Island Tango (Silver Goddess Series, Book One) (7 page)

“Is this for me?” Kent asked, looking confused.

“No.” Herculea frowned, instantly knowing that the gift had not been from Kent.  “No, it was delivered to my room this morning.  Someone brought it to the hotel.”

Kent opened the box, his eyes widening as he inspected the shiny jewelry inside.  “Who gave you this?”
             
“I don’t know.  Someone anonymous who wrote this notecard.” Herculea placed the card in his hand.

“See you
soon, beautiful?” He read on a questioning
intonation.  “But who could this be from here in Rio?”

“That’s what I was wondering.  I have no idea.” Herculea shook her head.

“I’m no jewelry appraiser, but I would say this looks authentic.  These are genuine sapphires, and the gold could be 18 Carats.”  Kent said in amazement.

“I think I should call the front d
esk and see if they can give me any more information.”  Herculea took the box from Kent and started to walk away.  “
I’ll
meet you in the dining room
in a half hour for breakfast, OK
?”

Giving her a stern look, Kent replied, “Yes, I’ll meet you there.  Be careful, Herculea.”

The warning was spoken
in an avuncular fashion, but the look in his eyes betrayed far less platonic feelings blended with almost palpable concern.

Inside her room, Herculea rang the front desk.  She recognized the voice of the man who answered as the one who had
woken
her up earlier in the morning.  “This is Herculea Sanchez in room 518.”

“Yes, Miss Sanchez.  How may I help you?”

“I receive
d the package
.  Do you know who it is from? “
             
The phone line was silent except for the delicate crackling of sound waves.

The man sighed deeply and finally responded.  “I am not at liberty to tell you that.”

The line went dead a second later.

Herculea was flabberg
asted. 
The man’s response had been completely unacceptable---and a little scary.  Herculea slipped out of her robe and shuffled over to the bathroom.  Hurriedly, she lathered guava shampoo into her grimy hair, soaping her skin with furious circular motions.  She needed to keep her promise to Kent and make it to breakfast in less than a half hour. 
But first she would go to the front desk and confront the
employee
who had hung up on her.

There would be no time to blow dry and style her hair.  She would have to let it air dry, even though it would look like a riotous mess in the
Brazilian humidity
.  Choosing a sky blue cotton dress and slipping into a pair of matching flip flops, Herculea quickly ran a brush through her thick waves and ran out of the room towards the elevator.

She hated elevators. They made her claustrophobic, and she had spent far too much time indoors recently.  Longingly, Herculea shut her eyes to drown out the strident beeping of the elevator and replace
it
with the soothing whir of ocean waves.  This trip didn’t have to be all business, she told herself.  In fact, she was long overdue for a vacation.  Maybe in the afternoon she could take a taxi to the beach and stretch out under the sun, even do a few yoga poses on the sand.

The elevator door opened at lobby level,
jolting
Herculea back to reality.  She ran
towards the front desk.  The lobby was vast and reminded her of the
ostentatious
dance hall Pedro had taken her to.  It had not even been a week ago, yet it felt like an eternity.  She tried to get her bearings in
t
his astrodome of a lobby that jutted out to all four corners of the hotel.  She didn’t know what direction to take, and there didn’t seem to be any signs.

A slightly amused voice spoke to her from behind.  “Do you like the necklace?”
             
Immediately recognizing the
deep-timbered
Spanish accent, she whirled around and found herself face to face with Pedro.

Chapter 5

Pedro took several methodical steps forward until he was practically
mouth to mouth
with Herculea.  Astonished, she
rubbed her
eyes to see if it was really Pedro standing before her, or just a mirage formulated in her head as a result of too much travel and too little nourishment.

“I asked you if you like the necklace.” Pedro coaxed, cocking his head to the side and favoring her with a confident grin.

Herculea was speechless. The room began to spin around her, and she desperately needed a drink of water. 
What was he doing here? 
He was relentless in appraising her, just as he had been since the moment they met at the gym back in San Francisco.

“The necklace was from you?”

His eyes sparkled more brilliantly than the sapphires as he easily replied, “Of course.  So much better than a text message, don’t you think?” He winked at her as his grin broadened.

“What?” She asked in confusion.

“After the night we shared, I knew that you are no ordinary woman.  So I had to do something extraordinary for you.  I thought about sending flowers to your
office
, but that is much too cliché.  And of course a text message or voicemail wouldn’t be good enough.  So, I selected the necklace for you.  The colors complement your honey skin beautifully.”

Herculea listened to his excessive flattery in stark disbelief.  All this time, she had been neurotically checking her phone and had even dismissed him as uninterested.  But now, here he was at her hotel in Brazil, showering her with romantic compliments and an
expensive
gift.

“But how did you know I was here?” She asked, still unable to grasp the fact that Pedro was there in the flesh.

“You told me you were going to Rio.”

“Yes, but I didn’t tell you
where I was staying
.” Herculea argued.

Pedro waved his hand dismissively.  “I had a feeling you were here.”

“You had a feeling?  But that’s crazy.  This is Rio de Janeiro.  There must be hundreds of hotels here.”

“Herculea, do not waste your time on unimportant details.  I found your hotel, I found you, and now
can
continue where we left off last week.”

As he spoke, he
looked
so deeply into her eyes that she could discern tiny flecks of color in his pupils.  Reluctantly, she found herself enraptured once again. 
S
he was powerless to ask any further questions.  She was swimming in his presence, but struggling to stay afloat, sinking breathlessly beneath the water of his
cappuccino
eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.  The necklace is so beautiful.  Thank you.  I’m just so shocked right now.” Herculea said in a soft tone, as Pedro reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, banishing any doubts that he was a hallucination.

