Murder on the Riviera (10 page)

“I promise to take you out to a three course Brazilian dinner later on.” Pedro spoke as he dipped a slice of tangerine into his sensual mouth.

Herculea tried not to fantasize as she watched him eat the fruit.  She resisted a sudden urge to sit closer to him and feed him the fruit.  Some people preferred oysters or chocolate as aphrodisiacs, but to Herculea, fruit was the most erotic of all foods.  It came unadulterated from the earth, not tarnished by the hands of man.  It was juicy and pulpy and light, the perfect appetizer to a much more satisfying carnal meal.

The look on Pedro’s face was blatantly inviting, and Herculea knew instinctively that he was trying to seduce her.  Yet, he was also aroused, she realized, as she caught a glimpse of the smoldering depth his eyes had taken on.  It would be a battle of wills if she were to resist this man indefinitely.  She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to resist him.  It bothered her that women always worried about men conquering them and seizing the power.  If it pleased her to go to bed with him, then she would, without consideration of archaic rules.

“A Brazilian dinner sounds wonderful,” Herculea enthused, as Pedro topped off her glass with mango juice.

“Good.  I know just the place to take you.” He stood up and gestured towards the massive yard.  “Would you like to explore?”

Herculea immediately caught the double meaning of his words.  Rising from her seat, she allowed him to take her into the thick, wet jungle that lay ahead.

Chapter 6

Back at the hotel, Kent paced in his room.  Herculea had been gone for hours. The memory of Pedro’s smugly handsome features made Kent’s blood pressure soar.  Then, he felt foolish.  Why hadn’t he confessed to Herculea long ago that he was in love with her?

Kent conjured the image of Herculea the first time they met.  Her shiny black hair had been embroidered into a silky French braid that trailed down the middle of her back.  She had been wearing a form-fitting beige business suit and high heels to boost her petite stature.  Herculea had burst at the seams with enthusiasm and ambition.  Kent had fallen in love with her that day.  All these years he had restrained himself around Herculea, putting up a front of professionalism.

Kent couldn’t take it anymore.  He was sure he would go insane if he stayed one more minute in his hotel room.  He walked across the hall to Herculea’s room.  Maybe she had returned and he didn’t even realize it.  He knocked gently at the door, shocked when it budged inward.  It was open!

“Herculea?  Are you in here?” Kent called out to an empty room.

When no reply sounded, he walked cautiously inside.  Nothing was in disarray.  Everything seemed to be as she would have left it.  Kent walked towards the unmade bed, startled to see Herculea’s cell phone on the nightstand.  She had been in a hurry that morning.  Kent found it unsettling that she was out with Pedro without her cell phone.  If she didn’t return by that evening, Kent resolved to find her.

*****

Hand in hand, Pedro and Herculea walked deeper into the thicket of trees and plants.  The vast acres of land that lay beyond the house were uncultivated.  Herculea stumbled over a stray branch, and Pedro gripped her hand tightly.  The air felt cool, even though the humidity was relentless.

“Where are we going?” Herculea asked a bit nervously.

They must have walked a mile by now through coarse and winding terrain.  She hoped Pedro knew where they were going.

“Just exploring,” he answered in his typical evasive fashion.

Herculea glanced behind them.  Everything looked the same.  Without a compass, she would never be able to find her way out of this natural maze.  She eased closer to Pedro’s body, as he squeezed her hand.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothed.  “I thought you liked adventures?” He added, smirking.

“I do.  I just don’t like to get lost.”

He paused in midstep and boldly wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing the length of her body into his. “Sometimes it is good to get lost,” he said in a low voice that ended on a subtle growl.

He leaned down to capture her lips in his, sliding his mouth masterfully across hers and holding her even more tightly.  In an instant she
was
lost.  There was nothing she could do to stop the rollercoaster of sensations that ascended, swirled, and plummeted through her as he claimed her in his embrace.  She did not allow herself to think, only to feel, to feel fully and rapturously the contact their bodies made.

She entwined her hands in his wavy hair, standing on tiptoes to offer her mouth completely.  Pedro claimed her lips with a hunger she felt deep in the pit of her stomach as well.  It was a hunger that had raged inside of her all through the many months it had been since a man had touched her.  Now, against all common sense, she permitted herself to satiate that hunger with Pedro.

