Master of the Game

She entered the drawing room and the conversation dropped as Eve walked in. In a room full of beautiful women, she was the most beautiful of all. Nita took Eve around to greet her friends, and to introduce her to the people she did not know. Eve was charming and pleasant, and she studied each man with a knowing eye, expertly selecting her targets. Most of the older men were married, but that only made it easier.

A bald-headed man dressed in plaid slacks and Hawaiian sport shirt came up to her. "I'll bet you get tired of people telling you you're beautiful, honey."

Eve rewarded him with a warm smile. "I never get tired of that, Mr. - ?"

"Peterson. Call me Dan. You should be a Hollywood star."

"I'm afraid I have no talent for acting."

"I'll bet you've got a lot of other talents, though."

Eve smiled enigmatically. "You never know until you try, do you, Dan?"

He wet his lips. "You down here alone?"

"Yes."

"I've got my yacht anchored in the bay. Maybe you and I could take a little cruise tomorrow?"

"That sounds lovely," Eve said.

He grinned. "I don't know why we've never met before. I've known your grandmother, Kate, for years."

The smile stayed on Eve's face, but it took a great effort. "Gran's a darling," Eve said. "I think we'd better join the others."

"Sure, honey." He winked. "Remember tomorrow."

From that moment on, he was unable to get Eve alone again. She avoided him at lunch, and after lunch she borrowed one of the automobiles kept in the garage for guests and drove into town. She drove past Blackbeard's Tower and the lovely Ardastra Gardens where the colorful flamingos were on parade. She stopped at the waterfront to watch the fishing boats unload their catch of giant turtles, enormous lobsters, tropical fish and a brilliantly colored variety of conch shells, which would be polished and sold to the tourists.

The bay was smooth, and the sea sparkled like diamonds. Across the water Eve could see the crescent curve of Paradise Island Beach. A motorboat was leaving the dock at the beach, and as it picked up speed, the figure of a man suddenly rose into the sky, trailing behind the boat. It was a startling sight. He appeared to be hanging on to a metal bar fastened to a blue sail, his long, lean body stretched against the wind. Para-sailing. Eve watched, fascinated, as the motorboat roared toward the harbor, and the airborne figure swept closer. The boat approached the dock and made a sharp turn, and for an instant Eve caught a glimpse of the dark, handsome face of the man in the air, and then he was gone.

He walked into Nita Ludwig's drawing room five hours later, and Eve felt as though she had willed him there. She had known he would appear. Up close he was even more handsome. He was six foot three, with perfectly sculptured, tanned features, black eyes and a trim, athletic body. When he smiled, he revealed white, even teeth. He smiled down at Eve as Nita introduced him.

"This is George Mellis. Eve Blackwell."

"My God, you belong in the Louvre," George Mellis said. His voice was deep and husky, with the trace of an indefinable accent.

"Come along, darling," Nita commanded. "I'll introduce you to the other guests."

He waved her away. "Don't bother. I just met everybody."

Nita looked at the two of them thoughtfully. "I see. Well, if I can do anything, call me." She walked away.

"Weren't you a little rude to her?" Eve asked.

He grinned. "I'm not responsible for what I say or do. I'm in love."

Eve laughed.

"I mean it. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life."

"I was thinking the same about you."

Eve did not care whether this man had money or not. She was fascinated by him. It was more than his looks. There was a magnetism, a sense of power that excited her. No man had ever affected her this way before. "Who are you?" Eve asked.

"Nita told you. George Mellis."

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"Ah, you mean in the philosophical sense. The real me. Nothing colorful to tell, I'm afraid. I'm Greek. My family grows olives and other things."

That Mellis! The Mellis food brands could be found in every corner grocery store and supermarket in America.

"Are you married?" Eve asked.

He grinned. "Are you always this direct?"

"No."

"I'm not married."

The answer gave her an unexpected feeling of pleasure. Just looking at him made Eve want to possess him, to be possessed. "Why did you miss dinner?"

"The truth?"

"Yes."

"It's very personal."

She waited.

"I was busy persuading a young lady not to commit suicide." He said it matter-of-factly, as though it were a common occurrence.

"I hope you succeeded."

"For now. I hope you're not the suicidal type."

"No. I hope you're not."

George Mellis laughed aloud. "I love you," he said. "I really love you." He took Eve's arm, and his touch made her shiver.

He stayed at Eve's side all evening, and he was totally attentive to her, oblivious to everyone else. He had long, delicate hands, and they were constantly doing things for Eve: bringing her a drink, lighting her cigarette, touching her discreetly. His nearness set her body afire, and she could not wait to be alone with him.

Just after midnight when the guests began to retire to their rooms, George Mellis asked, "Which is your bedroom?"

"At the end of the north hall."

He nodded, his long-lashed eyes boring into hers.

Eve undressed and bathed and put on a new sheer, black negligee that clung to her figure. At one A.M. there was a discreet tap on the door. She hurried to open it, and George Mellis stepped in.

He stood there, his eyes filled with admiration. "Matia mou, you make the Venus de Milo look like a hag."

"I have an advantage over her," Eve whispered. "I have two arms."

And she put both arms around George Mellis and drew him to her. His kiss made something explode inside her. His lips pressed hard against hers, and she felt his tongue exploring her mouth.

"Oh, my God!" Eve moaned.

He started to strip off his jacket, and she helped him. In a moment he was free of his trousers and French shorts, and he was naked before her. He had the most glorious physique Eve had ever seen. He was hard and erect.

"Quick," Eve said. "Make love to me." She moved onto the bed, her body on fire.

He commanded, "Turn over. Give me your ass."

She looked up at him. "I - I don't - "

And he hit her on the mouth. She stared up at him in shock.

"Turn over."

"No."

He hit her again, harder, and the room began to swim in front of her.

"Please, no."

He hit her again, savagely. She felt his powerful hands turning her over, pulling her up on her knees.

"For God's sake," she gasped, "stop it! I'll scream."