Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part Three (BWWM Romance Serial) (4 page)

She raked her fingernails down his back with the exact right
kind of pressure to make his nerves zing and nearly send him jumping out of his
swim trunks. She made several little “ah” sounds that drove him crazy. He
groaned.

He should hold back. Their first time shouldn’t be in a
jacuzzi, should it? Jada made another sound of satisfaction and crawled onto
his lap.

He cupped her rear and decided that as it turned out, the
jacuzzi was the perfect place for a first time. He reached for the ties on her
bikini bottom.

And then the lights came on.

Ian was temporarily blinded, the light was so bright. Jada
blinked, pulled backward and leapt off his lap. They both swiveled in the
direction of the door.

Marina and Sasha stood inside the doorway, looking almost as
surprised as Ian and Jada.

“Oh, we didn’t see you there,” Sasha said, recovering
speedily and giving them a saucy look. “Looks like we may have interrupted
something, Marina. Something hot and steamy, and I’m not talking about the
jacuzzi.”

“Oops!” was Marina’s response. “We should go. Sorry.”

Sasha sauntered into the room. “I don’t think so. It’s not
every day I get the chance to ruin Ian’s game.”

“Really?” Ian said drily. “It seems that you do lately.”

Marina lingered by the door, looking uncertain. Sasha
strolled over and changed the sexy music to a ramrod beating dance club number,
then pranced over to the jacuzzi, ditching her robe on the tiles as she went.
Looking svelte and sleek in a one piece suit, she slipped into the water beside
Ian.

“Ahh, that’s wonderful,” Sasha said, closing her eyes
briefly. “Marina told me you were turning in early, Jada. She didn’t mention
you had plans with your old man.”

Jada scampered away from Ian, putting a good foot between
them. “I didn’t. I mean, I did, but then I wound up here, and ... whatever.”

Marina came over to the jacuzzi. “Come on, Sasha. Let’s go
up to Deb’s room. She’s got a hot tub.”

“Oh, I know, but I’m all settled in here now.” She held out
a hand. “Could you hand me my snacks, please?”

Marina passed her a large baggie chocked full of Ian didn’t
know what, though he guessed it was freshly made with much love by Mrs. Best.

Marina exchanged an apologetic glance with Jada, then doffed
her own robe and stepped into the jacuzzi between Sasha and Jada.

Sasha opened her baggie and began chowing down. “Yum.” She
sighed. “This is the best caramel corn in the universe. Want some?”

Everyone declined.

Sasha munched loudly. “Nothing hits the spot like something
sweet when it’s that time of the month, does it girls?”

Oh hell no, Ian thought. “On that note,” Ian said, “I’m off
to bed.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jada said, half-jumping up but slipping
on the wet edge and plopping back into the water with a splash.

Sasha snorted. “Damn, Ian, you get her liquored up again
tonight?”

“What?” Marina asked. “Again?”

“That’s right.” Sasha shoved a handful of popcorn in her
mouth.

Ian bent down and whispered in Jada’s ear. “You stay. No
telling what she’ll say if you leave her here with your sister.”

Jada nodded. But she didn’t look happy about it.

Ian left the room, leaving behind the shattered remnants of
what had been a promising end to the day, but taking some comfort in the fact
that Jada wasn’t any more pleased about it than he was.

Tomorrow. There was always tomorrow. He’d make sure of it.

JADA WATCHED IAN WRAP HIMSELF in his robe and sighed in disappointment
at all that physical perfection being hidden behind terry-cloth. She sighed
again when he left the room.

“I guess he’s decent looking, for a man,” Sasha said. “It’s
kind of hard for me to see it, though, since he’s like a brother. That’s why I
make life as difficult for him as I can. It’s my kid sisterly duty. Marina gets
it, don’t you?”

“Great,” Jada said. “Both our kid sisters are out to keep us
apart.”

“I’m not!” Marina looked appalled. “Speak for yourself,
Sasha.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway,” Marina said, “we came here to talk about what’s
actually important. Now, Sasha, we need to go over your list of enemies.”

“What?” Jada asked, thinking her sister must have lost her
mind to be questioning the supermodel so blatantly.

