The Love Killers by Jackie Collins

tiger!’
    Lara looked at him intently to see if he was putting her on, but he didn’t appear to be. He was watching April on the dance floor, a proud smile on his face.
    â€˜You and Sammy must be about the same age,’ she remarked.
    He knew what she was getting at. ‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘Who cares about age? You know something? April’s got more energy in her little finger than I have in my whole body.’
    April this, and April that. Nick Bassalino was not going to be quite as easy to crack as she’d imagined. She was used to men falling about—married, single, it made no difference. One of Lara’s famous quotes—printed all over the world—was ‘Most men are easy lays.’ She had always found that if there was a man she wanted, he was to be had.
    Not that there had been that many. There was the count; he had lasted two years. Then the film star, only a few short months. After him the German prince, a year. And then the English lord, a mere eighteen months. The Greek shipowner had lasted nearly a year. And finally Prince Alfredo Masserini. She had thought that perhaps Alfredo was the right one. He had the film star’s looks, the Greek shipowner’s money, the English lord’s youth, and the count’s charm. But in spite of it all he’d turned out to be a self-centered egoist. Like me, she thought, with a short, brittle laugh.
    â€˜What are you laughing at?’ Nick asked curiously, trying to keep his eyes off her cleavage.
    â€˜Nothing that would amuse you.’ She shook her head in a languid, sexual fashion so that her long, thick hair swirled forward.
    He glanced at her quickly. This woman was incredibly beautiful. But what was beauty in a town like Hollywood? So many girls, so many different shades of sexy, pretty, and gorgeous. So many different shapes and sizes. Something to appeal to everyone. In Hollywood beauty was a commodity, a close relation of the hard sell.
    April Crawford was something else. April was class, and distinction, and acceptance. April was a ticket to ride up there among all the movie idols he’d worshiped since he was a little kid.
    Oh, no, he wasn’t going to blow April out for a quick dip in this one’s honey pot. April was a jealous lady, sharp, and full of pride. If she ever caught him straying, the shit would really hit in no uncertain fashion.
    â€˜I hope you’re coming to the party Jeanette and Les are throwing for me tomorrow night,’ Lara said casually.
    â€˜April makes all our social arrangements. If she knows about it, we’ll be there. My lady hates missing a party.’
    Lara smiled and widened her eyes. ‘Great,’ she murmured.
    What a schmuck this guy was—he was going to be easy.

CHAPTER NINE
    Frank Bassalino was Enzio’s oldest son, and Enzio depended more on him than on the others, for when he had opted for semiretirement it was Frank who took over some of his more important business enterprises.
    â€˜One day,’ Enzio was proud of saying, ‘Frank is going to be The Man. One day not so far off.’
    Frank got along well with Enzio’s older business associates. They were difficult men, quick to criticize, but he was managing to create a connection.
    In some ways Frank was stronger than Enzio. Born and brought up in one of the tougher districts of New York, he’d always had to fight for what he wanted, in spite of his father’s position.
    Frank was not a man to cross. Thirty-six years old, he had worked for Enzio since he was sixteen and seen all aspects of his business. He had been involved in protection, prostitutes, dope, the numbers racket. Once he had enjoyed being the hit man, but Enzio didn’t approve. It was too risky and dangerous.
    In his time Frank had been a womanizer in the true Bassalino tradition, going through an incredible number of females—used and thrown away like so many old Kleenex. Until,