a tiny electrical buzz tingled her lips and travelled in one long, erotic surge through her torso. By the time he released her, Viktor had re-entered the house, still carrying the device Mary had spotted earlier. She tried to identify the object, without appearing impolite to Luca’s advances, but Viktor was gone.
“Now, do you wanna fool around some more or are you gonna leave a guy hanging?” He led her gently by the hand back into the lounge.
“I thought you said I was too fragile to seduce?”
“I can work around fragile.”
Mary gave it a moment’s thought and allowed him to lead her through the guest apartment and into her bedroom. Something about this situation feels all too familiar… Do all men use sex to distract women? Another tactic to shut us up? I should say no, but he is adorable, and wow, what a buzz.
***
Mary lay awake in the dark, listening to the rhythmic wheeze of Luca’s sleep. Moonlight poured in through the open windows, illuminating the fractal scars on his body. Rather than spoil an otherwise perfect physique, it was enhanced by their existence. He was beautiful. An ethical Adonis to rival the Gods. She reflected on their compatibility. Nothing in her past experience had prepared her for such definitive pleasure. It was as though he could pre-empt her movements, exploiting territories of her body to their fullest potential while avoiding those areas that might cause discomfort or pain. Either he had mastered the craft of love making with a great many partners, or more likely, was reading her mind throughout the entire encounter. Endorphins coursed through her body, giving her a sense of tranquillity like no other. How could she sleep after such exhilaration?
Gliding out from under his arm, she groped around the room for the bathrobe from the hospital and slipped it over her naked form. Pulling the bedroom door to a close, she walked to the kitchen area and collected a bottle of water from the fridge, before leaving the guest wing. The lounge lights were still on, and she could hear Viktor barking out orders in the office at the end of the building. She presumed that he was making international telephone calls on Luca’s behalf.
The book from earlier was back on the shelf. She tried to find it again, among the thick spines of reference books. Something about the images she saw, gnawed at her subconscious. She needed to see them again, but could not explain why. Her first pass across the titles failed to find the book’s location. A second glance found it behind a series of photo frames that she had not noticed before. They depicted a little blond girl in various pursuits; bouncing tennis balls on a massive lawn, playing with a golden retriever in a Wendy house, performing on stage in a pink tutu with her classmates, and finally, in the arms of her father, Luca. Mary scooped up the frame and peered closely at the image. His look of contentment was supreme. She was his world. As she replaced the frame back on the shelves, Mary could feel a presence looming behind her.
“Ava.” Luca said, his features set like stone.
Mary evaluated his character. Sadness and fury lurked in abundance. She chose to stay silent, employing her previous successful gambit of waiting for him to elucidate. The pause went on too long. It was clearly a sore topic for him. She softened her gaze, exuding as much sympathy as she could. He stepped forwards and took the photo from her hands, his intense stare trained on his daughter’s angelic face.
“Leukaemia.”
“I am sorry.”
Luca placed the frame back on the bookshelf with careful reverence. “It’s a while ago now, but I still find it difficult to talk about.”
“That’s understandable. I cannot imagine what you must have been through.” She touched his arm, felt his muscles contract beneath her hand and quickly removed it again.
Luca turned away, folding his limbs over his bare chest. Mary thought that he was signalling an end to the conversation. That she had reached a boundary over which she should not cross. This was his grief, and his alone. To her surprise, he took a moment, swallowed and turned back towards her.
“Her mother and I broke up. The divorce was… well, it was exactly how most divorces go, I guess. Messy, protracted, not nice. She refused to move into any of the buildings which belonged to me or my family… wanted complete independence, so I agreed to buy her a place as part of the settlement. She chose a penthouse apartment, mid-town NYC. She got full custody of Ava, since I was on the campaign trail, and judges thought it was best for a little girl to be with her stay at home mom. At first, we couldn’t figure out why Ava was sick. Took her to all the top-class doctors and specialists, but she just got worse. When they diagnosed her, we were devastated.” Luca’s voice broke. He coughed, and cleared his throat, cuffing his knuckle to his nose. Mary stood still and ashen. She could feel the remorse, his anguish and suffering as though it had happened only yesterday.
“I paid for tutors to come and home school her. Her mom let me stay over during the really bad times. How were we to know that the roof of her apartment block was stacked sky high with cell phone masts.” His knees wobbled, and he sat heavily on the reading chair.
“I am so sorry.” Mary repeated, at a loss as to how to comfort him.
“Afterwards, after she had… I campaigned, but got nowhere fast. Investigators claimed that the frequencies were within acceptable parameters for human health. No matter what independent analysts reported, State departments refused to accept any responsibility. The phone companies set their own safety limits.” He tipped forwards, resting his head in his hands. “Ava just slipped away from us. How could we have known?”
