Fury's Goddess. Alex Archer

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Fury's Goddess - Alex Archer


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One moment, he’d been in his reception area, and the next, he was gone.

       Pradesh had also disappeared. What was going on here? Annja turned and saw what looked to be Frank giving his telephone number. She sighed and pushed back into the women around him. “All right, Frank, let’s get going. Come on, now.”

       “Now?” He frowned. “But I’m starting to enjoy myself. There are an awful lot of very nice young women here.”

       “Which is exactly why I want to get the hell out of here before your libido turns this welcome party into an orgy.”

       “Would that be so terrible?” Frank pleaded.

       Annja grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the crowd. They eventually got a second to catch their breath near the entry door close to the elevator they’d rode up on.

       Frank brushed himself off. “The ladies here are so forthcoming with their intimate details. Imagine.”

       “I don’t even want to know what that means,” she said. “Can we get out of here now?”

       Frank looked longingly back toward the party. “Yeah, I guess. We going to the hotel?”

       “I’d like to, yes. I’m exhausted. I need serious sleep if we’re going to start first thing tomorrow morning.”

       “Can we call a taxi? I don’t see Pradesh anywhere.”

       Annja nodded. “Me, neither. And I don’t like it when our host and our minder both disappear within seconds of each other. That strikes me as sort of weird.”

       Frank eyed her. “You’re not going to go all ‘conspiracy theory’ on me now, are you?” He pushed the elevator call button, and seconds later the doors slid back. Annja and Frank stepped inside, and the car descended toward the ground.

       “My father had a real thing for Indian women,” Frank reminisced. “I remember one time when we were Christmas shopping and there was this woman in the music store. My father was totally captivated. I get it now.”

       “Well, good,” Annja said. “Now you two can compare notes when you get home. Nice.”

       Frank sighed. “Nah, he died about ten years back. We were just getting to be really good friends when he had a heart attack.”

       Annja felt badly for Frank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

       “Yeah, don’t worry about it. It just bums me out sometimes when I think about him being gone. We could have had some fun times together.”

       She put a hand on his arm. “If it helps, I’m sure he’d be very proud of what you’ve accomplished in your life. Your professional life, I mean. That stunt on the airplane—” she grinned “—probably not so much.”

       The elevator doors opened and they were back in the lobby. They headed for the main desk. Annja was about to beckon the security guard to call them a taxi when Frank stopped her.

       “Hey, there’s Pradesh.”

       And sure enough, the policeman came striding across the lobby. “I was wondering when you’d make your escape.”

       Annja studied him suspiciously. “Where’d you disappear to?”

       Pradesh cocked an eyebrow. “Why, down here, of course. Once Dunraj made his introduction of you and Frank, I decided it might be a good idea to have the car waiting. Neither of you strike me as being fond of mobs of ardent admirers. Well, perhaps Frank…” He smiled as he said it and even Annja had to grin.

       “You could have told us.”

       “Now, where would the fun be in that? I imagined you making a grand exit, throwing people aside while Frank led the way to the elevator. Was I close?”

       “Not even remotely,” Annja said. “Aside from us taking the elevator down here again.”

       “Ah, well, my powers of perception aren’t in the psychic realm. I apologize if I caused you any distress.” He offered Annja his arm.

       “No distress,” she said, taking the arm to be polite. “We were going to grab a taxi back to the hotel.”

       “No need. I have the Mercedes waiting.”

       The Hyderabad night was balmy but with enough of a breeze to make it pleasant. Pradesh kept the windows down, and as they drove away from Dunraj’s office park, Annja caught the scent of the trees on the breeze and suddenly felt very tired. The trip over had been a long one.

       Pradesh, for his part, seemed energized. “How about a bite to eat?”

       “I’m starving,” Frank chimed in from the backseat. “I didn’t see very much to eat at the party.”

       “That’s because you were too busy concentrating on the women,” she said. “There was an entire conference table laid out with food.”

       Pradesh chuckled. “Frank, I rather doubt any of those women would be as appealing as you think they are.”

       “Why?” Frank asked. “They seemed, uh, ready, willing and able to me.”

       “No doubt they are all that.”

       “But?”

       “Well, it’s just that they’re also all…” He seemed to be searching for the right term. “Gold diggers, isn’t that what you call them?”

       Annja nodded.

       “Yes. Dunraj enjoys knowing they would fight to the death if he asked them to. And they would. I have broken up one or two fights at his parties when some of the women got territorial. They don’t take kindly to strangers coming into their feeding grounds, as it were.”

       “I’m glad we got out of there when we did.”

       Pradesh looked at Annja. “I know you’re tired—”

       “I’m not.”

       Pradesh held up his hand. “I can see it on your face. But I know a nice little place where the food is excellent. It would be an honor to take you both there. We could relax and talk.”

       “Any chance I can get changed first?” Frank asked.

       “What about you? Would you prefer to change?”

       Annja shrugged. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to get into some more comfortable clothes. These heels are killing me. I miss my boots.”

       “Very well. We can swing by your hotel and then go from there.”

       They got back within ten minutes thanks to the way Pradesh maneuvered through the traffic. He leaned against the Mercedes in the roundabout outside the hotel’s entrance. “I’ll be here.”

       Annja was dressed and back down in five minutes. Frank showed up two minutes later looking significantly more relaxed than he had been earlier. He wore jeans and a loose button-down shirt. Annja was relieved he hadn’t opted for some obnoxious T-shirt.

       Pradesh had also changed out of his suit. “Did you strip right out here in public?” Annja asked.

       He laughed. “I carry a change of clothes at all times. It enables me to react to all situations.”

       “Good plan,” Annja said as they got into the car. “So, where are we going?”

       “A family restaurant. I don’t know where you may have traveled before, Annja, but the smallest, least-known restaurants are sometimes the best. It’s no different here in Hyderabad. If you’ll trust me to guide you, I think you will agree the meal is something spectacular.”

       “Sounds good to me.”

       Pradesh glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is that all right, Frank?”

       “Sure, I’m starving.”

       “You


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