The A-List Collection: Hollywood Sinners / Wicked Ambition / Temptation Island. Victoria Fox

her–or worse-if he ever discovered it. For a while he had been dating a local barmaid and his attentions had been mercifully diverted, but lately, after that fell apart, he had been requesting more and more things from his little sister. He still hadn’t touched her, but occasionally he wanted her to touch herself. He always threatened her with a fist when she refused.

       Her first summer with Robbie was long and hot and she never wanted it to end. They would spend hours just kissing and talking, behind the school or in the park, under the stars at night when Lester was out. He would leave notes in her locker at school telling her he was thinking about her, that he liked what she was wearing that day, how much he wanted to kiss her and touch her. It was like she had the best-kept secret in the world. It made her feel mighty.

       She had asked Robbie to assure her of one thing: that he wouldn’t try to challenge Lester or go to the cops–it would be she who bore the brunt of it. She hadn’t told him the full story of the abuse, hadn’t told anyone, and knew he’d be unable to hold back if she did.

       Often Robbie talked of his ambition, to make enough money to give her the life he said she deserved. Laura had her own ambition–to make enough money to live independently, never to be reliant on anyone else–but Robbie seemed to have a thing about saving her and at that time she was happy to be rescued. He told her how he planned to follow his father into the hotel business. Wait until she saw the desert lights, she’d scarcely believe her eyes. In Vegas they could live happily together. Lester Fallon could never come near them again.

       On Robbie’s eighteenth birthday he told Laura he wanted her to come with him: he was quitting Belleville to study for a business degree and refused to leave her behind. She would turn sixteen in a month and a horrible instinct told him that Lester, with all his sick perversions, wouldn’t wait much longer. Robbie had seen the look in Laura’s brother’s eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. Lester was a hungry man, a twisted man. Hungry for his own sister.

       ‘I can’t …’ protested Laura.

       ‘Why?’ He took her in his arms. ‘Why can’t you? ‘

       She couldn’t think of a reason, except for a misguided sense of loyalty to the brother who had hit her, abused her and caused her such misery. She knew Robbie Lewis was the love of her life. They hadn’t used that word yet but there was no doubting how she felt.

       Weeks later, on the night she turned sixteen, everything changed.

       Lester was out drinking, unaware what day it was, and she and Robbie were in their usual place, beside the felled tree, on a blanket under the stars. There, finally, she had given herself to him.

       Robbie was gentle, taking his time, not wanting to hurt her. As she lay back and whispered, ‘I want you,’ a low groan escaped his lips and he moved himself on top of her. Unbuttoning her blouse, he slid a hand on to the skin there, feeling the steady beat beneath his palm. She shook from deep within.

       They stayed like that, his hand over her heart.

       ‘I love you,’ he said.

       It was like finding the answer to a great mystery and realising it was something so simple all along.

       ‘I love you, too.‘

       ‘Be with me,’ he said. ‘Always.’

       She raised her head to kiss him, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. ‘Always.’

       His hand found her breast and she moaned softly, her nipple hardening under his touch. He wrapped an arm underneath her and pulled her body up towards him. On instinct she felt for his hardness and freed him from his jeans, and that part of him wasn’t a frightening, threatening thing but a warm, familiar part of the boy she loved.

       Her body was ablaze, every fibre wanting him inside. When he entered her she felt a brief, sharp pain, but it was a wonderful, exquisite kind of pain and she savoured it, slowly easing into the rhythm of his movements, fitting with him, until they were just one person. As the pleasure mounted and a hot prickliness began at the point where they joined and then swelled within her, she gave herself up to the most blinding, body-shattering feeling she had ever known. She wrapped her legs tight around him and pulled him further in, wanting him, needing him, loving him and never wanting him to stop.

       Afterwards, as they lay naked in each other’s arms, he asked her again. Except this time it wasn’t a question.

       ‘Come away with me.’

       She looked into his eyes and brushed away a lock of dark hair. ‘You know I will.’

       Once more they made love, and this time it was slower, more passionate, and even though it was dark she could see him watching her all the while. This time there was no pain, just that indescribable heat that surged through her. She could never have guessed that pleasure like it existed.

       She should have known it couldn’t last.

       ‘Well, well, well,’ said a rasping voice, the light from a battered torch bathing their bodies in yellow light. It was Lester, drunk and swaying, his lank hair in a thin rope down his back and his lips split and cracked.

       Laura grabbed her clothes. Robbie pulled on his jeans, eyes fixed on the other man.

       Lester fumbled in his belt for something. In the bald light they saw it was a gun. He waved it in their faces, his eyes manic.

       In her heart Laura knew something terrible was going to happen.

       ‘Somebody better tell me what the hell’s going on,’ he growled, ‘or I swear to Christ I’ll blow both your brains out.’

33

       Las Vegas

      The MGM Grand Garden Arena was a pit of clamour and excitement. Thousands filled the space, surging up its steep flanks, waving banners and punching the air, surrendering to the adrenalin of the night. The focus: a small square lined with red rope. In minutes, two of the world’s greatest fighters would take to the stage.

      Elisabeth arrived late–it was the first event in months where she and Robert hadn’t made their entrance together. She peeled off her fur coat and took a front row seat next to her fiancé. He was talking to the city mayor but smiled and stood when he saw her.

      ‘Hello, darling,’ he said, kissing her chastely.

      ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she muttered. She offered no excuse. In truth she had fallen asleep after the spa session and had been dreaming of Alberto Bellini so vividly that she had missed her alarm.

      ‘Don’t be.’ He stroked the hole of flesh her gown revealed at the small of her back.

      ‘Elisabeth, what a pleasure to see you.’ Oliver Bratman, mayor of Las Vegas, stood to greet her. He was clad in a royal-blue pinstripe suit with a beetroot cravat spilling out the top pocket. ‘It’s been a long time.’

      ‘Oliver.’ Elisabeth kissed him. ‘You look well.’

      ‘As do you.’ He grinned. ‘Must be the flush of an imminent wedding.’ His eyes glittered. Oliver was tall and bald, with thick, dark eyebrows and a nose mapped with burst blood vessels.

      Elisabeth’s eyes flitted to Robert’s and he laughed smoothly. ‘Fear not, Oliver, you’ll get your invite.’

      The roar of the crowd was deafening as the boxers were brought in. One was Mexican, his opponent British. Elisabeth had been watching these fights since she was a girl, dragged along by