8.4

Naked women – strapped to a line of totem poles – their hands out pleading –

“Help me.”

A naked man! With a red hot poker jutting from his groin!

My God – it’s Singh! Coming towards me with intent!

I’m powerless – I can’t resist!

Oh my God – he’s spinning me around!

I can’t stop it – I can’t move!

He’s bending me over!

He’s…  

Marlon woke in a pool of sweat –

Jesus…

What the hell was that about?

8.5

As Rita snored quietly Max lay perfectly still, wide awake but trapped – her arm looped around his neck like an anchor. Slowly he extricated himself – waited for the rhythm of the snore to settle – and finally stole out of bed like a naughty three-year-old.

He hovered in the shadow and looked at her – so beautiful in her abandon. When she didn’t stir he sneaked out onto the balcony, sat down, and gazed dreamily out over the bay. If he’d been a smoker he would have lit up.

Mate.

What are you going to do?

He’d seen a lot of mistakes in his time hanging around football clubs. And the same old message had always rung true – “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is!”

There was no doubt Rita was a beauty – flawless physically and super smart. But there was definitely something not quite right with her.  Why, if she had all this money, was she travelling economy class? And why, if she was going off on this fabulous “anything you want” trip, didn’t she have any of her own friends travelling with her?

She probably wasn’t even rich at all – she didn’t seem rich! Not rich like some of the girls that used to turn up to the Carlton rooms with the Aston waiting in the car park!