Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess? (21 page)

“Maybe you shouldn't give him anything else,” said Loubelle. “It is against the rules.”

“Oh, rules, smules. I make my own. Nobody's complaining as long as I keep my money pouring in.”

Andy's fork stopped halfway to her mouth as a surge of apprehension rushed through her. Another rich heiress who was pouring her money into Terra Bliss. She'd paid to keep them from firing Demetri. What else had she paid for? Was she in danger? Should Andy warn her?

But how could she without giving herself away, and without possibly putting Jeannie at risk.

She would tell Dillon. And then another thought struck her. “Jeannie, were you ever in Katherine's meditation group?”

“I went once, but it just made me feel all fuzzy-brained, so I dropped out. I'm here to have fun, not get enlightened.” Her face lit up and she broke into a grin. “Why, here he comes, my hunky slave, looking good enough to eat. I guess he
was
just being polite.”

 

An hour later Andy was sitting in Dr. Bliss's office, while the high priestess beamed across the coffee table at her.

“I'm so glad you enjoyed your time with Dillon in the Bower of Bliss. I had a feeling that you were ready to ascend to the next level of empowerment. And after Carmen's enthusiastic report of your breakthrough in her workshop, I decided to put it to the test. We're very proud of you, Ariadne. This is what my work is about. Seeing women take control of their life, in work and in play. Demanding pleasure as well as being expected to give it. I hope you're as pleased as we are.”

Overwhelmed was more like it. The high priestess was coming on strong. She seemed genuinely sincere. And the weird thing was, Andy was beginning to feel the same way, herself. She liked the doctor. It was hard to picture her as a murderer. Now that she thought about it, everyone here was nice, with the possible exception of Carmen and Jane toward each other. And they were nice to everybody else. The only staff member that even looked as if he might be a killer was Hans, the masseur, but everyone said he was a sweetheart. So many nice people all in one place. Kind of like
The Stepford Wives
meet
Helen of Troy.

“You are happy here, Ariadne?”

Perfect opening. “Yes. Everyone must love it here.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Though…”

A crease appeared between the doctor's eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I guess it might not be to some people's taste.”

“Not everyone is ready to take charge of their destiny.”

“Yes. Well. What happens to those people? Do they get to leave if it doesn't agree with them?”

Dr. Bliss took a second to answer. “If they truly aren't happy, of course they can leave. However, they are not allowed to return until the next session. I hope you're not contemplating leaving us.”

“Oh, no,” said Andy.

“Good.” The smile was back.

“Do many people leave?” She knew she was pushing it, but she didn't think she'd have another opportunity to talk to the doctor so intimately.

“Not many.” Dr. Bliss was watching her intently. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Are you feeling a little homesick? When you leave your old life behind, it's only natural that you should feel some ambivalence, a sense of loss even. But that's exactly why we insist on a retreat environment, to support each other as we slough off our old lives, our old habits. What you're feeling is a normal reaction to growth. It will soon pass.”

Dr. Bliss rose from the wing chair like Aphrodite rising from the sea. Pretty impressive. “Remember. We're all here to support each other.”

“Well, thank you,” Andy said and took her leave.

She considered looking for Dillon. Compare notes. But on second thought, what did she have to tell him? That Jeannie was an heiress. That was no secret. That Imogene Southwaite and Mac had also been in Katherine's meditation group. That Jeannie had joined for one day before quitting. Jeannie was still alive. And hopefully, so was Aunt Mac. The meditation group was a pretty slim thread. Not enough to make him realize that he needed her help.

“How'd it go?”

She jumped. “Jesus, Dillon. Don't creep up on me that way.”

“I didn't creep. You just weren't paying attention. So how did the debriefing go?”

“All right, I guess. I told her a fun time was had by all. Then I asked her if people could leave of their own free will. And she said yes.”

“You what?” The words exploded from him, and before she knew it, she was being propelled out of the building and onto the lawn.

They didn't stop until they came to the Temple of Venus. Dillon pushed her through the archway and onto the hard marble bench. Then he turned on her. “Are you crazy?”

“All I did was ask a few innocent questions.”

“Christ.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, a gesture she was coming to dread. “No more questions. Do you understand? Don't talk to anybody. Not even the other trainees.”

