Swept away by waves, Eduardo Khan found time to ruminate. Who would have expected the world’s most luxurious cruise ship to hit an iceberg? Not he. Though, he had to admit, justice had been served. All the hoi-polloi, flailing for their lives like so many victims of their own opulence. Weighed down by all their gold, by all their diamonds. It was probably ironic and certainly satisfying.
It was a grim satisfaction though, mused Eduardo. Sometimes he thought the only true satisfaction he’d ever known was in the arms of a certain baroness. He’d seen her floating past, on a raft she had made from lashing two cabana boys together. She had always been resourceful, but he doubted even she, his muse, his love, his nemesis, could escape the inexorable wrath of Poseidon.
Though her lithe form could tempt a God to fall. Women such as she turned Gods to men. And, Eduardo mused, stabbing a passing sailor with dusky introspection, turned men into monsters. Her peculiar brand of sex alchemy was done now and he thanked the Gods for it. For though cabana boys were bouyant and pliable, they provided no shelter against the coming storm. If she weren’t dead already, Eduardo ruminated, strangling an orphaned prince to obtain a slightly bigger raft, she would be soon. He and the sea would make full sure of that.
The waves rippled with a dark promise and the sun hid its sexy golden face.