Manacled in Monaco (19 page)

Rizzo shook him awake.

“Rolan, wake up. Sarita’s temperature is over one oh four -- we need to run her to the hospital.”

“Jesus.” He raced down the hallway and burst into the cabin. Sarita’s limp form lay on the mattress. “Dampen a couple of towels and grab my bathrobe.”

“Done.” Rizzo disappeared and came back with the requested items. “You want me to check on Tony?”

“Please. I’m so sorry to do this, Sarita honey,” he muttered, his fists clenching and un-clenching. Rolan lifted the T-shirt and placed the cold moist towels around her body, then wrapped her up in his thick navy bathrobe.

He carried her to the car.

Jimmy drove to the hospital and remained in the near empty emergency room while they were admitted. The lone doctor on duty chased Rolan back to the waiting area and both men paced in silence. Time crept by, and although Rolan ordered Rizzo home about every thirty minutes, the young athlete refused to leave.

One of the many Catholic churches dotting Monte Carlo’s inner city heralded each hour with echoing bells. A hint of the sun’s rays streamed over the horizon lifting the night’s darkness. The same cathedral bell rang seven times. On the last ring, the swinging doors fronting the entrance to the hospital’s innards banged open and a white-coated goateed doctor strode through them.

“Mr. Paxton,” he said. “Your wife is conscious and she wants to see you.”

“Jesus.” A dumb smile curled his lips. “Heard that Jimmy? Sarita’s awake.”

“That’s great news, Rolan.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Hey man, wipe your face before you see her.”

Shock forced a snort-chortle out of his mouth, he shot Jimmy a rueful look, and swiped at the moisture on his cheeks. “Same for you, Jimmy. Same for you.”

Rizzo shedding tears for his wife.

He sighed and any remnants of hostility between them vanished. Great, now he and his rival had bonded. His feet flew across the terrazzo tiles while he listened to the doctor’s assessment of her condition.

Sarita had an IV hooked up to her right forearm, which made his heart pump faster. Amber eyes, though a little reddened, met his straight and clear, and his pulse settled a tad.

“How’s Tony?” The sound of her hoarse voice compressed his chest. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Her cheeks pinkened, and he closed his eyes and offered a small thank you to the heavens above.

“Jesus, Sarita honey.” He ate up the distance to her bed and smothered her left hand with both of his, kissing her fingertips and rubbing her small palm. Her skin felt warmer than it should be, but not as hot as before. “You’re alive, that’s all I care about. When that fever wouldn’t go down I was so scared.”

“Tony?”

“He’s fine. His spots are fading and he’s such a shark, he’s using being sick to worm bacon cheeseburgers out of Jimmy. Doesn’t take much though, since Rizzo’s a sucker for the kid. He gave him two burgers for lunch.”

Her mouth lifted. “He’s got your charm.”

“They want to keep you overnight. In a few minutes, they’re going to transfer you to a private room. I’m staying with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be all right.” She cupped a hand over a wide yawn. “The stuff they gave me for the itching and the fever will make me sleep all night anyway.” Her lashes fluttered, and then shut, and within seconds her breathing had a regular rhythm.

And he grinned like a jester and stared at his precious wife until they forced him out of the room. He’d forgotten completely about Jimmy and it was only when he heard the young athlete’s deep guffaw that he made his way to the hospital’s entrance.

“Paxton, how’s the wife?” Rizzo had one palm propped on a wall adjacent to the long tresses of a mahogany-haired nurse who batted her eyelashes at him.

“Well on her way to good health. They’re going to release her in the morning. I’ll take a cab home. Here,” he said and threw the SUV’s keys to him.

Rizzo leaned forward and snatched them out of the air.

“Good arm, Jimmy. Almost as good as mine.”

“I’m a newer model Paxton. Always an improvement.”

The doctors conferred the next morning and decided to keep her one more night. He didn’t see much of her that day as she slept most of the time. When not sleeping, the nurses took her for tests or submerged her in a bath designed to dry up the blisters. By late afternoon her fever had broken.

