Deadly Embrace by Jackie Collins (best 7 inch ereader .TXT) 📗

only one who’s been there for me through everything.’

‘Y’know, Michael, you use me,’ she complained.

‘What?’ he said, frowning.

‘The only time you come here is when you need something. The rest of the time I’m by myself.’

‘That’s bull—’

‘No!’ she interrupted. ‘It’s fact. And another thing, the moment I start a relationship, back you come to ruin everything.’

‘Don’t mean to.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘It’s a little late for regrets, isn’t it?’

‘Not at all,’ she said heatedly. ‘I’ve a lot of good years left.’

‘Sure you do, sweetheart,’ he said, soothing her anger. ‘You’re still an extremely beautiful woman.’

Determined not to fall for his flattery as she usually did, she thrust out her jaw. ‘I repeat, why are you here?’

‘You want the truth, or how about I make something up?’

‘The truth would be nice for a change.’

‘Okay, you asked for it,’ he said, gulping down his drink. ‘There’s a warrant out for my arrest.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘Wish I was.’

‘For what?’

‘Here’s the deal,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m being accused of shooting Stella and her boyfriend.’

She stared at him for a long time. She’d heard so many stories about Michael and Stella. Quite frankly, she didn’t know what to believe. ‘Did you?’ she asked at last, her throat quite dry at the thought.

‘What do you think?’ he answered.

‘I think you’re a man who’s capable of anything.’

‘I didn’t do it, Dani, okay?’ he said sharply. ‘You can take my word on it.’

‘Have you seen a lawyer?’

‘Lawyers,’ he said, his voice filled with contempt. ‘Show me a lawyer an’ I’ll show you a guy who sits in a fancy office runnin’ up big bills while screwing his secretary and his clients.’

‘You’re very cynical, Michael.’

‘No shit.’

‘So,’ she said, sighing, ‘what you’re telling me is that there’s a warrant out for your arrest, and that you’re a fugitive. Right?’

He nodded.

‘And since you’re here, in my apartment, doesn’t that make me an accessory?’

‘I guess so,’ he agreed, nodding again.

‘And I’m supposed to protect you?’

‘That’s about it.’

‘Oh, gee, thanks,’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t get you as a husband, but I do get you as a fugitive.’

‘What’s with this marriage crap?’ he said irritably. ‘You and me, sweetheart, we’ve had a longer relationship than any dumb marriage.’

Suddenly she’d had enough of him. Once again he was coming to her because he was in trouble, and it simply wasn’t fair. ‘Screw you, Michael,’ she said, turning away so he couldn’t see how much he affected her.

‘That’s exactly what I had in mind,’ he said, moving in her direction.

‘Of course you did.’ She gave up.

And as he came towards her, she knew there was no way she could resist him.

Michael was an addiction–one she’d never been able to overcome.

Time stood still for Sofia as she flew through the air, waiting to see whether she hit water or concrete.

Holy shit! she thought. What a way to die. Escaping from two horny old Spaniards. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

If I make it, she promised herself, I’m going home. Enough of this crap!

Then she hit water, and the relief was overwhelming.

She felt herself sinking, sinking, sinking…

Was she about to crack the bottom of the pool? Smash her skull? How far did she have to go before she started coming up?

Oh, man! This was like so insane.

Then suddenly she was surfacing, gasping and spluttering for air, her lungs filled with water.

I made it, I made it, she thought triumphantly, splashing to the side of the pool and hauling herself out on to the cold concrete, where she collapsed.

Holy shit, I made it! I made it!

She lay on the ground for a moment, gathering her strength. Then she rolled over and glanced up.

Paco was leaning over the terrace, a look of amazement on his face.

‘Screw you, asshole!’ she yelled. ‘I’m calling the freaking cops. And if they won’t do anything, I’ll get my father, and he’ll beat the crap out of you. You bastards!’

She wondered if he understood her. Probably not. The jerk didn’t speak English.

What was she supposed to do now? Walk home? Her purse with everything in it–including her passport and money–was still in the penthouse.

She remembered seeing a hall porter when she’d entered the building, so as soon as she felt she could stand, she got up and made her way round to the front of the building and into the lobby.

The concierge stared at her in alarm as she marched up to the front of the reception desk.

She knew she must be a strange sight, dripping wet with an angry gleam in her eyes. ‘Go to the penthouse,’ she commanded, ‘and get my purse. If the assholes in the apartment won’t give it to you, tell ’em I’m calling the police.’

‘Qué?’ the man said, twitching nervously.

‘Penthouse. My purse,’ she repeated. ‘You go get it.’

He still didn’t understand her.

She began shivering uncontrollably. She might be half drowned and unable to speak the language, but she was mad as hell, and if this suckface didn’t move soon, she was about to start screaming and really cause a riot.

‘Do it!’ she yelled. ‘Do it now!’

Chapter Twelve

Michael: 1964

‘Who’s that girl?’ Michael asked, his gaze following the willowy blonde with the knock-out body high-kicking at the end of the chorus line.

Manny Spiven didn’t even bother looking. ‘Just another Vegas cooze,’ he chortled, amused by his own choice of words.

Michael shot him a look. He didn’t like Manny, but business was business, and since he was now working full-time for Vito Giovanni, he had to deal with him.

This was his third trip to Vegas in so many weeks. He was kind of getting off on being Vito’s trusted courier–because basically that was his job, hand-delivering packages. He didn’t know what was in them, although he suspected it was money, and that was okay–there was nothing wrong with shifting cash from state to state.

Things had changed considerably in the last few months. Vinny selling the shop and the house had been a big blow. ‘You gotta get out