The Power Trip

‘I can,’ Taye had retorted with a lavicious grin.

‘Oh, I know that,’ she’d replied.

And he’d known without a doubt that tonight he was definitely getting lucky.

* * *

Watching Xuan grill Aleksandr was quite entertaining. It wasn’t until Xuan had started her inquisition that Flynn had come to hear of the charitable deeds the rich Russian was capable of: the man was full of surprises. Now he was aware that Aleksandr had a charitable side, there were many things Flynn thought he might discuss with him. For instance, would Aleksandr be prepared to sponsor the building of a school in Ethiopia for orphans who’d lost their parents in the ongoing war? It was a project that had been on Flynn’s mind for a while, but raising the money was almost impossible. He was in weekly contact with people who were prepared to build and organize everything, but lack of funds was the big hold-up. One school. Surely that wasn’t too much for Aleksandr to manage?

Flynn decided that before the trip was over, it was his duty to ask.

Aleksandr was obviously intrigued by Xuan; they hadn’t stopped talking on the flight. Finally — after landing — Bianca had emerged from the bedroom, and she and Aleksandr had left the plane together, followed by Aleksandr’s ever-present bodyguard, Kyril.

‘I wish to take Bianca to the yacht first,’ Aleksandr told Flynn. ‘A car will come for you and Xuan shortly.’

So Flynn was left with Xuan, who couldn’t wait to inform him that Aleksandr Kasianenko was a far more interesting man than he’d led her to believe.

‘I didn’t lead you to believe anything,’ Flynn objected.

‘Yes, you did,’ Xuan insisted. ‘You told me he was an obscenely rich oligarch with no conscience.’

‘Bullshit,’ Flynn said, laughing. ‘I never said that.’

‘Well, that’s the impression I got.’

‘Then you should listen more carefully.’

‘Anyway,’ Xuan said, smoothing back her long hair. ‘I find him to be an extremely knowledgeable man.’

Flynn raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You do?’

‘Yes, I do. Although I cannot imagine what he sees in that rude spoiled creature he’s with.’

Flynn felt argumentative. ‘What makes you think Bianca’s spoiled?’

‘Did you see the way she behaved?’ Xuan said. ‘Sulking like a teenager. I can’t stand that kind of woman. They imagine their beauty excuses them from everything.’

‘I think we caught them mid-argument,’ Flynn noted.

‘Perhaps. But in my opinion, a man like Aleksandr deserves better.’

Flynn broke into a smile. ‘I do believe my little Xuan has a crush,’ he teased.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she snapped.

‘These things happen,’ he said lightly. ‘Even to you.’

‘My goodness, Flynn, having sex with someone you like has taken away your better sense of judgment.’

‘And so she turns the tables,’ Flynn said.

‘And so he starts speaking in cliches,’ Xuan shot back.

‘I have to say that you and Aleksandr would make an interesting couple,’ Flynn observed.

‘Oh, please,’ Xuan said, dismissing his comments with a shake of her head. ‘The man is taken, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

So she did like him. Flynn was amused at the thought of Xuan and Aleksandr together. It would be the mis-match of the century. The Russian oligarch and the militant Asian girl. What a fun combination that could turn out to be.

* * *

Guy, the entertainment director from the yacht, personally met Cliff Baxter and his girlfriend at the airport. A gay, personable Australian, Guy was used to dealing with celebrities, and it was his wish to make the couple feel as comfortable as possible from the get-go.

‘The name’s Guy,’ he said, offering Cliff a firm handshake. ‘It’s a pleasure to welcome you, Mr Baxter.’

‘It’s a pleasure to be welcomed,’ Cliff responded, his famous movie-star smile thrilling every woman who hovered within ten feet of him.

‘I’m Lori,’ Lori said, asserting herself.

‘Welcome, ma’am,’ Guy said, reaching for her carry-on bag. ‘Allow me to help you with that.’

‘Certainly,’ Lori said, trying to decide if he was gay or not. He was certainly nice-looking, tall and muscular with bleached white hair worn in a spiky cut, crinkly pale blue eyes, and a deep suntan.

‘Follow me,’ Guy said, attempting not to stare at Cliff Baxter, who was just as handsome in person as he was on the screen. ‘Your luggage will be taken care of. I have a car waiting. And Mr Kasianenko wanted me to tell you that he is delighted you are here.’

* * *

The Luttmans supplied a white Bentley to take Luca and Jeromy to join the Kasianenko yacht. After his nighttime sexual adventures with the Luttmans, Jeromy was quite hung-over. He hadn’t drank that much — was there such a thing as a sexual hangover? Yes. And Jeromy was proof that it existed.

Between the two of them and their sexual perversions, the Luttmans had worn him out. Jeromy had always been partial to a walk on the wild side, but the Luttmans were something else. He almost blushed at the memories.

Luca was his usual handsome, cheerful, blond-god self. Jeromy wondered what Luca would say if he ever found out about the sexual shenanigans that had taken place the previous evening. Luca would probably be shocked. He might be gay, but in Jeromy’s world he was an innocent gay with very limited experience. You suck my cock, I’ll suck yours. Plus a certain amount of mild penetration on special occasions.

It was no wonder that Jeromy had to venture elsewhere to get real satisfaction.

‘I can’t wait to relax and get away from everything,’ Luca said now. ‘How about you?’

‘I must say that being on the Kasianenko yacht sounds like the perfect getaway,’ Jeromy agreed, adjusting his dark glasses so they hid what surely must be hideous bags under his eyes. He longed to pat haemorrhoid cream around his eyes before falling into a deep and most welcome sleep.

Alas, that would have to wait until later, because right now he had the role of attentive boyfriend to play, and nobody played it better than Jeromy Milton-Gold.

* * *

‘We’re here.’ Hammond nudged his wife awake as the plane landed. ‘Try to look a little less miserable and for crissake put on a smile,’ he said, his tone a sharp command. ‘Do not forget these people are all future contributors to my campaign, so attempt to sparkle.’

Did Hammond just instruct her to sparkle? Was that what he expected?

Yes.

Or what?

Or he’d regale her with his threats again. Threats against her family. Threats he assured her on an almost daily basis he could definitely arrange to have carried out.

Sierra plastered on a fixed smile and prepared herself for the inevitable.

The Senator’s wife.

A good wife.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

After exploring the luxurious yacht and falling in love with every aspect of it, especially the opulent master