“Aw shucks, Dillon, I didn't know you cared.”

“Well, I do. And I don't want you to be hurt or worse.”

“You do?”

“Do what?”

“Care about me?”

“Of course I do. And don't you dare say, ‘Aw shucks,' or I'll brain you myself.”

She smiled up at him. “You say the most romantic things.”

The anger seemed to seep out of him, and he sank onto the bench beside her. “I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But damn it, Andy, this isn't a movie; you don't get more than one take. You're being watched. So no more going to the lake. Or anywhere you don't belong. Katherine Dane called me in the hall to tell me that you're—” He hesitated, uncertain of how much to reveal.

“I'm what?”

“She's worried about your emotional state.”

“Just because I keep falling asleep in her meditation group? Jeez.”

“No. It may be because she suspects you of being something that you aren't. She's a psychologist, after all. But I keep thinking they're setting you up. I just can't figure out what or when or where. So don't go anywhere alone. Especially don't attempt to go over the wall again. And tonight, you stay by my side.”

“Tonight?”

“The bacchanalia.”

“I'd forgotten about that. Pigs on spits and wild reveling. Oh, boy.” She stood up. “Gee, look at the time. I'd better go iron my toga.”

Dillon gritted his teeth. “Ariadne.”

“You know, Dillon. You were right. It's so much easier working alone.”

She heard him growl as she jogged up the hill toward home.

T
he first thing Andy smelled when she reached the bacchanalia was roasting pork. It took only a quick look around to find the fire, the spit and, yes, the whole pig turning above the flames. Someone had stuck a wreath on its head. Several attendants stood close by, ostensibly overseeing the cooking, but who were paying more attention to their cans of beer.

Andy pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. The weather had turned cooler, and a piece of woolen fabric with directions for wearing it had magically appeared in her cabin that afternoon.

She was glad of it, since she didn't have to do the buttoned-shirt thing. She wasn't the only one feeling the cold. Everyone, including the attendants, were wearing similar shawls or cloaks thrown around their shoulders. A few women had opted for tights beneath their robes.

She wandered through the crowd, looking for her friends and trying to avoid Dillon. She was feeling a little miffed at him for that macho thing he'd hit her with before they parted earlier. “Tonight, you stay by my side.” Like she couldn't take care of herself. Of course, she supposed it was nice for a man to think she needed his protection. Even if she wasn't a part of his plan.

Torches were set up around the pool area, and they cast uneven shadows over the columned amphitheater where a bar and buffet tables were set up. Bowls of flaming oil floated on the swimming pool. And at each end, large birdbath-looking things held more fire and gave off the sickly odor of incense. It was warmer in the lit area, not just from all those flames, but from giant uber space heaters, camouflaged by curtains of flowing gauze.

Attendants and goddesses mingled around the pool, standing in groups or lounging in chaises.

The whole effect created an atmosphere somewhere between a Roman orgy and a suburban cocktail party.

Evelyn and Loubelle were seated with Rusty and Louis at their usual table, making serious headway through a platter of hors d'oeuvres and a pitcher of what looked like margaritas. Jeannie was conspicuously absent.

“Gone to the ladies' room,” said Loubelle, when Andy asked where she was.

A burst of laughter rose from across the pool. Andy turned to see Demetri surrounded by a group of younger women. She was glad Jeannie wasn't here to see. Didn't they have some rules about flirting with other people's slaves? And what had happened to the attentive, unctuous ape on whom Jeannie had lavished presents.

“She's not going to be happy about that,” said Evelyn.

“I think I'll just go remind him of his duties,” Rusty said and stood up.

Loubelle grabbed his wrist. “You most certainly will not. He's a spiteful man and I want you to stay away from him.”

Rusty patted her hand, then eased his wrist free. “I'll keep my distance. But someone needs to bring him to heel.”

“I'll go, too,” said Louis and hurried after him.

“Fine young men,” said Loubelle. “And so considerate. You don't find many boys with moral fiber like that these days.” She sighed. “Still, I wish they'd stay away from him. Rusty reminds me of my grandson.”

