headed down the corridor to the curved stairs that led to the ground floor, he heard his Royal Highness.
“What about my shot?” he shouted. “Where’s my shot?”
“Nicky said to tell you that he’s very pleased,” X told Gavin three weeks later. Subsisting on Gavin’s shots and beef bouillon, Sadun had lost thirty-five pounds. “He’s particularly pleased with Sadun’s mental attitude—”
“As he loses more weight, he’ll improve even more,” said Gavin.
“He’s becoming a different man—”
“He’s improving in spite of Rudy Sarvo,” Gavin said. “He smuggles pastry in to Sadun.”
“I’ve told Nicky you’ve had trouble with Rudy—”
“It would be better for Sadun if Rudy weren’t around—”
“The less you interfere with Rudy Sarvo, the safer you’ll be,” warned X. “Things are not necessarily what they seem.”
13
Gail de Córdoba ran her fingers through the thick platinum hair of the man in bed next to her and felt a wave of excitement surge through her. She was lying naked next to the richest man in the world, but at the moment it was not Nicholas Kiskalesi’s bankroll but his body that was filling her with ecstasy.
“I’ve never been so happy in my life,” Gail murmured.
“Nor I,” Nicky replied. He reached over and caressed her breasts.
“Did you ever think sex could be this exciting?” Gail asked.
Nicky’s teeth flashed the smile that charmed almost everyone. “There’s never been anyone like you,” he said.
He was telling a half-truth. He had enjoyed the weeks aboard
Lydia
with Gail and this morning had been especially memorable. But the truth was that thrill of wild sex was wearing off. Gail was beautiful and charming, but he grew weary of her incessant gossip and chatter about clothes and jewelry.
“Where are we going next?” Gail asked. They were anchored off the Turkish port of Marmaris.
“I wish our cruise could go on forever,” he said, stroking her hair. “But it’s time for business—”
“You mean our cruise is over?” His tone was matter-of-fact but Nicky’s decision had come without warning and Gail swallowed back tears.
“Not over,” soothed Nicky. “Just an intermission. There’s a plane waiting to take you anywhere your heart desires—”
“My heart desires to stay here,” Gail said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. “With you—”
“This isn’t the end of something,” Nicky assured her with a caress. “It’s the beginning—”
Gail forced a smile.
“You’re very important to me,” Nicky said.
“More important than Adriana?”
Nicky replied with a kiss.
Adriana Partos’s lush russet-colored hair was pulled into a tight
chignon
that revealed her bold profile. She was a tall, large-boned woman whose bearing commanded notice and respect. Her skin was chalk white, her eyes an intense emerald green but her real beauty came from her high cheek bones and broad, intelligent forehead.
“I’m glad we’re together again,” Nicky said, embracing her warmly a few hours later as she boarded
Lydia
.
“You’re glad because you got your way,” Adriana said, correcting him. “It’s official. I’ve informed everyone — my agent, my business manager, my public. Adriana Partos has retired. Never again will I play in public—”
Nicky took her strong hands in his, lifted them to his lips, and kissed the fingers, one at a time. Her hands were large for a woman’s, capable of reaching an octave and a half, with unpolished nails kept short, the habit of a lifetime of practice and concert performance. It was so strange, Nicky thought, that they should end up together — the son of a Turkish peasant with a gift for money and the only daughter of a Hungarian poet with a gift for music.
“Thank you, Adriana,” said Nicky. “I’m glad to have you all to myself at last—”
They’d been quarreling over her retirement for several years. Nicky wanted a full-time companion and had threatened
“What about my shot?” he shouted. “Where’s my shot?”
“Nicky said to tell you that he’s very pleased,” X told Gavin three weeks later. Subsisting on Gavin’s shots and beef bouillon, Sadun had lost thirty-five pounds. “He’s particularly pleased with Sadun’s mental attitude—”
“As he loses more weight, he’ll improve even more,” said Gavin.
“He’s becoming a different man—”
“He’s improving in spite of Rudy Sarvo,” Gavin said. “He smuggles pastry in to Sadun.”
“I’ve told Nicky you’ve had trouble with Rudy—”
“It would be better for Sadun if Rudy weren’t around—”
“The less you interfere with Rudy Sarvo, the safer you’ll be,” warned X. “Things are not necessarily what they seem.”
13
Gail de Córdoba ran her fingers through the thick platinum hair of the man in bed next to her and felt a wave of excitement surge through her. She was lying naked next to the richest man in the world, but at the moment it was not Nicholas Kiskalesi’s bankroll but his body that was filling her with ecstasy.
“I’ve never been so happy in my life,” Gail murmured.
“Nor I,” Nicky replied. He reached over and caressed her breasts.
“Did you ever think sex could be this exciting?” Gail asked.
Nicky’s teeth flashed the smile that charmed almost everyone. “There’s never been anyone like you,” he said.
He was telling a half-truth. He had enjoyed the weeks aboard
Lydia
with Gail and this morning had been especially memorable. But the truth was that thrill of wild sex was wearing off. Gail was beautiful and charming, but he grew weary of her incessant gossip and chatter about clothes and jewelry.
“Where are we going next?” Gail asked. They were anchored off the Turkish port of Marmaris.
“I wish our cruise could go on forever,” he said, stroking her hair. “But it’s time for business—”
“You mean our cruise is over?” His tone was matter-of-fact but Nicky’s decision had come without warning and Gail swallowed back tears.
“Not over,” soothed Nicky. “Just an intermission. There’s a plane waiting to take you anywhere your heart desires—”
“My heart desires to stay here,” Gail said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. “With you—”
“This isn’t the end of something,” Nicky assured her with a caress. “It’s the beginning—”
Gail forced a smile.
“You’re very important to me,” Nicky said.
“More important than Adriana?”
Nicky replied with a kiss.
Adriana Partos’s lush russet-colored hair was pulled into a tight
chignon
that revealed her bold profile. She was a tall, large-boned woman whose bearing commanded notice and respect. Her skin was chalk white, her eyes an intense emerald green but her real beauty came from her high cheek bones and broad, intelligent forehead.
“I’m glad we’re together again,” Nicky said, embracing her warmly a few hours later as she boarded
Lydia
.
“You’re glad because you got your way,” Adriana said, correcting him. “It’s official. I’ve informed everyone — my agent, my business manager, my public. Adriana Partos has retired. Never again will I play in public—”
Nicky took her strong hands in his, lifted them to his lips, and kissed the fingers, one at a time. Her hands were large for a woman’s, capable of reaching an octave and a half, with unpolished nails kept short, the habit of a lifetime of practice and concert performance. It was so strange, Nicky thought, that they should end up together — the son of a Turkish peasant with a gift for money and the only daughter of a Hungarian poet with a gift for music.
“Thank you, Adriana,” said Nicky. “I’m glad to have you all to myself at last—”
They’d been quarreling over her retirement for several years. Nicky wanted a full-time companion and had threatened
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