“One of my favorites.”
“Zone hopping?”
“Yes. Does it not please you?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “What did you have to fork out in points for this?”
“I’m having the benefit of an exchange program.”
“One of your hotels?”
“You catch on quickly.”
He turned her palm up and kissed the healing flesh of her tattoo, something she noticed he did often.
The journey lasted six hours in direct flight and another four hours of transfer by vehicle before they arrived at a private beach resort on the north coast of Costa Rica. It was already dark. Fraya looked around in awe as a butler met them at the car, and a doorman carried their luggage to a house bordered by a tropical jungle at the back and a palm beach at the front.
By now Fraya recognized Emilio’s signature design in the wooden and slate construction. It was a two-story villa with a generous outdoor deck. The ground floor housed a kitchen, an enormous bathroom and a spacious living room with comfortable furniture in natural colors. Upstairs were two bedrooms, each with a king-sized bed covered with a mosquito net. There was a roof, but no walls. It would be like sleeping out in the open. The layout was minimalistic, but cozy. Fraya was already eyeing the outdoor Jacuzzi on a wooden deck in the garden, feeling a desperate need for a refreshing soak after the long journey and the humidity that made her skin sticky.
Dinner was laid out on the table downstairs. The open concertina wooden doors revealed the garden facing the beach, lit by Chinese lanterns. Fraya couldn’t make out the ocean in the dark, but she could hear the sound of it. A sweet aroma of jasmine flowers hung in the air. The butler lit the candles on the table and asked Emilio something about breakfast, but Fraya didn’t pay attention to their conversation. She was too busy falling in love with the place. It was so different from the skyscrapers on the horizon of her world.
Emilio touched her shoulder. “The dinner is warm. There is a sweet coconut curry and vegetable stew and flan for dessert. All synthetic, I’m afraid, but it’s not easy to find fresh produce here, not since most of the vegetation and jungle had been destroyed. The cook does wonders with artificial ingredients, though. You won’t taste the difference. Are you hungry, or would you like to freshen up first? We can heat the food up later, if you prefer.”
Appreciation for his considerate nature warmed her heart. “I could do with a shower, or the Jacuzzi, but I’m starving. Since the food’s ready, we may as well eat now.”
Fraya washed her hands and face in the downstairs bathroom and when she came back Emilio was pouring champagne into chilled glasses that immediately turned frosty in the warm, humid air, drops of condensation running down the sides. He pulled out her chair before taking his own.
“How many of these units are there?” she said.
“Only four. Like the others, it’s a boutique chain. It was designed for people who don’t like crowds.”
“Private beach?” she said, even if she already knew the answer.
“Crystal clear water. If you want we can go snorkeling tomorrow.”
Emilio lifted the lid of the casserole and a spicy fragrance escaped, making Fraya’s tummy rumble.
“It seems so quiet here,” she said, accepting the dish and serving spoon.
“It should. We’re the only ones.”
“No other guests?”
He shook his head.
“A place like this must be in continuous demand.”
“Two year waiting list,” he announced casually.
“You didn’t?” she asked with a tinge of disbelief.
“What?” he said innocently, passing her the vegetables.
“You didn’t rent the whole place out.”
He gave her his ten million dollar smile. “There are some benefits to being a boutique hotel engineer.”
“But the cost...”
“I wanted privacy.” He lifted his glass. “To our honeymoon.”
A shiver of anticipation ran over Fraya’s body as she lifted her glass to his.
After the meal Fraya felt lazy. Emilio had informed her that whatever her culinary wishes, she only had to say the word. A butler, barman, chef and housekeeper stood ready on their command, discreetly distant. An internal phone connected them to the butler’s cabana, half a mile from their residence. A fire blazed in the iron pit on the outside deck where they finished their champagne, and now Fraya was reluctant to leave her comfortable chair. Maybe a shower could wait a little bit longer.
Emilio sat next to her, his legs spread out, his face relaxed. His hair hung loose around his shoulders. He had changed from his suit into a pair of faded jeans and a white, open-neck shirt, his feet bare. Fraya watched his profile from the corner of her eye. He was lovely to look at. A man like him had to have plenty of female admirers. She found herself wondering about his past. Before she could help herself, the words tumbled from her lips.
“How come you were still single when we met?”
He looked at her, his gaze amused. “You’re interested in my sexual history?”
Fraya felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m not interested in your sex life,” she said, but it sounded rather unconvincing. “I was just wondering...”
“Why, at my advanced age, I wasn’t mated?”
She couldn’t say yes without insulting him, but he spared her any possible embarrassment by saying, “I had almost been mated once.”
Fraya was alarmed by the intensity with which her heart squeezed at that revelation.
“Almost?”
“It wasn’t a clean match. I met a girl during the second year of starting up my own company. Before then I was simply too busy to be bothered. I thought it could have worked, but before a six-month courting period was over, she had met a much more suitable match, a genuine mate, and that was that.”
“Did you love her?”
“I cared for her. She was gentle and sweet. But she would have never loved me as she loved her true mate.”
“And since then? No other candidates?”
“No.” His eyes held hers. “I guess nature knows what it’s doing.”
