Slaves of Elysium Read Free Page A

the gauges, his ear cocked for any change in the engine noise. Jeni took him some iced fruit juice, which he accepted gratefully, flashing her a reassuring smile.
    â€˜They’re holding up so far,’ he said, nodding at the deck, below which the engines throbbed. ‘We’ve even got a little in reserve. I persuaded Mark to wait a while before going all out. I don’t think the Lady Delaware , that’s the boat we’re chasing, can hold her rate of knots for too long.’
    Jeni carried another glass of juice up to Devereaux, who took it with an absentminded nod, his eyes fixed on the distant form of the Lady Delaware halfway to the horizon. Swaying against the motion of trembling deck, Jeni took a third glass of juice forward to the bow, where Rebecca was still disporting herself. She was holding tightly on to the railing, as though riding the big yacht.
    Rebecca downed the drink thirstily, then said loudly against the wind and hiss of water, ‘Bring me another. And I need more sun cream.’
    Jeni returned shortly with the refill and a tube of cream. Rebecca turned her back to the bow rail and rested against it with her arms spread, so that Jeni could anoint the front of her torso where her skin had been reddened slightly by the sea spray. She waved up to Devereaux, who merely nodded back distractedly. With a frown she snapped, ‘Put plenty on my tits.’
    As Jeni worked the cream into Rebecca’s twin cones of pliant flesh she felt Rebecca’s nipples harden in a brazen display of sensuous pleasure, and gave an inward shiver. How beautiful Rebecca was! Jeni realised Ash could also see her performing this menial yet intimate service for her mistress from the lower helm position, as Rebecca must know full well. But if the provocative gesture was intended to win Devereaux’s attention it seemed to fail; his eyes did not stray from the boat in front of them.
    When Jeni passed back through the saloon wiping cream from her hands, Ash raised a sardonic eyebrow but said nothing.
    Not long afterwards Rebecca, apparently tiring of her perch on the bow with no rival now close enough to taunt and nobody paying her any attention, also returned aft. Jeni saw her coming from the galley. Rebecca had not bothered to cover her breasts and trailed her bikini top behind her. A little of the colour seemed to have drained from her cheeks. Jeni got some tablets out of the medicine locker and filled a tumbler with water. Rebecca made her way up to the fly bridge and Jeni heard the windblown murmur of an exchange with Devereaux, though she could not make out the actual words.
    A minute later Rebecca descended and came back through the cockpit. Ash was in the lazarette supervising the transfer of reserve fuel to the main tank. Jeni saw Rebecca look down at him through the open deck hatch and paused, hands on hips, feet wide to steady herself against the swaying deck.
    â€˜Can’t you stop this boat rocking about so much?’ she demanded. ‘It’s making me feel sick.’
    â€˜Not at this speed, Miss Lamont,’ Ash replied, keeping his eyes firmly on his task. ‘You’ll have to talk to Mr Devereaux about that. It’s his race.’
    Jeni watched Rebecca standing there, tight-lipped with frustration, and felt a slight pang of sympathy for her employer. Apart from the unsettling motion as the Galatea ploughed through the Atlantic swell, the throb of the engines at high revs filled the boat. Rebecca had enjoyed the fun of the start, but now that the race had become a test of endurance with only the empty ocean to look at, she was clearly beginning to regret accepting the wager.
    Jeni came forward quickly. ‘These will help, miss,’ she said, holding out the pills and tumbler. ‘Then perhaps I could give you a massage.’
    Rebecca scowled, downed the pills, and flounced off to her cabin with Jeni trailing after her.
    Â 
    Jeni worked the knots of tension out