Paradise - Part Two (The Erotic Adventures of Sophia Durant) by O.L. Casper Page A

each other…” he asked.
    He tried to sound matter-of-fact, but came off anxious. Had I got the great man scared?
    “Naturally. Tonight?”
    “Yes—tonight then. It’ll have to be after nine o’clock though. Is that alright?”
    “Of course.” I looked at him, smiling obnoxiously.
    “ Of course ,” he repeated.
    “Where have you been these last few days?”
    I looked at him again, trying to convey a penetrating glare but probably failing miserably.
    “We’ll discuss it later. I’ve got to be going.”
    He knocked back the last of his espresso, put the cup in the sink and left out of the great kitchen.
    I smiled inwardly, took another sip of my espresso and tried to focus on Le Monde , but couldn’t.
     
    The HTC lit up moments after I first stretched out on my bed, having returned to my room after an exhausting day looking after Savannah. The phone was on silent, didn’t vibrate; I saw the light projected off the LCD display light up the ceiling. I opened the message. It was from Stafford. Did he have someone alert him as soon as I’d gone back to my room? I thought there must be hidden cameras throughout the place—visualizing cameras that looked like flower vases or the frames of paintings like some Orwellian dream. Perhaps there was a sensor in the door to my room to tell him when it opened and closed. A camera in my room so he could see me pleasure myself.
    MARK: Have to take a rain check on tonight. Something came up.
    SOPHIA: It’s just as well…I’m exhausted.
    He wrote back faster than I thought humanly possible. Perhaps a computer wrote his texts for him. The spelling and grammar were too good for him not to have had help.
    MARK: Go on the TV in your room—it’s an internet TV—and go to the file marked “Villa.” You’ll find thousands of movies to watch. I love it. I watch all kinds of classics on there. Coppola, de Palma, John Milius
    Now, I thought, he’s been observing what I like to watch somehow.
    SOPHIA: Thanks. I knew they were there. I’d already found them.
    MARK: Of course, you’re the techno-wiz. How could I forget?
    SOPHIA: Right. Well, good night, I guess.
    MARK: What do you mean? You’re going to bed this early?
    His directness was refreshing, but I sensed he already felt he owned me in some way. He was subtly controlling and it made me instinctively want to shut him down. But I felt if I made him aware of this feeling he would try a new tactic that I might not be aware of.
    SOPHIA: Definitely not, but I know you’re busy and I want to let you get on with it.
    MARK: Yes. I have a meeting coming up. Maybe I’ll hit you up after.
    SOPHIA: I’ll be here.
    For some reason I hoped he would respond to that, but he didn’t. And I felt sick with myself for thinking in this way. I felt sick and trapped by a growing infatuation that I could no longer deny, which I imagined was festering out of control like some hideously infected wound. A rotting hole in the side of a sick, homeless dog in China with maggots growing inside. I don’t know why, but that was the image that came to mind. I wanted some of Anna’s AK-47 to ease the tension, to make me think more clearly, and make the time glide past, but I decided against seeking out Anna and her psychotropic grass. I just didn’t want to make the effort. Then I changed my mind.
    I vaguely knew where Anna stayed. I asked one of the maids in the hall and she pointed me to the room. It was two floors above the one I stayed on, with a magnificent view to the sea. Anna opened the door droopy eyed. She’d obviously been fast asleep.
    “I’m so sorry to bother you,” I said through a barely cracked door.
    As she came to recognize me, she opened it further.
    “It’s okay. It’s nice to see you. Is everything alright?”
    “Yes. Well—can I come in?”
    “Of course. I’m sorry.”
    Anna showed me in. She was wearing silk pajamas. For some reason she had never looked more attractive. I had to look away from her several times