“I see you with the beautiful women. Do they not inspire a good-looking young man such as yourself?”
Colin took a drag, holding the filter between his thumb and middle finger, and shook his head. “They try to hold me down. Bother me all the fucking time.” That was actually true. He couldn’t seem to escape the women he’d been with, even here in Spain. Being one of the only straight and single men in a gallery had its positives and negatives. It wasn’t that he disrespected women—it’s that he couldn’t afford any emotional ties in his life, and no matter how clear he made his intentions, there was always someone pushing for more. Colin gave a cynical laugh. “I need a woman, but I don’t want to have to listen to her after we fuck, aye?”
“Take a whore.”
Colin made a face. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But I don’t want any fucking diseases, and I have a reputation to keep. If there’re any high class, discreet whores in the area, I’ve yet to find them.” He exhaled a plume of smoke and prayed the man would take the bait.
Se?or Acosta rolled his cigarette in his fingers and stared at the gallery wall mural in thought. Colin held his breath until the other man finally turned back to him, a shrewd wariness in his eyes.
“What if there were such a place, Se?or Douglas? A private paradise where you could paint, and party, and fuck to your heart’s desire?”
Bingo.
Colin’s jaw clenched in an effort not to show his elation. “Aye, pal. If there were such a place, I’d pay any price.”
Se?or Acosta ran a tongue over his lips. Then he nodded. “Let me contact an acquaintance of mine. I will be in touch.”
The man walked out without another word, and a familiar rush of victory flooded Colin’s veins. He rubbed a hand over his short cropped hair and his hand shook.
Don’t celebrate yet, he told himself. Getting inside those walls was just the beginning. After all this time, he didn’t even know if the girl was still alive. If she was, she might not be at the villa. He tried not to let his thoughts linger down that road. He’d face that path if he came to it.
The call from Se?or Acosta came two days later with detailed instructions about which boat to board. The Se?or was having his man take Colin to the villa since it could only be entered by sea.
“The proprietor is a well-respected man named Marco Ruiz. He is doing me a favor, Se?or Douglas. He does not always take kindly to Westerners and their ways. You are never to breathe a word about him or his home, or what takes place at the villa to anyone. If you do, he’ll find out, and he’s not a man to be fucked with. Comprende?”
“I understand. And you know I’m tight-lipped.”
Colin had witnessed some of the largest drug deals of his life go down in that past year.
“Indeed. If I doubted you for a moment I wouldn’t dream of referring you. The villa will be perfect for you.”
“Thank God. I need a good fuck. If this holiday doesn’t inspire creativity, nothing will.”
“My friend, I am expecting the most God damned incredible painting of your life after this.” The man laughed darkly, like someone with many secrets. Colin chuckled too, because he had a few secrets of his own. He was one step closer to stealing something valuable that this Marco prick never should have had in the first place.
Colin packed his easel, paints, and clothing, and set off immediately for the docks. He slid his sunglasses on as the sunshine hit him.
He didn’t allow himself to relax as the boat sped over swells of the Mediterranean sea. For all he knew they could be onto him, planning to kill him at sea and dump his body. If that was the case he wasn’t going down without a fight, and he wasn’t going down alone. He trusted no one.
After twenty minutes, when they slowed to round the corner of a hulking cliff, lush with greenery, Colin could only stare. Not much in this world surprised him. He’d found loveliness in Scotland, and a whole different kind of beauty in Spain, but this villa built into the cliffside was like nothing he’d ever seen. The Spanish architecture with its stone steps, archways and stucco, nestled into the tropical landscape, was breathtaking.
Nobody in the world should be that bloody rich. Marco Ruiz must have been the boss of Se?or Acosta—all the Se?or Acostas in Spain, for that matter.
The motor slowed to a purr as they entered the no-wake zone and came to a dock. The crystal waters around them were deep blue in the shadow of the cliff.
A brute of a man with his long hair pulled back in a ponytail met them at the dock. He gave Colin a once-over, unsmiling. Colin eyed him right back, because he knew from years of experience that’s how respect was earned among these types. The boatman hauled Colin’s things to the dock, and Colin picked them all up, giving the boatman a nod before he tipped his hat and left him there.