Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (33 page)

Dee was uncontrollable by this stage, laughing so hard she had wet eyes.  The last thing she expected was the cracking slap that caught her across the cheek.  Her head rocked, then returned to focus on Tony who was looking satisfied with his solution.

"
I'm the dumb shit
?" Nick yelled right next to her ear.  "What the fuck do you call that?"

"She was hysterical and...  Now look, you've done it again," he accused as Dee smiled despite the pain in her cheek. 

She bit her lower lip but it was no good.  A giggle escaped. 

"If you hit her again I'll tell Xavion," Nick threatened.  "I didn't hurt her on purpose."

But Tony had lowered his head and was kissing her and Dee found it a much more effective solution.  Whatever the cause of her hysteria, it dissolved under the heat of Tony's experienced tongue, and despite the number of times her body had been aroused that day, it stirred anew.

"Don't you pair get horny again," Nick warned.  "We gotta go.  Now."

"Mmm."  Dee rubbed her nose against Tony's and smiled into his eyes.  "I love tropical storms."  He kissed her again and she melted, barely aware of the whisper in her ear from below.

"Maybe you do where you come from, Babe.  But not in these waters.  There's nothing to slow them down out here, just thousands of miles of ocean and - "

Tony wrenched his lips away from hers to slap a hand over Nick's mouth, real menace in his eyes.  Dee found the sudden change from his passion of a second earlier mystifying.  She blinked, then cast her mind back over what Nick had just said. 

"We're in the middle of an ocean?"

"Nick has a big mouth," Tony said, glaring at his brother.  "And he also has a big cock, but he won't have that for much longer if he keeps blabbing."

"Hey, Man.  I was joking.  Just trying to scare Wendee.  Right, Wendee?"

The Pacific Ocean? 

Dee dragged her thoughts back.  "Sure, Nick."  She reached a hand over her head to ruffle his hair.  "Besides, Never Land isn't
any
place.  It just is.  Fourth star on from the moon and fly straight through till morning, right?"

"Yeah.  That's it."  Nick was laughing but Tony was still tense.  She could feel it in his body.

"Storm's coming," he said, pushing away from her. "We have to get back."

Carefully, they disengaged themselves and rolled out of the hammock.  The twins were keen to go but with a little coaxing she managed to extract permission for a final quick swim. 

Her body was lethargic but she pushed it across the sand and into the much cooler water.  The sky had turned dark very quickly and the violence of the coming storm gave her impetus.  She rubbed herself all over and stumbled back to the shoreline where she turned for a last gaze out across the waves.  There was nothing.  No land.  No ships. 

How far was the visible horizon line?  Four kilometres?  Damn, why couldn't she remember?  How could she have forgotten such a basic fact - a distance any one of her students would have known.

Any one of her students.

She swivelled away, hugging her shoulders against a cold more insidious than that produced by cool wind on wet skin.

"Wendee?"  One of the twins was loping across the sand towards her, his loincloth flapping in the strengthening gusts.  "Come on.  We gotta go.  Xavion sent Josh lookin' - "  It was Nick.  He frowned and touched her trembling arm.  "Hey, are you all right?"

She shook her head, biting her lip.  The tears were close again.  First hysterical laughter and now this.  What was wrong with her?

He looked at her for a moment.  "You're tired out, Babe," he decided, scooping her into his arms to stride back up the beach with her.  "But don't worry.  Xavion'll look after you," he promised, and Dee found herself calming to the thought.  Xavion would look after her.  He was her Champion. 

She rested her cheek against Nick's golden chest and closed her eyes.  So tired suddenly.  Nick reached the others and she heard them talking.

"Is she ill?"  Josh sounded worried.

"Nah, just tired.  I'll carry her back."

"You didn't say something to her?" Tony accused.  "She was looking out... there."

"I just walked up to her and she started blubbering.  I didn't say a thing.  I swear."

"You better not because if the boss finds out you've - "

                                        
Chapter Eighteen

"There's obviously something wrong, something upsetting her," Belle argued convincingly.  "Why not move her on?"

Pietre frowned at the view screen then looked back at Belle again.  Her idea had merit, but he doubted there were good intentions behind it.  What exactly did Belle hope to gain?

"Are the mermaids ready?" he asked.

"They've been ready for a week.  They're bored stupid."

"They are boring
and
stupid," Pietre corrected her, "but they're your heiresses, and as such I will tolerate them."

She smiled acknowledgment, a mere flick of facial muscles.  "Then you'll move her?"

   He looked back to the screen, manipulating the controls to gain maximum enlargement of the frames taken while Wendee had been swimming. 

The anguish on her face as she'd swivelled back into view had startled him.  He'd imagined her to be settling in, enjoying herself.  The thought had given him pleasure and he was upset to have had that pleasure replaced by concern.  He wasn't accustomed to concerning himself with other people's contentment.  Yet this Wendee had engaged his emotions, or at least was unwittingly sharing her own with him. 

It was disconcerting and he should dismiss them, dismiss her.  Yet he did not.  He welcomed the unsettling intrusion into his ordered life and in the deepest part of his psyche, felt a certain rightness to it.  Why?

"So.  The mermaids?"

He dragged his attention back to Belle.  Deliver her to the mermaids?  He tried to weigh up the pros and cons but there was no rationality where Wendee was concerned and analysing his motives was like wading through treacle.  It drained him.  It also made no sense.  He fell back on instinct.

"Very well," he said.  "You can take her to them in the morning.  When she's rested." 

"
Moi
?"  Belle touched her chest in disbelief.  "You want me to go into that stuffy dungeon and - "

"Please," Pietre interrupted softly.  "Introduce her to the mermaids.  Stay with them a while."  He let his eyes stray over her body, encased in a cloud of white chiffon - a risque wedding cake ornament.  "Be Tinkerbell for her."

She mellowed, smiled.

"Are you free tonight?"  He changed the subject before she could change her mind.

"I may be," she replied, all aloof courtesan now.  No more the insecure pixie.  "What did you have in mind?"

"An amusement."

"Dangerous?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Then I'm free." 

They exchanged a knowing smile.  "A Russian ballerina is to be killed tonight by the FBI.  In Auckland.  She's a spy."

"And...?"  Her arrogance was breathtaking. 

"I want you to seduce her.  Keep her backstage.  Let the understudy take her place." 

"The FBI agent?" Belle purred.

"You know me too well,
Ma Chere
," Pietre said, offering her a bland smile.  "A
menage a trois
?"

"Absolutely."  Her parting glance, before she turned away, was heavy lidded.  "Give me an hour, I want to dress."

"Not this?"  He fingered a translucent strip, imagining the frothy concoction on someone statuesque. Someone like... Wendee?  On her it would barely cover from nipple to pubis, and instead of crawling across the floor, the train would cascade down behind those long, long legs to settle in an adoring pool at her feet.