Fraya looked at the fire to escape Emilio’s gaze. Now he had found his perfect match. He had made the perfect mating. And still, he should feel the loss of love, the love that didn’t come with their arrangement.
When Fraya glanced back at him his expression had changed. She could see his eyes smolder in the light of the fire. She wanted him so badly she was almost ready to ask him to take her, right here, on the deck, in front of the fire. Almost. She couldn’t bring herself to admit her desire, not the physical one that was now controlled with the help of the hormone treatment, but a natural one that seemed just as consuming. It was a vulnerability she couldn’t afford.
He took her empty glass and placed it on the floor next to her chair.
“Come stand here,” he commanded, pointing at the space between his chair and the fire, and in that instant Fraya felt an internal fire ripping through her body.
“Take off your clothes.”
She had given herself to him for his sexual pleasure. He could have her naked with the flick of his fingers. Anytime, anywhere, and any way he wanted. And he wanted. So did she. Very, very much. Fraya removed the straps of her white dress, first the one, then the other, and let it fall to the floor. Next followed her white underwear. She watched Emilio as he studied her, and instead of experiencing a familiar sense of shyness, something new flooded her senses, a sense of power. He took his time to look at her and what she saw in his eyes made the flames of her desire burn higher.
“Undress me,” Emilio said, his voice hoarse.
That was a first, and it startled her, but she obeyed, starting with the buttons on his shirt. As she bent over him, his hands went to her breasts. She fumbled so much that he had to withdraw his touch to help her. Fraya stroked his shirt from his arms, watching his muscles flex as he moved forward to give her space to sweep it
down his back. There was a small hesitation as her hands reached for the clasp of his jeans. She released the clip and dipped her hands into the fabric, moving it over his hips and down his thighs as he lifted himself. She kneeled to free his legs from the fabric. Taking her hands that rested on his thighs, he pulled her up, against him.
In silent command he lifted first one, then the other thigh, moving her over his lap to straddle him. Fraya knew from his tight expression that there wasn’t going to be time for foreplay. His hands went to her hips and with a swift movement he lifted her on top of him, taking her with one, deep penetration. She gasped at the intensity of the sudden pleasure that ripped through her.
“I want you to take me Fraya,” he said.
Not moving was impossible. She needed to touch him. Her hands went to his chest, stroking, feeling, while her eyes feasted on the sight of him. She bent her head down to taste the skin of his collarbone, licking her way to the hard disk of his nipple. She heard the sharp intake of his breath and felt his skin contract under her touch. He groaned as she pressed against him, their flesh melting together. Fraya could hear her own moans filling the night. She arched her back and felt his fingers press into her hips.
“You’re killing me, Fraya.”
“More,” she panted. “I need more.”
Emilio grimaced. “If I give you more it’s over.”
“More,” she begged, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck.”
It was as if Fraya could physically feel Emilio’s restraint snap as he pulled her into him, obliging her wish, even if she hadn’t come to him. He took her hard and fast, like she knew he would. She could see the need burning in his eyes. And too soon her ache was fulfilled as she felt her body submit to his, to the pleasure only he could bring, to the heat that started to melt the coldness of her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emilio sat next to Fraya in the shallow water of the warm ocean. Their legs were stretched out in front of them in the sand, the pull of the sea lapping at their feet with sporadic intervals. The strings of Fraya’s bikini that tied on her hips moved with the water. He felt an urge to undo them, to release the red fabric, watch it pull back with the tide and float to the bottom of the ocean, for all he cared. The thought that other men had seen her in that very same bathing suit filled him with an unknown possessiveness.
In the four days they had been here, they had made love everywhere–in the bed, on the patio, in the Jacuzzi, on the beach, and just now, in the ocean. He couldn’t possibly demand her again. Yet, his body could. He seemed to never get enough of his mate. She was different to any other woman he had ever known. And his feelings were different. Even his physical behavior had changed. What they were doing with such satisfying intensity was more than fucking. It was making love. Emilio couldn’t believe his luck. She was the perfect woman, and she was mated to him. For the first time in his life he almost felt happy. Almost. Despite their mutually satisfying lovemaking, he could still feel Fraya’s emotional distance.
He regarded her perfect body, shimmering with the glitter of droplets and sand stuck to her skin. She seemed preoccupied and he knew why. Her thoughts were no doubt milling around work. From the day he had learned about her history and her achievements, he had admired her strength and her intelligence. He loved that as much as he loved her body. He marveled at her independence as much as he doted on her sweet face. Yet, a part of him loathed the thought of having to let her go for another eight days the minute they got back home. The selfish part of him wanted her with him, day and night. The mature part of him realized that Fraya could not have her wings clipped or be commanded. Even as he demanded the physical part of her, he knew the day would come when he’d have to set her free. His only hope was that she would, by then, love him enough to stay. But more than anything, he wanted her to succeed. He wanted her to fulfill her dreams, even if it meant opening the tight fist he felt like wrapping around her, watching her go every eight days with an ache in his loins and an even deeper pain in his heart. He would do anything for this woman.
“Where are you?” he said, wiping her wet hair behind her ear.
She stared into the distance. “Am I not here?”
