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

that maybe he’d go with the well-used line of ‘Don’t I know you? And if not, I’m sure I know your sister, ’cause you look exactly like her.’ It was a dumb line that always worked.

Ten minutes later, out came the pretty blonde with another girl. Her friend had long brown hair, big tits and a pronounced overbite.

He hung back, watching her for a moment. Out of costume she was even prettier than he’d thought and very young.

Too young?

Naw, exactly right.

The two girls stood outside chatting animatedly, then just as he decided it was time to make his move, a redheaded guy on a motorcycle zoomed up, and the blonde waved to her girlfriend, climbed on the back of the bike, and took off.

‘Shit!’ he mumbled under his breath. How was that for bad timing?

The girl with the long brown hair and the big tits was still standing there.

Without taking a beat he approached her. ‘Uh…excuse me, Miss,’ he said politely. ‘Wasn’t that Sarah who just left on the bike?’

‘Who?’ she said, looking him over and liking what she saw.

‘Sarah…She’s a girl I know from New York.’

‘You must mean Dani.’

‘Really?’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘She’s the image of Sarah. Maybe they’re sisters.’

‘Could be.’

‘You wouldn’t have her phone number, would you?’

‘Oh, c’mon,’ she said, laughing. ‘Like I’m gonna give you her phone number.’

‘Why not?’

‘Some strange guy on the make. You gotta be kidding.’

He gave her the innocent stare, the one that always scored him points. ‘Don’t I look like I deserve it?’

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head, long brown hair swirling round her shoulders.

‘Yes, I do,’ he said, turning on the charm. ‘You know I do.’

She couldn’t help giggling. He had her.

‘So who was the guy on the bike?’ he asked, making it casual.

‘Dani lives with him,’ the girl said. ‘Which means you’re outta luck.’ She paused for a moment, then added, ‘But I’m free.’

‘And very pretty too,’ he said. ‘Problem is I got an early flight outta here tomorrow. You know how it is.’

‘Not really,’ she said, batting her eyelashes.

‘Havta get back to New York. Business, y’know.’

‘Shame,’ she said, giving him a why-don’t-you-stay look.

‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll be here again soon.’

‘Drop by and see me,’ she said, with the appropriate amount of interest. ‘My name’s Angela. We can hook up.’

He wondered if he should seize the opportunity with Angela, who was definitely hot to tango. Then he decided against it.

Dani. That was the name that lingered.

On his next trip he was determined to meet her.

‘How was Vegas?’ Mamie asked, a cigarette dangling from her scarlet lips, a glass of vodka balanced in one hand. She was lolling on the couch in the Giovanni living room, wearing a leather skirt that was way too short, a flimsy transparent blouse and red slingbacks.

She must be almost fifty for crissakes, Michael thought. Why can’t she dress her age?

‘It’s a fantastic place,’ he replied. ‘Only I gotta say, it ain’t New York.’

‘What about the girlies?’ Mamie inquired, blowing a stream of smoke in his direction.

‘Not bad,’ he answered, in a noncommittal tone.

‘How come you ain’t got yourself a steady?’ she wanted to know. ‘You’re big enough an’ handsome enough.’

‘Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’ he said, quoting his grandma.

His reply made her shriek with laughter. ‘That’s my stud,’ she said with a saucy wink. ‘You wouldn’t want some whining little tootsie hangin’ on to your coat-tails, would you, now?’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I wouldn’t want that.’

He wished Vito would put in an appearance so he could give him his package and get the hell out. Good as she’d been to him, there were times when Mamie made him uncomfortable, and this was one of them.

‘So tell me, Mikey,’ she asked, dragging deeply on her cigarette, ‘do the girlies you sleep with got any clue what they’re doin’ in the sack?’

He couldn’t believe she was asking such a personal question. ‘Huh?’ he mumbled, hoping she’d get off the subject.

‘You know what I mean,’ she said, crossing her legs. ‘Do they give you a really good time, or are they only in it for themselves?’

‘Mrs G—’ he began.

‘Don’t “Mrs G” me,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s about time you called me Mamie. And you know exactly what I’m gettin’ at.’ She paused for a moment–then, ‘Do they suck you off the way you like it? Or is it amateur night?’

‘Jeez!’

‘Oh, for crissakes, quit the shy act,’ she said, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘It don’t suit you.’

‘Thanks!’

‘Do you make ’em come?’ she asked, leaning forward, a gleam in her heavily mascaraed eyes. ‘I bet you’re a pistol between the sheets.’

He was saved by the appearance of Vito, who entered the room in a hurry–short and stout, puffing on a cigar, clad in a dark green velvet smoking jacket, green pants, and black patent leather shoes. Vito considered himself an arbiter of fashion.

‘You got it, kid?’ he asked, wheezing and coughing his way across the room.

‘Sure have, Mr G.’

‘Good, good,’ he said, waving his cigar in the air. ‘Gimme, gimme.’

Vito had a habit of repeating words, as if saying it once wasn’t enough.

Michael handed over the large manilla envelope he was carrying and waited for his payment, which was always in cash. Vito was never without a thick stack of bills carried somewhere on his person.

Vito groped in his pocket, and produced the usual wad. ‘Any problems?’ he asked.

‘Nope,’ Michael replied, thinking, How could there be problems with such a simple job?

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure.’

‘Hi, honey,’ Mamie crooned, waving a beringed hand at her husband. ‘While you’re handin’ out money, how about li’l old me?’

‘Whaddaya doin’ drinkin’ so early?’ Vito growled, throwing her a disapproving look.

‘Just bein’ social,’ she replied.

‘Social, my ass,’ Vito muttered. ‘You’re turnin’ inta a lush.’

‘Honey!’

Ignoring her, he turned back to Michael. ‘Gotta feelin’ you should start carryin’ a piece,’ he said.

‘Huh?’

‘A piece. A gun. Bang-bang. You understand what I’m sayin’?’

Michael frowned. Carrying a gun was not on the agenda of things he thought he should do. ‘Well, uh…’

‘You ever shot a