Gently, he eased her onto a bed of wet leaves.  She shivered deliciously at the mixture of cool sensations from the earth and burning emotions radiating from Pedro’s mouth.  She lay willingly on her back, instinctively wrapping her legs around Pedro’s lean waist, even though they were both still fully clothed.  He reciprocated those instincts by positioning himself between her legs, which were bare in her sundress and covered in moist leaves.  He was surprised to hear her moan in pleasure a moment later.  This woman was starving for sensuality, he realized, as his arousal mounted.

“Lost,” he whispered, while trailing his full lips down her neck and yanking on her dress.

She helped him, pulling the dress down to her hips, revealing a lithe body and lace bra.  Hastily, he grabbed his belt and undid the buckle.  In a cloud of furious haste, his shirt and pants came off as well.  Herculea surfaced from erotic oblivion long enough to take a thorough inventory of the man’s beautiful body.  His chest was even broader and more finely muscled than it looked in clothes, and he had a virile covering of hair on his perfect bronze skin.  His chest was like a comforting forest.  She reached up her hands to weave in the thick mass of hair covering his rib cage and firm pectoral muscles.

Pedro returned his attention to her mouth, inserting his tongue as he peeled her bra off her delicate shoulders.  Once her breasts were revealed, he bowed his head reverently to them, staring intently before darting his tongue out to taste one.  He licked the bud back and forth as rhythmically as he had danced the tango with her.  She arched her back beneath him, tossing her hair onto the bed of leaves and lightly digging her nails into his back as he made a feast of her flesh.

Her body felt wet from head to toe.  She was not sure if the moisture was from pure arousal, the wet leaves, or the rain that had begun to fall again ever so lightly.  She opened her eyes to see a sheath of sweat on Pedro’s torso and realized that the stickiness in her hair was sweat as well.

The ground felt fertile; the elements were alive and wild.  She cried out exultantly when Pedro finally pressed his hardness demandingly against her womanhood.  She could feel his complete arousal and commanding size, and she relaxed all her muscles, opening her body excitedly.  He pushed into her with a single, skillful stroke, burying himself all the way inside the soft wetness and groaning with pleasure.

The moved in synch with each other’s natural rhythm, flowing in erotic circles together to the music of breathless rasps of excitement.  Herculea looked up for a moment at the cloudy gray sky and felt a raindrop fall onto her tongue as she continued to press her hips upward, matching Pedro’s every thrust.  He shoved his hands beneath her body, lifting her hips higher and gripping her waist as he stared down at her naked breasts and groaned again.

A moment later, Herculea felt tremors rock her body violently, and she screamed into the fresh air and rain as Pedro pushed harder to heighten her climax.  She moaned with each tremor that coursed through her and sighed in delight as she felt him reach his own intense pinnacle.

They lay together in silence, their bodies still intertwined at every angle, sweat and rain soaking their bare skin.  All that could be heard was their irregular breathing and the drift of the wind through the trees.  Herculea slowly and reluctantly came back to reality, unable to believe that she was lying in the wilderness in Brazil with a virtual stranger.  She looked over at him.  His eyes were closed, but the continued irregularity of his breathing told her that he wasn’t sleeping.

Affectionately, he caressed her sweaty hair, and she felt an uncomfortable twinge of self-awareness.  She tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let her.  Instead, he placed a hand on her cheek and leaned down to kiss her shoulder.

“Stay lost with me,” he urged in a tone that bordered on pleading.

Herculea fought the impulse to present him with a litany of questions that had no place there.  She wanted to enjoy this indulgent sense of being lost just a little bit longer.  So she again pushed her intellect aside and snuggled close to Pedro’s heart, resting her cheek on the matted hair of his solid chest.

A halo of afternoon sun was dipping underneath smoky clouds when Herculea finally stirred again.  Rubbing her eyes and pushing her bangs away from her still sticky forehead, she realized that she had fallen asleep in Pedro’s arms.  It had been a deep and dreamless sleep, and she felt more like she was awaking from a coma than a nap as she fidgeted against him.  He opened his eyes and squinted for a moment, then smiled as he looked over at her.

“Good morning?  Or afternoon…or evening? I really have no idea,” he mumbled in a groggy voice.

“I think it must be close to sunset.” She conjectured, gazing at the patterns in the sky.

“Then we should go have dinner.  You must be starving.” Pedro shifted and reached for his clothing strewn across some twigs next to them.

