Vanity (18 page)

‘This is not right,' she whispered to Ben, nodding in their direction.

‘Yup. You're right. Shall we go back to the boat?'

‘Uh huh.' She kissed him, full on the mouth, wanting to kiss him more, then swam back to the shore, looking like a mermaid with her long, pale blonde hair streaming out behind her.

When they got back to the speedboat, both still joyously happy and ridiculously turned on by the other's nakedness, Ben opened the cool box. They had bought two bottles of sparkling rosé, and he opened one of them with a flourish, as he inexpertly steered the boat away from the island and further out to sea, away from prying eyes.

When the boat came to rest, the only other craft to be seen were far away, on the horizon.

‘What do we do now, then?' Natalia asked, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

‘What you do is lie down, on your back, right there.' Ben kissed her some more. ‘Leave the rest to me, and forget about everything.'

Still naked, and feeling the sun hot on every inch of her body, Natalia did as he said, presenting herself, supine and vulnerable on the boat's gleaming white stern.

Ben started to kiss her nipples, which swelled as soon as his lips touched them.

‘You have the most beautiful body I've ever seen.'

‘I …' Natalia started to say something, but couldn't continue when he was doing such things to her. Instead she clasped his head to her breast, wanting more and more. ‘Oh, please …'

‘How does this feel?' Ben picked up the bottle of fizzy rosé and poured it all over her taut torso. He started to lap it out of her concave belly and her moans got deeper. ‘Or maybe this?'

He poured it all over her exposed pussy, which tingled with the bubbles. The blazing sun soon made the bubbles hot, which took her to new, exquisite sensory levels.

‘Oh, Ben, oh, God, Mr Movie Star, oh, don't stop, oh
…'

‘Would you like me to drink it out of you?'

‘Oh, yes, please, drink me, fuck me, take me.' Natalia was beyond caring now.

Ben looked up at her from under his long, thick lashes, and said, ‘One thing at a time. Drinking first, didn't you say?' And he proceeded to lick and suck, and lick and suck, all the while pouring more fizzy rosé wine into her cunt.

Natalia's orgasm was loud, her cries mingling with the sound of the seabirds and the lapping of the sea at the side of the boat. When she came to her senses, she raised herself up on her elbows and looked directly at Ben,
challenging
him again with her wide-apart, up-slanted eyes.

‘I thank you. The drinking was good. Now, maybe the fucking?'

‘Oh, Jesus.' The Mediterranean sun was hot on his back, and as he looked at the long, long planes of Natalia's wanton, naked body, he hoped he would be able to control himself. ‘Are you sure?' Remembering the state she'd been in the night before, he didn't want to take advantage of her vulnerability, massively turned on though he was.

‘Oh, just fuck me, please.'

Ben didn't need asking again. As he thrust into her, she put her slender arms around him, drawing him in for a kiss. Her long, long legs were wrapped around his back. His cock was being sucked into some kind of heavenly vortex. All he knew, as he got ever closer to his climax, was that he loved her. He had to be with this woman for the rest of his life.

‘… and CUT!' shouted Pavel.

‘Asshole.' Amy directed her comment at Ben, looking at him meanly, still thoroughly miffed that he appeared immune to her juvenile charms. She had been an attention-seeking nightmare throughout the running-along-the-beach scene, constantly asking what her motivation was and needing Guru Mogadishu, whose real name was Darren, to calm her down in case she had another of her legendary ‘panic attacks'. The panic attacks that were known to
everybody
else as tantrums.

‘You too, darling, with bells on.' Ben grinned at her, happy as Larry, his ankles still cool in the frothing surf. He caught the eye of Eloise the make-up artist, who laughed.

Natalia, watching from a safe distance behind a cluster of palm trees, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and an
enormous
pair of shades, laughed too. Since that amazing day on the island and the speedboat, two weeks earlier, Ben had come back to her yacht every night after filming and they had delighted in one another's bodies, Natalia's years of expertise more than matching Ben's skill in the sack. Again and again they had brought each other to explosive orgasm, never quite satiated, still wanting more and more. Again and again they had cuddled, long limbs entwined, whispering endearments in the dark.