Rolan spent the second night with her and she slept past noon. He hadn’t the heart to wake her.

Weak and tired, but pumped with painkillers, she announced her intention of cooking dinner on the way home. Since she dozed most of the journey, Rolan phoned Suresh and asked him to ensure the hotel continued to cater all their meals for the next ten days.

After ensuring Tony had all ten fingers and toes, she laid her head on the pillow and slipped into a peaceful slumber. Reluctant to let her out of his sight, Rolan crept onto the mattress and watched her chest rise and fall, until his eyelids became too heavy to lift.

Sarita woke him up around ten the following morning by tickling his rib cage. Or so she thought. Attuned to the regular sound of her breathing, he’d been awake the moment she had. The sight of her clear eyes and that sweet face had teared him up. He’d slotted his eyelids until he regained control of his mushy emotions.

He enjoyed the way she studied him, the tender way she touched his chest and then checked to see if he’d awakened. When he opened his eyes finally, she tapped his shoulder.

“You’ve been awake all along. Not fair.”

“How’re you feeling?” He outlined her lower lip with one finger. “Your spots are fading. The Doctor said that the drugs and the baths they gave you will help dry them up faster.”

“I vaguely remember seeing Tony last night. He really is all right?”

“He’s fine, Sarita, don’t worry. Bounced back like a penny on a sheeted army cot. Now, you’re going to take it easy for the next two weeks. And before you say a word, you are not raising a finger to do anything else but eat and relax for the rest of the week, got that, Mrs. Paxton?”

“Well, I can’t go out in public until these bumps are gone and I’m not sure how infectious it is for me to cook. I guess you win this time. How is Geoff?”

“He’s better now, but he had a tough time. His blisters became infected, and his fever lasted longer than yours or Tony’s or Harry’s.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah, Harry came down with it the night of the dinner. His stepmother arrived unexpectedly and he had dinner with her at the Grill Room. He stayed the night and good old Le Paris kicked him out pronto the following morning. He came back to the Glory, and Suresh and Austen handled him and Geoff.”

“And the others?”

“Suresh turned the entertainment area into his office. That man works fourteen-hour days. He and Shannon have negotiated a deal and the contract signing is tomorrow.” He twirled a lock of her hair around one finger. “But, that look on your face tells me you’re worried about something. Tell me.”

“How long are your exes staying? After the quarantine period’s over?”

“Okay,” he said and rose on his forearms. “You’re going to find out about this anyway, so you may as well hear it from me. Cindy-something is Geoff’s hookup buddy.”

She sat up, shoulders squared, eyebrows slashing together. “But, that morning we met again?”

“You know Brianna was my hookup buddy and we weren’t exclusive. Cindy-something is Geoff’s and they have the same arrangement. She happened to be at the casino that night. It was just sex, nothing else.”

“This is a perfect example of why we’re not going to work. If you think I’m going to allow this to happen, or participate, or let Tony see you being unfaithful --”

He stopped her tirade with two firm fingers on her mouth. “Stop, let me finish. I can’t change my past, Sarita, but I can control my actions in the future. For a long time now I’ve been dissatisfied with my lifestyle. And you are never to refer to what I’m going to tell you again. That morning when you interrupted us, just hearing your knock on the door made me soft. And I didn’t even know it was you.”

“What are you telling me?” She snagged a pillow and hugged it to her chest.

“Read my lips, I was bored with casual sex and having problems getting it up.”

“You! Uh-uh, not in this lifetime. You forget I’ve seen you in action. You get aroused like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“That’s just it. I don’t have any problems with you. The other day, I caught Cindy-something in my room, naked, getting it off with a dildo, and all I could think about was how to get her out of there without upsetting you.”

Her eyes grew wide and she nibbled on one finger, clinging to the downy cushion in her other hand.

“Harry came in right after I opened the door and found her. You can ask him what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“I wanted to chuck her in the hallway as is, but Harry wrapped a blanket around her, and took her and her toy away.”

“I will ask him, you know.”

