Fury's Goddess. Alex Archer
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All right? This is an important function, judging by what Pradesh is telling us. And if things go well, we’ll be able to work here without hassle. But if things don’t go well, then we’ll face all sorts of complications, which I’m not a big fan of. So remember that every time you speak tonight. What you say will have a direct impact on your future. Trust me.”
“Okay, Annja.” Frank sighed. “I get it.”
Pradesh pointed ahead of the car. “You see that building?”
“You mean the tower with the lights?”
“That is Dunraj’s corporate headquarters. From there, he oversees his rather extensive empire of business interests.”
“That building must have cost him a fortune,” Annja said. “You weren’t joking about his personal wealth, huh?”
Pradesh nodded. “At the time, it was the most expensive building construction project in all of Hyderabad. Something along the lines of what you might see in Dubai, I’d imagine.” He shrugged. “But Dunraj was determined to see it built and ended up sinking massive amounts of his own money in to fund it and make sure he finished by the deadline he’d set.”
“It’s quite a nice design,” Annja said. She hoped Pradesh didn’t take her next question the wrong way, but she wanted to get a handle on her unexpected benefactor. “Is this Dunraj guy married?”
“He is Hyderabad’s most eligible bachelor. No woman in the city has attracted him enough to settle down yet. Although they all try. My, do they try. And since he is, as I said, the last of his family, I believe the pressure is on him to settle produce an heir.”
“Interesting.” Annja suddenly felt exposed in the dress.
Pradesh pulled the Mercedes into the outer parking area and stopped before the guard shack. He flashed his credentials and the car was waved through. Carefully manicured orange trees framed the road.
“Does he make his own orange juice, too?” Annja asked absently. She wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had his own orange-juice label. He seemed to have a lot of projects under way.
Pradesh smiled. “There is very little that Dunraj is not able to do. I have no doubt if he thought orange juice was worth his time he would capture the majority market share in the city. And from there, the rest of the country.”
Annja glanced back over the seat at Frank. “Are you all right back there?”
“Yeah.”
Pradesh slowed the car. “We’re here.”
Annja took one final glance at Frank. “All right, penguin boy, let’s see how smooth you can be when the stakes are high.”
And then she got out and followed Pradesh into the building.
Chapter 4
They took an elevator with padded leather walls up to the penthouse office suite where the doors glided back to reveal an incredible party already well under way. “And here I thought we’d be early,” Annja said quietly. To her relief, the attire at the party seemed predominantly Western.
And she wasn’t the only one wearing a slinky black dress and heels.
But the once-overs and glares started almost immediately. Annja rolled her eyes. All she wanted to do was get out to the development and see the crime scenes.
Now she had to play nice. Or at least she had to convince the gold diggers that she wasn’t here to hook Dunraj.
Frank, at her side, whispered, “You can almost smell the money in this room. It’s tangible, for crying out loud.”
Pradesh seemed remarkably at ease with the environment. He might not have come from money, but he wasn’t out of his depth here, either.
A waiter came by carrying a silver tray with glasses of champagne. Pradesh helped himself to two and gave one to Annja.
Annja sipped the bubbly. It must have cost roughly a thousand dollars a bottle, judging by its flavor. Frank grabbed one for himself, and Annja was relieved when he didn’t knock the tray over.
A DJ was set up in one corner of the cavernous reception area. A few lights were flashing in time to the lounge music. But the volume wasn’t so high that Annja had to raise her voice to be heard. A few guests closer to the DJ swayed back and forth to the beat.
Others were helping themselves to small plates of appetizers set out on a grand wooden conference table. There was food from a number of cultures. Fresh sashimi, Indian specialties, a carving station and much more. Without a doubt, this party had cost a fortune.
Then Annja spotted him. She’d had no idea what Dunraj looked like before they’d arrived, but as soon as she laid eyes on the man, working the room as effortlessly as a politician, she knew it had to be him.
Dunraj looked to be about forty-eight years old. His hair was a little long, swept back in frosted waves off his face. His tanned skin was smooth, and judging by the cut of his tuxedo, he must work out quite a bit. But he wasn’t flexing his guns to impress anyone. His understated manner said enough.
She glanced over at Frank. There was no way the kid measured up. He looked as if he’d been wrestled into a straitjacket and then sent out to dance in public.
Painful for him and painful to have to watch.
Dunraj seemed to be working his way across the room. With each person he met, he would either shake their hand or give them a peck on the cheek. Annja could sense the waves of charisma rolling off him.
No wonder the women here are going bonkers, she thought. He’s an incredible specimen.
Pradesh was at her ear. “He’s coming to see you. Try not to gawk.”
Annja shot him a look. “I don’t gawk. Ever.”
But Pradesh only smiled. “That’s what they all say, Annja. You haven’t yet met the man. I’d reserve judgment.”
Annja sipped her champagne and watched Dunraj continue his arc toward where they stood. If he was trying to get to Annja, she would never have guessed it. Dunraj took his time. He never appeared hurried or impatient. It was as if he knew the world would only be too happy to wait for him.
But eventually, he seemed to materialize out of the crowd directly in front of her. His smile was the first thing she noticed. It gleamed. Annja blinked and she would have sworn that time slowed down. Like in the movies.
She blinked again. Get a grip. You don’t go faint at the sight of men, not even one as obviously evolutionarily superior as this.
“You must be Annja.”
Annja allowed him to sweep her hand up and then she felt his lips barely brush the back of her hand. His eyes bore into hers. The effect was potent and Annja had to take a quick breath before she could respond.
“I am,” Annja said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded. “You must be Dunraj.”
“I hope you’ll forgive me for throwing this welcome party for you and your colleague here.” He turned and shook hands with Frank. “You must be Frank. Very glad to meet you.”
“Hi.” Frank pumped Dunraj’s hand a little too hard. But at least he didn’t say anything embarrassing.
Not yet.
Dunraj refocused on Annja. “I understand you’ve come to our wonderful city to investigate the horrible deaths that we seem to be plagued with.”
“I’m not investigating it yet. I’m here at this party. But yes, that’s the purpose of our visit.”
“No time for pleasure, then?”
“How do you mean?”
“We have some incredible tourist attractions here.