never
looked back.
He hadn't
intended on following them at all, but Andrea's comment about Cavallaro wearing
a thong, which was an oblique reference to having sex with the man, hit him
like an iron fist to the gut. He'd wanted to run his fist through something.
Anything. Cavallaro's face. Better yet, that thong-clad package of his that
Andrea seemed to covet. Though he shouldn't be surprised. There had been a time
when she'd been eager to warm his bed. More than eager. She'd been passionate about it. He'd never wanted for
lack of sexual adventure with her. And with Andrea, sex had been an adventure
because she had a way of luring him into yet unexplored sensual territory. The
thought that she was working her magic on Cavallaro made him want to throw the
man down one of those bottomless blue holes he'd read about, that dotted the
island...
He scanned the
crowd. Everyone appeared to be islanders. Not very reputable ones either. But
Andrea didn't seem to notice the people, or that the room was so smoky it was
hard to breathe, or that the din of voices was so loud you could barely think,
as she sat gazing at Cavallaro, who was smiling into her eyes.
But something
about Cavallaro wasn't right. He wasn't a gigolo. The man did own a villa in
Majorca and a sixty-four foot yacht, information confirmed with a call to a
contact in Italy. But there was no logical reason why a man with a luxury yacht
would spend time on a second-class cruise ship in the Bahamas when he could be
cruising on his own vessel in the Mediterranean. Or why a man with Cavallaro's
wealth and looks would go after a woman ten years older, who was attractive
enough, but no breathtaking beauty.
Jerry also
noticed something about Cavallaro he was certain Andrea was not aware of. The
man's gaze kept shifting beyond Andrea, as if he were looking for someone. And
he frequently glanced down at his watch. He was up to something, and Jerry
intended to find out what it was, or at least see that Andrea returned to the
ship safely. She'd been his wife for twenty-five years, she was the mother of
his children, and he owed her that much.
When he saw
Andrea put her hands to her temples, he edged his way closer. He noticed then
that her eyes were closed. Cavallaro leaned forward and studied her closely. Then
he stood, reached out and touched her arm so she opened her eyes, then looked
as if excusing himself—gesturing toward the door, then placing his hand over
his heart as if apologizing.
Andrea nodded
and watched him walk away.
After Cavallaro
left, Jerry waited, wondering if the man planned to return. Andrea was looking
decidedly ill. She kept glancing around, assumedly for Cavallaro, but there was
no sign of the man. Then abruptly, Andrea rushed from the table, pushed her way
through the crowd, and went into the ladies room.
Jerry waited
for a few minutes for Andrea to come out, at which time he intended to take her
back to the ship. But when several more minutes ticked by, and she still hadn't
come out, he sent a woman in after her. Moments later, he heard a scream, and
the woman came rushing out...
CHAPTER 5
Andrea opened
her eyes and everything was stationary. She knew she was in a medical clinic
somewhere on the island—the hospital gown she wore had little pink and blue
starfish on it—but she remembered little after Alessandro left the table to
make a phone call. When the room started spinning and tilting she'd rushed into
the restroom, feeling like she was on the verge of getting rid of the contents
of her stomach, then she felt like she was falling
into a dark tunnel. After that, everything was jumbled... being moved around...
opening her eyes and everything spinning... Alessandro's face coming in and out
of focus... total darkness...
She raised her
hand and felt a tender spot on the side of her head...
"Don't
worry, Mrs. Porter," a woman's voice said. "You have a nasty bump on
your head, but you'll be fine."
Andrea looked
around and saw a woman
looked back.
He hadn't
intended on following them at all, but Andrea's comment about Cavallaro wearing
a thong, which was an oblique reference to having sex with the man, hit him
like an iron fist to the gut. He'd wanted to run his fist through something.
Anything. Cavallaro's face. Better yet, that thong-clad package of his that
Andrea seemed to covet. Though he shouldn't be surprised. There had been a time
when she'd been eager to warm his bed. More than eager. She'd been passionate about it. He'd never wanted for
lack of sexual adventure with her. And with Andrea, sex had been an adventure
because she had a way of luring him into yet unexplored sensual territory. The
thought that she was working her magic on Cavallaro made him want to throw the
man down one of those bottomless blue holes he'd read about, that dotted the
island...
He scanned the
crowd. Everyone appeared to be islanders. Not very reputable ones either. But
Andrea didn't seem to notice the people, or that the room was so smoky it was
hard to breathe, or that the din of voices was so loud you could barely think,
as she sat gazing at Cavallaro, who was smiling into her eyes.
But something
about Cavallaro wasn't right. He wasn't a gigolo. The man did own a villa in
Majorca and a sixty-four foot yacht, information confirmed with a call to a
contact in Italy. But there was no logical reason why a man with a luxury yacht
would spend time on a second-class cruise ship in the Bahamas when he could be
cruising on his own vessel in the Mediterranean. Or why a man with Cavallaro's
wealth and looks would go after a woman ten years older, who was attractive
enough, but no breathtaking beauty.
Jerry also
noticed something about Cavallaro he was certain Andrea was not aware of. The
man's gaze kept shifting beyond Andrea, as if he were looking for someone. And
he frequently glanced down at his watch. He was up to something, and Jerry
intended to find out what it was, or at least see that Andrea returned to the
ship safely. She'd been his wife for twenty-five years, she was the mother of
his children, and he owed her that much.
When he saw
Andrea put her hands to her temples, he edged his way closer. He noticed then
that her eyes were closed. Cavallaro leaned forward and studied her closely. Then
he stood, reached out and touched her arm so she opened her eyes, then looked
as if excusing himself—gesturing toward the door, then placing his hand over
his heart as if apologizing.
Andrea nodded
and watched him walk away.
After Cavallaro
left, Jerry waited, wondering if the man planned to return. Andrea was looking
decidedly ill. She kept glancing around, assumedly for Cavallaro, but there was
no sign of the man. Then abruptly, Andrea rushed from the table, pushed her way
through the crowd, and went into the ladies room.
Jerry waited
for a few minutes for Andrea to come out, at which time he intended to take her
back to the ship. But when several more minutes ticked by, and she still hadn't
come out, he sent a woman in after her. Moments later, he heard a scream, and
the woman came rushing out...
CHAPTER 5
Andrea opened
her eyes and everything was stationary. She knew she was in a medical clinic
somewhere on the island—the hospital gown she wore had little pink and blue
starfish on it—but she remembered little after Alessandro left the table to
make a phone call. When the room started spinning and tilting she'd rushed into
the restroom, feeling like she was on the verge of getting rid of the contents
of her stomach, then she felt like she was falling
into a dark tunnel. After that, everything was jumbled... being moved around...
opening her eyes and everything spinning... Alessandro's face coming in and out
of focus... total darkness...
She raised her
hand and felt a tender spot on the side of her head...
"Don't
worry, Mrs. Porter," a woman's voice said. "You have a nasty bump on
your head, but you'll be fine."
Andrea looked
around and saw a woman
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