* * * *
"Is this the place you were talking about, Eddie?” Vivian looked around, pleased at the atmosphere of the small café. While it was exactly the type of place she might have chosen, it surprised her slightly that it was the self-described favorite hang-out of this so-very-proper Chilean scholar. It seemed, by the décor and the flyers showing guests scheduled to appear on the small stage, far less conservative than she would have expected from her new acquaintance.
"Yes, Miss ... er, Vivian. The entertainment is rather progressive, but it is the only place I have found in this part of your country that knows how to make a proper Pisco Sour. And the food, although basic, is quite good. Ah, Lupe!"
Vivian was further surprised to see the polite reserve vanish as he enthusiastically greeted a Rubenesque, middle-aged woman, pulling her into a hug and soundly kissing her cheek. She had been playfully bumping into Eddie for blocks, amused and intrigued by the discomfort he showed at the casual contact. The challenge of breaking through that barrier had swiftly become a goal. Yet here he was being anything but restrained, although it was clearly affectionate rather than sexual.
"Eduardo, you must introduce me to your lovely young lady."
"Señora Guadalupe Fontecilla, may I present Miss Vivian..."
"Long, Vivian Long. My pleasure, Señora Fontecilla.” She chalked one up for Eddie. There was no doubt in her mind that the manner of the introduction was deliberately intended to discover her surname.
"No, no, Miss Long. The pleasure is mine. We have been trying for some time to get Eduardo here to pay attention to something beside la biblioteca.” The smile and the gleam in the matriarch's eyes told Vivian exactly what that something was. She hid her grin at the realization that she'd found an ally in her newfound mission to loosen up Señor Eduardo Rojas Aquilar.
Eddie broke into rapid-fire and heavily-accented Spanish, and despite her travels and study of the language, Vivian only made out every other word. The accent was not one she was accustomed to hearing, and the rapidity of the dialog had her lost in no time. She managed to understand an exchange in which Eddie denied a relationship between the two of them followed by Lupe's inquiry as to why not. The only other thing she caught was the order for food and drink at the end.
He stopped abruptly and turned toward her, aghast. “My apologies yet again. I completely forgot my manners. For better or worse, you seem to have that effect on me. I took the liberty of ordering refreshments for us. I hope you don't mind."
"Oh, it's for the better,” Lupe interjected, winking at her. “Trust me on this."
"That's not all you took the liberty of doing,” Vivian teased, referring to the rest of rest of the dialog but well aware of other interpretations. She continued slowly—in Spanish. “Lupe, we just met this afternoon. I am visiting from Birmingham, where I attended college and have lived since completing my degree. I am originally from Philadelphia."
Thoroughly enjoying the expression on Eddie's face, she returned Lupe's wink and excused herself to the powder room. When she emerged, she found Eddie waiting at a small, corner table. He rose as she approached and pulled out her chair.
"Vivian, you continue to surprise me. I simply had no idea you—"
"I what? Spoke Spanish? Had an education? What surprises you about either?” She took a deep breath to calm the defensiveness that lived so near the surface. Vivian resented society's tendency to require justification for being an independent, outspoken, single woman in her thirties.
Eddie looked stricken. “I have a feeling that if I begin to apologize again, you're going to smack me. However, at the risk of bodily injury, I am sorry if it seems I've made any assumptions about you. In truth, you are an anomaly, but one I find absolutely irresistible. I want to know more, and at every revelation, you become more intriguing."
"Flatterer,” Vivian sighed as she sat. “It's my turn to apologize. My family is constantly pressuring me to find a nice man and settle down to produce an heir to the Long empire. It makes me overly sensitive to any sort of observation that smells of judgment."
Eduardo began to wonder just who this enigmatic woman was. Everything about her was outside the norm, from her beauty to her brains to her bravado. She confused him at every turn, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he wanted her in his life. Their sexual chemistry was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It alone would have been enough to hold his attention, but coupled with her other magnetic qualities, the compulsion left him no alternative.
The waitress delivered their meals along with two glasses of ice and two chilled bottles of Coca Cola. Pulling a bottle opener from her apron, she deftly flipped off the caps and pocketed them before departing. Eduardo reached for Vivian's glass to pour for her, but she waved his hand away and picked up the bottle. He smiled at this further difference between her and the women of his homeland while he poured his own soft drink over ice.
"Empire?"
"Oh, I'm not wayward royalty, if that's what you're wondering.” Vivian took a sip of the soft drink and smiled appreciatively, leaning back in her chair and extending her legs beneath the table. They brushed his pant leg, and he cursed himself for reflexively moving out of the way. The extreme courtesy, drummed into his behavior by a family obsessed with near-ritualistic formalities, was interfering with his compulsion to get much, much closer to Señorita Long. “Does your family not place expectations on you?” she continued as if able to read his mind.
Manners notwithstanding, Eduardo nearly sprayed his mouthful of cola across the table. The effort to prevent showering Vivian with the beverage resulted in a prolonged fit of coughing. As he struggled to regain control of his respiratory system, he decided to throw caution to the wind. Of course, the tent in his trousers influenced the decision. The fact that his attic brain agreed with its basement counterpart only served to reinforce it.
