The wraparound lower deck afforded a full view of the city skyline. The surrounding water caught reflections that danced across the lake. This place must be worth a mint, I thought. Even so, the main attraction for me was obviously inside.
Gabriella opened the door before I could ring the bell. I gave her the once-over and liked what I saw. She was wearing a carnation-colored kimono that revealed a lot of cleavage. I wondered if she wore anything under it.
“You’re right on time,” she said.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“Not really.” Her cheeks flushed. “Come in.”
I walked into a wide, open living and dining area. It had cane furnishings, rich, paneled walls, multiple picture windows, and more than a touch of class.
Gabriella looked perfect in this setting. She was everything I ever dreamt about. With luck, this could turn into a regular gig.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked.
“Sure, why not.”
“I’ve got wine, whiskey, brandy, beer…”
“Wine.” I liked beer, but wine sounded more romantic.
She handed me a long-stemmed glass and filled it with a Cabernet Sauvignon.
“Does your husband go away on business often?”
“Often enough.”
I grinned. “Works for me.”
“I’m glad it does.”
I sat my glass down and pulled her close. I kissed her deep and long.
After a while, she pulled away. “Why don’t we go in the bedroom where it’s more comfortable?”
“Lead the way.”
She took my hand and we ended up in a spacious master suite on the main floor. It had a king-size four-poster bed and crisp red satin sheets ready to be wrinkled.
“I’m yours,” Gabriella cooed.
I didn’t want to give her a moment to change her mind, so I untied the belt on her kimono. Indeed, she wore nothing beneath it. Her voluptuous naked body just begged to be caressed.
She kissed me, ran her tongue through my lips, then laid down on the bed, her long, shapely legs making me forget any woman-trouble I’d had in the past. She curled a finger and beckoned me to join her.
I got undressed in a hurry, eager to get between those satin sheets.
But I didn’t hurry through our lovemaking. It had been a long time since I’d been with a woman, especially a woman like this-I spent what seemed like forever lost in her touch and her firm breasts, her smooth, velvet-soft bronze skin, her legs wrapped around me, her hands cupping my buttocks.
A loud noise in the hallway interrupted our passion.
“What the hell was that?”
Gabriella’s eyes went wide. “I think my husband’s back.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You said he was out of town.”
“He must have taken an early flight,” she said, jumping out of bed and grabbing her robe. “You have to get out of here!”
Hell… I doubted I could get dressed and past her husband without him seeing me.
I’d just put on my pants and loafers when a sixty-something white man burst into the bedroom. He was heavyset, paunchy, and wore a designer suit. His eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Gabriella.
“You bitch!”
She cowered behind me like she expected me to go from lover to protector.
“Hey, why don’t we talk about this?” I told the guy.
He sucker-punched me on the chin, stunning me. My legs gave out, but I got up quickly. He was bigger than me, but I was half his age. He swung again. I ducked and hit him twice in his big belly.
He doubled over, gasping for air.
I thought it was over, but he suddenly charged me like a battering ram and got me in a headlock. We both tumbled to the floor.
He ended up on top in our struggle, then got his huge hands around my neck and started to choke me.
I couldn’t break his grip. Desperate, I balled my hands and slammed them against his temples as hard as I could.
He groaned and released his grip on my neck. I scrambled out from under him and got to my feet. But so did he…
Man, this dude was as strong as an ox and ready to go at it again.
Then a shot rang out.
The big man clutched his chest and fell flat on his face.
I turned and saw Gabriella holding a Glock in her hand.
“Damn, you killed him,” I said, attempting to catch my breath.
“Yeah.” She looked at me with eyes that had gone cold.
I tried to collect my thoughts as I moved toward her. “Look, you could say that you shot your husband in self- defense.”
A man appeared behind her in the bedroom doorway. “That won’t be necessary,” he told me.
It was the Latino man I had run into on the dock. Gabriella handed him the gun and he aimed it at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, staring into the wrong end of the gun with nowhere to run. “Who are you?” I looked to Gabriella. “What the hell is this?”
“Shall I tell him or do you want to?” the man said to Gabriella.
As he put a protective arm around her shoulder, she smiled at me. “You followed me home, Conrad, and beat and raped me.” She said this in a stone-cold, matter-of-fact tone. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“What a bad man you are,” she continued. “But when my dear husband came home early, he tried to save me, and the two of you got into a fight. Then you shot him to death. That’s when Enrique, my husband’s lawyer, came over for a meeting. Thankfully, he got hold of the gun and shot you. You might have killed me too.” She looked at Enrique. “Hit me in the face,” she told him. “We’ve got to make it look good. Leave some marks; just don’t spoil my looks.”
Enrique made his free hand into a fist. “Don’t worry, baby, nothing can spoil
“Damn, Enrique,” said Gabriella, wiping at the blood with the palm of one hand.
“Why me?” I asked Gabriella.
“You were available.” She glanced at Enrique. “Shoot him,
“My pleasure.” He cracked a cocky grin. “So long, sucker. Hope she was worth it.”
“Just do it!” Gabriella yelled, giving Enrique an impatient shove. The unexpected jolt caused the gun to go off. Lucky for me, the bullet missed but I actually felt it whiz by my head.
I did the only thing I could in that moment of confusion: I barreled straight into Enrique, buried my right shoulder in his mid-section, and grabbed hold of his gun hand.
Gabriella screamed. As we struggled for the gun she stepped in to help her man. She hit me a good one, then scratched my face, but I held on.
That’s when the Glock went off again. A couple times.
Gabriella collapsed to the floor, blood gushing out of her like a fountain.
“Baby!” Enrique yelled. “Baby!”
He forgot all about me for a second. I wrenched the gun away from him.
The man fell to his knees beside her and cradled her head in his arms. “No, no, no,” he repeated when he realized she was probably dead. “No, no…”
“Get up, you bastard,” I said, my head swimming, my knees weak. The Glock was shaky in my hand, but still aimed square at his head.
I took a deep breath. It was over. I had him.