Andy was thankful for that. She somehow couldn't imagine Loubelle and Rusty in the throes of hot sex. Though she supposed that was what this retreat was about. Breaking down those kinds of preconceptions. If Loubelle wanted to have hot sex with Rusty, far be it from her to make judgments.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Loubelle. “He's stopped to tell JoJo. He'll see that Demetri tows the line.”

“What line?” asked Jeannie, who'd come up behind them. She settled herself at the table and looked at the others.

“Nothing,” said Loubelle, but her voice was a dead giveaway. Jeannie searched the crowd, zeroed in on Demetri, and scowled. “That little snake in the grass. And to think I forked out a bundle to keep him employed.” Her lip quivered, but Andy couldn't tell if it was from anger or from trying not to cry.

Andy felt for her. How many times had she watched someone she'd just been with move on to greener pastures. And she knew there was nothing she could say or do to make Jeannie feel better.

“Men can be shits,” she said.

Jeannie's eyes widened. “Don't tell me you and the panther are on the outs. Honey, I should have insisted on keeping him myself. He, at least, doesn't make a fool of you in front of the whole camp.”

No,
thought Andy,
just in private.

“And speak of the devil. Yoo-hoo. Dillon, over here.”

Andy tried not to look, because each time he came near her, her heart did a little hop, skip, and flip that told her she was getting too involved. Which was stupid. Because before long, Dillon would be just another notch on her SAG card.

He was wearing a cloak, thrown over one shoulder and secured by a large circular pin. The other shoulder was bare—and incredibly enticing. She wiped her hand across her mouth to make sure she wasn't drooling.

He smiled at her, and her heart did that skip thing, even though she was still mad at him.

“Love the dress,” she said, just to get a rise out of him. It did.

“Don't start with me,” he said between gritted teeth and sat down beside her. “Ladies, please stay away from open flames. I've already had to snatch several goddesses away from near incendiary disasters.”

“Thank you for the warning,” said Evelyn. “I was wondering if anyone was aware of the fire hazard.”

“Where's Jeannie tonight?”

They all looked at Jeannie's empty seat.

“She was right here a second ago,” said Loubelle, looking around.

“Well, at least Demetri has left those fawning women,” said Evelyn, peering across the pool. “So hurtful to Jeannie after all she's done for him. Unfortunately, I don't see Gloria Hollander, either. If Jeannie finds the two of them together…”

“I think we should go look for her.” Andy stood up, her eyes already scanning the crowd.

Dillon snagged her by the elbow. “What's this all about?”

He looked more annoyed than worried. The light cast the planes of his face into harsh angles. She shook him off. “Jeannie saw Demetri flirting with some other women. She's not very happy with him right now. And if she discovers him en flagrante with someone else, there'll be hell to pay.” Not to mention that Jeannie would be devastated.

“Excuse us, Dillon,” said Evelyn, getting to her feet.

“I'll find Rusty and Louis and get them to help look,” said Loubelle.

“Let's meet back here in ten minutes,” said Andy.

“Do you want some help?” asked Dillon.

Andy deliberated. “No, thanks. We can handle this by ourselves.”

“Fine,” he said and stalked away.

 

When they met again, no one had seen Jeannie or Demetri.

“I couldn't even find Rusty and Louis in this light,” said Loubelle.

“Maybe she decided to make an early night of it,” said Evelyn. “Oh, here comes Louis. I'll ask him to run up and check her cabin.”

“What are the chances she and Demetri are there together?” asked Andy.

Evelyn leaned over and said in Andy's ear, “I'm not sure that there's any of that really going on. More wishful thinking than reality. She's a lonely woman. I don't want to see her hurt.”

“Neither do I,” said Andy, trying to assimilate what Evelyn had just told her. Louis went off toward the cabins, and the others resumed their search.

Andy made a quick sweep of the pool area, and not finding Jeannie or Demetri—or Dillon for that matter—she began to look farther afield.

She found several couples taking advantage of the shadows cast by the amphitheater's fluted columns, but none of them were Jeannie and Demetri. Across the lawn, there were lights coming from the men's dormitory.

Would Jeannie have followed Demetri there? Andy had gone after Dillon without a thought. And had been amply rewarded for her trouble. The memory of Dillon and her making love in the shower ambushed her. She'd just have to break the rules again and take a look.

