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The huskiness in her voice, that smoky look in her shadowed eyes that gleamed with mirth, made him relax a little. “You remind me of a female jaguar, you’re akotya, a little cat.” he whispered, deliberately dropping the low, rasping endearment right by her ear.
Laughing a little, Daria slipped her hand around his arm and remained close to Nik as he guided them into the busy street, heading up the hill. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never that.” She gave him a teasing look.
How badly Nik wanted this to be real. The urge to see even a single look in her eyes to fully persuade him that it was, made him long for a real relationship with an intelligent woman like her. “Moya kotya,” he said, giving her a heated look she couldn’t misinterpret.My little kitten.It was the term of a lover whispered, and as he murmured it by her ear, strands of her hair tickled his nose and mouth for a moment. Nik felt and saw her react to his deeply meaningful words. “And yes, it is my sweet words for you. Ever since I met you, you reminded me of a lithe, beautiful female jaguar. You know,” he said, lifting his hand toward the darkness where Machu Picchu rose high above them, “there are jaguars in this area?”
Daria raised her eyebrows, and said, “I read that there were. Have you ever seen one?”
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I have one on my arm right now.” He saw her eyes flare slightly, saw them soften, and knew without a doubt that Daria liked the endearment he’d chosen for her.Kotyawas a kitten, but in his eyes and heart, she was a fully-matured, dangerous and sensual female jaguar. There was a solid confidence that radiated from Daria and it intrigued him. He wanted desperately to have the time to find out more about her on personal terms when they were alone and away from prying eyes.
He guided her to the top of the hill and lead her into Hotel Machu Picchu, the newest one the small town had to offer, boasting a full four stars. Nik saw that only well-heeled patrons, those with a lot of money, were going inside. There were two bellmen in gray-and-black uniforms at the crystal-cut double doors. Beggars had been driven off, not allowed anywhere near the entrance, he saw. Normally, he would never eat here, preferring instead a local eatery down near the church that served good, clean, solid food at a low price. All his money was going into a bank account for Dan’s medical help. But tonight… just this one time, Nik was going to loosen up those purse strings. He wanted to give Daria only the best and, from the look of awe on her face at the hand-carved quartz crystal doors that reflected Machu Picchu rising above, she was impressed. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had this beautiful, sensual woman on his arm. She was smart and quick and he loved being around a woman like that.
Daria managed a whispered, “ohhhh…” as they walked into the huge rotunda-like foyer. The tiles were gold-veined white marble interspaced with black ones in designs that honored ancient Incan designs and symbols. Above them hung a thousand-piece quartz crystal chandelier, sending out sparks of lights in all directions.
Nik enjoyed her reaction to the elegance and richness of the hotel. The staff, all Quechua Indians, were in gray-and-black uniforms. “Your beauty outshines anything you see in here,” he told her as he eased the coat off her. He saw her lips twist, her eyes flashing with warmth up at him over his whispered words.
“You are a romantic, Nik. More from the Victorian Age than a modern-day twenty-first century man. How did you get that way?”
“I don’t really know. Perhaps I need you to discover those things in me?” He led her over to the coat room and the young woman with long, black braids took their coats, giving the check stub to Nik. He slid it into the pocket of his blazer. Turning, his hand on her upper arm as he led her toward the sumptuous restaurant, he said lightly, “We have all night. I’ll tell you many tales,Moya kotya, if you want to hear them.”
She gave him a merry look. “Oh, I’m all ears,Moya prekrasnyy yaguar, my beautiful jaguar, believe me.”
He managed a sliver of a grin. “I like your endearment. It slips like music off your tongue. Thank you…” He walked up to the tuxedoed maître d who was clearly from Lima, Peru, and not from around here. The middle-aged man with his thin pencil mustache and arrogant-looking face waited for them. He looked them up and down critically, sniffed and then nodded, as if giving his blessing that they were dressed well enough to be allowed entrance into the dining room. Nik maintained his hardened expression, speaking not only in Spanish, but inCastilianSpanish, which only the upper-crust Lima residents spoke, not the bastardized, common Spanish that the masses spoke. The maître d’s eyes popped. And then he quickly cleared his throat and looked nervously down at his reservations book.