“I don’t want anyone else, Sarita honey, just you.”

She studied him for a long minute and then shuddered. “Ugh, she was in this bed? Doing that? I want you to change the sheets, right now.” She winced and edged forward.

“I changed the sheets myself, told Harry to wash them in boiling water, and then give them to the Red Cross. And I showered twice and sprayed the room with a can of Lysol.”

Her lips twitched and she cupped a hand over her mouth, and then burst into loud laughter. Sarita’s eyes met his and the sparkle in them had his toes uncurling.

“What’s so funny?”

“I cannot picture you Lysoling a room. I don’t have to ask Harry, Rolan. I believe you. There’s no way you could have made that up. Not you.”

“I’m not sure, but I think I’ve been insulted.”

When Rolan saw her mouth pursing, he knew he wasn’t in the clear yet.

“Spit it out.”

“All these women throwing themselves at you and the baby oil parties, I don’t know if you can resist temptation.”

“I was young, rich, famous, and worse, curious. And I had the world by the balls. I could have anything I wanted, literally. That goes to your head, but it becomes the same old, same old after a while.”

“Some people seem to become addicted to the lifestyle.”

“Not me. That morning we reconnected, I had exactly that thought about Cindy-something, same old, same old. That was then and this is now. I always expected to settle down and I’ve always expected to be a role model. I intend to be faithful to our vows. You, me, Tony, and another kid, if we’re lucky. No other women and if any man touches you, he’s dead meat.”

“I think it might take some time for me to believe the no other women part.”

“And I understand my reputation precedes me, so take all the time you need. Promise me you’ll come to me if you have any doubts?”

“I’ll try and that’s the best I can manage.” The pillow fell to the mattress and she climbed off the bed. “I need to shower and wash my hair, then I want to see Tony, and I think I’m hungry.”

“While you do that, I’ll check the status of our guests and our son.”

Rolan studied her swaying cheeks until she closed the bathroom door. More than ever now, he needed to destroy that tape. He headed straight to Rizzo’s cabin and knocked on the door.

“Hey. How’s the wife?” Rizzo said as he opened the door wide. “Must be better if you’ve left her alone.”

“Yeah. Not well, but alert enough to complain, which I’m happy about, don’t get me wrong.”

“Want me for something?”

“Actually, I wanted to get that tape Shannon had the night of that dinner.”

“Sure, come on in. I put it with my DVDs.” Rizzo strode over to a built-in wall unit, but halted before he got close. “It’s not there.”

Rolan’s stomach took a kamikaze dive.

“What do you mean?”

“I put it right here on the third shelf.”

“Maybe you moved it?”

“I can tell you where everything’s located in this room blindfolded. I never moved the fricking thing.”

Surveying the room, Rolan couldn’t stifle a groan. Rizzo was a neat freak, and the few possessions he’d brought aboard the
Glory
were either perfectly aligned, or placed at an exact forty-five degree alignment. In his meager experience, only women could get magazines to look like a decorator had done it.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Rizzo raked him and his sable eyes narrowed, but he waved one hand in a wide arc and replied, “Feel free. Harry and I are having a whiskey and a stogie on the balcony. You’re welcome to join us.”

He waited until Rizzo left the room and then searched the cabin, the head, even the damned medicine cabinet. Nada.

Shannon.

Jesus.

If she carried through with her threat and put the tape on the Net, a shudder went though him at the thought. He had too much to lose to fumble this.

Chapter Fourteen

Except for his wife finding out she wasn’t pregnant two days after their return to the
Glory
, the following weeks turned out to be precipitous torture. Too busy catering to Tony and Sarita, Rolan couldn’t search for the tape. Not only that, but his stubborn wife moved out of their cabin and refused to sleep with him until her blisters dried up.

On day four of their initial incubation, Shannon woke up to fever and two blisters. Her shrieks, not to mention the creative use of expletives, woke the ship. This reset the confinement period to day one. Shannon promptly hired a private nurse and both women went into seclusion.

