Master of Pleasure

SASHA turned her head to look at her nine-year-old twin sons. They were playing on the beach like a pair of seal pups, wriggling and wrestling together, and jumping in and out of the waves that were washing gently onto the secluded Sardinian shoreline. "Be careful, you two," she warned, adding to the older twin, "Sam, not so rough." "We're playing bandits." He defended his boisterous tackling of his twin. Bandits had become their favourite game this summer, since Guiseppe, the brother of Maria who worked in the kitchen of the small boutique hotel that was part of the hotel chain owned by Sasha's late husband, had told them stories about the history of the island and its legendary bandits. The boys had their father's night-dark hair, thick and silky, and olive-tinted skin. Only their eye colour was hers, she reflected ruefully, giving away their dual nationality--sea-coloured eyes that could change from blue to green depending on the light. "Told you I'd get free." Nico laughed as he wriggled dexterously out of Sam's grip. "Careful. Mind those rocks and that pool,'Sasha protested, as Sam brought Nico down onto the sand in a flying tackle that had them both laughing and rolling over together. "Sam, look--a starfish," Nico called out, and within a heartbeat they were both crouching side by side, staring into a small rock pool. "Mum, come and look," Nico called out. Obligingly she picked her way across to them, crouching down in between them, one arm around Sam, the other round Nico. "Come on. And I'm the Bandit King, remember." Sam urged Nico to get up, already bored with the rock pool and its inhabitant. Boys, Sasha thought ruefully. But her heart was filled with love and pride as she watched them dart away to play on a safer area of smooth sand. She turned to look back towards the hotel on its rocky outcrop, while still keeping her maternal antennae firmly on alert. This hotel was, in her opinion, the most beautiful of all the hotels her late husband had owned. As a wedding gift to her he had allowed her a free hand with its renovation and refurbishment. The money she had expended had been repaid over and over again by the praise of their returning guests for her innovative ideas and her determination to keep the hotel small and exclusive. But with Carlo's death had come the shock of discovering that the other hotels in the group had not matched the financial success of this one. Unknown to her, Carlo had borrowed heavily to keep the business going, and he had used his hotels as collateral to secure his loans. Bad business decisions had been made, perhaps because of Carlo's failing health. He had been a kind man, a generous and caring man, but not the kind of man who had taken her into his confidence when it came to his business and financial affairs. To him she had always been someone to be protected and cherished, rather than an equal. They had met in the Caribbean, with its laid-back lifestyle and sunny blue skies, where Carlo had been investigating the possibility of buying a new hotel to add to those he already owned. Now, in addition to having to cope with the pain of losing him, she had had to come to terms with the fact that she had gone overnight from being the pampered wife of a rich man to a virtually destitute widow. Less than a week after Carlo's death his accountant had had to tell her that Carlo owed frighteningly large sums of money, running into millions, to an unnamed private investor he had turned to for help. As security for this debt he had put up the deeds to the hotels. And, although she had begged her business advisers to find a way for her to be able to keep this one hotel, they had told her that the private investor had informed them that under no circumstances was he prepared to agree to her request. She looked back at her sons. They would miss Sardinia, and the wonderful summers they had all enjoyed here, but they would miss Carlo even more.Jordan, Penny is the author of 'Master of Pleasure ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373125715 and ISBN 0373125712.