Kiss Heaven Goodbye Part 5

Bradley nodded back towards the house. 'I've got beers in my room just up there in the staff quarters if you're interested.'

She looked him up and down.

He is cute, she thought, emboldened by most of a bottle of champagne and a snort of c.o.ke. she thought, emboldened by most of a bottle of champagne and a snort of c.o.ke. Sod Miles if he can't be bothered to wonder where I am. Why the h.e.l.l not? Sod Miles if he can't be bothered to wonder where I am. Why the h.e.l.l not?

'You're on, cowboy,' she said, boldly looping her arm through his and walking up the path.

The staff accommodation was all behind the main house. Nelson had an attractive Creole house of his own close to Richmond Cove while Puerto, the head chef, whose job it was to keep Angel stocked with the best food and wine, was in a small annexe. The rest of the cooks, cleaners and groundsmen were housed in a long row of one-storey wooden cabins hidden behind a line of banana trees. Sasha was glad that Bradley's cabin was at the end of the row. For all her rebellion, she didn't really want anyone to see her slumming it, but there were no lights on in the neighbouring cabins.

'I've got my own room. Some of these cabins have got three sous chefs in them at the moment.'

'So how come you got your own s.p.a.ce, new boy?' she whispered.

'Charm.' He grinned.

The cabin was basic. Just a narrow single bed and side table, wardrobe and chest of drawers. They both sat on the bed and Bradley twisted the top off a beer and handed it to her.

'So tell me, Sasha Sinclair,' he said with a smile. 'What are you doing all alone by the boathouse when everyone else is having a great time on the beach?'

She shrugged and looked away. She knew it was wrong to be here, but this boy was looking at her as if he desired her.

'Where's your glamorous boyfriend?' he persisted.

'You tell me,' she huffed.

'Uh-oh,' he said. 'Lovers' tiff?'

'More like my boyfriend just doesn't appreciate me.'

'How does that happen with someone as beautiful as you?'

It was cheesy and transparent, but Sasha liked hearing the flattery nonetheless. She could see pure s.e.xual attraction in his eyes, whereas Miles looked at her like she was an embarra.s.sment. A wave of defiance surged up in her. Miles had behaved disgracefully this evening; all holiday in fact. How dare he? Sasha Sinclair was the most popular girl at Danehurst, she had an Elan Models contract, and one day the whole world would know her name. f.u.c.k Miles, f.u.c.k them all.

'Hey, what have you done to your cheek?' she asked, lifting a finger to touch the red mark.

'Just a burn. Don't touch it.' He caught hold of her finger, then held it, looking at her for a long exquisite second. Up close, he was even better-looking, with thick lashes, and lips the colour of Scottish raspberries. Looking back later at what little she could remember of the evening, she could never pinpoint why suddenly, as if someone had flicked a switch, she was kissing him; softly at first, getting deeper and harder, so their teeth clinked, tongues tasting lipstick and beer.

Bradley drew away, looking stunned, anxious, elated, then taking her face in his hands he kissed her more softly, as if every taste was like nectar. Sasha felt a s.h.i.+ver of antic.i.p.ation as a sense of danger rippled through her. Miles had never taken his time in their love-making; he always seemed keen to get it over with. Gently, Bradley lowered her down on to the narrow bed. He was firm but unhurried, discovering her kiss by kiss, his urgent breath in her ear, his warm lips on her cheek, her throat. Without thinking, fuelled by anger and desire, she pulled her dress over her head and unclasped her bra. He paused for a moment to take in her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, ripe and full, cupping them in his hands, then lowered his lips to taste each beige nipple in turn, sucking, savouring them as they grew hard and swollen in his mouth. His need was turning her on and she tugged off his T-s.h.i.+rt, grazing his chest with her long nails. Unlike Miles' slim, effete limbs, Bradley's arms were thick and strong from lugging boats and pulling ropes, his hands rough on her tanned skin. Unb.u.t.toning his shorts, she pulled them off over his thighs. He had a tattoo of the sun on his hip-bone which she stroked with her fingertip.

She reclined on her back. His tongue connected with her belly, heading down towards her navel as her spine rose in an arc. She moaned as his thumbs peeled down her thong, spreading her legs as he pushed two fingers inside her, in, out, in sweet rhythm.

She groaned as his mouth swept down over her damp pubic hair and as his tongue connected with her c.l.i.toris, pleasure pulsed around her body with an intensity she had never before experienced.

Miles never did this. Never.