“
De nada
.  You look like you need a good mea
l.  Let me take you somewhere.”

He enfolded her hand in his and started to lead her towards the hotel’s revolving door
s
.  He seemed to know the place so well, it was uncanny.  Suddenly, she remembered her breakfast with Kent.  He was already worried about her and would be frantic if she stood him up.

“Pedro, I can’t go with you right now.  I’m supposed to meet my colleague for breakfast.”

Pedro’s glit
tering expression instantly darken
ed.  “Herculea, you are supposed to be with me.  Our adventure has not even begun.  Come, trust me.”

Hypnotized as she was by Pedro, she definitely did not trust him and found it disingenuous for him to make such a request of someone he had
met a week ago
.

“What’s the hurry?  I just got to Brazil, and I don’t like to disappoint my friends.” Herculea spoke confidently and felt satisfied to have regained some of her normal composure, not to mention good sense.

Before Pedro could respond, a deafening roar of thunder tore across the sky.  Herculea looked out the window, shocked to see a violent onslaught of rain pounding down.  Chaos instantly erupt
ed
in the hotel.

“Tropical storm!” A young man ran by shouting.  “Hurricane!  Bring everything inside!” He urged in Portuguese.

Unfazed, Pedro looked condescendingly at the frantic young employee.  “It’s just a little rain shower.” He scoffed.

“I don’t think so.” Herculea protested.  “Look how dark the sky is.” She pointed outside to an atmosphere that was shaded in gloomy gray and raven.

As Herculea assessed the unexpected assault from Mother Nature, Kent strolled up next to her.

“There you are.  Are you ready for breakfast?  I believe the dining room is just down the hall.”
Kent addressed Herculea.

Kent
didn’t notice the volatile expression plastered on Pedro’s face, nor did it register in his head that Herculea knew the man.  Pedro spoke before Herculea could.

“But what about
o
ur
breakfast date, Herculea?” Pedro
gave her a meaningful look.

Kent noticed Pedro for the first time, frowning at the sight of the man’s impeccable business suit, thick black waves, and rugged stubble.

“Who is this?” Kent addressed Herculea.

Uncomfortably, she introduced the two men.  “Kent, this is Pedro.  Pedro, this is my colleague, Kent.  We work together at the university back home.”

The two men held a competitive stance and refrained from shaking hands.

Pedro remained smugly silent, but Kent was not satisfied with Herculea’s vague introduction.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t catch how you know Pedro?”

Herculea was again at a loss for words.  Pedro had no title in her life, no significance at all, really.  What would be the appropriate way to introduce him?  For some reason, she felt guilty telling Kent that she and Pedro had
been on a date
.  Even though he had no right to be, Kent was clearly jealous, and she did not want to hurt his feelings.

As Herculea mulled over an answer in her mind, Pedro stepped in and said possessively, “Herculea and I are
in a new relationship
.  We met in San Francisco, and I have flown halfway around the world to be with her…and to present her with a necklace unworthy of her beauty.”

Herculea winced.  The pain on Kent’s face was almost tangible, and for the first time, she wondered if
he had real feelings for her
.

Collecting himself quickly, Kent cleared his throat and said, stone-faced, “Enjoy your breakfast, Herculea.”

Without looking in her direction, he turned and walked away.
She felt unreasonably devastated as she watched Kent’s broad back disappear into the distance.  Herculea did not notice that the rain had begun to pour in sheets, nor did she see the swarm of workers buzzing around her carrying inside soaking picnic tables and patio-style furniture.  Pedro gently encircled her wrist in his grip.

“Come, Herculea.  Let’s go to my home for breakfast.”

“Your home?” She echoed.

“
S
í
, I told you I
travel frequently.
  Brazil is one of many places I call
home.”

Pedro produced a black umbrella from his jacket pocket, opening the door in front of them and shielding Herculea from the incessant rain.  They ran in unison from the hotel to Pedro’s car.  It was obviously expensive with a sunroof they would not be using today.  Pedro repeated his gentlemanly ritual of escorting her into the passenger’s seat.

“Such a humid day.  But now it feels cold from the rain.  Would you like some heat?” He asked politely as Herculea nodded emphatically, shi
vering in her wet cotton dress.

The man was as much an enigma as ever, and Herculea wasn’t sure if she could ever probe the depths of his heart.  The kind of arrogant hardness Pedro exuded came from severe heartbreak, Herculea knew too well herself.  She would be exceedingly cautious in her interactions with him, as she knew
instinctively
that opening her heart would lead him to shatter it.

But no one could be more useful in guiding her to the Silver Goddess.  She refused to get sidetracked from her goal of researching and writing a book that would transform her career.  With an acclaimed book under her belt, Herculea would be hired by any university she desired.  The possibilities were limitless, and Herculea was determined to succeed,
even if it meant spending her time in Brazil under Pedro’s influence.  Kent would understand; he was, after all, the consummate workaholic
.

The ride went on for what seemed like hours, and it was obvious to Herculea that they had left the confines of the city.  The panorama changed from high rise buildings and billboards to free roaming farm animals and flowering trees.  Pedro said little, glancing over at Herculea occasionally with a sensual smirk.  She coolly returned his gaze each time,
nervous about what
would transpire once they reached his home.