At the mention of the word “dinner” Herculea’s stomach rumbled.  All she had eaten that day was fruit.  She looked down at her partial nudity, her dress twisted around her hips.  She readjusted her dress and stood up self-consciously.  Now she was wide awake and painfully aware of how vulnerable she had allowed herself to be.  The whole setting seemed surreal.  She looked away from Pedro.

“Your house is that way, right?” She asked, pointing east.

“Yes, it is.  Let’s go.” He zipped up his pants and took her by the hand.

It was quite a hike to get back to the house.  Herculea had forgotten how much ground they had covered earlier in the day.  When they finally reached the house, Herculea felt weak and in dire need of a wholesome meal.  Against her vegetarian beliefs, she found herself craving a plump, juicy steak with creamy mashed potatoes swimming in salty gravy.  And a glass of full-bodied red wine. Herculea began to salivate at the succulent meal she had created in her imagination.

She trudged behind Pedro up the staircase leading to the patio and followed him inside.  The stepped into a large den.  Mahogany furniture and forest green walls occupied the masculine space.  There was a bar table with a decanter of what looked to be cognac.  It was surprisingly dark and windowless in the room, and Herculea did not notice any lamps or other electronics.

As though reading her mind, Pedro said, “The only electricity I have here is the freezer.  It seems a waste to have other modern conveniences since I’m here so infrequently.  Call me a survivalist.”

Herculea’s head began to spin with a combination of hunger and discomfiture.  She felt the need to be alone and collect her thoughts.  And remember her mission here in Brazil.  She did not want to spend the evening with Pedro.

“I think I should be getting back to my hotel,” she blurted out as Pedro whipped around to face her with a stern expression.

“Why would you want to go back to your hotel?  I’m going to take you to dinner,” he said tightly.

“It’s been a long day.  And yesterday was a long day too.  I think I’m jet lagged.”

Yes.  That was a revelation.  The reason she had fallen asleep outdoors in broad daylight with a semi-stranger at her side was her jet lag.  Well, that and the mind-numbing sex that had preceded it.  But it was mainly the jet lag.  It was so unlike her to let her guard down in front of someone she did not know or trust.

Suddenly, she could taste the mango juice on the tip of her tongue. Alarmed, she recalled the slight bitterness of the drink.  Maybe he really had laced it with alcohol and that’s what caused her to be intimate with him and sleep so soundly afterwards.

“I guess we could have dinner at one of the hotel’s restaurants,” Pedro suggested, not seeming to grasp her desire to be alone.

Feeling violated, but not wanting to discuss it, she protested, “I’m just so tired.  And this is a business trip for me, after all.  My time in Brazil is limited, and I have to get some strength back to do my work.” Herculea spoke decisively, not caring at the moment if she offended Pedro.  She was not his prisoner.

“Oh, yes.  You are going to interview some capoeira artists?” Pedro asked with a hint of condescension in his voice.

Herculea hesitated before replying.  She did not want to go into detail about her search for the Silver Goddess, but she would see if Pedro could at least point her in the direction of Vinova.

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.  I want to find the Silver Goddess and observe her life on the Island of Vinova.  I’m planning a research project.”

Pedro’s face froze in visible shock.  “Are you crazy?” He boomed.

Confused by his reaction, she simply exclaimed, “What?!”

“You cannot do that.  You don’t know how dangerous she is.  And you cannot reach her island by ordinary means.  It’s impossible.” Pedro spoke quickly and irrationally.

“You’re the one who told me about her!  And you told me to try to find her!  I’m an anthropologist, a scientist of humans.  If this woman really exists, I am going to find her and study her,” Herculea said stubbornly.

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound?” Pedro snorted cynically.

In that insulting moment, Herculea shut down.  She would not tell Pedro anything else about her plans.  She just hoped he would drive her safely back to the hotel.  They were in the middle of nowhere, and she would not be able to hail a cab.  Hitchhiking would be the only option to get back to Rio, and that was far too dangerous.

“Please take me back to the hotel,” she said quietly.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.  You could have a romantic stay in Brazil with me.  I can show you the best this country has to offer.  Instead, you want to go on some wild witch hunt.”

Pedro shook his head angrily, as Herculea heaved an impatient sigh.  Before Herculea could open her mouth to argue with Pedro, a golden glimmer caught her eye from across the room.  Sitting on a coffee table was a thick hardcover book decorated with gold calligraphy.  Intuitively, Herculea knew it was somehow important.  She walked a few steps towards the table so she could read the book’s title.  As soon as her brain processed the words, she gasped in horror:
The Immortality Abyss
.