When Elena snapped on her French Polynesian hotel light, his huge broad back was turned away. There he stood proudly, having enjoyed the privacy of the shadows and the dark moonless night. He froze, and Elena gasped in horror. The man appeared to be a relative of adversaries that Elena first met in northern Australia. He didn't flinch. There was something different here, Elena decided. While the suit was similarly glossy, and in perfect condition, she realised his shoe size was abnormally large. His bearing was elegant and he stood firm. One distinguishing feature was his very tall legs so that he looked down from a towering height. Brave Elena faced this Polynesian giant, who remained motionless acutely aware of her presence and knowing the danger she presented. He should not have been here. She should not have been here. Not a word was spoken. If a man can wear a grandiose moustache, this man's flamboyant facial features were extreme. And somehow grander than ever seen before. Very admirable. Elena walked away and turned the day into night with a flick of a switch. He was so gloriously handsome and she would not kill him tonight. No. Monsieur Cocky Rich would live to tell the tale of how he, unlike some of his foreign cousins, survived.
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