Lethal Seduction - Hardcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jackie Collins is the author of seventeen provocative and controversial international bestsellers. She lives in Beverly Hills.

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Chapter 1

"What's the best sex you've ever had?" Jamie Nova asked her best friend, Madison Castelli. At twenty-nine Jamie was heartbreakingly lovely. A cool, willowy blonde with classic style and an impeccable pedigree, she was a cross between a young Grace Kelly and a contemporary Gwyneth Paltrow.

"Huh?" Madison said, glancing quickly at the adjoining table in the packed Manhattan restaurant. The couple sitting there were deep into their own conversation and had failed to hear Jamie's provocative question.

"You know what I mean," Jamie said, brushing a lock of fine, blond hair from her forehead. "Mind-blowing, earth-shaking down and dirty sex. The kind where you never want to see the guy again, but at the exact moment you're doing it -- anything goes." A long wistful sigh. "And I do mean anything."

"Well..." Madison said, wondering where Jamie, her former college roommate, was going with this.

"Come on," Jamie said impatiently. "Answer me."

"Hmm," Madison thought for a moment, realizing this was not a question Jamie was about to drop. "Miami," she said at last. "Vacation with my father. I was sixteen, and the guy was a forty-five-year-old major playboy with all the toys. Penthouse, Porsche, porno videos."

"Porno videos!" Jamie said, rolling her aquamarine eyes in exaggerated horror. "Doesn't sound too sexy to me."

"I can assure you it was," Madison retorted crisply. "He had this oversized water bed covered in rose petals. A pitcher of champagne with sliced peaches. Sexy European body oil. And" -- she paused for full effect -- "an extraordinarily talented tongue!"

"Ah...the old talented-tongue trick," Jamie retorted a touch bitterly. "Gets 'em every time."

Madison raised an eyebrow. "What's with you today? Why all this sex talk? You're a married woman and -- if what I hear is true -- once you're married, sex is supposed to be nothing but a distant memory."

"Very funny," Jamie said glumly.

"I was joking," Madison said, sensing trouble in the paradise that Jamie inhabited. It was a fact that everyone who knew Jamie and her Wall Street hotshot husband, Peter, considered them the golden couple. They seemed to have everything, and yet today Madison sensed a lurking storm. "So, what's up?" she asked, leaning across the table. "Tell me everything."

"Well," Jamie said, biting on her lower lip. "Last night we were at a dinner party and the question arose."

"What question?"

"The best-sex-you've-ever-had question," Jamie said, toying with her salad. "And here's the thing -- everyone was coming up with really good answers."

"Yes?" Madison said curiously.

"Naturally, when it came to me, I carried on about it being the first time Peter and I made love. I told a cute little story about it, and everyone oohed and aahed. Then it was Peter's turn, and he suddenly went very quiet, muttered that he couldn't remember and abruptly changed the subject."

"Maybe he was embarrassed."

"Peter?" Jamie shook her head vigorously. "Not him."

"Had he been drinking?"

"Not at all."

"Then...what?" Madison asked, perplexed.

"I think he's having an affair," Jamie blurted.

"Come on!" Madison exclaimed. "You've only been married three years. Give the guy a chance to get bored."

"Thanks a lot," Jamie said huffily. "What makes you think he'd ever get bored?"

True, Madison thought, how could any man be bored with a woman like Jamie by his side? She was perfect. Everyone knew that. Besides, in a proper world, no man would cheat on Jamie.

But the world wasn't proper, and most men were dogs, so maybe Jamie was right, maybe Peter was exercising his precious manhood in another neighborhood.

"What makes you suspect Peter might be screwing around?" she asked.

"Intuition," Jamie answered. "That and the fact that we haven't made love in two weeks."

"Two weeks!" Madison exclaimed teasingly. "Jesus! Send in the Marines!"

"You don't understand," Jamie muttered, twisting her diamond wedding band on an elegant French-manicured finger. "Peter is a very sexual man. He likes sex every day." A meaningful pause. "Sometimes more than once."

"Hmm..." Madison murmured, thinking that shehadn't had sex in almost a year. Her choice, because who needed to sleep with assholes? And unfortunately that's all she'd come across in the last year -- major assholes. The truth was that ever since her live-in love of two years, David the TV producer rat, had run out on her, she'd been off men. Although there was that very attractive photographer she'd met in L.A. earlier in the year while on assignment for Manhattan Style, the upscale magazine she worked for. His name was Jake Sica, and they'd had chemistry. Unfortunately he'd been involved elsewhere.

Too bad.

Then there was the one-night stand in Miami, where she'd been interviewing The Donald. She'd met a male model at one of the happening clubs in South Beach. He was not very smart, but quite beautiful, with a muscular body and an untamed mane of sun-streaked hair.

One long, passionate night of unbridled lust accompanied by a condom and later a feeling of "Why the hell did I do that?"

No. One-night stands were not for her.

"What do you think I should do?" Jamie wailed. "I can't stand not knowing. It's driving me insane."

"Well...uh...find out, I guess," Madison offered.

"Very helpful," Jamie snapped. "You're supposed to be the smart one with an answer for everything."

Madison sighed. What a label to be stuck with. Unfortunately, it was true. In college she and Jamie were known as "The Beauty" (Jamie) and "The Brain" (Madison). And a third friend, Natalie De Barge, a pretty black girl, was nicknamed "The Sexpot." The three of them had been inseparable.

College had ended seven years ago, and in those seven years they'd all made their mark. Apart from marrying Peter and leading a hectic social life, Jamie had her own successful interior-design firm in Manhattan. It helped that her rich daddy had put up the money and partnered her with Anton Couch -- a gay genius with connections up the kazoo.

Natalie, with nobody to back her, had carved out a career on television. She was currently living in L.A. and cohosting Celebrity News, an E.T.-type entertainment show.

And Madison had an interesting, challenging job and quite a reputation. Her profiles of the rich, powerful and infamous were an important part of Manhattan Style's outstanding success as the magazine of the moment -- regularly outselling Vanity Fair and Esquire. In fact, the piece she'd written on Hollywood call girls earlier in the year had caused quite a stir -- she'd even sold the film rights, although she doubted if the movie would ever get made.

"Okay, here's the plan," she said, deciding that Jamie needed help.

"Yes?" Jamie said, placing her elbows on the table, wide aqua eyes eager for an answer to her problem.

"Have him followed."

"Followed!" Jamie exclaimed, causing the couple at the next table to finally take notice. "I can't do that, it's so...so...cheap."

"Expensive, actually," Madison corrected. "But worth it I'm sure."

"How can that be?"

"Peace of mind. If he's cheating, you'll find out. And if he's not...hey, it'll have cost you a few bucks and normal life resumes."

"Maybe..." Jamie murmured hesitantly, followed by a much firmer, "Okay, I'll do it!"

"Let me check into our options," Madison said briskly, "find out who's the best."

"And the most discreet," Jamie added quickly. "There's no way this can get out."

"I understand," Madison said, sure that her editor, Victor Simons, would be able to come up with exactly who they should hire. Victor knew everything and everybody. Maybe he even knew if Peter