Night Of The Condor. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ brows rose faintly. ‘I’m having a pisco sour, but I should warn you, they can be potent.’

      ‘When in Rome,’ Leigh said lightly. ‘Shall we sit down?’

      It was working, she thought, as she reached into her bag for a tissue she didn’t need. The stark uncovered blackness of the dress against her pale skin was a surefire winner. He could hardly take his eyes off her. Obviously blondes in model gowns were in short supply in the wilds of Atayahuanco. Well, let him eat his heart out.

      Although she had to admit, as he brought the drinks to their table, that he didn’t look like a man who would ever go short of female company, except through his own choice.

      He was more formally dressed this evening, in a pale, lightweight suit with a dark blue silk shirt. And if she was the cynosure of all the masculine eyes in the bar, she could not deny that he was being surveyed with discreet avidity by the women.

      Not that she could altogether blame them, she thought unwillingly. However much she might dislike him, she had to acknowledge that he was an attractive devil, and magnetically virile as well. And not lacking in charm either, she supposed, when he chose to exert it.

      Smilingly, she lifted her glass to him. ‘To our better understanding, Doctor Martinez.’

      His expression was enigmatic as he returned the toast. ‘Salud, Miss Frazier.’

      Leigh tasted her drink with a certain amount of caution. There was a tang of lemon, she recognised, and underneath it all, a kick like a mule. One, she thought, would undoubtedly be enough.

      ‘So—how are you enjoying Lima?’ he asked.

      Polite conversation, it seemed, was the order of the day, and Leigh obediently picked up her cue.

      ‘Interesting, but it has its drawbacks,’ she said lightly. ‘This constant mist, for one thing.’

      ‘Ah, the garua.’ He grinned slightly. ‘Legend has it that when the Spaniards asked the conquered Incas where was the best place to build their city, the Incas recommended Lima with deliberate malice.’

      She laughed. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. But, after all, it wasn’t Lima I came to see.’

      ‘I suppose not,’ he said smoothly, but across the table, the topaz eyes met hers in a clash like the ring of swords between two duellists. Leigh had to smother a slight gasp, but she forced herself to go on smiling.

      ‘I feel I haven’t had a chance to see the real Peru,’ she went on.

      ‘Lima is real enough,’ he said. ‘You’d be well advised to use your return ticket, Miss Frazier. Juanita at Peruvian Quest will help if there’s any problem over the flight.’

      Leigh sipped her drink, smiling coolly. ‘Oh, I’m not ready to cut short my trip yet awhile. This dreadful mist can’t last for ever, and I haven’t seen Cuzco yet—or Machu Picchu. I hear that’s really spectacular.’

      He finished his drink, and set down the glass. ‘Well, as long as you stick to the recognised tourist trails with an organised party, you won’t come to too much harm. Now, would you like another drink, or shall we have dinner? There’s a good place on the Carretera Central I thought I’d show you.’

      Leigh put down her own empty glass. ‘It sounds fascinating, but I’ve already arranged dinner, here in my suite.’ She watched him digest this, then added sweetly, ‘After all, I invited you—remember?’

      His eyes swept over her in a lingering, frankly disturbing appraisal. ‘I’m not likely to forget,’ he said. ‘And I’m still wondering why.’

      ‘To make amends—build bridges,’ Leigh said calmly. She gave him a brilliant smile. ‘After all, there’s no need for us to be bad friends, Doctor Martinez. We’re on the same side.’

      ‘Are we, Miss Frazier?’ he asked softly. ‘I think I might need some convincing of that.’

      ‘Well, the night is young.’ Leigh rose to her feet. ‘So—shall we go up and eat?’

      Her face was serene as she led the way to the lift, but at the same time she was aware of a distinct frisson of uneasiness. Rourke Martinez, she thought, was still proving a formidable opponent, although she thought she might be ahead on points—just.

      She shook herself. She couldn’t start losing her nerve now. He was a man, and capable of being manipulated like any other. And she had been adept at that kind of manipulation since her cradle.

      There was no reason, no reason at all to think that this time she might have met her match.

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE dinner, at least, was everything Leigh could have asked for. She had ordered one of the house specialities, chicken cooked with peppers and hot spices. Rourke Martinez ate with unconcealed appreciation, but Leigh was too much on edge to do more than toy gracefully with whatever was set in front of her. She let her companion make the conversational running too, while she tried to marshal her thoughts, and decide on the best line of attack.

      She had to concede that he was interesting to listen to. He touched lightly on such diverse topics as the ancient Inca civilisation, down to the current political situation. And he seemed, she realised, to be on nodding terms, or better, with any number of highly placed people in the government and the arts, although there was no element of name-dropping in what he told her. She was getting a glimpse of a very different world from her own, and under any other circumstances she would have revelled in it. As it was …

      She studied him covertly under her lashes, wondering about him. The ambiguity of his name puzzled her, for one thing, but she was also intrigued in other ways, in spite of herself. She found herself wondering if he was married, and if so where his wife was. If he was single, he didn’t look like a man who would readily accept a celibate existence. There was a definite element of sensuality in the curved lower lip of his forceful mouth.

      He was peeling some fruit, and as Leigh watched the deft movements of his lean, long-fingered hands, an inexplicable shiver ran through her. She was almost glad when the waiter who had been serving them returned to clear the table and bring coffee.

      She wondered if Rourke Martinez had been watching her watching him, and hurried into speech. ‘Were you born in Peru, Doctor Martinez?’

      He shook his head. ‘I was born in your own country, while my father was in political exile there. And I was named for my mother’s family. She happens to be Irish,’ he added. ‘Both my parents now live in the States.’ A note of amusement entered his voice. ‘What else would you like to know?’

      Any number of heated replies suggested themselves, but she quelled them, dismissing the hovering waiter before she poured the coffee. He, she recalled, took his black.

      The smile she sent him when they were alone was charming, but slightly self-deprecating. ‘I apologise for my curiosity, but I suppose it’s only natural under the circumstances.’

      ‘What circumstances are those?’ he enquired, accepting his cup from her.

      ‘Well——’ СКАЧАТЬ