“Oh, she knows everything. I told her.”

Jada goggled. “You didn’t.”

“I had to. It’s the best way to get her help. And she said
she’d keep it a secret. Didn’t you, Sasha?”

Sasha nodded, her mouth full of popcorn.

“That’s it. We need to tell Ian. There’s no way this will
stay a secret, not at this rate,” Jada said.

“Don’t tell Ian,” Sasha said.

Popcorn crumbs dropped from her lips and fingers and floated
on the water. Jada worried they might clog the jacuzzi filter, not that she
knew anything about filters, but still. It couldn’t be good to get popcorn bits
in them.

“He’ll get uptight about it and probably blow up,” Sasha
added. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt Marina.”

“I can’t imagine Ian blowing up, not over this, anyway,”
Jada said. “It was an honest mistake and Ian’s a reasonable man.”

“Sure, you’d think so,” Sasha said. “But let’s say I’ve
known him for years, and you’ve known him for what? Two days. Who do you think
knows him better?”

Jada couldn’t argue with that, though she wanted to. No
matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture Ian getting upset over what
amounted to a mistake. Sure, Marina had lied after the fact, but not for long,
and she was sorry about it.

Jada was disconcerted by Sasha’s opinion about Ian. She only
half listened to the answers Sasha gave to Marina’s questions regarding
possible enemies.

From what she gathered while trying to imagine Ian in the
role of out-of-control jerk, Sasha had a handful of minor enemies, but didn’t
think any of them hated her enough to go to so much trouble to try to hurt her.

Marina kept turning the conversation to a model named Freya
Volker. According to Marina, gossip magazines had reported numerous tiffs
between the two at various fashion shows and events over the last few years.

Sasha insisted she and Freya resolved their issues long ago.
“The gossips exaggerated the situation. We’re friends now. No need to waste
time investigating her. We’re better off focusing on Esmer Granger and Petra
Sukolova. Those two are grade A bitches and run as a pair. They once put oil on
the soles of my shoes at a Betsy Johnson show. I love Betsy Johnson. We did
cartwheels together.”

Marina said she remembered reading the story about Sasha
falling on the runway. “The press didn’t say anything about oil on your shoes.”

“Petra’s daddy is a huge Russian mobster,” Sasha said.
“Would you say unkind things about his darling daughter in your newspaper?”

“Probably not.” Marina appeared to think. “Do you have a
number for Esmer? Or Petra? I’d like to call and ask them a few questions.”

“Nope. And I don’t recommend it,” Sasha said. She drew a
line across her throat with her manicured fingertip. “Seriously. Those people
play for keeps. They’re not like the rest of us. And anyway, the more we talk
about this, the less I think another model could be out to get me.”

“Why?” Marina asked.

“You may not realize this, but models don’t have a lot of
energy. They spend most of their free time sleeping.”

“Why?” Jada asked.

Sasha chewed a big mouthful of popcorn and swallowed. “They
keep this pretty hush-hush, but the truth is, most models hardly ever eat.”

Marina looked about as shocked by Sasha’s big secret as Jada
herself was—in other words, not surprised at all.

“They only eat a bite here and there,” Sasha continued. “Who
can have energy when your body doesn’t have fuel? I have lots of energy because
I eat and eat and eat. All day long, and sometimes I get up in the night and
eat more. I have to do it, or I get too skinny. And I don’t have to worry over
my skin and hair the way other models do, either, because I get plenty of
nutrients from my food. I never get breakouts or anything like that. I don’t
even get split ends. I’m always telling my fellow models that they should
follow my example if they want to simplify their lives.”

“Gee,” Marina said. “Gorgeous and rail thin without even
trying. I’m guessing you don’t have many women friends.”

Sasha shrugged and raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. “I
have lots of girlfriends, but not the way you mean. Anyway, my metabolism can
be a real pain, except when I’m around Mrs. Best.”

“I’m sorry you have such a terrible burden to bear,” Marina
said.

“You’re a smartass,” Sasha said. “I like you.”

“Right back at you. Now, returning to the topic of enemies.
So what if other models don’t eat or sleep? What has that got to do with
anything?”

