Not My Thing

She was tall, slim, wearing skin-tight jeans and a T-shirt. What this get-up did to her figure startled Lucan. Some body! he thought. She was pretty in a sophisticated way: blonde curls, big blue eyes and a wide, sensual mouth.

‘Cabin 24?’ he said, turning oh his charming smile. ‘Right next door. I’m Julian Lucan. Looks like I’m going to be your neighbour. Are you here for long?’

‘I’m Beryl Shaddock. Call me Berry,’ the girl said. ‘Sure, I’m staying for at least a week. I’m waiting for my husband to join me.’ She pouted. ‘He’s always joining me some place or the other.’

Lucan smiled again. He liked nothing better than pretty wives whose husbands were joining them sooner or later.

‘Anything I can do to help, Berry?’

‘Well, I’ve got a suitcase.’ She looked helpless. ‘Perhaps…?’ She flicked open the trunk of the car.

‘Sure.’ Lucan heaved out the heavy bag. ‘Give me the key. I’ll see you settled.’

Together they entered the cabin. Lucan switched on the lights and placed the bag by the bed.

‘That’s real nice of you, Julian,’ the girl said. ‘Well, thanks a million.’

‘Maybe we’ll be seeing each other,’ Lucan said as he moved to the door. ‘I know this city. I could show you around.’

‘You could?’ Her smile brightened. ‘I’d love that.’

‘Okay,’ Lucan said. He was getting the idea that this well built chick could be a push-over.

‘I’m starving,’ she said, thrusting her breasts at him. ‘I’ve flown from New York and the food on the plane was just terrible. Can I eat here?’

‘Sure, but the food here is also terrible,’ Lucan said, seeing his chance. ‘I’m just going to a little sea-food restaurant. Be my guest.’

‘Could I? Marvellous!’ Her blue eyes flashed. ‘You are so kind, Julian!’

‘Fine. Come as you are. You look terrific. Knock on my cabin door when you’re fixed.’

Of course, Lucan wasn’t to know that Beryl Shaddock was an FBI agent, Howard Jackson’s plant. Nor, of course, would he know that this seemingly sexy-looking girl was one of the best FBI agents in Florida: that she was an expert karate fighter, an expert pistol shot and tougher than teak.

As soon as Lucan had returned to his cabin, Beryl ran into the bathroom, washed, fixed her face, then ran to her suitcase. From it she extracted a two-way radio. In moments, she was speaking softly to Jackson, with Lepski, who had been given the task to work with Jackson, listening in.

‘Going like a dream,’ she whispered. ‘I’m having dinner with Lucan right now.’

Jackson chortled.

‘Marvellous girl! Now look, take it slow. Lucan is no fool. Give him a good time. Just get him to relax. I want to know about the tough character he was talking to. Get it?’

‘I’m with you. Over and out.’

Beryl replaced the two-way radio and locked the bag. Then, leaving her cabin, being careful to lock the door, she moved along the sandy path and knocked on Lucan’s door.

Half an hour later, Lucan was seated at a table for two in one of the better sea-food restaurants, facing Beryl.

‘Hmmm!’ she said. ‘I’m starving to death.’

‘Let me choose for you,’ Lucan said.

The Maītre d’ appeared and Lucan ordered dressed crabs, followed by a dish of clams, big prawns, corn on the cob, boiled potatoes and a lobster each.

While waiting, Beryl chatted. She was an expert at saying nothing, but holding a man’s interest. She kept leaning forward so Lucan could get a good look at her cleavage. She told him her husband (she wasn’t married) was in real estate and was setting up in Miami. Lucan, scarcely listening, kept staring at her half-concealed breasts. It wasn’t until they had eaten the crab and were drinking white wine that Beryl said casually, ‘Tell me about my neighbours, Julian. Are there any as handsome as you?’

Her sexy blue eyes were watching him, and she saw him stiffen.

‘Just a bunch of old squares,’ he said curtly. ‘You don’t have to bother your pretty head about them.’

She laughed.

‘Why should I? Tell me about Paradise City.’

On safe ground, Lucan relaxed again. He was an amusing talker and while they ate the main course he kept her laughing. All the time, he was wondering if he could get her into his bed. She seemed easy, but he was so experienced with women, he knew he had to approach cautiously.

The meal over, Lucan suggested they went on to the Casino and dance.

‘Julian, please excuse me,’ Beryl said, caressing his arm. ‘I’m terribly tired.’ She leaned forward and brushed his cheek with her lips. ‘Could we make it tomorrow?’

Lucan didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited.

‘Okay, babe,’ he said. ‘I understand. You really mean we have a date for tomorrow night?’

She gave a sexy little moan.

‘Oh, yes, you handsome, marvellous man!’ She had to control herself not to burst out laughing at this corny dialogue.

‘I’ll see you home,’ Lucan said.

‘Oh no! You find a nice girl – not as nice as I am – but find her, and we’ll really get together tomorrow night. I’ll take a taxi.’

Now, completely hooked, Lucan put his arm around her, fondling her breasts, and moved with her to his car.