"Another Mojito, please, darling!" Dorian flashed his most brilliant smile at the steward.

"Dorian, don't you think you've had enough?" James, hand paused above his calculator, looked pointedly at his lover.

"Oh, Jamesie, another one won't hurt."

Gian-Maria Volovolonte's yacht was anchored off Monte Carlo; James and his beautiful blond lover were his guests, along with several other 'business associates' he wanted to impress.

The Don lounged on the deck in shorts, his loud Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to reveal a hairy chest and belly, a straw hat pulled low over his mirrored sunglasses. "Don't worry about him so much, James. He's having a good time. He can't come to any harm here."

James turned his attention back to the documents he was poring over, and said nothing as the steward brought Dorian another drink.

"He's a pretty thing, your boyfriend," Don Gian-Maria remarked. "Pretty enough to be a girl. Though nobody could mistake him for a girl, not with a body like that – he's got the body of an athlete." He leered at James. "Lucky you."

James smiled uncomfortably. He'd thought bringing Dorian with him would be a mistake, but the Don had insisted. The Don was one of his most important clients, so he couldn't afford to upset him.

Volovolonte wanted to introduce James to some of his associates from New York – and James knew that working for the Mob in New York would bring in earnings beyond his wildest dreams. He was grateful to Volovolonte for arranging the introduction. He just wished it didn't have to happen on a five day yacht cruise in the Mediterranean – what a waste of time and money – and he wished Volovolonte hadn't insisted he bring Dorian with him.

Dorian was giggling and flirting with the steward, who looked embarrassed.

"Dorian, he's straight," James murmured. "Leave him alone."

Volovolonte smiled indulgently. "Don't worry about it. Louis doesn't mind – do you Louis? Dorian? Would you like some suntan oil on your back?"

In response, Dorian turned over, and held a bottle of suntan lotion out to the Don, who tossed the bottle to a passing crew member. "Here, Franco – help out our guest, will you?"

Dorian smiled flirtatiously as the crewman sat down beside him and unscrewed the bottle.

James focused on his calculations, ignoring Dorian's delighted wriggling. He loved Dorian; he just wished he wasn't so empty-headed sometimes.

Volovolonte pulled his chair closer to James.

"Don Lupinacci will be joining us this evening. He's a powerful man in New York, James. If he likes your work, it will be good for you. He'll open doors. Make you a rich man." He sipped his whisky thoughtfully. "I've invited him to become a business partner in one of my ventures here in Europe. I'm hoping for his backing on one or two aspects of the project."

James looked up. So there was more to this meeting than introducing his favourite accountant to a new client.

Volovolonte gazed out over the rail at the sparkling water, his expression shielded by his mirrored glasses.

"Don Lupinacci's a widower. In New York, he takes beautiful women to gala events, showers them with jewels. But he's a man of broad tastes, if you see what I mean. I think he'll like Dorian. Perhaps you could encourage your pretty friend to be nice to him?"