That same day, she sent him an email, the contents of which he was tempted to forward to Homeland Security with one or two word substitutions. He saved it just in case. Certain Shannon had the tape in her cabin, Rolan resorted to planning alternative strategies to steal it from her.

By day five of the new incubation period, at Rolan’s insistence, the three Paxtons ate their meals together. He spent most mornings with his son and they discovered a mutual love for Ping-Pong and video games. They played table tennis until physically pooped, and then settled into online
Halo
or
Madden
. At noon, he and Tony laid the table and set out the catered lunch from the hotel.

The virus had taken more out of Sarita than she’d admit. Most days she slept until nearly eleven, had lunch with them, and then the three of them played board games until around four. By mutual agreement, the other guests had roam of the ship for most of the day, but those quarantined owned the outside decks from fourish to an hour after dusk.

During the day, Geoff and Harry hermited themselves in their cabins. Around four, everyone met on the deck, and Rizzo and Suresh joined them. Much to his annoyance, Rizzo assumed they had become bosom buddies and wouldn’t allow him to back down from their initial bonding during Sarita’s illness.

This peaceful pattern repeated undisturbed through days six and seven.

On day eight, he could no longer control his sexual urges and resorted to jerking off in his morning shower. Wrong move it proved as he took another shower at two and another at eight. His wife began to get her glow back that day. Instead of the regular sweats and the loose T-shirt she had worn since becoming sick, she’d dressed in those beloved black jeans and a fitted T-shirt.

When Sarita surprised them in the entertainment room on day nine, Rolan’s faltering control over his libido went up in flames. She sashayed through the doorway in a short tight denim skirt belted at the waist with a slash of scarlet and a pale pink tank top showing mouth-watering cleavage. The diamond pendant dangled lovingly between her breasts hitting the mounded tops with every step.

The Ping-Pong ball bulleted into his right cheek and he never noticed. Then he caught a glimpse of her brown stilettos. His prick rioted and danced with glee, precum already leaking against his belly, and he couldn’t move.

Her mouth curved into that perfect smile and she said, her voice husky, “Good morning. How are my men today?”

“Hi, Mom.” Tony cut to her and muttered, “We’re in the middle of a game. My serve. Throw me the ball, Dad.”

Their eyes fastened, meshed, and a promise hung suspended in free fall.

He lost the round, three games to zero, and Tony crowed.

Lunch proved absolute torment. He read sex into every comment she made. As if he plucked petals off a daisy, opening salvo, she’s ready -- exhilaration, second remark, she’s not -- Jesus, no, and so it went for the rest of the day.

At nine, she yawned and cupped a hand over her mouth, and he wanted to dash it away and thrust his tongue inside.

“I’m for bed,” she said.

“Don’t forget, Mom, you have to correct my Internet homework. It’s the last one, and you remember your promise.”

She shot Rolan one of those what-can-you-do glances, luscious mouth pursed, eyebrows lifting.

Tony walked her to her cabin.

Even though he jerked off before going to bed, Rolan still couldn’t sleep, so he headed down to the kitchen. A low murmured conversation caught his attention and he recognized Shannon’s drawl. He pinpointed the little tête-à-tête as coming from the media room, and the temptation to eavesdrop proved irresistible.

He grabbed a snack, made his way back to the master, and ate and watched a movie. At two in the morning, wearing only jeans and socks, he slipped through the corridor and up the stairs to the media room. The door stood open and the area was empty. With one last crosscheck to ensure no one saw him, he slipped inside and shut the door.

Terry’s military training had taught him to be paranoid. He had hired ex-MI5 experts for the
Glory
media room setup, which included Internet and computer access. The footsteps of every guest using any piece of equipment in the room were recorded and logged, including all chats and comments.

Within seconds, Rolan discovered Shannon had used Skype, for both a phone call and a chat. It took him forty-five minutes to uncover all of her actions, contacts, chats, and emails. Then he listened to a recording of the actual phone call. He double-checked everything, and by the time he switched off the lights, knew exactly what he had to do.

