Secret Whispers (Heavenstone 2)

“What?”

“Five thousand dollars to gamble. It’s probably peanuts to most of the people down there, but it’s a start. Put on something sexy. When we drive up, you’ll see dozens of paparazzi waiting to snap pictures of anyone who might just be famous. When they see you, they’ll think they’ve got a find.”

“I doubt it.”

“Well, get dressed, anyway. It’s fun, and we’re here to have fun, aren’t we?”

He returned to shaving, and I rose. When I thought about what I should wear, I appreciated the choices Lucille had made for me. I put on a black strapless dress and took out the jewelry she had lent me. While I showered, Ethan put on his tuxedo. He kept rushing me along.

“You’re the one making me self-conscious about my appearance,” I said. “It’s not like we’re going to a show and might miss the opening curtain.”

“Believe me, you’ll see this is a great show.”

Finally, I was ready, and we arrived at the casino close to ten-thirty. How long would we stay? I wondered. It was just as Ethan had described. Dozens of photographers lined the entrance, snapping our pictures as we hurried into Le Grand Casino, as it was known. It also housed the Grand Theatre de Monte Carlo and the headquarters of the Ballet

de Monte Carlo. I was surprised when we were asked to show our passports in order to enter.

“Why?” I asked Ethan.

“Citizens of Monaco are forbidden to enter the gaming rooms,” he said as we gaped at the elaborate and glamorous structure with its rococo turrets, green copper cupolas, and gold chandeliers. “Even the royal family is forbidden and uses a side entrance to attend the theater.” He paid our entrance fee.

The sight of so many elegantly dressed women with dazzling jewels and the elegantly dressed men was impressive. Ethan was obviously very excited.

“I never thought I’d be here so quickly in my life,” he muttered as he looked around, “but I dreamed of it. C’mon,” he said after we took a glass of champagne. “I want to start with craps. Just think of me as James Bond.”

“I don’t know anything about playing craps,” I said as he exchanged money for chips.

“I played it a lot in high school. This will be a bit more formal.”

We stood on the sidelines to watch a little. Ethan quickly explained what was going on. I listened, surprised at how much he knew and how anxious he was to get into the game. Before long, he was the shooter and began to toss the dice. When he won the first time, I knew he would be there for a while, so while he played, I walked around to look at more of the casino, watch some of the other people, and see some of the other ways they were gambling. Other rooms required entrance fees, and one room was for the very wealthy to play poker. I wandered back to where Ethan was, saw that he was still quite involved, and strolled toward the rear.

A tall, thin man standing by a doorway thought I wanted to exit and opened it for me.

“S’il vous plaît,” he said, nodding and bowing slightly.

“Merci,” I said, nodding.

I stepped out onto a terrace that was above beautiful well-lit gardens. As I looked out, the tall man stepped up beside me.

“First time here?” he asked.

I turned and looked at him as he lit a cigarette.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“You have that wide-eyed look American tourists wear the first time. Are you with family?”

“I’m on my honeymoon,” I said.

“Oh.” He widened his smile. “You don’t want to watch your new husband gamble?”

“Not all night,” I said, and he laughed.

“You see those lights out there?” He pointed with his cigarette.

“Yes.”

“That’s Bordighera, Italy.”