I Barton had been treating the kid with contempt from the moment they met. And no one knew how to show contempt better than Barton. John Barton. The terror of Wall Street. Thirty-eight years old, and officially worth three billion dollars.
I feel her body press against mine as I lift her up, her smile beaming wide as I look into her eyes and carry her across the threshold of our honeymoon suite. I kiss her lovingly on the lips as I place her on our bed. In our plans this is going to be the most special, perfect, night of my life. Never again will I have her like this, so pure and perfect; all mine. I stroke her cheek softly as we cuddle. Can we, pleaaaase?
Sandy and I are the adventurous types, so on our honeymoon we traveled to a tropical Caribbean island well off the beaten tourist track. The island doesn't even have an airport; we had to take a long boat ride from Antigua. The hotel was primitive by modern standards, but we like the solitude and wild location. I'm 26, a stockbroker for a leading Wall Street firm, and Sandy works for a non-profit organization. She's 21, blond and green-eyed, about 5' 6".
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