She was passing the Spa, when she noticed light coming from inside. Someone must be taking a late-night swim. Or an intimate whirlpool?

She tried the door. It was unlocked and she went inside. The hallway was empty. The women's changing room was dark. She began to feel a little spooked and wished she hadn't rejected Dillon's offer to help. But she had to start getting over him. He'd certainly made it clear that he was going to get over her.

Now she regretted confiding in him. Well, she was here to empower her womanhood, so she would just make the search herself. She could sort through her feelings later.

The last door led to the pool and whirlpool. She could see light through the square window in the door. She opened the door a crack, stuck her head in. The lights nearest to her were on, and the underwater pool lights, but the rest of the room was in shadows.

“Jeannie?” she called. Listened. Heard nothing but the bubbling water of the whirlpool. And since the whirlpool was on a timer, she knew she'd found the miscreants. Anger flared in her gut. They'd heard her and were trying to be quiet so they wouldn't be caught. And she knew for certain that it wasn't Jeannie he had in that whirlpool, because Jeannie would have answered, made some raucous joke, and Andy could have crept away, embarrassed, but relieved.

She strode past the pool, her fists clenched, the heels of her sandals sending up echoes as they clicked over the tiled floor. She wasn't sure what she was going to say when she found them; she was more inclined to knock Demetri's teeth out.

If she found Dillon in this situation, she'd neuter him. And she was tempted to do the same to Demetri, then yank out Gloria's hair. And where was Gloria's slave while all this was going on? If he'd been doing his job, she wouldn't have the time to roam.

“I know you're there,” she said as she came up to the whirlpool. It was dark at this end of the room, but she could see them—at least one of them—in the water.

“Demetri, you swine.”

Someone moved in the shadows across from her.

The lights flared on, and Andy blinked against the sudden brightness. The first thing she saw was Dillon standing on the opposite side of the whirlpool.

“What are you doing here?” she asked stupidly.

“You didn't really think I was going to let you wander around in the dark alone.”

“But what about—” She looked down into the whirlpool.

Demetri was there all right. But he was alone. Floating facedown in the churning water.

Andy blinked again, at first not believing what she was seeing. Swallowed down bile as it began to register. She stared down at Demetri, then back to Dillon. His face was expressionless, hard. She shook her head. Surely he hadn't…No it wasn't possible. And why would he?

She became aware of footsteps hurrying across the room. A scream pierced the air and bounced around the walls.

“Stop her,” ordered Dillon. Andy turned around just as Jeannie ran past and tried to climb into the whirlpool.

Andy grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. “Don't, Jeannie. It's too late.”

Andy looked frantically at Dillon.

He shook his head.

Demetri was dead.

“Jeannie, come away. You can't save him.” She began pulling the struggling woman away from the whirlpool.

Suddenly people were crowding through the door.

Andy had done enough thrillers to know that this was likely a crime scene. Not many people drowned in a whirlpool. She began to drag Jeannie toward the group of staring goddesses and attendants, wondering how she could handle both. But Dillon had anticipated her. He was already pushing people back.

Andy saw Evelyn and Loubelle standing in the crowd, mouths open in shock. She thrust Jeannie toward them and hurried back to Dillon's side.

Bernard Bliss pushed his way through the knot of people. “What's happening here?”

“There's been an accident,” said Dillon, sounding cool, sounding as if he were used to finding dead bodies all the time.
Or killing them.
Andy pushed the thought away. That was an awful way to think. And after he'd promised to help her find Mac.

Bliss stretched to see around Dillon and gasped. “Good God.” He turned around and searched the crowd. “JoJo. Send the nurse here at once and have the MedEvac ready to lift off immediately. Someone should be doing CPR. Where's Hans?” Hans stepped out of the crowd and motioned to two men to get Demetri out of the water.

Dillon stepped in front of them, blocking the way. “I'm afraid it's too late for CPR.”

“How do—” Andy closed her mouth on the words. How did he know it was too late? Demetri might still be alive. Unless he'd checked, or unless he'd killed him.
Stop thinking like that,
she ordered herself.