“What hotel are you staying at?” he asked.
The question took her by surprise. She didn’t know any of the hotels in the area. “Airbnb,” she said. She had to lean in to be heard over the music being pumped through the speakers above the bar.
La Formícula took her movement as an invitation, and he put his hands on both her hips. “At my house, I have a swimming pool and a hot tub. You like hot tubs?”
“They’re okay,” she replied as the bartender arrived with their drinks. Vottari needed his hands to pull out his wallet to pay for them.
“Let’s go see the water,” she suggested, tilting her head toward one of the tables near the beach.
Vottari nodded and motioned for her to lead the way. She knew he hadn’t done it to be a gentleman and that he just wanted to check out her ass. The man was an absolute sleazebag.
The tables were counter-height with barstools and umbrellas made of palm fronds. Just as they arrived at the one she had picked out, he changed his mind.
“Where are you going?”
“This way,” he said, heading toward the cabanas out on the sand.
Shit, she thought. Inside a canvas tent, with no one else around was about the last place she wanted to be with this guy. But if she didn’t go with him, she might not get another chance to slip the Rohypnol into his drink. Reluctantly, she followed.
“Look how nice,” he said when they had arrived.
There was a loveseat, two additional chairs, and a small table with thick, white candles in hurricane lamps. It was quite lovely, and in almost any other circumstance, might have even been romantic.
There was a small Riservato sign on the table and Lovett pointed at it. “Reserved,” she said.
Vottari walked over, picked up the sign, and tossed it aside. “Not anymore. Come, sit,” he replied, leading her over to the loveseat.
When she joined him he raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Lovett responded, taking a sip of her cocktail.
As soon as she began to lower the glass, he took it from her and set it next to his on the table. That was when he pounced.
He was quite strong for a man of his size. Pushing her backward on the loveseat, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down as he buried his face between the tops of her breasts and then ran his tongue up the side of her neck.
Lovett struggled to get free. “Wait a second,” she said. “Stop.”
Vottari, though, wasn’t interested in hearing that word and kept going, nibbling her earlobe and then pushing his tongue inside.
“Stop!” she insisted, much more forcefully. This time, she got his attention.
“What is it?”
Over his shoulder, she could see their whiskey sours sitting on the table. Beyond was the entrance to the cabana. “What if someone sees us?”
Vottari smiled and bent down to kiss her. His overpowering cologne made her want to throw up. She turned her face to the side, frustrating him.
“Close the flaps,” she said softly.
“The what?”
“The door. Close the door. I don’t want anyone to see.”
Figuring he was in for a very good time, Vottari’s smiled widened. Lifting himself off her, he went to close the cabana’s flaps.
The moment he turned his back, Lovett sat up and shot her hand into her bra.
Damn it, she worried. Where are they?
She had placed the tablets in her bra, where she thought she could easily get to them. But with having had his hands, and even his face, all over her, they must have shifted.
Come on. Come on. Come on. She was starting to freak out. Where the hell were they?
Just then, she felt the first tablet, and then the second. Her fingers closed around them like a vise and she slid them from her bra.
Looking up, she could see only Vottari’s silhouette outside. He had already unfurled one flap and was working on the other.
Snapping the first tablet so that it would dissolve faster, she dropped it into his drink.
She was in the process of snapping the second when it popped out from between her fingers and landed on the table.
Without a moment to lose, she picked up her glass with the cocktail napkin underneath, set it atop the pill and pressed down, crushing it.
Then, setting her glass aside, she grabbed Vottari’s. Sweeping the pieces into his glass, she gave it a swirl to mix everything up, and then she set it down.
Reclaiming her own glass, she leaned back against the loveseat and that’s when she saw him.
He was standing in the entrance, glaring at her, his mind moving from passion to rage.
Finally, he spoke. “What the fuck did you just do?”
CHAPTER 78
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Vottari advanced into the cabana. “What did you just put in my drink?”
Lovett’s immediate instinct was to convince him that he had not seen what he had just seen. “What are you talking about? I didn’t put anything in your drink.”
“You lying bitch.”
“You know what?” she said, starting to stand up. “We’re done here.”
“No we’re not,” the man replied, removing something from his pocket. “We’re just starting.”
As soon as she heard the distinctive click of a blade locking into place, she knew he had pulled a knife. In a flash, all of her training came flooding back.
Kicking the table over, she sent the candles and glass hurricane lamps hurtling at him.
It wasn’t much, but it gave her enough time to get on her feet.
Snatching a cushion off the loveseat, she used it to blunt his attack. He came in fast, though, driving her backward.
She was so focused on the knife that she didn’t see the chair, and went tumbling over it.
The moment she hit the ground, he was on top of her, the blade pressed tightly against her throat. She didn’t dare move.
Putting his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Like I said, we’re only getting started.”
She could feel his other hand under her skirt. He was rough and pushed it up the inside of her thigh. When he got to her panties, he stopped. Then, with a snap, he ripped them off.
His hand was suddenly out from under her skirt and was unzipping his fly. She tensed. He was going to rape her.
Sensing she was about to do something stupid, he applied even more pressure to the knife.
Lovett felt the edge of the blade biting into her skin. When his free hand came up to his mouth and she saw him wet it with saliva, she knew she had to do something—even if that something was just to scream—in the hopes that someone would hear her.
She opened her mouth to yell, but as soon as she did, he punched her in the side of her face.
She saw stars. She had to fight with everything she had not to black out. She knew if she didn’t, it would be all over.
He had remoistened his hand and was trying to force it between her legs. Summoning all of her strength, she fought to deny him.
Angered, he withdrew his hand and pulled it back to punch her again. That was when it happened.
Like a pair of pythons, two strong arms snaked around Vottari’s throat and behind his neck.