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Authors: Roberta Latow

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BOOK: Secret Souls
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‘I recognised her from photographs. Five minutes with her and I knew from the interviews I conducted in New York and Tennessee that she was the very woman I’m investigating.’

‘I know this woman, Larry, her life bears no resemblance to that of the woman you described.’

‘Then how do you explain that she’s using the woman’s name? I’m looking for Chadwick Chase, and she was introduced to me as Chadwick Chase.’

Manoussos put his hand to his forehead and began massaging it. He closed his eyes as if he were dizzy and trying to regain his balance. An uncomfortable silence descended on them. Larry Snell rose from his chair and left the table. Manoussos needed some space and Larry intended to give it to him. When he returned to the table it was with a bottle of scotch and two clean glasses. He poured an inch of scotch into each glass, handed one of them to Manoussos and sat down. Manoussos drank his down in one gulp.

‘She’s your lady! I had no idea.’

‘How could you have?’

‘Is it serious?’

‘Marriage serious,’ answered Manoussos.

‘You mean, you’re married?’

‘I was going to ask her tonight.’

‘Look, I’m not here to arrest her. I’m here to investigate her.’

‘You are assuming she is the woman you’re looking for, Larry. You had better reserve judgement on that. I have been living with Chadwick for four months and not one single fact of this other woman’s life bears any resemblance to what my lady has told me about hers.’

‘Manoussos, this is very awkward for us both. How do you want me to handle this?’

‘How had you planned to handle this?’

‘With discretion, keeping my identity a secret, surveying her and her lifestyle. Eventually, when I have gathered all the facts I can about her and her behaviour here, possibly confront her. If I
can get her trust, I’ll reveal my real identity and hope she will tell me the truth about what happened to her husband. The reason I’m here is because her husband’s children want to know what happened the night their father died. Why, three weeks before his death, he changed his will in her favour and left her eighty million dollars and them a peppercorn each. They do not consider that normal behaviour on their father’s part. They need to know to ease the pain of their loss, their being so utterly rejected by him. But as I told you before, so far they are not going to like what they hear about dear old dad.’

‘Then I suggest you carry on your investigation but I would be grateful if you kept your findings to yourself and your clients. In fact, I would ask you for your word on that. I want no scandal, not a hint of it getting out here in Livakia. You will understand that if I offer you friendship and co-operation, it will have to be on the basis that I expect you to respect the life Chadwick and I have together as private and nothing to do with your investigation? You have a job to do, you do it.’

‘And what about you and Chadwick?’

‘That’s some loaded question, Larry. What you really mean to ask me is what will I do if I discover that the Chadwick Chase I know and love does not exist, that she is a figment of the Chadwick Chase you are investigating’s imagination? That I have fallen deeply in love with a beautiful, erotically tuned woman and a tissue of lies. A better question would have been that if you are proven right that my Chadwick is your Chadwick, how am I going to face being deceived by the only woman I ever wanted to marry?’

‘Manoussos, I’m sorry about this. Hell, am I sorry.’

‘So am I, Larry. It’s all been said. Let’s just get on with our lives and see where it leads us.’

Manoussos called for the bill but Larry insisted on paying and together the two men walked along the crescent-shaped port to Elefherakis’s house, Manoussos giving Larry a colourful picture of the pleasure seekers of Livakia.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when the two men entered the room where Larry had first seen Chadwick Chase.
Borsolino
had
been a New York Broadway musical some twenty years before and the beat of its music filled the room loudly. Several couples were dancing; Mark, Astrid, and Elefherakis alone but around each other. From the shadows the men watched Chadwick rise and hand a long-haired sleeping dog to someone before taking the floor. She moved to the music that seemed to reach down to her soul and as she danced something from the depth of her being seemed to rise and take her over. A very intimate, sensuous, inner life was there for all to see, and they did, and were mesmerised, seduced. One by one the others in the room stopped dancing and gravitated from the centre of the room to stand around and watch her. They saw Chadwick come alive as they had never seen her before. She displayed a beauty that left the room in wonder and admiration. She danced, oblivious to her surroundings. She was somewhere far away. Time stood still while she danced and every person in that room sensed that they were watching that very special something that few women or men possess: pure lust for life.

It was very nearly midnight before Chadwick and Manoussos made the steep climb up to her house. This had not been how either of them had planned to spend the evening. But the easygoing life of Livakia made light of changing plans.

Larry Snell could attest to that. When he had started out for Livakia the last thing he was thinking about was a new erotic awakening. True, when he had met Astrid, who had a loose, free uncomplicated sexiness about her, he had felt an instant attraction to her. Her flirting with him was not only flattering but provocative. She promised much in the way she moved, in her husky voice, if not in words. She insinuated out-of-bounds sex games. He had anticipated most definitely great sex before the night was out.