“We’re only scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow. If you want, we can go back sooner. I could get the plane here this afternoon.”
Her head turned quickly, her beautiful dark eyes looking both hopeful and uncertain. “Is it that obvious?”
“That you’re worried about work? Yes, it’s clear, at least to me.”
“You’re not mad?”
He touched her cheek, felt the smoothness of her skin under his palm. “I like that about you.”
She awarded him with a brilliant smile. “That I’m preoccupied?”
“That you’re dedicated.”
“It’s so beautiful here.” She looked back over the ocean. “This was the most thoughtful gift ever, Emilio.” She faced him again. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”
“I don’t.”
“So you won’t mind if we head home today?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.” He saw her shoulders visibly relax. “What’s eating you?”
“It’s this problem I’ve got to figure out. I just can’t get my head around it.”
Emilio watched the little frown that played on her brow. He enjoyed studying her when her guard was down, when she didn’t wear a mask. Her answer was evasive, but he decided not to question her. Fraya was the kind of woman who had to work things out for herself.
Her face smoothed, as if her thoughts had shifted. She turned on her side, resting her head in her hand.
“I’ll never forget this. Thank you. At least we’ve had enough sex to still our addiction for another eight days,” she offered in an attempt of humor, he knew, but he was in a serious mood.
He moved over her, pushing her body into the soft sand.
“I need you less, but I want you more,” he said, searching her eyes, and then her lips.
* * * *
Traveling back to the observatory, Fraya’s mind wasn’t on the preliminary proposal she had spent her remaining two days in Santiago fine-tuning, or the unexpected ally she had found in Welser when she had presented her plan in his office. It was on Emilio and his sudden tenderness. Could he at last have forgiven her for her betrayal? Him being kind to her didn’t help her determination not to get hurt. It made it difficult not to fall for the man who didn’t love her.
Reprimanding herself for not being focused on the task at hand, her thoughts went back to Welser’s reaction to her proposal. He had seemed supportive, but was evasive in making any promises. Welser had warned her that she would have to sell her idea to Saunders, and she wasn’t sure of the level of resistance she would encounter. Already Saunders wasn’t making a secret of how unhappy he was about her employment, and now she was going to suggest veering from the path of the objective laid out for her.
Walking into Saunders’s office on Monday morning, armed with her scientific paper, she reminded herself that this was her dream. It was what she had envisioned herself doing, and if not, her career would seem like a failure. Her goals were getting in the way of her job, but she still harbored the belief that the two could be married without stepping on Andrews’s toes, if only Saunders would see it in the same way.
Now she watched Saunders go through her document with agonizing attention, scrutinizing every line and every formula.
Fraya sat silently facing him. At long last he looked up, his expression incredulous.
“You’re actually asking me to change your job description,” he said tightly.
She focused on his creased shirt and mismatching tie, trying to remain still and not bounce her knee and bite her nails like she wanted to. “It’s possible to do both.”
“You’re proposing archeology, not astronomy.”
“It’s archeological astronomy.”
Saunders threw the pap
er down. “And your part in it is astronomy. You’re asking me to send you into the field. I signed you on for a desk job.”
“But the field work is integral to the astronomical side of it. I can’t do it properly if I’m bound to my desk.”
“We already have an archeologist on site. If we needed another one, the International Association would have appointed one. First you convinced me to let you meddle in cosmology with your dark matter theory, and now this! I’ve already busted my balls to get you time on the telescopes for a project that doesn’t fit your job description. I’ve made promises, created expectations, and now I need an answer to dark matter, damn it, not to mythology.”
“It would be an incredible find for the SWO. Funds would be granted from other governmental departments and international organizations if we can pull this off.”
“This is horse-shit crazy. You’re suggesting finding some acclaimed lost city based on mapping the stars.”
“Others have. They’ve revolutionized the theory behind the history of the Egyptian and Inca pyramids. We will do the same.”
“I’m familiar with Hancock’s work,” he said with irritation. “That’s old news. But Hancock was an archeologist. And you’re not. This is Professor Andrews’s territory.”
“Yes, but both Hancock and Andrews needed astronomers to match the geographic layout of the ancient sites to star constellations to determine a time slot for the actual construction of the sites.”
“And it had been done. They’ve fixed it at 10 500 BC. So what?”
Fraya pointed at the graph in front of him. “All the known sites are situated on longitudes spaced seventy-two degrees around the globe. They follow a line drawn from the Equator at the mouth of the Amazon River. The line crosses over the source of the Nile, the mouth of the Tigris, Euphrates, the Indus River and the Bay of Bengal near the mouth of the Ganges River. There are seven sites on the line. But the line also crosses over unexplored areas, such as the Sahara Desert, the Brazilian rainforest, the highlands of New Guinea, the underwater areas of the North Atlantic and South Pacific Oceans and the South China Sea. There must be other sites. Look at this. If we take the seventy-two degree division into account, there are two sites missing in the Southern World. Here,” she tapped her finger on the map, “and here. Zone 30, Atacama and Zone 78, Peru, close to the Nazca lines that lie two hundred miles south of Lima. Atacama is within our jurisdiction.”
The Astronomer Page 27