In the daytime, at a loose end, she had bought DVDs of all the TV shows he had starred in back in the UK, and thought that, much as she adored him, his looks were more impressive than his talent. She had felt guilty about this, and wanted to think he had improved since then, which was one of her reasons for asking if she could watch a scene from
Beyond the Sea
being shot. Ben had been more than happy, in fact wanted to introduce her to the rest of the cast and crew with puppyish
enthusiasm
, but Natalia had insisted on discretion. After throwing caution to the wind about who saw them together those first couple of days, she was starting to feel uneasy.

‘Remember, I am being blackmailed,' she had said, kissing the tip of his cock. ‘It may not be so good for your public image to be seen with me.' Hence the shades, hat,
calf-le
ngth kaftan and her current hiding place.

She had been right about the improvement in Ben's acting, thank God. It was almost as though he were too perfect, too larger-than-life, for TV. Movie acting suited him down to the ground, and he stole the show in every scene. Which was another reason, as though she needed one, that Amy Lascelles was so pissed off.

‘What the fuck is that old bitch doing behind that tree?' She pointed in Natalia's direction, but Natalia had thrown herself to the ground, commando-style, covering herself in sand for camouflage purposes.

The entire crew looked over, Ben's fists clenched as though he wanted to hit Amy, but all they could see were several coconut palms, swaying in the light breeze.

‘Hey, hey, babes, calm down.' Guru Mogadishu sauntered over and put an arm around her uptight little shoulders, reminding himself that anything was better than Basingstoke, where he'd grown up, and he'd be back with his boyfriend in LA soon enough. ‘Karma, gorgeous. Beautiful trees, huh?'

Amy looked at him and gave a snort of derision.

‘Fucking trees. Seen one palm tree, seen 'em all.' And she stalked back off to her beachside trailer, her little bottom in its frilly red-and-white polka-dot bikini quivering with rage.

Once he was sure that the rest of the crew was
concentrating
on the last take, on the massive digital video screens, and not taking any notice of him, Ben gave Eloise a brief hug that left her breathless with longing and
sauntered
over to the trees behind which he knew Natalia had been hiding.

‘Nat? Darling, where are you?'

‘
Here
,'
she whispered, waving a slender foot at him from behind a beach hut. Following the trail in the sand, he saw that she had slithered at least twenty feet, snake-like, on her belly, until she was sure she could sit upright without drawing attention to herself.

Now she was absolutely covered in sand, trying to shake it out of her nose, mouth and long blonde hair. Her eyes were still shut, her shades and hat clutched in her hands.

‘Oh, sweetheart.' Ben laughed. ‘Look at you!'

‘Pffffft.' She spat sand out of her mouth and started moving her hands towards her eyes.

‘No, careful of your eyes. Wait till I've got the worst off, then you can open them.' Ben started brushing the fine granules down her cheeks with extreme tenderness.

‘It's OK, I am not made of porcelain!' Natalia laughed. ‘But I thank you, sweetie. That is better.' She opened her eyes, which drank him in unashamedly, just as they always did now when alighting on his face. ‘Have you finished for today?'

‘Pretty much. Actually, nearly finished full stop. All of my scenes with Jack Meadows are going to be filmed back in LA, on set. Can't say I'm sorry, really. I'll be glad to see the back of the insufferable Ms Lascelles.'

‘Yes, I can understand that. Does that mean you will be going soon?'

‘Don't sound so sad, Nat. I can stay another couple of weeks, I'm sure, and then – well, surely you can come back to LA for a bit?' Ben was still on Cloud Nine, full of that bouncy optimism where everything seems possible.

‘Yes, I could do that.' Natalia smiled. They hadn't discussed what might happen once filming finished, neither of them wanting to burst their beautiful bubble.

‘Actually, I've booked a table tonight at this fabulous place I know, up in the hills of Provence, away from all the paparazzi and stuff. I thought maybe we could have a bit of a chat about what we're going to do after all this. I can't bear to imagine my life without you, to be honest.'

Sitting on the beach, her blonde hair and kaftan caked in sand, Natalia started to relax once more.