As the evening progressed, it was difficult not to sense his assumption was correct. He understood very nearly at once that Elefherakis was in the equation: lust, a little depravity. The two men recognised that Astrid wanted them both, ‘a threesome to fuck by,’ she had whispered to each of them as they watched Chadwick dance.

It had been as simple as Chadwick’s exquisite sexuality firing up lust, a tremendous hunger for raw unadulterated sex among the three of them. After the last guest had left and they were alone Elefherakis, Larry and Astrid linked arms and walked through the house to Elefherakis’s bedroom discarding their clothes as they went.

Astrid and Elefherakis had a history of sex together, they were attuned to each other’s sexual fantasies and well versed in acting them out. They recognised in Larry unfulfilled sexual hunger and took him over. The long blonde-haired, blue-eyed, naked Astrid was a junoesque figure: the large, magnificent breasts, the dark nimbus around her long and fat nipples, the narrow waist and large hips, rounded bottom, she was made to fuck, suck and taste. Elefherakis was a virile hunk of masculinity, a libertine already erect, his eyes shone with desire for debauchery all forms of the sexual experience.

Larry had been with two men and a woman before but not for many years. He had very nearly forgotten how thrilling it was to experience sex with both a man and a woman at the same time. The excitement of being devoured by both Astrid and Elefherakis, indeed of devouring them. A willing cunt wanting to be riven by two men who want the same woman and hold no fear of sharing the sexual experience with each other. To feel the full flow of their orgasms, a coming together where they would all three ascend into that moment of erotic bliss where for a few seconds infinity opened up for them, nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

Their first of many orgasms together that night set Larry free. The bliss of tasting and feeling Astrid’s orgasms, Elefherakis’s smooth silky come, watching his sexual playmates enjoying his own orgasms until they were all three steeped in exquisite debauchery such as he had never known before took over Larry’s entire being.

How clever Astrid and Elefherakis were in their generosity and affection towards their guest. Before dawn he was a part of their sexual life and not at all a stranger, a friend who they had set free. He knew as they did that they had added to his life, changed it in a
way for the better, a way he had never realised he had wanted so desperately.

Yes indeed, Livakia did make light of changing plans and, he realised, changing lives.

Chapter 10

‘Tell me something about your husband.’

Chadwick was lying naked in Manoussos’s arms. He had been stroking her hair and kissing her: light, sweet kisses on her cheeks, her lips, her chin. He surprised her with that particular request because Manoussos never asked such things never, in fact, asked her anything much about her life before they met. Had she been naive believing he never would?

‘Like what?’

‘Anything you like.’

‘Well, you know I loved him very much.’

‘And he died in a car accident. I believe that’s what you told Rachel?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Tell me something else about him?’

She sighed and lay back in his arms. ‘He used to tell me, “You are the beat of my heart, I never want you to grow up; I want you to remain ageless, a goddess, a madonna, and only mine.” ’

‘And were you only his?’

‘Yes, until he died.’

‘How old was your husband when he died, Chadwick?’

She pulled herself up against the pillows but remained in Manoussos’s arms. ‘Why are we talking about my husband?’

‘Maybe because I’m thinking of becoming a husband myself.’

‘Manoussos!’

‘You can’t be surprised to hear that I love you more than life itself, that it is unbearable for me to think of not being with you forever? Ergo marriage, husband, wife. How old, Chadwick, you didn’t say?’

‘Thirty-three,’ she answered him.

‘Childhood sweethearts, I think you said?’

‘Yes.’

‘And it was a happy marriage?’

‘The happiest.’

‘Do you think, if I were to ask you to marry me, that I could make you as happy?’

‘If this is a proposal of marriage, it’s an odd one, Manoussos.’

‘Why odd? I would think that before stepping into such a commitment, deciding whether I can make you happy is fundamental.’

‘Not when you know you make me happy, that I never want to leave Crete or you, that my life here with you is a new kind of life for me.’

‘And I’m a new kind of love.’

‘Yes, like no other I have ever known. I feel newborn in your love for me, in my loving you. There are times I can hardly believe I lived any life at all until I met you and lost my heart and my soul in one glance,’ she told him, emotion cracking in her voice, causing a tremor throughout the body in his arms that he so coveted.

Manoussos drew her closer to him and was choked with emotion. That she should love him so much, this enigmatic beauty whom he knew was and would always be his one great love, simply overwhelmed him. They remained silent, clinging to each other.

The dawn light was just coming through the windows and the bedroom was beginning to take form. A mirror opposite the bed caught the light and Chadwick could see a reflection of them lying on the bed entwined in each other’s arms. Mere shadows in the half-light.

