Second Chance Gold (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 4) by John Cunningham (tohfa e dulha read online TXT) 📗

She was dressed in a tight black midriff tank top that sparkled with rhinestones, black short-shorts, and black spiked heels. No black-framed glasses, no bun—her black hair fell down around her shoulders.

She smiled, raised her arms, and danced in a slow circle—thrusting her ass out with each bass beat. Swept into the cacophony of sound, light, and body heat, I was soon pumping my fists and grinding against her amongst the phalanx of dancers.

Celebrate, indeed.

Laser lights shot out from the back rooms, separated from us by curtains and columns. I spotted Truck being led in that direction by a tall brunette he’d been dancing with. Soon hats, long wigs, and beads began to circulate. Caterina placed a gold hat on my head, and while I suddenly felt like Elton John, the deep, pumping music was all-absorbing, and the hat only made me vamp more.

The three dancers reappeared, dropped in through a hole in the ceiling. They hung from long ribbons and spun while others danced around them—I saw a man in a pirate hat and cloak go past, followed by a woman dressed in a smidgen of a sea wench outfit. I even saw Truck go by, now wearing a pirate jacket.

Sweat had soaked through my linen shirt and pants by the time I finally took Caterina by the arm and into the back hall to catch our breath and talk. She produced tall orange drinks, sweet with fresh fruit juice but thick with rum. The pulsating crowd pressed us close together.

“So what’s the news you—”

She closed the gap and pressed her lips against mine.

Startled momentarily, I put my hand behind her neck and pulled her closer. She tipped her head back, lashes thick with mascara, lips glistening.

“Is that all you want? Information about the Concepcíon?”

“Not …”

“Are you not surprised by what you see?”

“Totally.”

“I heard you were at Gisele Atlas’s today. And that you went flying with Nicole de Haenen.” Her hands were on her hips now, her chin cocked forward.

That was the least of my excitement, but I didn’t want to share the story of what happened with the Dominicans—not yet. She read my face.

“See, you have learned something and are not sharing with me, either!” She had to scream over the music.

“But I—”

She again pressed into me for a deep but brief kiss. Then pushed me back, swirled to the new song the DJ had started, then waved to a waitress who immediately brought us a pair of shots. We slammed them down— whatever it was tasted nasty.

Caterina smiled broadly.

Boas were now being passed around. We climbed atop a table and I caught my reflection on a mirrored wall: gold hat with a lime green boa wrapped around my neck. I laughed out loud, but the sound didn’t even make it to my ears. The music became louder—more pirate outfits pressed past us—

Was that Jack Dodson standing in the shadows?

Truck, where’s Truck?

I grabbed Caterina’s hand and pulled her down off the table, which was a mistake. Sensory overload, too much booze and lack of food had me dizzy, and the main floor had escalated to a fever pitch. I looked around, the room whirling.

“Truck, have you seen him?”

I slipped and grabbed Caterina’s shoulder for balance. She swirled in a quick pirouette and led me toward a red velvet couch. I fell into it and just kept sinking—

All the sound and colored lights spiraled into a tight tunnel of white, then synthesized into a blur.

Light. If I just opened my eyes there was light out there.

I was lying flat.

It was quiet—no, there was a high-pitched ping, followed by a tapping sound.

My eyes fluttered. I was in bed, but not at La Banane.

A woman with long black hair lay facing away from me in the bed, black angel wings tattooed across her naked shoulder blades. I rubbed my eyes, which hurt. My head throbbed.

The woman rolled toward me.

Caterina.

“I just woke up.” She stretched her arms, causing her pert breasts to rise and fall. “How long have you been awake?”

“I’m not sure I am.” My voice sounded far away. “What happened?”

Her eyes narrowed for a second, then widened.

“Baby, how could you forget? You were un animal.” Her voice purred as she reached out and ran her hand over my chest. She pinched my nipple. I flinched.

What the hell?

I didn’t recall ever having so much to drink that I couldn’t remember having sex with a beautiful woman. And I’d never had a hangover like this—my mind was in a complete fog.

“Did we go to Le Ti?” I said.

Ping.

“What’s that noise?” I said.

Caterina rolled back over, stood up, and scooped up her cell phone.

“I need to shower. I will be late for a meeting.”

She stood for a moment, completely naked and staring at me, no shyness whatsoever. Was this really the same woman, the historian who dressed conservatively?

Ping.

She stole a quick glance at her phone as she turned toward what I assumed was the bathroom.

“I will drop you in Lorient on my way to Gustavia.” She said this with her back to me as she closed the bathroom door.

“Where are we?”

No response.

I rolled to the side of the bed and sat up, still woozy. And naked.

With the drapes parted I recognized the scenery outside. We were still in Pointe Milou, where Le Ti was located. I had a flash memory of arriving there … loud music … Truck! Did I leave him stranded? Or did he leave me?

Why couldn’t I remember anything?

My hand pressed over my eyes. Had I been drugged? By Caterina?

My head pounded as I glanced around the sparse room: modern décor, glass and black furniture. On a chair I spotted my pants. I stood—wobbling—and grabbed my shirt from the foot of the bed. The sound of the shower came through the wall. It took all my concentration to reach the chair, and I nearly fell over trying to pull on my pants.

I glanced around again. Her