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Authors: Jackie Collins
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cross the line?
She hit a light switch. Her apartment was all pale beige and marble, with huge Moroccan pillows scattered across the floor, oversized coffee tables, Tiffany lamps and real art on the walls.
'You have a most interesting style, Brigette,' he said. 'May I fix us a drink?'
'I'm sorry,' she said quickly, feeling even more disoriented and dizzy. 'I can't let you stay. Lina's waiting for you, so's Fredo. You've got to get back to the club.'
And she turned away.
Her mistake. He grabbed her from behind, surprising her completely, turning her towards him, crushing his mouth down on hers so hard that she could barely breathe.
She struggled to get free, but as she did so a strange thing happened - her body reacted in such a way that she found herself unable to resist. It was almost as if she were powerless.
'Why are you doing this?' she managed.
'Because we both want me to,' he said, and immediately began kissing her again.
This was crazy. She'd held out all this time, and now suddenly here was this stranger, this Italian who lived in London, and he was kissing her, and she was incapable of fighting him off.
Too much Cristal. No more drinking for you, young lady.
'Carlo, you've got to go,' she said, finally summoning the strength to push him away.
'Why?' he said calmly. 'Are you married?'
'No, of course not.'
'Engaged?'
'No.'
'Do you have a boyfriend?'
'I don't.'
'Then what is stopping us? Are you a lesbian?'
'That's ridiculous…'
He thrust his strong hands into her long blonde hair and concentrated on her mouth.
She tried to pull back, but her body wouldn't let her. Besides, everything was spinning again…
'Brigette,' he murmured, between deep, soulful kisses. 'Ah, my sweet, adorable Brigette…'
Chapter Sixteen
It was past nine and dinner was finished.
'You've got to make your speech without Lennie here,' Steven urged. 'It's getting too late to wait any longer.'
'Where are they?' Lucky demanded, impatiently drumming her fingers on the table. 'They left the location an hour ago. It doesn't take that long at this time of night.'
'I don't know, Lucky, but you have to make your speech. You can't do it after the entertainment - half the people will have left by that time.'
'All right, Steven, don't nag,' she said irritably, signalling one of the organizers.
'I'm ready,' she said briskly. 'Let's get going.'
'Good,' said the man, relieved. 'I'll see if I can find Mr Dollar. He's making the introduction.'
'Charlie Dollar is introducing me?' she said, unable to conceal her amusement.
'Whose brilliant idea was that?'
'It was supposed to be a surprise, but uh… due to the delay we had to keep him in the back. I hope he's still here.'
'You mean you left old Charlie alone with a bottle of Scotch. That was daring!'
'If you'll wait a few moments I'll try to locate him.'
Charlie Dollar was one of Lucky's favourite people. He was a fifty-something movie star with stoned eyes, and an off-the-wall, irreverent attitude. Women loved him in spite of his generous gut, slightly receding hairline and penchant for eighteen-year-old beauty queens. He'd won an Oscar for his last movie, and kept it propped against the door of his guest toilet. Typical Charlie.
When they found him he was stoned and drunk - nothing unusual for Charlie. He swayed his way on to the podium with his usual shit-eating grin, trademark tinted shades, and a glass of Scotch in one hand, which nobody had managed to extract. He immediately began speaking.
Lucky listened with a smile as he extolled her virtues, ending up with, 'An' now…
I wanna introduce you to one of the greatest broads in this town. She's a friend.
She's a beauty. An' I love her. May I present - Lucky Santangelo.'
The audience responded to his introduction with enthusiasm, leaping to their feet and applauding heartily. Charlie was a popular number.
Lucky took a deep breath as she made her way up to the podium. She'd learned her speech, doing away with any
She hit a light switch. Her apartment was all pale beige and marble, with huge Moroccan pillows scattered across the floor, oversized coffee tables, Tiffany lamps and real art on the walls.
'You have a most interesting style, Brigette,' he said. 'May I fix us a drink?'
'I'm sorry,' she said quickly, feeling even more disoriented and dizzy. 'I can't let you stay. Lina's waiting for you, so's Fredo. You've got to get back to the club.'
And she turned away.
Her mistake. He grabbed her from behind, surprising her completely, turning her towards him, crushing his mouth down on hers so hard that she could barely breathe.
She struggled to get free, but as she did so a strange thing happened - her body reacted in such a way that she found herself unable to resist. It was almost as if she were powerless.
'Why are you doing this?' she managed.
'Because we both want me to,' he said, and immediately began kissing her again.
This was crazy. She'd held out all this time, and now suddenly here was this stranger, this Italian who lived in London, and he was kissing her, and she was incapable of fighting him off.
Too much Cristal. No more drinking for you, young lady.
'Carlo, you've got to go,' she said, finally summoning the strength to push him away.
'Why?' he said calmly. 'Are you married?'
'No, of course not.'
'Engaged?'
'No.'
'Do you have a boyfriend?'
'I don't.'
'Then what is stopping us? Are you a lesbian?'
'That's ridiculous…'
He thrust his strong hands into her long blonde hair and concentrated on her mouth.
She tried to pull back, but her body wouldn't let her. Besides, everything was spinning again…
'Brigette,' he murmured, between deep, soulful kisses. 'Ah, my sweet, adorable Brigette…'
Chapter Sixteen
It was past nine and dinner was finished.
'You've got to make your speech without Lennie here,' Steven urged. 'It's getting too late to wait any longer.'
'Where are they?' Lucky demanded, impatiently drumming her fingers on the table. 'They left the location an hour ago. It doesn't take that long at this time of night.'
'I don't know, Lucky, but you have to make your speech. You can't do it after the entertainment - half the people will have left by that time.'
'All right, Steven, don't nag,' she said irritably, signalling one of the organizers.
'I'm ready,' she said briskly. 'Let's get going.'
'Good,' said the man, relieved. 'I'll see if I can find Mr Dollar. He's making the introduction.'
'Charlie Dollar is introducing me?' she said, unable to conceal her amusement.
'Whose brilliant idea was that?'
'It was supposed to be a surprise, but uh… due to the delay we had to keep him in the back. I hope he's still here.'
'You mean you left old Charlie alone with a bottle of Scotch. That was daring!'
'If you'll wait a few moments I'll try to locate him.'
Charlie Dollar was one of Lucky's favourite people. He was a fifty-something movie star with stoned eyes, and an off-the-wall, irreverent attitude. Women loved him in spite of his generous gut, slightly receding hairline and penchant for eighteen-year-old beauty queens. He'd won an Oscar for his last movie, and kept it propped against the door of his guest toilet. Typical Charlie.
When they found him he was stoned and drunk - nothing unusual for Charlie. He swayed his way on to the podium with his usual shit-eating grin, trademark tinted shades, and a glass of Scotch in one hand, which nobody had managed to extract. He immediately began speaking.
Lucky listened with a smile as he extolled her virtues, ending up with, 'An' now…
I wanna introduce you to one of the greatest broads in this town. She's a friend.
She's a beauty. An' I love her. May I present - Lucky Santangelo.'
The audience responded to his introduction with enthusiasm, leaping to their feet and applauding heartily. Charlie was a popular number.
Lucky took a deep breath as she made her way up to the podium. She'd learned her speech, doing away with any
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