To the victor the spoils," he said. "That was just what I needed." "Just as long as you don't expect me to do the same for all the othervictors," she said. He put his hands on her shoulders and she felt the strength of hisfingers biting into her flesh. "Would you object?" She saw a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "You like behaving like a whore, don't you?" "I like to choose who I share my body with." "You'll do it with a man you've only just met," he persisted. "That's what a whore does." "A whore does it for money," Jacey said. "It's work. If I do it with a man I've just met, it's for pleasure.Because I fancy him. It's my choice." She stepped back out of hisgrasp. "My body. My choice." Suddenly her well-trained memory kicked into gear again. "You accused me of that before," she remembered. "Of not minding if I serviced a man I'd just met. Why?" "You fucked Peter Draven quickly enough," he said. "In the operating theatre at La Primavera." "You were watching us?" She felt her anger rising once more. "What a disgusting trick." He shrugged, and laughed. "I'm a busy man. I can't afford to waste time on someone who isn'tgoing to be worth it. I like to see my women in action, before I trythem out myself." She slapped him without thinking, across his face. The blow was harderthan she intended; it snapped his head back, and sounded like a pistolshot. She immediately regretted her impulsiveness. What if heretaliated? She knew he was quite capable of doing so; he would nothave any chivalrous notions about not hitting women. In that case, should she use her training to try and defend herself? Perhaps resistance would infuriate him. And she wasn't even sure ifshe could handle him if he attacked her. She had been taught to take avictim by surprise, and kill him, not to stand up to a fully grown manin a raging temper. In that brief moment, as she stood in front of him, and saw him lifthis hand to his face and shake his head slightly as if to clear it, sherealised how vulnerable she was. Here in Guachtal, Nicolas Schlemannwas the law. He could probably have her murdered, and get away withit. He could block any investigations. A few diplomats might makeangry noises. A file would be opened. There would be an insincerepromise of an investigation. Weeks would drag into months, and thefile containing details of her case would gradually find its way to theback of a shelf, where all the other unsolved cases mouldered. Then Nicolas smiled with a sinister expression in his eyes. "I really don't deserve that. Peter Draven was quite happy to obligeme by putting on that little performance. And he didn't mind obligingme by bringing you to the Marquez party either." "Suppose I'd chosen Raoul instead of you?" Jacey challenged. The smile returned. "I wasn't afraid of that, Dr. Muldaire. Raoul would bore you. I'vetold you before, you need a man like me. And you know it. You comerunning when I call you, because you enjoy it." He opened the nearestlocker. "And now I must get changed. I have a meeting with Hernandez in anhour." "And how about a meeting with me? From my point of view, this onehasn't been very satisfying." He smiled at her condescendingly. "I'll call you. When I have some time to spare." He slung a towelover his shoulder. "Make sure you're available. I don't like being kept waiting,particularly by women. And especially when I want sex." Chapter Five. Jacey's anger simmered for the next few days. It hurt to have hersuspicions about Peter Draven confirmed. Whatever his reasons, he hadused her. She would have broken off their relationship herself, if ithad become necessary to do so. But she would have had a legitimateexcuse: she was not a free agent. She needed information, and she hadto take any opportunity she was offered in order to get it. And Iwould have made it a gentle break, she thought. Peter had no excuses.He had left without an explanation. I trusted him, and he used me.Like Faisel, she realised. She did not want to remember Faisel, but she could not banish thememory now her mind had dredged it up. At their last meeting, Faiselwas sitting between his glacially beautiful mother, and his Savile Rowsuited father. Faisel listening mutely as his parents spelled out herfate. He let them calmly tell me how they intended to ruin my life,she thought. She had hated him, then. Wondered why she ever found himattractive. Wondered how she could have believed she was in love. She remembered the cold, hard knot of anger in her stomach, when sherealised that she was powerless. Faisel's family could do what theyliked. She was in a foreign country, and alone. She had felt nakedand helpless. It was horrible, frustrating, and infuriating. She madea vow never to be put in that position again. In the future she wouldalways be in control of her own life. She had also been determined never to fall in love again, either. Ithad been an easy resolution to keep in the early years. The pressureof work kept her from thinking about the past. She took up her studiesagain, qualified, and became an overworked junior hospital doctor. There wasn't much time for romance during that period, even if she hadwanted it. Most of her leisure time was spent sleeping. She had a fewone-night stands with fellow doctors, but they meant nothing. Antonhad been her first steady relationship, and she had been honest withhim about not wanting a long-term commitment. She leant back in her chair, and sighed. Not that he had taken anynotice. He could not accept the idea of a woman who did not want toget married. He would probably have made a good husband, shethought. She tried to imagine waking up and seeing him every morning. Chattingabout work, discussing what they were going to do that evening. Antonwould probably take his lead from her, accept what she wanted. Andperhaps that was the problem, she thought. He was far too nice. If Ihad to live with him, I'd be bored to tears in a couple of months. Perhaps Nicolas is right; I need someone unpredictable, I needexcitement. I need a dominant man for sex, and I need freedom in myeveryday life. And I don't want to be used by men whenever they feellike it. To relieve her feelings, she slammed down a medical chart on herdesk. ingrid came through the door. "Oh dear," Ingrid said. "A touch of PMT?" "I don't suffer from PMT." "Then it's frustration." Ingrid perched on the edge of Jacey's desk. "You miss your sexy boyfriend. You want to give him another blow job,maybe?" "No, I don't," Jacey said, 'and I wish I hadn't told you about that." "You think no one knew? All those people in the members' bar knew.
