Also by Jackie Collins
Poor Little Bitch Girl
Married Lovers
Lovers & Players
Deadly Embrace
Hollywood Wives – The New Generation
Lethal Seduction
Thrill!
L.A. Connections – Power, Obsession, Murder, Revenge
Hollywood Kids
American Star
Rock Star
Hollywood Husbands
Lovers & Gamblers
Hollywood Wives
The World Is Full Of Divorced Women
The Love Killers
Sinners
The Bitch
The Stud
The World Is Full Of Married Men
Hollywood Divorces
THE SANTANGELO NOVELS
Goddess of Vengeance
Drop Dead Beautiful
Dangerous Kiss
Vendetta: Lucky’s Revenge
Lady Boss
Lucky
Chances
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2012
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Chances Inc., 2012
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention
No reproduction without permission
® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.
The right of Jackie Collins to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Hardback ISBN 978-1-84737-979-5
Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-84737-980-1
Ebook ISBN 978-1-84737-981-8
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Typeset by M Rules
Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
To all my
readers across the world.
Love . . .
Passion . . .
Friendship . . .
and
Power! Live it!
Contents
Prologue
Book One: The Invitation
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Book Two: The Trip
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-Two
Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Four
Chapter Ninety-Five
Chapter Ninety-Six
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Epilogue
Prologue
The couple on the bed had sex as if it was their final act. And for one of them it was.
Neither of them heard the door slowly open.
Neither of them observed the shadowy figure enter the room. They were too caught up in the throes of passionate love-making.
Until . . . one single gunshot.
And the blood flowed.
And for one of them death and orgasm happened at the exact same moment.
Life has a strange way of taking you on an unexpected trip . . .
This was one of those times.
Book One
The Invitation
Chapter One
Dateline: Moscow
The Russian billionaire, Aleksandr Kasianenko, admired his super-model girlfriend as she stepped, unabashedly naked, out of the indoor swimming pool in his luxurious Moscow mansion. Her name was Bianca, and she was known across the world.
God, she is a beautiful creature, Aleksandr thought, beautiful and sleekly feline. She moves like a panther – and in bed she is a wild tiger. I am a very fortunate man.
Bianca was of mixed race – her mother was Cuban, her father black. There was no doubt that Bianca had inherited the best of both her parents’ looks.
She’d been raised in New York, discovered at seventeen, and now at age twenty-nine was the most sought-after super-model on the planet. Tall, lean and agile, with coffee-coloured skin, fine features, full natural lips, piercing green eyes and waist-length glossy black hair, Bianca captivated both men and women. Men found her irresistibly sexy, while women admired her sense of style and raunchy humour – which she exhibited every time she appeared on the late-night talk shows.
Bianca knew how to handle herself in front of the cameras, and she c
ertainly knew how to plug her brand. Over the years she’d created a mini-empire that included a fine jewelry line, exotic sunglasses, a stunning makeup collection for women of colour, and several best-selling scents.
Bianca had mastered the art of the sell, making a fortune doing so. Then at the age of twenty-nine she’d finally decided that rather than be a one-man-band who worked hard for her money, she was looking for a powerful man who would take care of her and parlay the money she’d earned into super-rich status.
Aleksandr Kasianenko was just such a man, for Aleksandr was not only a super-rich businessman, he was also tough and rugged with a steely reserve.
Bianca was sick of the long list of pretty boys she’d dated over the years. Movie stars, a clutch of rock stars, a half-dozen sports heroes and a politician or two. None of them had really satisfied her – in bed or out. She’d always been the dominant force in whatever relationship she’d been trapped in. The movie stars were all insecure and fixated on their public image. Rock stars were mostly into drugs and getting fucked-up, not to mention totally vain. The sports stars were publicity-crazy and never faithful. And as for the politicians – sexually incorrect. All horn and no blow.
Then, at exactly the right time, she’d met Aleksandr. And she’d fallen for his silent strength.
Only one problem.
He was married.
