The Secret Heiress by Judith Gould

harshly. “He’s a model, for God’s sake. No job for a man.” He looked at her with hooded eyes. “And don’t think I didn’t see the way you were throwing yourself all over him.”
    “Father,” Bianca said, stomping a stiletto heel on the stone terrace. “Will you give me a chance to say what I wanted to say?”
    “Fire away,” he said.
    “Well . . . ,” Bianca began, looking down at her elegant Manolo Blahnik shoes as if they could inspire her. Now she wondered how she could possibly tell her father what their plans were. His initial reaction to Frans was so negative that she doubted that she could accomplish anything, much less convince her father that she was taking a wise course of action. I have to be honest with him, she thought. He knows me well enough to know when I’m holding back.
    Taking a deep breath, she gazed up into her father’s eyes. “I’m in love with Frans,” she said, “and we’re engaged.”
    Bianca watched as he struggled to restrain himself from shouting at her. His face flushed, and he gritted his teeth. After a few moments he said too quietly, “If you like the sex, fine. Screw your brains out. But marry somebody like that? He’s half your age, Bianca. It’s absurd that you’re even considering such a thing.”
    “Do I need to remind you that my mother was half your age when you married her?” Bianca retorted. “And she was still half your age when you got divorced.”
    “No,” he said. “You don’t have to remind me of a damn thing.” He paused and took a sip of his drink. “I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake. We’re the only real family we have left, Bianca, you and I, and I hate to see you do something that’s going to be a catastrophe.”
    Tears suddenly sprang into her eyes.
    Angelo Coveri stared at his daughter for a moment. “Wipe your tears away,” he said, “and go find your young German. We’ll talk about this later. This is neither the time nor the place.”
    “Okay,” she replied. She kissed his cheek and turned to go. “We’ll talk about this later.” She paused, then added, “But I’ve made up my mind.”
    He heaved a sigh. “So go. Find your horny Kraut.”
     
    When Niki saw Frans walking alone on the beach, she slipped off her shoes and danced down to the water’s edge, where he was idly kicking at the incoming waves. Hearing her approach, he turned and smiled.
    “Hi,” he said.
    “Hello,” she said, returning his smile. “What’s your name?”
    “Frans,” he replied, his attention back on the water.
    “I’m Niki,” she said.
    “I know,” he said with a laugh. “It’s your birthday, and you are Bianca’s boss.”
    “Yes,” Niki replied, “I am.” She slipped out of the diaphanous gown she was wearing and dropped it onto the sand. The gold fish scales that covered her nipples and crotch were intact, serving as the briefest of bikinis. “Why don’t we take a swim?” she asked. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
    If he found her costume alluring, he didn’t let on. “Talk? About what?”
    Niki picked up an air mattress that someone had left on the beach and shoved it out into the water, then followed it, walking in up to her waist. “Come on,” she said. “We can swim out to look at the barge.” She pointed to the long barge that would be used for the fireworks display, anchored fifty feet or so offshore. It was decorated with ten-foot scallop shells, behind which the fireworks crew hid.
    “I don’t have a bathing suit,” Frans replied as an excuse. He swam in the nude all the time, but he didn’t relish the idea of swimming naked with Bianca’s boss.
    “Oh, for God’s sake,” Niki said. “Who needs a bathing suit? Besides, aren’t you wearing underpants?”
    He nodded. “Yes.”
    “Then take off your trousers and swim in your underwear,” Niki said. “I think you’ll be glad you did.”
    “Why?” Frans asked.
    “Because of the proposition I have for