"Bennett, Cherie - Sunset Island 011 - Sunset Paradise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bennett Cherie)

Sam jumped at the feel of his finger so intimately caressing her mouth. Her glass tipped, and the champagne spilled all over Jean-Claude's starched white shirt.
"Merde!" Jean-Claude exclaimed, jumping up.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Sam cried, ineffectually trying to wipe the champagne from his shirt. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll pay for it."
Jean-Claude took a deep breath and seemed to regain his composure. "It is nothing, little one," he assured her. "Please excuse me while I go change. I shall return promptly." Jean-Claude kissed Sam's hand, then Marie's hand, and disappeared down a hallway that Sam assumed led to a bedroom.
"Wow, do I feel stupid," Sam told Marie, attempting a weak smile.
"You're new at this, huh?" Marie said, a kind smile on her face.
"Yeah, I don't usually hang out with European jet-set types," Sam joked feebly.
"Jean-Claude is better than most, so you don't really need to feel so nervous," Marie assured her. "He's a decent sort, and he's usually very generous."
"No sugar, Sherlock!" Sam exclaimed. "I'll
tell you the truthЧI'm really glad you're here," she confided. "I thought he was bringing me up here alone for you-know-what."
Marie looked nonplussed for just a moment. "What is it you think you're here for?" she asked carefully.
"Well, just to be friendly," Sam said, realizing it sounded incredibly lame even as she said it.
"How friendly?" Marie asked, putting down her champagne glass.
"Not that friendly," Sam explained, "if you catch my drift."
Marie smiled. "I catch your drift," she said, nodding. She stared at Sam curiously. "Do you know what I do for a living?"
"Nope," Sam said.
"I'm an escort," Marie said.
Sam thought a minute. "Does that mean what I think it means?"
"If you think it means that extremely wealthy men pay a great deal of money for my company, then the answer is yes," Marie said.
Sam was starting to sweat. She could feel little rivers of perspiration traveling down the back of her beaded gown. "What kind of company?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
"Intimate company," Marie replied. "Very, very intimate company."
Sam jumped up from the couch. "But he told me he wouldn't ... I mean, he told me this wasn't . . ."she stammered, unable to find the right words.
"A man like Jean-Claude is used to getting his way," Marie said with a shrug of her lovely shoulders. "You aren't real to him. You're just a bauble he can amuse himself with." Marie's face was set hard, as if she was fighting giving in to some deep, frightening emotion.
"But you're so beautiful," Sam whispered to Marie, not wanting to believe what she was hearing. "I mean, you don't have to do this."
Marie gave her a sad-eyed smile. "It's not like in the movies, I'm afraid. No rich, perfect prince is going to come along and save me so that we can live happily ever after. Besides," she added, "I'm quite addicted to the money."
"Well, I'm not," Sam said. With shaking fingers she opened her purse and took out all the money Jean-Claude had given her.
"Cherie! Sit down! We have only just begun to enjoy ourselves," Jean-Claude exclaimed as he returned to the room and saw her standing with the money in her hands.
"Oh, no we haven't," Sam said. "Your company has made me suddenly ill."
Sam strode to the door, half afraid that Jean-Claude's two silent companions would grab her. But when it was clear that they weren't making a move toward her, she turned around for a parting shot. "Just keep this in mind, you son-of-a-bitch," she seethed at Jean-Claude. "This is one 'little cat' who can't be bought."
Then she threw the money on the floor and marched out the door.
The next morning, Sam pressed her nose up against the glass of the lobby dolphin tank. Pres the dolphin bumped the glass on his side.
"Pres," Sam said, almost whispering, "how could I have been so stupid?" Stupid to gamble away all my money, stupid not to listen to my friends, stupid to go with that stupid French guy to his stupid room, and stupid to allow myself to be humiliated by him.
The dolphin answered by continuing to bump his nose against the glass. He loves me, Sam thought, no matter what I do, no matter what I say. Even if he knew what I knew, which is that I tried to hide the truth about Jean-Claude from myselfЧthat he wanted me to go to his room with him so he could sleep with meЧeven if Pres knew that,
he would still love me. The question was whether or not she could still love herself.
"Hey, you didn't actually go through with it," Sam reminded herself. Yeah, but you let yourself be led into the situation, a voice inside responded.
"Shut up!" Sam said, putting her hands over her ears, as if her conscience would listen to her and just butt out. But even though she knew she'd thrown Jean-Claude's money at him and walked out with her head held high, she couldn't help feeling guilty for having gone to his suite at all. All because I was stupid enough to gamble away all my money, she told herself. Stupid, stupid Sam.
At least she was alone, which was good, because she really did not want to have to face Carrie and Emma. When Sam had awoken late in the morning, there were two notes at her bedside, one from Carrie and one from Emma. Emma's said that she was going to take a windsurfing lesson and then have lunch with her father, and Carrie's said that she was going to spend the morning on the beach with Matt Carlton. They would all meet again in the early afternoon.
Sam smiled when she saw the dolphin was doing flips in his tank for her. She didn't
even notice the white-jacketed young hotel employee who had sidled up next to her.
"Uh, miss?" said the fellow, who looked to Sam to be in his early twenties.
"Yes?" Sam responded.
The young man grinned sheepishly, his tight black curls a halo around his handsome coffee-colored face. "My name is Lance Red-bourne," he said with the singsong accent typical of the Bahamas. "I'm in charge of the dolphins. It seems one of them has taken a liking to you."
Sam grinned. "It's mutual," she said, looking down at what she was starting to think of as "her" dolphin.
Lance grinned back. "It's quite amazing to see."
"What's his real name?" Sam asked, watching Pres turn lazy circles in the water in front of her.
"Wilson," Lance said. "After the tennis balls. He liked playing with them when he was a baby."
"Wilson! That's a riot!" Sam laughed. "I mean, you have to admit it's a funny name for a dolphin."
"He's an odd duck, er, dolphin," Lance said, looking into the tank. "He took a real shine to Jodie Foster a couple of years ago
when she was shooting a movie here at the hotel, but I think he likes you more."
"I'm irresistible," Sam replied, temporarily forgetting her troubles. If only she could just stay here in paradise playing with Pres/WIlson forever!