Chadwick slipped on to her side, wanting to see her lover’s face. How she loved his youthful good looks, the firm muscular flesh, his sexual hunger. She could taste the fruits of his lust in her mouth, could feel their orgasms caressing her womb. The very thought caused her to tighten. She wanted never to let that stream of sexual dreams flow away. She slipped her hand between his
legs and caressed his semi-erect penis, lowered her mouth to it, to kiss it with first her lips and then her tongue.

Manoussos closed his eyes and sighed. How many times had they lived and died in lust together, taken sex and their erotic games and adventures to the brink of no return – and then gone beyond that to die the little death in orgasm, only to be born afresh? He had always known from the very moment he had set eyes on her that she was a dangerous woman. There had to be pitfalls to loving a woman who reached down not only to the bright but the darkest side of your soul and commanded: Give it to me, your life without boundaries. I want it all for love and the thrills, to go further, always one step further, or we have nothing. That had been her way with him, and could be his ruin. She was indeed the siren of Greek myth and her song was sweet and strong. It filled his ears and drew him to her. It was an odd proposal of marriage, but there it was, he had made it, and would marry her as soon as possible.

For a few minutes emotion had blinded him from seeing that Larry Snell would not go away. It had deafened him to that little voice within which told him: Listen with your ears, not your heart. He could have made it, put aside the doubts for the woman he loved if only she had remained silent. But she didn’t.

Chadwick broke the hush that lay between them. ‘I think you should know that when Hannibal died, our marriage died along with him and so did that long-time love. He wanted it that way.’

That was the first time ever she’d mentioned her husband’s name. Manoussos felt sick; he was grateful for the half-light in the room. It gave him a cover of darkness to compose himself in. Hannibal was the name Larry Snell had given for the father of the Chase brother and sister calling for an investigation into their step-mother’s life.

Some minutes passed, the two lovers still entwined in each other’s arms, before Manoussos regained his composure enough to ask, ‘And did you always give your husband what he wanted?’

‘Always.’

Manoussos’s mind was spinning. He would make her mention
her husband’s name again, that would be the moment to confront her, give her a chance to explain. ‘Tell me something more about him? His name?’

His questions were making her panic. ‘Alex, and you would have liked him and he would have liked you. Now can we leave it at that?’

Now he had caught her outright in a lie. It was his moment but he couldn’t take it. Didn’t want to take it for fear of where it would lead them. Manoussos ignored her request and asked the first thing that came into his mind. ‘When Alex died were you both still very much in love?’

There was a pause before Chadwick stammered, ‘Utterly … completely. Only his death killed our love for each other.’

‘You never had children?’

‘You know I have no children.’

‘I want children.’

‘And so do I. In fact …’

Manoussos interrupted her on two counts; trying to control his emotions at the very thought of their creating a baby. Until Chadwick, he had never thought about his unborn babies but she made him think about them all the time. His and Chadwick’s progeny: a continuity to their love, their lives together. To think of not having them suddenly became unbearable to him. The second reason for his cutting her short was that he meant to know why she had never had any with her husband.

‘A young couple, happily in love like you and your husband, which one of you didn’t want children?’

Manoussos felt Chadwick grow tense in his arms. He had hit a nerve, something that really bothered her. But when she spoke there was no sign of anger in her voice; she sounded not at all disturbed by his question, merely firm in her reply. ‘I don’t really want to talk about my husband or my life with him, Manoussos. We loved, it died when it was still in its prime. That was as he wished it to be. To talk about it is to cheapen what we had and lost, and I have no intention of doing that. Please accept the subject of my husband and our relationship as closed.’

Manoussos was horrified. He had upset Chadwick. He found it
very nearly unbearable that he should cause her the least anxiety. She did that not only to him but to everyone. Without asking, she engendered something very powerful that made men want to care for her. He had seen it manifest itself in Mark and Elefherakis. He even sensed that Larry Snell would do all he could to cushion things for her. And the husband, Hannibal, not the fictitious Alex – oh, yes, by now he could no long pretend that she was not Chadwick Chase, the widow of a sixty-six-year-old man called Hannibal who had left her eighty million dollars. A man who had spent his entire life caring for her, loving her, lusting after her, until that love ate away at him, at them, and all that remained was one life between them.

The same questions kept rolling over again and again through his mind. Why had she done it, entered his life and spun him a tissue of lies for them to live and love by? What had she to hide that made her create this new identity for him to fall in love with? A crime? Had she sensed that if her police chief lover had known about her life as he had heard it from Larry, and were to find out that she had perpetrated a crime, he would have to give her up? That his integrity, his entire life, would demand it? Manoussos realised that they had built up a magnificent romance on a foundation of lies. He felt destroyed by her deceit and, even worse, devastated that she might have had a hand in the death of her husband.