She laid her hand against his shoulder. This time, she detected no impulse to push her away. Mary sensed that it was a breakthrough moment for him, for them both. Opening his inner sanctum of dark emotions was a bonding experience she had never felt with Parth. This was a completely new level of understanding. It was like they were in tune; his innate presence harmonised with hers. She stroked the hair on the back of his head.
His weakness was endearing. He looked up at her and saw the pity painted across her face. A millisecond of understanding passed between them, before his alpha male carapace concealed his vulnerability once more. The moment had passed, and with it, all her chances to read his thoughts. He smoothed his hair, brushing her hand from his head, and stood up. “Are you coming back to bed? I have a busy start in the morning.” All evidence of his former state of upset vanished. He was composed and confident in an instant. How could he switch emotions so swiftly?
“I’ll join you in a bit. I’m having trouble adjusting to all these time jumps.”
He started walking towards the guest wing, and then stopped. “Hey, I don’t suppose you want to come with me to DC in a few days, do you? You’ll need to shop for some warmer cl
othes… I can give you my credit card and a set of car keys…” He waited for her answer, and when there was no response, he continued; “Decide in the morning. No pressure. What were you looking for when I came in?”
“Oh, there is a photography book about Russia…”
“You’d rather look at pictures than come to bed with me? You wound me, Mary.” He held out his hand to her and smirked. She couldn’t help herself. It provoked a giggle. He knew just how to play her. But then, why resist such an offer? She could always have a proper snoop in the morning. Why waste the chance to relive those exquisite sensations? Another round of endorphin release would dampen the residual soreness of the bullet site. Mary approached Luca and glanced down at his jockey shorts. His intentions were more than obvious.
“Come on then, old man. Try and keep up this time…” She slipped a finger beneath the elastic of his waistband and tugged it towards her, leading him back to her guest apartment and the king-sized bed.
“Less of the old. Are all you British women so domineering?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mary awoke to an empty bed. Luca had risen early. Donning her bathrobe, she went in search of him. The table on the terrace was laid once more, but this time for breakfast. There were American-style pancakes, jugs of maple syrup, burned streaky bacon, cereals, steaming hot pots of coffee and a large pot of tea. She sat down opposite him and watched the muscles in his jaw undulate as he chewed his muesli.
“Morning.” She made a grab for the teapot, drawing it close like a long-lost friend, before searching out the milk jug.
He looked up from a tablet PC balancing on the edge of the table. “Did you sleep okay?” He shovelled another spoonful into his mouth, chomping down on the seeds and dried fruits with vigour.
“Not too badly, thanks. What’s so engrossing?” The amber brew gushed out into her teacup, leaving bubbles at the surface. Without waiting for it to cool, Mary drank several gulps down.
“We are.” He said, pausing to deliver that playful grin.
“What?”
“Well, I am at any rate. You are the blurry date of the most eligible divorcee in California, apparently.” He put his spoon down and lifted the tablet up to show her. The headline for the tabloid article read; Is Senator Bonovich Officially Off The Market? He plonked it down and thumbed through the commentary beneath the images.
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it? Publicity is good. Great in fact. The lightning strike followed by the charity heist has me hitting international headlines. I can’t put a foot wrong.”
“I wouldn’t count your chickens just yet, senator. What if they work out it is me? British heretic and general hater of all things Christian…”
“Then I would probably get an invitation to appear on Jerry Springer. It’s all good.”
“Not if I get arrested it’s not. Speaking of arrests, is there any news from your contacts about the Summerfield Retreat? Has Alexi been detained yet? Have they recovered the nuclear materials?”
“Whoa! Hold your horses. One step at a time. They have to collect the intelligence first. You can’t just go barging in on private property without the warrants, and warrants require proof.”
“Sorry, but you did stress to them how dangerous Alexi can be, didn’t you? He must surely be on some kind of CIA watch list.”
One of his eyebrows kinked. He stopped chewing and swallowed. “Mary, let me do my job. You need to get some clothes if you are going to come with me to DC. You’ll need a dress for the party too.”
Mary knew she had pushed him too far. Ordinarily, she would have argued the point about attending a party in which she could easily be recognised, but she chose to let the matter drop. Leaning across the white linen clad table, she took two slices of toast from a rack and covered them with butter and marmalade. They ate in silence until Luca took his napkin from his lap and laid it across his plate. Standing up, he slid a set of car keys from his trouser pocket and handed them to Mary.
“I take it you can drive?”
She nodded. From his back pocket, he produced a credit card and a business card with his own and Viktor's contact details listed.
“If you have any troubles with the retailers, get them to call Viktor.” Luca held out the cards.
