Lucky Read Free Page B

all fours being roughly serviced by the butler. She was no prude, but there was such a thing as decorum. Dimitri consoled his petulant daughter with a magnificent apartment on the Avenue Foch – two blocks away from the family mansion.
    Soon she met an Italian business tycoon. Or at least that’s what he said he was. A man of forty-five with charm, smooth lines, a reputation as a womanizer, and a great wardrobe. He courted her through the discotheques of Europe and married her on her nineteenth birthday. They stayed together a year. She bore him a baby daughter, Brigette, while he spent as much of her money as he could. His indiscretions hit the newspapers and magazines once too often. Olympia was furious to discover he had been dancing the night away while she was screaming the night away delivering their child.
    Dimitri arranged the divorce for her. She settled two Ferraris and three million dollars on her second mistake. He never had time to enjoy it. Three months after the divorce, he stepped out of a car in Paris, and was blown to pieces by a terrorist bomb. Olympia had no time to mourn, she was too busy making mistake number three, an impoverished Polish count. Take out the O and you had his number. He lasted sixteen weeks and left her with a title and all his debts.
    Olympia decided marriage was out, and indulged in a great many affairs, none of which satisfied her. She began to travel frequently, dividing her time between her Paris apartment, a pied-à-terre in Rome, and the Connaught in London. Summers she spent in the South of France. Gstaad at Christmas. Acapulco when she felt like it. She went through men fast. Most of them bored her after she had sampled their bodies. She needed more than sex, she needed an added thrill.
    Married men were fun. And famous men. And powerful men. The more unobtainable they were the better.
    Laying them was the kick. After the initial encounter what was left? She needed a challenge. For she discovered something she had known all along – most men were easy lays. And who needed easy?
    Olympia’s first lover had taken possession of her body when she was a mere sixteen. The setting was Southern France, in a villa she and her girlfriend, Lucky Santangelo, had ‘borrowed’ from Olympia’s aunt. They were on the run from boarding school, two adventurous little girls with time on their hands, money to burn, a white Mercedes, and inquisitive natures. Often Olympia looked back on those illicit carefree days as the happiest time of her life. No pressures or sneaking photographers behind every bush. No great expectations.
    Warris Charters. She remembered him well. Handsome, with corn-coloured hair and slitted green eyes. An older man. A film producer. A broke hustler with an exceedingly active cock.
    Sometimes she wondered what had happened to him. Warris Charters, caught with her sixteen-year-old golden curls between his legs giving him a blow job. Caught by her father and Lucky’s father when the two men travelled to the South of France in search of their errant daughters.
    The last she had seen of Warris was a nervous figure scurrying into the storm-ridden night clutching two Gucci suitcases and an earful of threats from Dimitri.
    She had never heard from him again. Understandably so.
    She had never heard from her best friend Lucky Santangelo again either. Not so understandable. After all the experiences they had shared she would have expected at least a phone call. It never occurred to her that Lucky had been forbidden to contact her. What did occur to her was that Lucky might have betrayed them. Summoned the two fathers to come and collect them, because she, Olympia, was having all the fun.
    Who needed Lucky anyway?
    ‘ Olympiaaaa .’ The plaintive cry was accompanied by a sharp pounding on the bathroom door. ‘My beauty. What are you doing in there?’
    What did the fool think she was doing? Playing with herself?
    She flung open the door impatiently.
    Lord Jeremy’s naked