The Way He Moves. Marcia King-Gamble

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      TRACY DOWNED another glass of Alka Seltzer and hoped her stomach would settle. In half an hour she had a dance rehearsal and she expected the phone to ring any moment. When it did, she wasted no time picking up.

      “Hello,” she said, breathlessly.

      “It’s Kali. I’m calling as promised. An Argentine woman found the pendant. Her name is Serena d’Andrea and she’s in a penthouse suite. She’s a babe, tall, stunning and has the most beautiful eyes. The men on this cruise will be tripping over their feet to dance with her.”

      “Has the video crew interviewed her yet?”

      “No, she was in a hurry, so they’ll do it at the Bon Voyage party in La Belle Epoque. Why are you so interested in this pendant anyway?”

      “Call me a hopeless romantic.”

      “Aren’t we all? Listen, I have to run. This Rhythm Dancers group is driving me crazy. They’ve taken over the ship and there’s a very long line at the front desk.”

      After Kali hung up, Tracy paced the small cabin. Time was running out. She needed to get her hand on that pendant and soon. Sal had grown impatient and his threats that she would never see her baby boy again had increased. He’d managed to get hired on board as an escort. That sent a clear message that he thought she was a screw up.

      With some trepidation Tracy punched in Sal’s number and waited for him to pick up. What a con artist he was. He’d certainly sold her a bill of goods. When they were dating he’d told her what she’d wanted to hear, and she’d married him convinced that he would take care of her. But once the ring was on her finger, he’d turned into a woman’s worst nightmare. He became abusive.

      In a matter of time she found out that Sal Morena was no more than a small time hood. He needed the attention of women to keep his ego fed, and he enjoyed manipulating them and seeing their reactions. It was all about Sal—no one else mattered. How he’d managed to talk his way into a job as a dance escort was anyone’s guess. The man was no Fred Astaire.

      Tracy’s anxiety built as the phone continued to ring. She was about to hang up when Sal’s gruff voice finally came on the line.

      “Prego!”

      “Sal, it’s Tracy.”

      “What’s taken you so long to get back to me?”

      “I was waiting for my friend at the Guest Relations desk to call. An Argentinean woman by the name of Serena d’Andrea found the pendant. She’s in a suite on Zeus. She’s a member of the Rhythm Dancers group and she’ll be attending the Bon Voyage party.”

      “Grazie,” Sal snorted. “I’ll be attending that party, too, and I’ll be sure to become acquainted with the d’Andrea woman. I’ll pretend to be interested in her, regardless of whether she’s a dog or not.” Another raucous laugh followed. “I’ll just have to fantasize that she’s a supermodel, and do whatever it takes to get my hands on that pendant.”

      What a pig he was. She must have been out of her mind to have slept with him, much less married the man.

      “How is Franco, Sal? When will you give him back to me?”

      An ugly snort followed, and another derisive chuckle.

      “When you deliver on your promises, and I have that pendant in my hot little hands, then maybe you’ll get your son back.”

      “But Sal that’s not what we agreed…”

      “But Sal, nothing. You’ve had ample opportunity to get me that pendant, and you’ve botched each and every attempt. That weasel Giorgio managed to get himself arrested without paying my gambling debt. Now that pendant is mine. Excuse me. I must go and get ready for the party.”

      “And I have dance rehearsal,” Tracy said, smothering a sob.

      She laid the receiver down and swiped at her eye. What more did Sal expect of her? She was feeding him information as soon as she got it. And in exchange he had promised to give her back her son. Their son, though you would never guess it from his actions.

      Her child was the one person who loved her unconditionally. She would do just about anything to hold him in her arms again.

      She had to help Sal get that pendant. She had to.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ON BACCHUS DECK, the five hundred plus passengers who’d signed up for the Rhythm Dancers charter were packed into La Belle Epoque. When Serena and Pia entered the dance club, people were milling around the champagne bar sipping colorful drinks.

      The information in the pamphlet indicated that the group was a diverse one, coming from different dance clubs around the world. Many passengers had signed up for the chance to rub shoulders with the pros and take lessons from the best. The more confident dancers were already out on the floor executing complicated twist and turns. So much for non-competitive dancing.

      The Bon Voyage party had been touted as the ultimate ice breaker: an opportunity for dancers to mingle and get to know each other. From the looks of things, it was shaping up to be a very competitive event, with dancers using the occasion to showcase themselves. Since it was standing room only, Serena and Pia found a spot off to the side with a decent view of the floor.

      “I’m going to have to try my best not to analyze some of these people,’ Pia said, “I’ll get us drinks. If you’re not here when I get back I’ll find you.” With that she hurried off.

      Serena was left to people watch. She’d come aboard hoping СКАЧАТЬ