His c.o.c.k was inside her now, pus.h.i.+ng into her with hard strokes, his eyes shut tight, his hands clenching and rucking the sheets. He was fit, keen, hungry. Her arms flung behind her head, she spread her legs wider and felt him slide so far into her, so deep, she felt as if she might tear in two.

As the tense block of pressure in her belly slowly released, she grabbed his hair and screamed out, 'Yes, yes. Yes!' Oh G.o.d, this is what great s.e.x feels like Oh G.o.d, this is what great s.e.x feels like. And then it was over, his spent body buckling and then collapsing on to hers. Her tawny flesh glistening with sweat, she lay back on the mattress trying to catch her breath, and as the pa.s.sion subsided, reality rushed back in.

Underneath her thighs a damp patch on the sheet felt ice-cold against her skin. What had she just done?

Miles Ashford was her boyfriend. He was one of the world's most eligible bachelors; had she thrown away a life of luxury for a quick f.u.c.k with a boat boy? A quick f.u.c.k without a condom. Where the h.e.l.l was she supposed to get the morning-after pill on a private island?

'I'd better get back,' she said.

'So soon?' His fingers touched her bare back and she flinched. Naked, she felt more than just exposed, she felt vulnerable.

'I'll be missed,' she said, picking up her Dior bra, part of a set that Miles had bought her for Christmas.

Sasha's back was towards Bradley as she hurriedly dressed, but she could feel his eyes on her. Finally she smoothed down her dress and glanced at him. Her head was spinning. 'You're not going to say anything about this, are you?'

He paused for a moment. 'Who to?'

'To Miles, to anyone,' she said, her heart pounding in panic.

Bradley just stared at her.

'Well?' Her tone was brusque and irritable and she immediately regretted it. She was usually so expert at manipulating men, but right now she was spooked, nervous. She knew she had made a mistake that could cost her dear. She wasn't used to being on the back foot.

'What's the matter?' she said, turning towards him. 'Why aren't you saying anything?'

He shrugged. 'Disappointment,' he said, eyes challenging hers. 'What happened just now ... I thought we had a connection.'

She scoffed inwardly. A connection A connection.'What do you expect happens now, Bradley?' she asked pointedly. 'I'll go out with you? We'll have a nice little holiday romance?'

'Maybe not, but I don't expect you to get up and walk away the second I've come inside you.'

'We're drunk.' She flinched. 'I have a boyfriend. And that's where I am going right now. To find him.'

He paused, then gave a low, shallow laugh. 'I know where your boyfriend is.'

She looked at him sharply. There was an edge to his laugh she didn't like.

'Where?' she asked quietly.

'Making out by Paradise Cove with his boyfriend. You know, the tall good-looking one.'

Her heart was beating hard now. 'What? What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?'

'I caught them together and that's how I got this,' said Bradley, pointing to the burn on his cheek. 'Your boyfriend stubbed his cigarette out on my face because he didn't like what I had seen.'

Sasha felt cold all over. It was unthinkable, but there was a distant, unpalatable ring of truth in Bradley's words that chilled her to the core.

'You're lying.'

Bradley shook his head slowly. 'Your boyfriend's queer, Sasha.' 'You're lying!' she yelled.

She closed her eyes tight. It couldn't be true.

But it is, isn't it? said a calm, insistent voice in her head. said a calm, insistent voice in her head.

No, it was just a poisonous lie dreamt up by some low-rent gigolo who wanted to strike back when he found out there would be no repeat performance. It was!

The inner voice mocked her. You know it's true. You know it's true.

'My boyfriend is not gay,' she said, fighting to control her voice. 'It's a ridiculous idea.'

'Whatever,' said Bradley sourly, not even looking at her.

She moved towards the door, then turned back. 'You never answered my question.'

'Which one?' he said with a note of insolence.

Right then, she hated him. Her body boiled with fury at this jumped-up n.o.body who had tricked her into bed. She clenched her hands into fists, using every ounce of willpower to control herself.

'You're not going to say anything to anyone about this.'

He looked up at her with contempt. 'You're all the same, your type,' he spat. 'You use people and then get rid of them at your convenience.'

'I mean it, Bradley,' said Sasha, her voice quivering with anger and frustration. 'Don't even think of breathing a word about what just happened...'

'Or what?' asked Bradley.

'Or you'll regret it,' she said, staring at him with cold fury. Then she opened the door and slammed it behind her with such force, the entire cabin shook.