“Yes, of course Señor Morozov, you are right here.”
“I want that booth over there,” and Nik pointed to one in the darkened corner.
“Of course, sir,” he said, nodding and with a flourish, said, “I will take you there myself, Señor and Señorita?”
Daria looked up at Nik and withheld a smile. When he wanted to be, he was pure alpha male. Around her, he was not. Protective, yes. But nothing like the unearned arrogance of this maître d who was putting on so many airs that she wanted to laugh outright. But that wouldn’t have been a good idea, so Daria kept her game face on, pretending to be looking around utterly bored. Inwardly, her heart was starting to turn to mush. Every time Nik leaned close to her, she inhaled the male scent that made her lower body shimmer with possibility. She wished she could control her body, but she couldn’t. It clearly had a damned mind of its own. His softly-spoken endearment for her made her want him even more. She liked that he saw her as a deadly female jaguar. Indeed, she was.
The maître d made a huge, grand celebration, gesticulating with his arm, of pulling out the gold-colored mahogany chair for her. It was upholstered with a rich tapestry of blue, gold and soothing green tones. In fact, the pale green of the ceiling along with the equally pale blue of the walls did help her relax a little. She sat down and got comfortable, glad to see the maître d leave and a young Indian woman in a crisp long-sleeved white blouse and long black ankle-length skirt come over. She smiled at them and it was genuine.
“Welcome,” she greeted in flawless Spanish. “I am Maria.” She handed each of them a huge leather-bound menu. “May I get you something to drink?”
Nik looked at Daria who sat at his left arm. “What interests you?”
“I like wine. Do you?”
“I was weaned on wine at our local Catholic church, so yes, I like red wine. What kind do you prefer? Red or white? Or, perhaps champagne?” Nik opened the wine menu for her. He was going to spare no expense this night. He knew Korsak and the team would laugh themselves silly because he was well-known as ‘The Penny Pincher’ among them. They spent hundreds of US dollars on prostitutes. He saved his money. But there was no expense he would spare to make Daria happy. And that came from his heart, not from some act they were supposed to perform. He noticed, as he covertly slid his gaze around the room, that Brudin was not yet present, but he hadn’t expected the coarse Russian to be here right on time. He’d never get past the inspection of that haughty maître d. He’d be outside, hidden in the brush and trees, watching through a window. Nik hoped it started to rain and it soaked the bastard. That, or a poisonous centipede could maybe crawl up inside his pant leg and sting the hell out of him.
“Are you a white or red guy?” Daria asked.
“Either. I like all wine. Pick something you want to drink. We’ll order a bottle.”
Daria gave him a warm look and nodded. She showed their server the name of the wine, pointing it out on the menu.
Maria nodded and replied, “A very good white, Señorita. If you like a citrus finish? It is semi-sweet.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Daria said, thanking her.
Another waiter, an eager younger man, came over with a basket of freshly-baked bread and a silver bowl of butter accompanying it.
Daria sighed and looked around and said in Ukrainian, “This is truly a beautiful restaurant, Nik. Hard to imagine something this fancy out in the middle of the Peruvian jungle,” her expression softening even more.
“My eyes are only on you,” he murmured. He liked the fact that Daria knew Ukrainian as well. Brudin would go out of his mind when he found out she spoke that language. The other patrons nearby were from many countries, but he was betting that no one knew their shared mother tongue, so it was safer to talk in Ukrainian, instead. He saw Daria’s cheeks grow pink over his rasped compliment. His words stirred Daria and, to his surprise, she gave him a sweet smile that melted his heart.
“I think there are many sides to you, Nik Morozov.”
