“I’ve been here once before. It’s very private; the phone number is unlisted, and in order to get your first reservation, a former guest has to recommend you. It’s practically a club.”
“I like the clubhouse,” Stone said, looking around, “and I can’t wait to start the program.”
“Looks like we’re starting now,” Betty said, nodding toward an approaching young woman, who was wearing a short cotton robe.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Southard,” she said, “and to you, Mr. Smith. Your mud bath is ready.”
“Mud bath?” Stone repeated.
“Shut up and do as you’re told,” Betty said. “I apologize for Mr. Smith,” she said to the young woman. “He’s a New Yorker, and he’s experiencing culture shock.”
“That’s quite all right,” the woman replied. “He’s not our first New Yorker. They seem to loosen up after the mud bath.”
Stone stood up. “Do with me as you will,” he said.
24
The young woman led them down a flagstone path rimmed with dense desert plantings for a hundred yards, then opened a high bamboo gate. They were outdoors, except for the bamboo screen through which they had entered, and a thatched roof that kept off the strong sun. Under the roof were two rectangular tubs, carved from stone and filled with steaming, bubbling mud.
“I’ll take your clothes,” the young woman said. “By the way, my name is Lisa.”
“How do you do, Lisa?” Stone said, stripping off his clothes and handing them to her. Betty did the same, and with Lisa’s help, they lowered themselves into the tubs.
“I’ll take your clothes to your suite, and I’ll return in half an hour,” Lisa said. She set two pitchers, one of iced water, the other of lemonade, on a stool between them, along with paper cups. “If you get too warm, drink something, or just get out of the tub.” She took their clothes and left.
Stone found that the bottom of the tub was contoured to fit his body, and after the initial shock of the heat, he settled in. The two of them lay in the mud for half an hour, melting, relaxing, not speaking, until Lisa returned.
“I think that’s enough,” she said. “We wouldn’t want you to shrivel up.”
They climbed out of the tubs and stood on a slab of stone while Lisa washed them down with cool water to remove the mud.
“Who will be first for a massage?” Lisa asked.
“You go first, Stone,” Betty answered. “I want to take a walk.” She left the hut, naked.
Lisa took Stone’s hand and led him to a padded table behind the mud baths. She directed him to lie on his stomach, with his face in an opening for breathing, then, using heated, scented oils, began massaging his back, shoulders, legs, and buttocks. After half an hour she asked him to turn over.
Stone turned over, expecting her to cover his genitals with a towel, but she did not. Lisa began with his neck, face and scalp, then covered his eyes with a cool cloth and worked her way down his body. Stone found himself becoming tumescent and squirmed a little.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Lisa said. “I’d be hurt if you weren’t feeling just a little excited.”
“More than a little,” Stone breathed.
She laughed. “Good. I’d take advantage, but I have the feeling that your friend would kill us both.”
“I believe you’re right,” Stone said. He heard the bamboo door open and close, but he could see nothing. Suddenly, Lisa’s hands were cooler and much more explorative. “Lisa?” he said.
“Shhhh,” came the reply.
Stone felt her climb onto the table with him, and in a moment, she was sitting astride him.
“Lisa, I’m saying myself for Betty,” Stone said.
Betty burst out laughing. “That was a politic thing to say. Now be quiet; there are things I want to do with you.”
She brought him fully erect, then lifted herself and came down gently upon him.
Stone made little noises. The dry, warm desert air, the soft breeze, and the girl on top of him seemed to be all he had ever wanted in the world. They took each other noisily, then collapsed. After a few minutes, Betty led him to a futon overlooking the valley to the south. She kissed him sweetly, then returned to the table and the waiting Lisa for her own massage.
Stone drifted into a dreamless sleep.
An hour later, Betty crawled onto the futon with him, and they made love again, less urgently this time, slowly and more sweetly. When they had recovered, Betty tugged at his hand. “I want a swim,” she said. “Come with me.”
Protesting mildly, Stone allowed himself to be drawn back up the path, naked, toward the pool. It occurred to him that he had not been nude in front of this many people since the showers at the police academy, where the circumstances were less inviting. He dove into the pool and swam a couple of lazy laps, with Betty alongside him.
“Feel like some tennis?” she asked when they stopped.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to get all tensed up again after all this relaxation. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is good.” she replied.
They lay naked on lounges beside the pool and drank exotic fruit juices and watched the other guests go by.
“Anybody you know?” Stone asked.
“Not a soul, and that’s fine with me.”
“Me, too,” he said. The last thing he wanted was to run into somebody either of them knew.
Betty caught him glancing furtively at a very beautiful girl as she walked past, naked. “It’s all right to look,” she said, “but don’t touch.”
They dressed for dinner and dined at sunset on some of the best food Stone had ever tasted, and he chose a wonderful cabernet from an outstanding list of California wines. He noticed that other couples were gravitating toward a terrace adjoining the dining room, and when they were done, Stone and Betty joined them. Soon a fireworks display began and went on for a quarter of an hour. The deep desert night was shattered by bright explosions and dazzling trails of light. When it was over, everybody drifted away, and soon the area was deserted. Stone and Betty were the last to leave, walking hand in hand to their suite.
The following morning they played tennis, and Betty turned out to be very good indeed.
“I’ll bet you beat most of the men you play with,” Stone said when they had finished.
“I beatall the men I play with,” Betty replied, tossing him a towel.
They had lunch, and Betty said it was time to leave. “They like everybody out by midafternoon, so they can get ready for the new week and give the staff some time off.”
“I’ll get the bill,” Stone said.
“It’s on me,” she replied.
“It’s too expensive; let’s at least share it.”
“I’ll take it out in sex,” she said, laughing.
“IOU.”
“You bet your ass you do.”
When Stone had driven down the mountain and they were back on the road to L.A., he started to ask questions. “I’m sorry, but I have to,” he said. “What did Vance say to you on Friday?”
“Not much, which is unusual,” she replied. “He came in at mid-morning and shut himself up in his office, told me to hold all calls.”
“Who called?”
“Lou Regenstein, but not the other two,” she said. “I know that’s what you wanted to know.”
“Was Vance there all day?”
“He didn’t leave until late afternoon; had lunch at his desk. It was very unlike him. Normally, he’d have lunch
