Passion's Mistral

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Passion’s Mistral Copyright© 2005 Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“You’re kidding, right?” Silkie Trevor gasped, her eyes wide.

Ross Bennis shook his head. “I don’t joke about things like this, Trevor. Not when it comes to making

five large.”

Silkie leaned forward and put the palms of her hands on Bennis’ desk. “Well, I won’t do it,” she stated

from between clenched teeth.

Bennis grinned, his drooping jowls making his face appear even wider than normal. “I’ve got four

operatives, Trevor. Three have dicks. You’re the only one who doesn’t.”

Her green eyes narrowed with fury, Silkie straightened to her full five-foot two-inch height. “That is a

sexist remark, Bennis, and I resent it.”

Bennis locked his fingers together, shifted his considerable bulk more comfortably in the leather chair and

shrugged. “Live with it. You’re the only one we can send,” he told her. “They only allow women at the

resort, no men, so that lets Schmitz, Little and Hotchkin out.” His beady gray eyes twinkled. “Except for

the guys who work there, there ain’t any other men on the Cay.”

“You mean gigolos, don’t you?” Silkie growled. “Boy toys who—”

“Listen,” Bennis interrupted, his grin dissolving. “The decision’s been made, Trevor. We’ve already cut

your ticket. You’ll leave tomorrow morning at eight forty and arrive at Mistral Cay around seven in the

evening. There will be a limo waiting to take you to the yacht that will then take you to the resort.” He

cracked his knuckles. “You’re going first class all the way, lady. Just consider it a well-deserved

vacation.”

“A vacation?” Silkie questioned. “In a nudist colony?”

“It’s called a naturist resort,” Bennis corrected.

“It’s a damned nudist colony!” Silkie said with a hiss. Her mouth twisted. “And an S&M nudist colony at

that! Don’t you think I looked it up on the web?”

Bennis cocked his head to one side. “You ashamed of your body, Trevor?”

“Hell, no, I’m not, but I’m not going to—”

“Then keep your goddamn clothes on,” Bennis said. “Nobody says you gotta strip and spread your legs

on this assignment, although I think you need your chassis oiled.” He chuckled at his own remark then

pressed his lips together.

“You’re a pervert,” Silkie accused.

“Nope,” Bennis disagreed. “Just an astute businessman who knows a good thing when he hears it. It’s

not like you’re gonna have to turn tricks to get the info we need.”

“And just how the hell do I get that info?” she asked from between tightly clenched teeth. “Am I

expected to walk up to every guy there and tell him to drop his pants so I can get a look at his thing?”

The twinkle in Bennis’ eye sparkled like a diamond under a bright light. “The birthmark ain’t on his thing,

Trevor. It’s at the base of the shaft, on the ball sac.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Silkie’s face flamed red and she looked away from her boss. “Hell,” she choked out, “that’s worse yet!

He’ll have to lift his thing up for me to look for the birthmark!”

“We can provide you with a cover that will make it easier for you to inspect your subjects,” a calm,

evenly modulated voice said from the other side of the room.

Silkie turned to look at Greg Strickland, the co-owner of Heartland Investigative Services and Bennis’

partner. Greg was only a year older than her but she respected his professionalism and the wisdom he

brought to the job. If Bennis was the pit bull of the outfit, Greg was the muzzle. Reclining on the office

loveseat, one arm draped across the back of the dark maroon leather, his pale blue shirt and khaki pants

contrasting nicely with the deep tan of his complexion, he presented a picture of confidence.

“Do you understand how humiliating this will be for me?” Silkie asked, pain reflecting in her green eyes.

Greg nodded. “Yes but Ross has already deposited Mrs. Lynden’s check and spent much of the retainer

on your ticket and reservations at the resort. The contract has been signed and delivered.” He turned his

level gaze to Bennis. “Had I been here, I would have voted to turn down the assignment but since Ross

gave the word of our company, despite how much I detest our involvement in this sordid affair, we must

make good that word.”

“Greg, I really don’t want to do this,” Silkie said and hated the whine in her voice.

“I realize that, Silkie, but as Ross pointed out, you are the only operative we have who can. Except for

the males working there, men aren’t allowed at the resort.”

Silkie’s chin dropped to her chest, a sure sign of her surrender. Drawing in a long, deep breath, she put

her hands on her hips and stood there, shaking her head from side to side. “I really hate this.”

“I hate it as well,” Greg responded, “and I guarantee you something like this won’t happen in the future.”

Without looking up, Silkie asked what his thoughts were on the cover he mentioned.

“Two things came to mind, actually,” Greg said, crossing his right ankle over his left knee as he leaned

further back on the loveseat. “We could make you an artist who specializes in erotic paintings.”

“You can draw a dick, can’t you?” Bennis inquired with a laugh.

Silkie glanced up in time to see Greg spear his partner with a fierce look that would have quelled other

men.

“Okay,” Bennis said, holding up his hands. “I’ll keep out of it.”

“Better yet, why don’t you go get yourself a diet cola,” Greg suggested.

Thick, unruly eyebrows lifted on Bennis’ wide forehead and he struggled to get his bulk out of the desk

chair. “Hey,” he said, grunting. “I know when I ain’t wanted.”

As the fat man waddled out of the room, Silkie plopped down in the chair opposite his desk. “You’re a

heart attack waiting to happen, Bennis,” she mumbled.

Bennis grunted but made no comment as he shut the door behind his exit.

“That’s why I insured him for a million five on the first to die policy,” Greg commented. He smiled gently

at Silkie. “With my luck, I’ll check out first and you’ll have him to deal with ad infinitum.”

