"Where is he?"
"In Monte Carlo."
Donald had chosen well. Italian. In her late twenties.
She was a sensuous and attractive in a sexual way young
girl. She has full sensuous lips. She is a beautiful and
sensuous. She was sexually exciting and very attractive.
"Don’t you think she’s sexy?" Donald asked. Yes, it is. She
is a sexy girl and very attractive one. This type of attraction
often occurs amongst individuals. Donald has his own
preferences as an individual. These preferences come about
as a result of a complex variety of his genetic,
psychological, and cultural factors. The sexual attraction is
different from one person to another and depends on both -
Donald and Sophia. She has catlike face. Full-breasted
figure. Now, looking at her across the table, Robert Stanley
made a decision.
"Do you like to travel, Sophia?"
"I'm thrill."
"Good. We'll go on a little trip. Excuse me for a
moment."
Sophia watched as he walked into the restaurant inside
the men's room. Stanley picks up his cellular phone and
dialed. "Marine operator, please."
Seconds later, a voice said, "C'est l'operatrice
maritime.”
"I want to place a call to the yacht Blue Skies. Whiskey
bravo lima nine eight zero ..."
The conversation lasted five minutes, and when Stanley
was finished, he dialed the airport at Nice. The conversation
was shorter this time.
When Stanley was through talking, he spoke to Donald,
who rapidly left the restaurant. Then he returned to Sophia.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Let's take a walk." He needed time to work out a plan.
It was a perfect day. The sun had splashed pink clouds
across the horizon and rivers of silver light ran through the
streets. They walked along the Rue du Portier, past the
Eglise, the beautiful twelfth-century church, and stopped at
the flower shop. When they came out, one of the three
watchers was standing outside, busily studying the church.
Donald was also waiting for them.
Robert Stanley handed the flower to Sophia. "Why don't
you take this up to the Hotel? I'll be along in a few minutes."
"All right." She smiled and said softly, "Hurry, my dear."
Stanley watched her leave, and then he turned to
Donald.
"What did you find out?"
"The woman and one of the men are staying at Rue du
Portier, on the road to Nice."
Robert Stanley knew the place. It was one of the streets in
Monte Carlo. "And the other one?"
"Around the corner." "What do you want me to do with
them, sir?"
"Nothing. I'll take care of them."
Robert Stanley’s Hôtel de Paris was on Avenue
D'ostende, close to the Place du Casino and Port Hercule.
When Stanley returned to the Hotel, Sophia was in his
bedroom, waiting for him. She was naked.
"What took you so long?" she whispered.
In order to survive, Sophia Loren often picked up money
as a call girl between film assignments, and she was used to
faking orgasms to please her clients, but with this man,
there was no need to pretend. He has insatiable desire, and she
found herself climaxing again and again. When they were
finally exhausted, Sophia put her arms around him, and
murmured happily, "I could stay here forever, my dear."
I wish I could, Stanley thought, cruelly.
They had dinner at the Hôtel de Paris restaurant. The
dinner was delicious, and for Stanley the waiter added spice
to the meal. When they were finished, they made their way
back to the hotel. Stanley walked slowly, to make certain his
pursuers followed.
At one A.M., a man standing across the street watched
the lights in the hotel being turned off, one by one. At four-
bedroom where Sophia slept. He shook her gently.
"Sophia...?"
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a smile of
anticipation on her face, then frowned. He was fully
dressed. She sat up. "Is something wrong?"
"No, my dear. Everything is fine. You said you liked to
travel. Well, we're going to take a little trip."
She was fully awake and excited now. "At this hour?"
"Yes. We must be very quiet."
"But ..."
"Hurry."
Fifteen minutes later, Robert Stanley, Sophia, Donald,
and Carl were moving down with the elevator to the
basement garage where a blue Mercedes was parked.
Donald quietly opened the garage door and looked out
onto the street. Except for Stanley's white Corniche, parked
in front, it seemed deserted. "All clear." Stanley turned to
Sophia.
"We're going to play a little game. You and I are going
to get in the back of the Mercedes and lie down on the
floor."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"Some business competitors have been following me,"
he said very serious and sincere. "I'm about to close a very
large deal, and they're trying to find out about it. If they do, it
could cost me a lot of money."
"I understand," Sophia said. She had no idea what he
was talking about.
Five minutes later, they were driving past the gates of
the garage on the road to Nice. A man seated on a bench
watched the blue Mercedes as it sped through the gates. At
the wheel was Donald Herman and beside him was Carl. The