Deadly Embrace by Jackie Collins (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📕

To Madison’s annoyance, Dani Castle hung round all through dinner. She ate lobster, she drank wine, she talked to Michael. Too bad! What could have been a wonderful dinner was ruined.

As soon as they were finished, Madison excused herself. ‘I’m kind of tired,’ she said. ‘Do you mind if I go upstairs?’

‘You sure, sweetheart?’ Michael said.

‘I really am. I want to wake up early and hit the beach,’ she said, getting up from the table. ‘Night, Mrs Castle.’

‘Good night, Madison,’ Dani said warmly. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you.’

Yeah, well, Madison thought, the pleasure is all yours.

She walked away from the table and wandered outside. She was not tired at all–she was just tired of watching her father cosy up to the tall blonde.

The beach beckoned, so she decided to take a long walk, which she did, enjoying every second of the roaring ocean and the feel of the sand on her bare feet.

When she arrived back at the hotel, it was quite late. Frankie Medina was standing in the lobby, resplendent in his white suit and deep suntan.

‘Hey, here comes that beautiful girl again,’ he said. ‘The one with the lonely eyes.’

‘Do you think I have lonely eyes?’

‘Yes.’

Hmm…Poetic too. A poetic playboy. Just what I feel like.

‘What’re you doing?’ he asked.

‘I took a walk along the beach. It was great.’

‘I used to do that when I first moved here.’

‘Where did you move here from?’

‘You don’t wanna know.’

‘About that Porsche you were telling me about…’

‘Would you care to take a ride?’

‘Why not?’

Now, this was an adventure.

His Porsche was low-slung, black, and very sexy. It also featured a great sound system. He put on Frank Sinatra’s In the Wee Small Hours.

‘Don’t you have any Bon Jovi or Janet Jackson?’ she asked, disappointed by his choice of music.

‘Listen and learn. Sinatra is the greatest.’

He was rather sweet. Old, but sweet.

He zipped her around town in his Porsche, pointing out the sights, Sinatra crooning away.

‘You’re a regular tour guide,’ she said, enjoying every moment.

‘How old are you, Madison?’

‘Eighteen,’ she lied, like her father before her.

‘You’re a baby.’

‘No, I’m not,’ she said indignantly. ‘Eighteen is hardly a baby. How old are you?’

‘Forty,’ he lied, shaving off five years. ‘You want to come up and see my penthouse?’

‘Do I need my passport to get up there?’

‘Just bring your luscious self.’

Luscious self. Wow!

‘What happened to that blonde you were with earlier?’ she asked.

‘They come and they go,’ he said vaguely. ‘Interchangeable blonde babes–I got a dozen of ’em.’

‘Oh, that’s right, you’re a playboy.’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I am.’

‘Then maybe I should write about you,’ she said archly. ‘Profile of a playboy. What do you think?’

‘I think you’re cute.’

‘Thanks!’

His penthouse was the most beautiful apartment she’d ever been in, far nicer than their place in New York, which she considered over-decorated and too antiquey–Stella’s taste. The penthouse featured an enormous living room furnished in white modern minimalist style, vast walls of windows overlooking the ocean, and a fantasy bedroom with an oversized waterbed covered in rose petals. It was the most glamorous place she’d ever seen.

‘What’s with the rose petals?’ she asked as he gave her the tour.

‘They’re an aphrodisiac.’

‘Right,’ she said, reminding herself to look up ‘aphrodisiac’ in the dictionary, although she had a vague idea that it had something to do with sex.

After sipping a glass of cold champagne with peaches floating in it, she turned to him and said, ‘When are you going to make a move on me?’

‘Eighteen’s a little young for me,’ he answered. adjusting the sound on his stereo by remote.

‘Oh, c’mon,’ she challenged. ‘You’re a playboy with a Porsche and a penthouse. You can make a move on me.’

‘I’d feel like a dirty old man.’

‘You are a dirty old man,’ she said. And she threw her arms round his neck and started to kiss him.

‘Madison,’ he said, trying to extract himself from her, ‘even I’ve got some principles.’

‘Well, drop ’em,’ she said. ‘’Cause I’m in Miami to have fun.’

‘Then the first thing you’d better do is learn how to kiss.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Kiss, baby. Pucker up. I’m about to give you a lesson you will never forget.’

The weekend went by only too quickly. Michael noticed that Madison seemed to be in an extremely good mood and, even better, she gave him plenty of time to himself.

‘I thought we were spending this weekend together?’ he asked quizzically, after she’d been missing from yet another lunch.

‘We are,’ she said. ‘Only I met this friend from school, and we’re having such a great time exploring. You don’t mind, do you?’ she added innocently. ‘That’s what us writers like to do.’

He didn’t mind at all. Madison’s absence allowed him to spend plenty of time with Dani and the adorable Sofia, who looked like Madison had at the same age. There was something in his genes that produced matching kids.

Meanwhile Madison was experiencing an adventure she could only have imagined in her wildest dreams. Frankie Medina was teaching her everything an aspiring writer needed to know. And her education was not taking place between the pages. Far more exciting–it was taking place between the sheets.

Madison was a very willing pupil indeed.

Back in New York, Marcie informed Michael that Vito Giovanni needed to see him urgently.

Vito never changed. When Vito wanted something, he wanted it immediately. He was not a patient man.

Michael gave him a call. ‘What’s up, Vito?’

‘Gotta see you, Michael,’ Vito replied in his familiar gravelly voice. ‘Come by the house.’

‘How’s six o’clock tonight?’

‘That’ll suit me.’

Michael skipped going home and had his driver take him straight from the office to Vito’s brownstone. He hadn’t seen Vito in several months–it wasn’t necessary since they conducted most of their business by phone.

Vito was sitting in his favourite chair in his living room. He looked like he’d shrunk, or that his chair had grown larger.

‘Mike, come in,’ Vito said, waving him into the room. ‘You want a drink? Jack Daniel’s. I never forget a man’s drink.’

‘Yeah,’ Michael said, feeling right at home. ‘I’ll have a