I’m surprised at how disappointed I am. I thought for sure last night’s entertainment would at least earn me a goodbye. On the other hand, perhaps this is his way of “savoring the hunt.”
No gentlemen indeed.
Then again, I wasn’t behaving like much of a lady.
“Would you like breakfast, madame?” Valerie asks. “We can have it brought to your room, or you can enjoy it on the upper deck. It’s a lovely day.”
“Sure,” I say, thinking maybe a little sustenance wouldn’t hurt. “Do you have a menu?”
“We can make whatever you’d like, madame.”
“Whatever you have on hand is fine.”
“What is it you would prefer, madame?”
I stare at her, realizing that her prior statement wasn’t just a platitude.
“Anything I’d like?”
“Oui, madame.”
“Pepperoni pizza?”
She pauses only a second but doesn’t dare drop her professionalism. “Of course, madame.”
“No, I don’t want pepperoni pizza,” I say with a sigh, trying to smile it away. “Just…some coffee and fruit would be nice. I’ll take it in the room.”
“Any particular fruit?”
Good grief, this could go on all morning.
“Just a mix is fine.”
“Are there any, in particular, you wish not to be included?”
Seriously?
“I don’t like plums,” I say, just to have something to leave out.
“No plums. Very good, madame. Will there be anything else until then?”
“No, thank you, Valerie. You’ve been very helpful.”
She smiles and leaves. By the time I’m dressed, wearing a red shift dress and flat sandals, and done something with my face and hair, the food arrives.
The coffee is in a silver pot with a fine china cup and plate. It smells divine. The fruit is…spectacular, in an array on a large platter that would be fit for a champagne brunch. There are slices of cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, and pineapple fanned out, surrounding bunches of mixed berries, grapes, sliced nectarines, kiwi, mango, and various apple cubes. They even included two unpeeled bananas, just in case.
I pour a cup of coffee and add a drop of cream, just the way I like it. As I sip, I stare down at the platter of fruit, wondering where to start.
“Oh, that’s good,” I murmur after that first taste of the coffee. It’s no surprise Magnus would have only the best.
I pick up a fork and stab a slice of mango, not even bothering to take a seat first. As I chew, a smile curls my lips as I note the symbolism.
Forbidden fruit?
Welcome to the world of sin, Sloane.
Chapter Thirty-Seven Magnus
I’m juggling too many things—important things—for Sloane to occupy as much real estate in my brain as she is.
I thought leaving the yacht before she woke up would drop me right back into shark mode, but the only prey I’m salivating over has an elegant neck I long to taste and sensual, dark brown legs I want wrapped around me again.
“And for what date and times should I book the flight to Cape Town, sir?”
I slam the door shut on the “Sloane” compartment of my brain and bring my attention back to one of my assistants. I mentally recall the dates Lara managed to pry out of a stupidly wasted Ruben Bakker. I’ll be arriving a few days after him.
After confirming the dates with my assistant, I move onto the issue that concerns the next guest from last night’s party.
“Send a reminder to Franco in the casino that I’m to be updated by the minute about tonight’s poker game with Zachary Kim. He’ll know what I’m referring to.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And—”
I’m interrupted by the ring of my private cell phone. It’s Mona, which only serves as a reminder of another woman troubling my brain.
“That will be all for now, Clara.”
“Yes, sir.”
I wait until she’s left my office before I answer.
“What has she done now?”
“There’s no need to assume the worst Magnus. In fact, I think you’ll be happily surprised with the news I have for you.”
I don’t bother getting my hopes up. I suspect my aunt and I have differing views when it comes to good news concerning my younger sister.
“By all means, enlighten me.”
“Estelle is coming to Monte Carlo and bringing her nice young man with her. She wants to introduce you to him.”
I’m surprised, but the laugh that escapes my lips isn’t one of happiness. So this is the game Estelle is playing—one she’s played with me many a time before. Bring a seemingly nice, upstanding young man around to meet the older (wealthier) brother. More often than not, that nice young man has some scheme he wants me to be a part of—namely in the form of financing. In many cases, all it takes is one conversation for me to reveal the not so nice man behind the curtain. In one sad instance, the “nice young man” was nothing more than a pawn, standing in for the “bad boy” she had waiting in the wings.
“Is this the same nice young man who she dropped out of school to run away to Italy with?”
I hear the disappointed sigh on the other end. “I wish you would at least try to be open-minded about this, Magnus. It isn’t easy for Estelle to introduce men to you. You always manage to run them off in one way or another.”
“They usually do that to themselves when they find out I’m not the generous schmuck they think I am, especially when it comes to my sister’s latest boy toy.”
“At least this one is willing to come to you. I’ve had conversations with both of them using that video thing on my phone.”
“FaceTime.”
“Yes, yes…I suppose these things have their uses. I’m just old fashioned that way. A handwritten letter is good enough for me.”
I feel the sentimental smile that comes to my face, which is certainly a rare occurrence. Most of my memories, even the ones reminiscent of happier days—particularly those—don’t tend to make me feel warm and fuzzy. But unlike my parents and grandfather, Mona is still here with me as dependable as ever.
Perhaps that’s why I feel
