waiting."
Forty-five minutes later we stood in the semidarkness of my hotel room, and I took Tanya roughly in my arms. I kissed her and her tongue slid into my mouth. She moved her hips up against me.
"Oh, Rafael," she breathed.
"Take your clothes off," I said.
"Yes."
We undressed in the dark. In a few seconds we were both standing there nude, looking hungrily at each other. Tanya was one of the most beautifully built women I'd ever seen. My eyes devoured the full, round breasts, the small waist, curving hips, and long, smooth thighs. And I was captivated by her smooth, sensual voice. The voice that had spoken to me so softly and persuasively at the clinic. There was an extra magnetism between us because of that special relationship. I hungered for the body that belonged to that lulling, inviting voice, the voice that had such power over me.
We walked to the bed together and I kissed her there, pulling her close to me and feeling her taught breasts against me, moving my hands down over the swelling curves of her hips.
We were both breathing hard. I released her, and she lay down on the bed, her full curves creamy against the whiteness of the sheets. I remembered the passionate moments in my room at the clinic. Suddenly I had another memory, the one from the dream I'd had at the clinic. I saw Tanya stretched out on a sofa instead of the bed, her entire body inviting me to join her. Had it just been a dream? Or had it really happened? I was terribly confused.
I got into the bed and lay close beside her, facing her. I touched her burning lips with mine, then moved my mouth across her throat and shoulder.
"Do you have an apartment in Caracas?" I asked between kisses.
"Why, yes," she answered, startled.
"Do you have a wide sofa in the apartment?"
She looked at me, and I thought I saw fear in her eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"That was where we first made love, wasn't it?" I said. "Before the clinic. It wasn't in my apartment, as you told me. My apartment doesn't have a sofa like that one." They had shown me a couple of pictures of my apartment on Avenido Bolivar.
Tanya seemed upset. "Is it important?" she asked.
"Not really," I said, kissing the hollow of her throat. "It just came to me when I saw you lying here."
Her face relaxed again. "You're right, Rafael. It was my apartment. I was just testing you at the clinic to see if you could remember."
"Because of the mission?"
"Because of my female vanity." She smiled and pressed insistently against me.
I stopped worrying about it and forgot everything but the urgency of my desire and the velvet softness of her flesh.
Eight
Hawk, Vincent, and I went to the White Palace early the next morning. Most of the regular security force had been there all night. By six a.m. it was already a madhouse. Hawk told Vincent and me to check out the conference room and adjacent rooms before nine-thirty, when the conference was scheduled to begin. I was very jumpy. It gave me a weird feeling to be making all these security checks, moving so easily among the people who were there for the sole purpose of stopping me. If I hadn't been so nervous, I'd have enjoyed the irony of it all. The security men nodded and smiled at me, never suspecting I was the one who'd see to it that no one left the conference room alive.
Throughout the morning the faces from the orientation room came back to me over and over again, and every time it happened, I'd break out in a cold sweat. The intensity of my hatred was tearing me apart. I wanted to get on with it, to get the job done, to rid the world of those two evil men.
"Well, here it is an hour before conference time," Hawk said to me, "and we have nothing more to go on than we had when we left Washington. Except that we can look for a tall man that nobody but you has seen."
"That isn't my fault," I said sharply.
Hawk studied my face, and I realized I'd done it again. I avoided his piercing eyes.
"Who the hell said it was?" he snapped back.
"I'm…
Forty-five minutes later we stood in the semidarkness of my hotel room, and I took Tanya roughly in my arms. I kissed her and her tongue slid into my mouth. She moved her hips up against me.
"Oh, Rafael," she breathed.
"Take your clothes off," I said.
"Yes."
We undressed in the dark. In a few seconds we were both standing there nude, looking hungrily at each other. Tanya was one of the most beautifully built women I'd ever seen. My eyes devoured the full, round breasts, the small waist, curving hips, and long, smooth thighs. And I was captivated by her smooth, sensual voice. The voice that had spoken to me so softly and persuasively at the clinic. There was an extra magnetism between us because of that special relationship. I hungered for the body that belonged to that lulling, inviting voice, the voice that had such power over me.
We walked to the bed together and I kissed her there, pulling her close to me and feeling her taught breasts against me, moving my hands down over the swelling curves of her hips.
We were both breathing hard. I released her, and she lay down on the bed, her full curves creamy against the whiteness of the sheets. I remembered the passionate moments in my room at the clinic. Suddenly I had another memory, the one from the dream I'd had at the clinic. I saw Tanya stretched out on a sofa instead of the bed, her entire body inviting me to join her. Had it just been a dream? Or had it really happened? I was terribly confused.
I got into the bed and lay close beside her, facing her. I touched her burning lips with mine, then moved my mouth across her throat and shoulder.
"Do you have an apartment in Caracas?" I asked between kisses.
"Why, yes," she answered, startled.
"Do you have a wide sofa in the apartment?"
She looked at me, and I thought I saw fear in her eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"That was where we first made love, wasn't it?" I said. "Before the clinic. It wasn't in my apartment, as you told me. My apartment doesn't have a sofa like that one." They had shown me a couple of pictures of my apartment on Avenido Bolivar.
Tanya seemed upset. "Is it important?" she asked.
"Not really," I said, kissing the hollow of her throat. "It just came to me when I saw you lying here."
Her face relaxed again. "You're right, Rafael. It was my apartment. I was just testing you at the clinic to see if you could remember."
"Because of the mission?"
"Because of my female vanity." She smiled and pressed insistently against me.
I stopped worrying about it and forgot everything but the urgency of my desire and the velvet softness of her flesh.
Eight
Hawk, Vincent, and I went to the White Palace early the next morning. Most of the regular security force had been there all night. By six a.m. it was already a madhouse. Hawk told Vincent and me to check out the conference room and adjacent rooms before nine-thirty, when the conference was scheduled to begin. I was very jumpy. It gave me a weird feeling to be making all these security checks, moving so easily among the people who were there for the sole purpose of stopping me. If I hadn't been so nervous, I'd have enjoyed the irony of it all. The security men nodded and smiled at me, never suspecting I was the one who'd see to it that no one left the conference room alive.
Throughout the morning the faces from the orientation room came back to me over and over again, and every time it happened, I'd break out in a cold sweat. The intensity of my hatred was tearing me apart. I wanted to get on with it, to get the job done, to rid the world of those two evil men.
"Well, here it is an hour before conference time," Hawk said to me, "and we have nothing more to go on than we had when we left Washington. Except that we can look for a tall man that nobody but you has seen."
"That isn't my fault," I said sharply.
Hawk studied my face, and I realized I'd done it again. I avoided his piercing eyes.
"Who the hell said it was?" he snapped back.
"I'm…
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