His position was untenable, he raged with despair. He gripped her harder in his arms and rolled them both over until he was on top of her, reached out and switched on the bedside lamp. The room sprang to life. He very nearly gasped. He wanted her to be ugly, twisted with immorality and deceit. Instead she was radiantly beautiful, the sensuously erotic
femme fatale
-innocent child that tweaked his heart strings, sent an arrow straight to his lustful soul. She threw her arms back over her head and ran her fingers through her hair. It spread out across the pillows like a seductive, sensual fan, framing her face. His heart raced. Her eyes bored into him, spoke to him from her heart of her own lust and love for him.

He pulled her roughly from the pillows to crush her in his arms.
Violent kisses, teeming with out-of-control passion, desperation. He sucked on her tongue and bit hard into her lips until he could taste a trickle of warm sweet blood. He could feel the tears smarting in his eyes, trickling down his cheeks. She led him on with her own lust, her own kisses, Chadwick bit into his flesh. Without uttering a word, she was begging for more of him, his lust, telling him she was there to receive him, all he was, all he was not, all he would ever be. While still lost in their kisses, he pulled a long white silk scarf she had had tied around her waist earlier in the evening from the table next to the bed and tied her wrists to the headboard of the bed.

She had come several times before he moved from her lips and her mouth to her breasts. Chadwick was not a quiet lover, she had the passion and lack of inhibitions that allowed her the freedom to express her feelings; expressions that had a tremendous raunchy appeal for her lovers, appeared to drive them on into sexual frenzy. There was sexual rage in Manoussos’s fucking, and passion, and desperate love. Chadwick had experienced such lust for her before, innumerable times with Hannibal, several times with Manoussos; that was how she’d learned to understand it, make the most of it, extract the thrill of such fucking and use it for her own pleasure, her own inner rage and lust for the men in her life and sex unbound.

Manoussos was like a man possessed, he could not stop. The sex for them had always been, right from their first sexual encounter, thrilling, over-the-edge-of-reason sex, but this … this was something else. They had died several deaths in orgasm and he would willingly have died the lasting death for the ecstasy that had been theirs. As he beat to a magnificent pace into Chadwick, while lost in the glory of this woman he loved beyond life itself, he was more alive than he had ever been at any time in his entire life. The sun was high in the sky when exhaustion finally took the lovers over. He only just managed to say, ‘I love you, Chadwick,’ before he fell asleep.

Manoussos stood over Chadwick for several minutes and watched her as she slept, not wanting to wake her but wanting to
have one last look at her before he left the house. Ever so carefully he removed the thin white quilt covering her naked body. She lay as if she were a most gloriously refined and beautiful tossed down rag-doll: legs and arms all askew. Even in her sleep she appeared as a wanton seductress. Her body was so smooth and perfect, as if it had been hewn from cream-coloured alabaster in its every firm and fleshy curve: voluptuous for the full breasts, one of which had a violet-blue bruise upon it; a hip bore the marks of his fingers, lustrous in the morning light. He felt no shame for the tracks on her body, the silk scarf dangling loosely from the headboard of the bed. Indeed maybe he even felt a little pride, for the passion of his lovemaking and because he had never hurt her when he might have for her deceit.

He lowered his head to place his lips upon her bruised breast in a kiss and used his tongue to lick her nipple. She stirred. He pulled back. She didn’t wake. Hers was a deep sleep, the sleep of an innocent child in the body of a libertine. Once more he lowered his head but this time to place his face upon her mound. He used his fingers delicately to part those more intimate of her lips and licked her cunt with pointed tongue and used his lips in a quick kiss. She moaned with pleasure but never climbed out of her dreams. He covered her once more with the quilt and walked noiselessly from the room.

Manoussos walked down to the port, aware of the warmth of the day, the scent of spring in the air. How blue and clear was the sky, the colour of the sea, how calm. On the cobblestones only a few feet in front of him, a light, warm breeze was playing with a crunched up ball of paper. It danced away, turned and tumbled down the steep steps to its own music, a delicate scratching sound. He felt suddenly more aware of every nuance of life than he had been for a very long time. It was as if his very existence depended on his not missing a single thing. He had no idea what had really happened to him deep down in the very core of his soul in the hours he had just spent in lust with Chadwick. Now, walking down to the port, he sensed that he had lost and found himself many times and had come through whole and possibly
even a richer man for his sexual extremes with her, his despair in love. He knew what he had to do, what he would do.

Several people greeted him, he even stopped and chatted to Katzakis the grocer and strolled with him for part of the way round the port. All, paradise lazing in the brightness and warmth of the day, seemed as normal today as it had been yesterday, as it had been for all the days before that. Yet for Manoussos it was not. The sight of Larry Snell alone at a table on the edge of the quay having his breakfast in the sun was tangible proof of that.

BOOK: Secret Souls
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