This time when he slipped into bed, slumber came within minutes.

Dawn came early on day ten and Rolan hopped out of bed energized, battle ready. After showering and dressing, he set out to put his strategy into place. In quick order, he assembled his team in the media room.

“What’s up, boyo?” Terry asked.

“I want you all to listen to something.”

He pressed the play button and Shannon’s sultry drawl filled the media room. The ten-minute conversation Tasered everyone speechless.

“Shit’s hit the fan,” Geoff said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet. Here’s a copy of her chat and an email. Take your time reading them.”

“Just what’s on this tape Rolan?” Geoff asked.

“Nothing I could get arrested for in most states,” Rolan answered. “Read.”

Silence reigned.

“You’re smiling boyo, so you must have a plan.”

“Oh yeah, and I need both your help.”

“I’m on,” Terry said.

“Do you have to ask?” Geoff quipped.

“Okay.” Rolan grinned and rubbed his palms together. “Let’s get that bitch.”

After he outlined his strategy, they discussed everything and came up with a couple of minor changes, one of which Roland found problematic. “I don’t want Rizzo involved.”

“You haven’t seen him in action, boyo. Don’t let that Italian Stallion exterior fool you. I’ve seen what he can do and if the bitch has a copy of the tape, this is a fallback position.”

“And she will have a copy, Rolan,” Geoff stated. “No competent blackmailer operates without at least one.”

“Okay, okay, I surrender.”

“I’ll get him and we can go through the revised plan,” Geoff offered.

While he and Terry waited for the two men, they made one more revision to the plan. Geoff returned with Rizzo in tow less than five minutes later.

After cutting around the room, Rizzo tapped his dimple with one finger. “You guys are up to something.”

“Here’s the deal. I need your help and your silence. I’ll give you a postdated letter of resignation for halfway through the season. You name the date. In return you sign a nondisclosure agreement and consent to help me with a certain matter.”

“And I’m not privy as to the nature of the matter?”

“No. It’s a blind signing.”

“Can I get arrested for whatever I’m supposed to do?”

“No. Not a chance.”

“Done.”

“Just like that?” Rolan knew the surprise showed on his face.

“Yep. Now tell me the down and dirty.”

During their conversation, Geoff had been composing said agreement on the PC, and he promptly printed the document. Rizzo signed it, and Geoff and Terry wrote their John Henry’s on the witness lines.

Terry took the lead in outlining their plan.

Rolan kept a close eye on Rizzo, but his expression remained neutral throughout the whole thing. At the conclusion, he merely requested a copy of the NDA.

The meeting broke up and the men went their separate ways.

Sarita wasn’t in her bedroom, Rolan discovered, and Tony wasn’t either. He had left his son a note saying he'd be tied up most of the morning and figured the boy would be in the entertainment area. When he arrived in the doorway of the room, Rolan found Tony hunched over the Xbox, fingers flying over the game controls.

“Where’s your mom?”

Without glancing up he replied, “Galley.”

She sat on a bar stool, one leg swinging an absentminded figure eight, feet encased in those chocolate stilettos. His greedy prick preened, scraping against his new khaki pants. He curled one corner of his mouth and glanced at the small wet spot on the material. Going commando today may not have been the wisest of decisions.

One cap sleeve slipped off her shoulder and he couldn’t resist nipping the curve there.

Sarita yelped, whipped around, and bashed his nose with her knuckles. Rolan stumbled and grabbed the corner of the table.

Hand clasped to her chest, she said, “You scared the daylights out of me Rolan. Don’t do that again. But, I’m glad you’re here. Look at this.”

One long finger pointed at a newspaper headline and Rolan groaned.

“Secret wife, secret son, secret wedding, we have all the gory details,” read the bold, black print. Next to that was another front page screaming, “Their First Fight! Is the honeymoon over before it even began?”

“Where did you get these?”

“Someone slipped them under my door this morning. I managed to hide everything from Tony. You live with this daily, don’t you?” She shook her head. “What kind of childhood will my son have? I never even thought about this aspect of marrying you. All my life I’ve lived in the shadows. Today I realized I like them.”