“What if they ask for ID? I’d be screwed. If only you had let me go back to The Plaza in New York, I had plenty of cash I could have used.” She did not take the card from him.
They stared each other down, until Luca heaved an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You want cash, I’ll get you cash.” He stomped off inside the house, and disappeared into his study. Mary trotted after him, but the stiff door hinges slammed it shut as she approached. She had just enough time to see Luca crouching at a safe beneath a side cabinet, before the keypad lock activated, locking him inside. Mary stood in the corridor, awaiting his return and another chance to catch a glimpse inside his mysterious room.
“Here.” Luca thrust of roll of notes into her hand.
“That’s far too much.”
“You need clothes. Clothes cost money. There is about ten K there.” He dangled the car keys in front of her.
She didn’t want to make him angry. Mary took the keys from him and turned around, ready to go.
“It’s the blue car in the courtyard, you should be able to find it. And get a nice cocktail dress while you’re there.”
Mary wandered through the lounge room holding the bank notes in one hand and car keys in the other. She heard the door of his study slam shut as he returned inside. What’s got to him all of a sudden? I don’t know why people think that women are temperamental. They should try State Senators. She paused on the terrace, contemplating her next move. Ten thousand dollars would be more than enough to start somewhere new. She could drive off to a train terminal and phone Viktor to collect the car. With cash to tide her over, she could slip into one of the central American countries and lay low until her name was cleared. The more she thought about it, the more she hated herself. I am quite possibly the most selfish person that ever lived. My friends and complete strangers have bailed me out again and again. They have given me money, paid for surgeries, put me up in luxury, and what have I done in return? Run away from them. I don’t want to be like this. I promised Lachie and Oona that I would find a way to help them. Luca is my best chance of achieving that. I need to stay.
At the top of the terrace steps, she spotted the blue vehicle, and laughed. She had convinced herself that all Americans were addicted to their gas guzzling, muscle machines. Instead, she found a hybrid electric Smart Car, its leather seats warming in the morning sun. How on earth am I going to fit any shopping in that? She scurried to the open topped car and got in. The driver’s seat was a perfect fit for her small form. A quick adjustment of the mirrors and she was away.
As she passed the ranch gates, at the entrance to the drive, she was aware of a glinting light in her peripheral vision. Shit! That bloody reporter is still lurking. Putting her foot to the floor, she caned the tiny engine down the street to the junction with Napa Road. A quick glance in her rear-view mirror confirmed her suspicions; the reporter was following her in a dark coloured jeep.
Mary tapped the destination into the touchscreen navigation system and floored the accelerator. It may be small, but it’s nippy. I’ll lose him when I get to the town. The jeep stayed at a respectable distance from her along Highway Twelve, as she cruised past vineyards, wineries, ranches and smokehouses. The first cluster of large buildings she came to was signposted as an exclusive spa resort. It was rapidly followed by a similar advertisement for luxury kennels. This really is a celebrity haven. There are more places to pamper yourself than to buy food. The Highway rounded a curve at the base of the valley, running parallel with the Napa River. Following the signposts, Mary took the exit ramp and overpass taking a convoluted route through a maze of streets to lose the jeep behind her.
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In the retail parking lot, Mary found a tiny space flanked by huge cars all around and squeezed the Smart Car into position within the white lines. With a quick look in all directions, she felt content to leave the safety of the car and hurry into the shopping precinct.
What is he expecting me to buy with ten thousand dollars, diamond encrusted knickers? Mary by-passed the elite shops which carried all the most expensive labels and cut a diagonal path to the high street stores. A pair of standard trainers, or sneakers as the assistant called them, in the sports shop and she was kitted out for a whirlwind shopping spree before lunch.
She began with the casual wear. Three pairs of jeans, a selection of plain t-shirts and a half dozen pairs of socks. Next, was a small boutique for the obligatory little black dress. Mary winced at the cost. She caught one of the assistants sniggering behind her back as Mary tried on the gown. She looked down at her feet. Her bare feet in black trainers did look comical, but Mary sensed that she was laughing at her frizzy halo of unkempt hair. It seems that dashing about a retail park in the heat of a late Californian summer, induced a kind of mania with her locks. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Dear God, I am a mess.
Leaving the change booth, Mary paid for the dress and asked the girl on the tills where the nearest salon was located. She made a detour back to the car to deposit the shopping and returned as a walk-in customer, waving crisp dollar bills at the receptionist. That seemed to get their immediate attention. Roughly ninety minutes later, Mary emerged with sleek clipped hair, painted nails and the lingering after burn of a full wax. She was just on her way to purchase lingerie and a decent trouser suit, when she heard an echoing voice inside her head. Stopping outside a diner, she tucked herself close to the shop windows and plugged her ears with her fingers against the traffic noise.