7

Grace wasn't enjoying the party. It was almost 2.30 and she knew she should have gone to bed hours ago. There were over a dozen people on the beach, but the guests were outnumbered by the steel band, chefs and waiters keeping the unending supply of drink and food coming. Only Angus, Sarah, Gabby and herself were sitting by the bonfire and the previous high spirits had long since disappeared. Grace popped a final toasted marshmallow into her mouth brought to her on a silver tray, naturally and stood up unsteadily.

'Where are you going?' asked Sarah. 'I thought we were trying to stay up for one last sunrise.'

'I'm just going for a walk. I want to try and sober up a bit or I'll feel terrible for the flight back tomorrow.'

Sarah ran after her as she walked up the sand.

'Are you really feeling ill or are you just trying to torture yourself? '

'What do you mean?'

'Well, you might find Alex and Freya in flagrante behind the sand dunes.'

Grace felt unusually irritable. 'Why are you talking in Latin? You're not a lawyer yet, you know.'

Sarah raised her brows.'Touchy,' she said and Grace tried to smile.

'I'm not torturing myself,' she replied quickly. 'Freya will want the luxury of soft cotton sheets, not some gritty sand dune. Anyway, I'm not bothered. I'm really not.'

'He's only eighteen, after all,' said Sarah more kindly. 'Probably a bit immature. There're many more fish in the sea.'

Grace nodded as convincingly as she could. 'I just need to walk off the drink. It's a long flight back home.'

Sarah eyed her sceptically. 'You sure?'

Grace nodded. 'I'll be fine.'

Catseye Beach was the longest on the island, a half-mile stretch of sand that shone like a silver ribbon in front of her. It got quieter and darker as she left the bonfire behind and Grace welcomed the isolation. Sarah had been right: the last thing she wanted was to catch Freya and Alex at it in the sand dunes, and she didn't want to go back to the house because Freya's room was next to hers.

What a cow, she thought angrily. Freya was supposed to be her friend! It was bad enough that she had been flirting with Grace's father at dinner but what she had done with Alex was nothing short of a betrayal. she thought angrily. Freya was supposed to be her friend! It was bad enough that she had been flirting with Grace's father at dinner but what she had done with Alex was nothing short of a betrayal. She knew I was interested, we talked about it earlier on She knew I was interested, we talked about it earlier on, she thought. Freya had never shown an interest in Alex before. Maybe that was it, maybe Freya just wanted to prove she could pull Alex. For some people friends.h.i.+p didn't matter; everything was just a game. It was all about power, survival of the fittest.

And that was the real reason Grace was angry; she was angry at herself. She'd tried her best by the pool, inviting him on to the tiki swing, letting her kaftan slip off one shoulder ... She cringed. But she was an amateur. Freya was obvious. Subtlety never won prizes not when it came to s.e.x and eighteen-year-old boys ...

She had reached the end of the beach now and climbed inland through a thicket of red and black mangrove. The dark didn't frighten her; she felt completely at home on the island and loved its remoteness from the world. As a child, she would pretend she was some character in Lord of the Flies Lord of the Flies and spend whole days exploring on her own, looking for sea turtles or exotic flowers. and spend whole days exploring on her own, looking for sea turtles or exotic flowers.

She was walking up a steep path back towards the headland when she heard a rustle in the long gra.s.s next to her. Someone was sitting there, a familiar shape.

'Alex?' she hissed, squinting in the dark. 'Is that you?'

He sat up holding a cigarette and notebook in the strong moonlight.

'Writing some lyrics,' he said, a little embarra.s.sed.

Noting he was alone, Grace laughed, mainly from relief. 'How can you see what you're writing?'

'Can't really,' he said, flicking his lighter so she could see the blank page in his book.

'I see you've found your muse, then,' she said, sitting down beside him.

'Cheeky. These things take time,' he replied defensively. 'Keith Richards used to spend days writing songs without going to bed.'

'Ah, but didn't he have Mick Jagger to help him?' she said, all the time her mind repeating, Where's Freya? Where's Freya? Where's Freya? Where's Freya?

She took a deep breath. Just b.l.o.o.d.y ask him Just b.l.o.o.d.y ask him.

'Well, I didn't think I'd see you for the rest of the night, lover boy,' she said as casually as she could. Even in the moonlight, she caught the look of surprise on his face.

'What do you mean?'

'You and Freya.'

He gave a small laugh.'No, no, nooo...' he said.'Much too scary.'

Grace raised a sceptical eyebrow, but Alex shook his head.