Actually, on reflection, Sierra realized that she quite envied Sean. How relaxing to do nothing but sit on a beach all day and beg for handouts from your family.
‘I sent him five hundred two weeks ago,’ she said.
Clare’s frown deepened. ‘I thought we agreed that we weren’t sending him any more money.’
‘He told me that he had a dental problem and was in horrible pain. I couldn’t ignore him. What was I supposed to do?’
‘Oh my God, Sierra, you’re
‘Yes, I do know, but show some heart, Clare. He’s also our brother.’
‘I am not sending him one more red cent,’ Clare said, with a stubborn shake of her head. ‘I don’t care how much he begs. He’s a grown man, it’s about time he started acting like one. Furthermore,
‘I’m not enabling him,’ Sierra objected. ‘I’m helping him.’
‘No, you’re not helping him at all,’ Clare argued.
Sierra was too tired to fight with her sister. She had a strong urge to go home, crawl into bed and sleep. Depression was creeping over her like a black cloud, she could feel it coming on. Once life had held such shining promise. No more.
How had she allowed herself to reach such a miserable place?
Was it because she’d married Hammond?
They were all questions she could answer if she wanted to. However, it was simply easier to forget.
‘How old are you, dear?’ Hammond asked, leaning back in the chair behind his desk, his eyes inspecting every inch of the latest intern to join the staff.
Skylar blinked rapidly. She couldn’t believe that she was in Senator Patterson’s presence, that he actually knew she existed. It was all so exciting. Earlier that day she’d been introduced to Mrs Patterson, and now this!
‘Uh… I’m going to be nineteen next week,’ she said, fidgeting nervously. ‘And uh… may I say that it’s such an honour to be working here. I am a big admirer of yours, Senator, and of course your wife too.’
‘That’s nice,’ Hammond said, his honest brown eyes shifting into X-ray mode as he skilfully removed her clothes. He noted that she had large real breasts and wide hips. Not perfect like Sierra. Not a beauty, but attractive enough.
And she was young. He preferred them young.
As he sat behind his desk, he imagined placing his penis between her big breasts, then slowly moving up and coming all over her startled face.
After the initial shock, she would love it — they all did.
‘Well, Skylar,’ he said, pressing his fingers together, forming a little arc, ‘welcome to the team. We all believe in working together here. Sometimes late into the night.’ A long beat. ‘Does that bother you?’
‘Excuse me?’ Skylar said, still blinking.
‘Does working late bother you?’ Hammond asked patiently, thinking this one seemed a little slow.
‘No, no, not at all,’ Skylar said, full of enthusiasm. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’
Chapter Nineteen
Divorce is never easy, but Aleksandr Kasianenko was prepared to give Rushana, his wife of seventeen years and mother of his three daughters, whatever she wanted. Unfortunately, what Rushana wanted was to stay married to him, so she and her lawyer were making things as difficult as possible, unnecessarily so.
Aleksandr was beyond irritated. He had offered Rushana everything she could desire, and yet there always seemed to be another roadblock.
The divorce wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t planned on falling in love with Bianca, only it
Aleksandr was determined that on the forthcoming yacht trip he would propose to Bianca. He was doing it whether he was free or not. He’d already purchased the ring, a two-million-dollar rare emerald surrounded with diamonds. It was a ring fit for the woman he planned to marry. Bianca would love it, just as she loved him.
He’d never met a woman like Bianca before. So beautiful and yet so independent and strong. And passionate. In the bedroom she fulfilled him in every way.
Yes, Aleksandr enjoyed everything about her, although he could do without her fame. The pesky photographers who followed her everywhere. The annoying fans who had no sense of keeping their distance. The hangers-on who often surrounded her. And the Internet, where people made up ridiculous stories every single day.
After a year with his love, he’d learned to ignore the chaos around her. Bianca was his, and nothing could ever change that.
However, he would be lying if he said he didn’t relish the peace when Bianca was in another country. He could walk down the street unmolested, and be happy that there were no photographers trailing him.
His faithful bodyguard was always in attendance: Kyril, a solid brick of a man who watched his every move, for one could never be too careful. Aleksandr was well aware that he had enemies, it came with the territory. He was a billionaire businessman, who along the way had attracted his fair share of haters. People who were jealous of his wealth. Business rivals. His wife’s two needy brothers who felt that he should’ve done more for them. It wasn’t enough that he’d bought them both houses and given them jobs at which they’d both failed. Was he supposed to support their lazy asses forever?
No. With the divorce came freedom from Rushana’s clingy family.
The only regret Aleksandr had was that he was no longer living with his three daughters. They’d remained with their mother, and rightly so. He could see them whenever he wished to, but since they resided in his former home fifteen miles outside of Moscow, it wasn’t that easy to make the time.
He had yet to introduce them to Bianca, although in the following months he hoped to do so. It didn’t help that the last time he’d seen them, Mariska, his youngest, had said, ‘Mama told us you have an American whore girlfriend. What’s a whore, Poppa?’
Aleksandr was furious. Rushana had better learn to control her mouth. He would not stand for her insulting the love of his life.
After Madrid, Bianca headed for Paris and a full-out spending spree. She knew all the designers and they were delighted to accommodate her, because whenever Bianca was photographed in one of their outfits, sales soared. Bianca was adept at negotiating outrageous discounts, plus she also managed to get many things for free.
Her excitement was building about the trip. She had a feeling that something special was going to take place — she had no clue what, but knowing Aleksandr it would be major.
Bianca had legions of friends in Paris — mostly in the fashion business and mostly gay. She planned on flying on to Moscow the next day, but in the meantime she called several of her friends, and they all met up for drinks at the Plaza Athenee, before moving on for a decadent dinner at her favourite dining bistro, the well-established L’Ami Louis, where everyone pigged out on the heavenly potato cakes sauteed in duck fat, and the amazingly tender grilled beef. For dessert they indulged in dishes of wild strawberries piled high and topped with creme fraiche. It was a decadent feast.
Bianca ate everything. Usually she watched her diet, but tonight she felt like letting go.
After dinner her sometime hair stylist, Pierre, suggested they move on to a club. So they ended up at Amnesia, a mostly gay bar with incredible sounds.