Under the vine-covered trellis on the
terrasse
of the bustling restaurant, nobody was taking too much notice of Natalia and Ben in the corner, except perhaps to murmur sotto voce what an exquisite couple they made. Ben had instructed the crew on Natalia's yacht to sail to St Maxime, where a driver had been waiting for them. Thence they were taken up winding lanes, past huge trees of vividly yellow and highly scented mimosa, until they reached Plan de la Tour, a little village surrounded by oak and pine forests, all narrow sloping streets, terracotta rooftiles and ancient churches.

On the restaurant's
terrasse
the lights were low, but enhanced by candles on every table and the extraordinary sight of fireflies glowing almost fluorescent in the distance.

‘This is beautiful,' said Natalia, smiling and radiant in the candlelight as the cicadas decided as one to up their volume. ‘I thank you.'

‘So are you.' Ben was aware he was being cheesy but he couldn't help it. He had never been in love before and was now relishing every soppy minute of it.

He wasn't stupid. Given Natalia's age, nationality, extraordinary sexual skills and enormous wealth, he
realized
it was highly likely that prostitution had featured at some stage in her past. It wasn't rocket science; she was being blackmailed, for fuck's sake. But he couldn't bring himself to hold it against her. In fact, he rather admired her for making the most of herself and hauling herself out of what must have been seriously grim beginnings.

But he was worried about her. Blackmail was no joke.

‘So do you really think you could come and spend some time with me in LA?' Ben laid his hand on Natalia's arm. ‘I should be able to travel a bit once I've finished filming, but I'm pretty tied up until then.'

‘I … I don't know, sweetie. I can travel, for sure, but I think maybe it would be wrong for you to be mixed up with me. You don't know much about me. You are about to be international superstar. You still not know why I am being blackmailed, though it is possible you have heard rumours about me, yes?'

‘Not really. But I think I can guess. Listen, Nat.' He lowered his voice. ‘I don't give a fuck if you were the most notorious hooker in the entire Eastern Bloc. It's something you had to do and you used your best assets …'

‘
What?
'

‘… your body
and
your brain. Anybody who has made as much money as you have, from nothing, has to be really fucking clever in my book. And you know how much I
lurve
your body.'

He raised his eyebrows, faux-lasciviously, and Natalia laughed. How did this man manage to disarm her so
thoroughly
, every single time?

‘I thank you. But I will not give you the details, OK?'

‘I
so
don't want to know the gory details, darling.' Ben camped it up and Natalia laughed again, leaning forward to kiss him over the table.

‘I love you, Mr Movie Star.'

‘And I love you, Nat, from the bottom of my heart.'

When they left the restaurant, they were too wrapped up in one another to notice the paparazzo
lurking in the bushes.

NEW BRIT ON THE BLOCK SQUIRES BLONDE WITH SHADY PAST
ran the headline. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Natalia looked in dismay at the gossip rag that Georgiou had placed in front of her, on one of the horrible Formica tables in the seedy bar on the outskirts of Saint-Tropez.

‘I think that this interesting new development makes my knowledge of your past all the more valuable. Do you not agree, Talia? I think perhaps it would not be so good for your pretty new boyfriend's career if it came out that he is fucking a former teenage whore, hmmm?'

‘I had no alternative and you know it, Georgie.'

He put his head on one side and pretended to consider. ‘Hmmm. I don't think the big studios would see it like that. The movie-going public can be quite puritanical, and a scandal like this could ruin him.'

‘You are disgusting,' said Natalia.

‘Still, you have done well for yourself, I will not deny that.' He started drumming nicotine-stained and heavily ringed fingers on the table. ‘Now you have a nice life, a comfortable life. It would be a shame, would it not, to jeopardize what you have now? You can easily afford to keep me happy …'

Natalia sighed, resigned to what she had to do.

‘OK, you bastard. How much do you want this time?'

She had to write the letter five times as she kept soaking the thick cream paper, her tears mingling with expensive black ink to form rivulets that blurred her carefully chosen words. She had considered telling him it was all one great big lie, that she had never loved him, had just been using him for his beautiful body. But in the end she hadn't been able to bring herself to do so. She knew he'd never buy it; what they'd had together had been too all-consuming. And she didn't want to hurt him unnecessarily, to cast a shadow on what must now remain just a wonderful memory for both of them.