* * *
They’d met on Aleksandr’s home turf. She was in Moscow doing a cover shoot for Italian Vogue, and since it happened to be her twenty-ninth birthday, the flamboyant photographer, Antonio – an Italian gay man who knew absolutely everyone who was anyone in Moscow – had decided to throw her a massive party.
The party was a blast. And then she was introduced to Aleksandr.
The moment she saw him, he took her breath away with his brooding dark looks and aura of control and power. He was big and strong, and there was something magnetic about him, something incredibly masculine. One look and she was hooked.
He didn’t tell her he was married.
She didn’t ask.
An hour after their first encounter they were making fast, ferocious love on the floor in her hotel suite. Their lovemaking was animalistic in its intensity, so overpowering that they’d never made it as far as the bedroom. It was all clothes off and straight at it.
After their one night of unbridled passion they were both swept up and addicted to each other. And so began their steamy affair, an affair that had them meeting all over the world.
Now, after one year, and in spite of Aleksandr’s marital status, they were still very much together.
Aleksandr had assured Bianca that he was in the throes of divorcing his wife, but due to several massive business deals that could affect his wife’s settlement, it still had not happened. He also had children to consider. Three daughters. ‘The timing has to be right,’ he’d informed her. ‘However, it will happen, and it will happen soon. You have my word.’
Bianca believed him. He was separated from his wife, so that was a promising beginning. Still, she couldn’t help wanting more. She wanted to be Mrs Aleksandr Kasianenko, and the less time wasted the better.
In the meantime Aleksandr wished to celebrate his love’s upcoming thirtieth birthday in a big way. He’d recently taken delivery of a new luxurious 400-foot super-yacht, and to christen their maiden voyage he planned on throwing Bianca a once-in-a-lifetime special event that she would never forget. The celebrations would include inviting several of their friends on a week-long cruise to enjoy the best of everything. What could be better?
When he informed Bianca of his plan she was excited, and immediately started thinking about who they would invite on this very exclusive trip.
‘How many can your new yacht accommodate?’ she enquired.
‘Many,’ Aleksandr replied with a dry laugh. ‘But I feel we should invite only five couples.’
‘Why only five?’ Bianca asked, slightly disappointed.
‘It’s enough,’ he told her. ‘You make your list, I make mine. Then we will compare and decide who gets invited.’
Bianca grinned. ‘This is gonna be fun,’ she said, already planning her list.
‘Indeed it will,’ Aleksandr agreed.
Chapter Two
Dateline: London
Ashley Sherwin stared at her image in the ornate mirror above the vanity for a full ten minutes before her husband, Taye, entered their streamlined bathroom with the marble counters and fancy rock-crystal chandelier – designed by Jeromy Milton-Gold, one of London’s most sought-after interior designers.
‘Whatcha lookin’ at, toots?’ Taye asked cheerfully, taking the opportunity to lean over her shoulder and check out his own image, which was, as usual, totally fine.
‘New makeup,’ Ashley muttered sulkily, annoyed that he’d caught her, wishing she’d locked the door.
Taye had no concept of the word ‘privacy’. Well, he wouldn’t, would he? He was a super-star footballer used to stripping off and basking in all the glory (not to mention the women) that came his way. Cheap and nasty little tarts, ready and willing to chase any famous man. She hated them all.
‘Well,’ Taye said, stretching his arms above his head, ‘you look right fit, an’ sexy as hell.’
Ashley had no desire to look hot and horny; her aim was to look like an elegant fashion icon, a fashionista with style to spare. Taye simply didn’t get it. He thought he was tossing her a compliment, but as far as she was concerned it was exactly the opposite.
She sighed. After six years of marriage Taye still had no clue who the person was that she aspired to be. Didn’t he realize that she was no longer the pretty blonde, twenty-two-year-old TV presenter he’d married? She was now the mother to their six-year-old twins, Aimee and Wolf. She was older, more mature. She knew what she wanted, and it was certainly not enough to be known as Taye Sherwin’s trophy wife.
They’d had to get married because she was pregnant – never the best of ideas, but better than being a single mother. Taye was a major catch. Black and beautiful. A sports hero. A money-making machine, what with all his various endorsement deals and super-star status.