“It’s obvious.” Sasha looked at Jada. “You get it, don’t
you?”

“Not really.”

Sasha made a sound that communicated how slow witted Jada
and Marina were. “They couldn’t have pulled this thing off, see? They’re too
tired all the time, and they hardly ever think straight because they’re woozy
and always obsessing over what they can’t eat. Whoever did this had to have
been someone creative and clever. You have to admit that it’s pretty clever.
None of the hater models I know could have pulled it off.”

“Then how about someone who doesn’t like you but isn’t a
model? Got any enemies like that? Old girlfriends? Jilted lovers?” Marina
asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sasha said. “This is hard.”

Marina looked like she was going to argue the point, but
movement at the doorway drew everyone’s attention. It was Agatha Brimgore.

Agatha was dressed in a black swimsuit from the sixties, the
one piece kind with a little belt around the waist. Instead of her towering
beehive hairdo, she wore a swim cap covered in floppy, multi-colored fabric
flowers. The same flowers decorated the tops of the flip flips she wore on her
long, skinny feet.

Jada and Marina shared a look, and Jada knew exactly what
her sister was thinking. Damn, those were some scrawny, blinding-white legs
there. Agatha looked like a starving chicken with a bouquet on its head. Jada
hid a grin behind her hand.

Agatha immediately killed the music at the comm unit. The
silence made her voice seem louder than ever as it echoed through the room. “I
don’t know how you listen to that trash. You’ll be deaf before you’re thirty.
I’ll find some nice Perry Como or Johnny Mathis.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sasha said. “You know our deal. You don’t
have to listen to my dance music and I don’t have to listen to music sung by
anyone who’s dead.”

Agatha looked heavenward as if seeking assistance from her
poor, deceased crooners. “I don’t know how I got a daughter with such an
underdeveloped sense of style.”

Marina snickered and said under her breath. “A supermodel
without style.”

“Fine,” Agatha said. “We’ll go with the semi-decent modern
stuff then. Michael Bublé it is.”

Sasha reached over and picked up Jada’s cocktail. “Can I
have this?”

Jada had forgotten about it. “Sure.”

Sasha downed the drink in a few gulps.

When Agatha walked toward the jacuzzi, Jada noticed a
movement behind her, something small, skulking next to the wall and trying to
stay hidden. It was Ms. Kitty. Jada smiled, not having seen her cat in a while.

She was behaving oddly. Agatha’s flip-flops slapped against
the tiles as she walked, the fabric flowers undulating and flopping around with
each step. It looked like Ms. Kitty was watching those feet. Was the cat
stalking Agatha?

Ms. Kitty shadowed the woman all the way to the jacuzzi.
When Agatha slipped out of her flip-flops and slid into the water, Ms. Kitty’s
stare stayed on the shoes. Ah, so that was it.

“Oh look,” Sasha said. “It’s Cat. Hi, Cat. Where have you
been? Want some popcorn?”

“She probably shouldn’t eat popcorn,” Jada said.

Sasha shrugged. “Well, it’s all I’ve got. It’s not like I
carry mice around with me. Doesn’t matter though. Don’t look now, Agatha, but I
think Cat’s hunting your shoes.”

“What?” Agatha swiveled to look backward at her shoes. “Oh
no you don’t, you nasty feline.” She snatched up the flip-flops and held them
over her head. “These are serious vintage wear. I can’t just pick up another
pair at SuperDiscountLand, you know.”

“I don’t think she cares about your shoes’ provenance,” Jada
said, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Yeah,” Sasha said, “cats don’t care about labels and stuff.
And they always do what they want. That’s why I like them.”

“What would you know about it?” Agatha asked, her head
waggling. “You’ve never had a cat.” She waved the shoes at Ms. Kitty. “Look at
‘em and weep, foul feline. You’re never getting them.”

Ms. Kitty stood up from her crouched position, arched her
back, hair raising on end from neck to base of tail. She hissed at Agatha,
baring her needle-sharp teeth.

“Hey, I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Marina said,
“but I have some experience with that cat, and you don’t want to piss her off.”