“Oh, no,” Silkie disagreed. “I’d turn in an application at Taco Tuesday first!”

Greg laughed at the mention of the fast food joint around the corner. “I really am sorry he put you in this

position, Silkie,” he said. He lowered his leg and sat forward, clutching his hands between his spread

knees. “I wish there was another way to handle this but I just can’t find it.”

Silkie shrugged. “I’ll make the best of it,” she replied.

“I know you will, you always do.”

A look passed between the man and woman then both turned away, clearing their throats

simultaneously.

“What was the second thought?” Silkie queried, willing away the memories of a week spent in the

Colorado Rockies with Greg on an assignment that had turned all too personal for the both of them.

“You remember Dr. Carstairs?”

Silkie’s brow crinkled as she tried to place the name. “Wasn’t she the woman whose husband ran off

with the upstairs maid?”

“And got the cook pregnant about the same time,” Greg said, nodding. “We found him shacked up in

Chicago with the maid and her fifteen-year-old niece.”

“Oh, yeah,” Silkie said, her lips twisting with disgust. “Isn’t he in jail now?”

“Yes, for statutory rape,” Greg replied.

“Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving bastard.”

“Well, Dr. Carstairs has been enjoying her freedom from that deserving bastard,” Greg explained. “One

of her biyearly vacations is spent at Mistral Cay.”

Silkie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God! You’re joking!”

“She’s the one who is making it possible for you to be accepted as a guest at the resort. Only personal

reference gets you invited to the Cay,” Greg said. “Dr. Carstairs put in her recommendation and

apparently that carried considerable clout with Julian St. John, the resort’s owner.”

“But I remember her as a very prim and proper English woman,” Silkie protested. “She struck me as

being the epitome of class.”

Greg smiled. “Even prim and proper English women need a little R&R on occasion, Silkie.”

“But at a place such as that?” she questioned.

“According to Dr. Carstairs, the clientele reads like the A-list of who’s who in just about every

high-profile field you can think of—academics, politics, entertainment and medicine. She hinted that

there’s a few women who vacation there regularly whose identities would send shockwaves through the

religious communities as well.”

Silkie whistled, shocked beyond words at the information. She plopped down in a chair.

“At ten grand a day, I hope they get their money’s worth,” Greg stated.

“Bondage doesn’t come cheap, does it?” Silkie inquired.

A serious expression settled on Greg’s face and he got up, came over to Silkie’s chair and hunkered

down beside her. “You know you don’t have to do anything to put yourself in danger,” he said, searching

her eyes. “You don’t have to take part in their sick games.”

“What? No leather cat woman suit with stiletto heels and silver-handled quirt?” she teased.

Greg winced. “Just the thought of that kind of thing makes my stomach turn,” he admitted.

“Mine too, but you don’t have to worry. My dominatrix uniform is at the cleaners.”

A long sigh escaped Greg’s throat and he reached out to put a hand over Silkie’s. “I care for you, baby,”

he whispered. “I don’t want this to be any more of a burden for you than it already is.”

Silkie blushed and gently withdrew her hand. The contact of his flesh on hers was doing

well-remembered things to the pit of her stomach. “What is this other cover, then?” she reminded him

again.

Greg recovered from her gentle rejection by lifting his hand and running it through his thick auburn hair.

“Dr. Carstairs is a urologist, remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, Ross got her to agree to make an extra visit to the resort and to take you along with her as her

assistant. We’ll be footing the bill for her stay as well as yours.”

“How much of a retainer did Mrs. Lynden give us?” Silkie gasped.

“She’s very anxious to find her son,” he replied. “Apparently, there is no limit to the amount of money

she’s willing to spend to make that happen.”

“Then why doesn’t she just go down to the resort and—”

“Inspect male members for anchor-shaped birthmarks on their scrotums?” Greg asked. “Not many

fifty-two-year-old mothers—even women such as Dr. Carstairs—would be inclined to do that.”

“I see your point,” Silkie agreed. “But wouldn’t she recognize her own son when she saw him?”

Greg shook his head. “With the exception of the owner and his administrative assistant, the male

employees of the resort who service the clients wear silk half-masks. Dr. Carstairs believes many of them

are well-known public figures that go there to play and don’t want to be recognized. No doubt some

plan a career in the public eye and prefer to keep their pasts from coming back to bite them in the ass.”

“Apparently the women clients have no such worries about being recognized,” Silkie said.

“Any woman who can afford that kind of money doesn’t have many worries to begin with,” Greg said

dryly.

“I suppose not,” Silkie replied. “So how will Dr. Carstairs fit in with this?”

“I remember her telling me she had been working on a book about the male genitalia,” Greg explained.

“According to her it will be a detailed work about the function, associated medical problems, etcetera of

the penis and will be accompanied by photographs. That started me to thinking. You could go along with

her to assist. That will give you a plausible reason for examining male appendages and taking digital shots

of said—ah—equipment.”

Silkie winced. “I have to take pictures of their things?”

“It’s a plausible explanation for why you would be examining them, yes.”

A low groan preceded Silkie’s next question. “Won’t the people at the resort wonder why she just

doesn’t use her own patients for that sort of thing?”

“She will in due time but for now, she’s starting her research under the guise of taking a working

vacation. The people at Mistral Cay know her well enough to know her quirks. I don’t think they

questioned it at all.”

“Well, I have to admit I like that cover better than one in which I paint men’s cocks,” Silkie said. She

shuddered delicately. “The thought of that makes me sick to my stomach.”

Greg got to his feet—his face tinged pink and held out a hand to help her up.

Silkie took his hand and was surprised when he pulled her into an embrace that made her entire body