They’d met on a TV show she’d been co-hosting with Harmony Gee, a former member of the girl group Sweet. Harmony was all over Taye, but it soon became obvious to everyone that he only had eyes for Ashley.
Before long they were a staple in the UK newspapers, billed as the new celebrity couple. They were even given a nickname by the press – Tashley. It had a ring to it.
Ashley was thrilled; she revelled in the attention. For six months she’d been pushed into the background while Harmony scored most of the big interviews; however, with all her newfound PR, her bosses at the TV station were suddenly regarding her with new respect, while Harmony was staring at her with daggers in her eyes.
Then Taye had managed to impregnate her, and that was that.
Goodbye, career.
Hello, marriage.
Taye was a super-star in all respects. The moment he found out she was pregnant, he’d insisted that they got married. Never mind about his playboy past, Taye was all about doing the right thing. Besides, he loved Ashley. She was perfect for him – a true English peach with her widely spaced blue eyes, flawless skin, long blond hair and curvy figure.
Taye’s mother, Anais, a heavy-set Jamaican woman, was not so pleased. ‘Yo should be marryin’ one of yo own kind,’ she had complained, her accent heavy with disapproval. ‘This Ashley gal’s nothin’ but a fancy show-pony. She not gonna make yo a satis-fyin’ wife.’
‘Yo’ mama’s right, son,’ Taye’s dad had agreed. ‘Yo wanna grab yo’self an island woman – more meat on dem bones. Juicy dark meat. Delicious!’
The last time Taye’s parents had visited Jamaica was forty years ago, so Taye chose to ignore their sage advice. Instead he forged ahead with elaborate wedding plans.
Ashley’s mother, Elise – a faded blonde who worked behind the makeup counter in a department store – was torn. The good n
ews was that Taye was rich and famous. The bad news was that he was black.
Elise tried not to think in a racist way, but unfortunately she’d been raised to regard black people as inferior beings.
Fortunately, Ashley had never harboured any hang-ups about Taye being black. He loved her more than any man ever had – in fact, he kind of worshipped her, which she didn’t mind at all. Being worshipped by a very famous man whom every other woman lusted after was quite a kick.
Their lavish marriage made headline news. So did the birth of their twins three months later. Taye bought them all a magnificent house near Hampstead Heath, and everything was well in the world, except shortly after moving into their new home, Ashley suffered a bad bout of post-partum depression, and refused to go near the twins for the first six months of their lives. This forced Taye into moving his parents and Ashley’s mother into their house, which turned out to be a big mistake. The two grandmothers soon discovered that they loathed each other – especially when Anais accused the thrice-divorced Elise of making a play for her husband, an accusation Elise hotly denied.
The Sherwin household was not a happy one. Ashley, locked up in the master bedroom refusing to come out. The twins demanding attention day and night. And the mothers-in-law at war.
Taye attempted to keep the peace, although it wasn’t easy. And since Ashley shied away from any sexual contact, he was becoming increasingly frustrated.
So it came to pass that Taye cheated. And as luck would have it, the girl he cheated with (a page three model with outrageous boobs) couldn’t wait to run to the tabloids and sell her story for a ridiculous amount of money.
The headlines were relentless:
MY ENDLESS NIGHT OF LUST WITH TAYE SHERWIN
HE’S A STAR IN BED TOO!
IS TASHLEY OVER?
Oh, the humiliation! The fury! The shock that Ashley experienced. She’d hauled herself out of hiding and confronted her husband in a simmering rage.
His excuses were weak. No sex for months. A depressed wife. Crying babies. Warring mothers-in-law. And a buxom babe throwing herself at him during an aftershave commercial he was shooting.
Taye wasn’t made of stone. He’d fallen into those giant tits like a man starved for sustenance. He’d wallowed in them. Then after wallowing, he’d screwed the random girl, immediately regretted it, and run for his life.
The newspaper story had galvanised Ashley into action. She’d hurriedly hired two maternity nurses, banished both mothers-in-law to their own homes, and set about getting herself back in shape.