Sheer will power kept him from shredding the damned rags. Neither he nor Sarita needed this added aggravation. Her cooperation today proved the pivotal milestone for the successful execution of his plans.

“It’s only for the rest of the year, honey. I’m retiring, remember?” He brushed his lips across her forehead and the familiar citrus scent enveloped him, like a worn childhood blanket, safety, comfort. “Once I’m out of the game, the paparazzi won’t bother us anymore. Think you can hold out for a year?”

“Can you retire, Rolan? Ever since I’ve known you football has been your whole life.” Head cocked to one side, she met his gaze. “I just can’t see you without football.”

“Sarita, are you ready? We need to get a move on,” Geoff said, as he entered the kitchen. He checked the gleaming platinum Rolex snug against bronzed skin and added, “The interview’s set for ten.”

“Let me get a sweater and I’ll meet you on deck. Is Tony ready?”

“He’s waiting for us.”

“I’m helping Geoff interview potential chefs for the
Glory
,” Sarita offered and whirled, long curls flying, out of the galley.

“I’ll keep her and Tony away until late this evening. Good Luck.” Geoff cuffed his shoulder, gave him a thumbs up, and left.

Rolan headed to the deck. He and Terry puffed on stogies while waiting for Geoff and his entourage to leave. As they watched the Englishman’s Land Rover slip into traffic, Rolan sighed and he exchanged a wary glance with the captain.

“Before we leave, you should know Austen caught your ex slipping something under Sarita’s door early AM. Pretty certain it’ll come back and bite you, whatever it was.”

“Bitch slipped her articles from the rags. As soon as Sarita showed me, my gut told me it was Shannon. When will we leave?”

“Waiting for Austen to come back. He had to nip into town, said he wouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes or so.” Terry checked his watch. “Any minute now.”

He heaved a weary sigh and spiked his hair. “Damn, I guess I can’t put it off any longer.”

“Are you up for it, boyo?”

Rolan snorted. “I must be getting old. The thought of seducing Shannon leaves me nauseous.” He stubbed out the cigar. “Let’s get this show on the road. Where’s the nurse?”

“Incapacitated. I slipped a Mickey into her coffee. She’ll be out the rest of the day. As a fallback, I secured her cabin externally. I gave Harry the day off. That leaves you, the first mate, Austen and me. The first mate’ll be too busy with the
Glory
to be a witness. Rizzo’s in the media room waiting. Austen will monitor everything.”

“No more excuses. Okay, the minute Shannon’s in my cabin, you start searching hers. I’m gone.”

Before he could formulate another delay, Rolan spun around and made his way to the stern deck. Shannon strolled through the sliding glass doors before he could even take a seat.

“Champers? What’s the occasion? And why couldn’t I have breakfast in bed as usual?”

In the process of untwisting the wire around the champagne cork, Rolan shot her a glance and stopped in mid-action. “Nice outfit, Shan. Everyone’s out for the day.”

There was a time when seeing Shannon Cartwright wearing a skintight, clinging, almost nipple-baring sheath would have sent him into sexual overdrive. Not today. He popped the cork, and champagne frothed over the top.

“Sloppy work, Rolan, my love.” She turned around and seized a white napkin.

Rolan tipped the small vial of Spanish fly in his hand into her champagne glass and filled the glass before she spun back to him.

“Oh, well that works too,” she said and accepted the glass from him.

When his back faced her, Rolan checked his flat crotch, emptied the rest of the potion in his glass and topped it with the sparkling wine.

Half an hour later, the brew kicked into gear for Shannon. Nibbling on smoked salmon and toasted bagels, she ran her hand up his thigh and cupped him.

“You always gave the best head, babe. That tongue of yours should be patented.” Rolan covered her hand with his and slid it back and forth, praying for an erection.

“I’m guessing the little Hindu doesn’t cut it?” She licked her lips and leaned closer.

Go big or go home, Rolan went for the gusto and scooped her into his lap.