Agatha continued to shake her shoes and waggle her head.
“Here, kitty, kitty. Can’t touch this. Nasty creature.”

Jada watched the crazy woman, watched her infuriated cat.
This was a disaster in the making. “Stop that, Agatha. She’s getting mad, and
I’m afraid she’s going to p—”

Pounce. Just then, if anyone had blinked they would have
missed it, Ms. Kitty reared back and pounced, sailing gracefully through the
air, straight toward the gloating Agatha.

In the split second it took the furry creature to soar the
distance between herself and her antagonist, everything became clear to Jada.
Ms. Kitty was no longer interested in the shoes; she’d changed focus to
Agatha’s flowery cap. Because Agatha was waggling her head, she’d put its
multitude of floppy flowers in motion, and this had made it much more
interesting to Ms. Kitty than the shoes.

Jada opened her mouth to warn Agatha, but it was too late.
Ms. Kitty was already there, easily reaching Agatha’s head since she was
sitting in the sunken jacuzzi and was hardly above floor level.

Ms. Kitty landed shy of the woman who only now registered
the danger she was in. Her eyes widened comically as the cat attacked, striking
out with one paw, claws fully extended, snagging onto the fabric flowers. She
yanked backward violently. The cap was slightly dislodged before the claws
sliced through the delicate flowers and retracted.

Agatha dropped the precious flip-flops into the jacuzzi and
moved to grab onto her swim cap, but it was too late. Ms. Kitty swept a second
paw high and wide, snagging one of the flowers at the bottom edge of the cap.
She yanked her paw back, and this time, took the entire cap with her, pulling
it neatly off Agatha’s head. Ms. Kitty chomped onto it, biting with the gusto
that comes from predatory victory.

Agatha stared in open-mouthed horror, touched her bare head.
Jada tried not to laugh, but she could hardly hold it back. Agatha’s thin brown
hair was plastered to her scalp with dozens of crisscrossed bobby pins. Without
her towering beehive hairpieces or floppy swim cap, Agatha Chicken looked
practically plucked.

It wasn’t funny, though, when Agatha launched into a shriek
to end all shrieks. High pitched and deafening, her shrill outrage bounced off
the water and around the room, echoing in the high-ceilinged space.

Ms. Kitty was outraged anew by the terrible aural assault,
the hair on her back going vertical. Jada hardly heard Sasha telling her mother
to calm down. She was too busy watching Ms. Kitty.

“That cat attacked me!” Agatha shrieked, pointing a finger
at Ms. Kitty. “She’s destroying my cap! It’s vintage. Irreplaceable! Vintage!
Give me that back, vicious feline!”

“Hey now, she’s not that bad. You can’t blame her,” Marina
said, surprising Jada with her defense since Marina normally didn’t care much
for Ms. Kitty.

“Get her off of it!” Agatha wailed.

Ms. Kitty had heard enough. She raised her head, turned and
stalked away, the flowery cap trailing the floor between her legs as if she
were a lion dragging away a fresh kill on the Serengeti.

If Agatha’s first shriek had been deafening, this one could
have shattered glass. Jada feared they weren’t safe under the glass skylights.

“Stop her! She’s getting away! Thief!” Agatha cried.

Jada leapt up out of the jacuzzi. “I’ll get it back, don’t
worry,” she said, scampering after Ms. Kitty. “I’m so sorry,” she offered,
though there was no way the angry woman heard her.

Ms. Kitty meanwhile had picked up speed, which she only
accomplished in fits and starts because she couldn’t get far before tripping
over the cap. Still, she was faster than Jada, and managed to scurry out the
door before Jada could snag her.

Jada glanced back at the trio in the jacuzzi.

Sasha was patting her mother’s back and trying to calm her,
telling her that the cat wasn’t evil and wasn’t trying to kill her when she
stole the cap. Marina looked like she was torn between laughing and drowning
herself to get some relief from all the noise.

Jada caught Sasha’s eye. “I’ll find Ms. Kitty and get the
cap, I promise. I’ll send Elly with it. Probably best if Ms. Kitty and I turn
in. See you tomorrow.”