"Oh, do they ever! Part of the reason I'm studying abroad,” he admitted with uncharacteristic candor, “is to create some distance between my personal goals and familial expectations. Archaeology is far from a respected profession in a family full of surgeons and priests. And the women? Well, they are all obedient wives and mothers, of course. They would just love you.” He added the last with a wry smile and a wink.
The deliberate relaxation in Eddie's formal façade had a profound impact on Vivian. She recognized the effort of will required—albeit combined with the arousal he was trying so valiantly to hide—to step outside his normal boundaries, and it was such a turn on.
"Do they already have a more acceptable future selected for you?” she asked, thinking about her own family's not-so-subtle attempts to push her at any eligible bachelor who they deemed worthy of producing a Long heiress.
"Several, if my mother had her way. However, I have proven resistant to certain traditions. I have stubbornly thwarted efforts to arrange a marriage for several reasons, not the least of which is that I would then be expected to settle down, provide for my wife, and dote on my children. Please, do not misunderstand.” Eddie fidgeted as he spoke—straightening his tie, picking a piece of lint from his sleeve, smoothing his hair—and Vivian tried to decide if it was the subject matter or the company causing his discomfiture. “I adore children and do wish to be a father someday. But I am not ready to tie myself to a desk in the city. Field work is in my blood, and I suspect it will be for quite some time. Also, I have ... well, never mind that. Tell me more about your sensitivities?"
Vivian noted the brief coloring of his cheeks and decided to pursue the meaning later. “I'd much rather hear about your field work. I'll admit to a growing fascination with antiquities, and I travel as often as possible to explore different cultures. My wanderlust drives my family bananas. They consider it a perversion, which is quite laughable under the circumstances. But their reactions are merely a fringe benefit. Have you been to China? I want to go to someday."
The mention of interest in the Far East raised Eduardo's opinion of Vivian Long from admiration to i
nfatuation. When coupled with a lust that rivaled his adolescent obsession about what lie beneath Sister Anna Mary Bernadice's habit, he knew he was in serious trouble. He also knew he would do absolutely nothing to extricate himself from the delicious predicament. Captivated, he was—and captivated he wanted to remain.
Uncrossing his legs to relieve some of the pressure in his groin, they again came into contact with Vivian's. He could've sworn she purred. The overt sexuality was as arousing as it was intimidating, and nothing in his experience prepared him for it. The women to whom he'd been exposed simply did not behave in such a brash manner. He could hear his abuela, may she rest in peace, as if she were sitting on his shoulder whispering Puta! in his ear.
"We share a dream, then. I too wish to visit the region. The Tian Shan, in particular. There are legends...” He trailed off, lost for a moment in thought.
"Legends?"
"Yes ... intriguing stories and yet..."
Vivian watched as his cheeks colored again, deeper this time. His fidgeting, which she had thought already pronounced, increased. That, of course, warranted further exploration of the topic. “What kind of stories, Eddie?
"You'll please forgive me, Vivian. The stories I have heard are not the kind I expect to be discussing with a member of the fairer sex. There has been a discovery of a cache of antiquities. They are said to have certain ... properties that I have, until now, deemed fictional. Things I've only heard about in stories from a different, distant part of the world. My part. You seem quite educated. Are you familiar with the history of Chile and Peru? Of the Incas?"
"I know a little. They were a largely overlooked civilization. The discovery of that lost city by Bingham fifty years ago helped, but most people only know the story of Pizarro."
"Pizarro was a butcher. I'm sorry, but the perspective is different for one raised in Chile. The Incas are to me as perhaps Rome is to you. A basis of my culture. And, like Rome, the people were not intimidated by certain ... realities of life. The reports I am hearing out of China are similar."
Vivian leaned forward. Her foot rubbed against Eduardo's leg as she did so, and he tried to force himself to ignore the effect it had on him. That proved futile, especially when he was thinking about the rumored discovery in China and how it matched the stories whispered around secondary school tables. Those stories, if true, promised things even more intriguing than what lay under a nun's habit.
"How are they similar?"
Eduardo cleared his throat. “There are things said to affect men in general as you are currently affecting me."
Even as he said the words, they shocked him. They were far more forward than he believed himself capable of speaking. That, however, was before he had collided with a beautiful and fascinating woman while simply trying to make his way through a crowd. Serendipity had never smiled on him in such a powerful way.
"Vivian, I know we became acquainted mere hours ago, but you ... captivate me. I will not make apologies again, but I do hope I haven't offended you. There are precious few people with whom I can discuss these matters, for my academic mentors dismiss the studies as frivolous, and my contemporaries tend to lapse into adolescent snickering at the mere mention of anything related to our natural, primal urges. I sense in you the potential for candid discussion that, while undoubtedly titillating, is still taken seriously."
Vivian licked her lips, a hungry huntress scenting the potential for a mate. No man had ever spoken to her as an intellectual equal, even during her studies. In college, she learned that even ivory towers had glass ceilings. As one of only two women in her degree program, she found herself expected to bring refreshments—food for the body rather than for the mind—to study sessions. The one professor who recognized in her a talent for inductive reasoning still encouraged her to apply herself to a more feminine pursuit, like nursing.
As a result, Eddie's rapidly growing esteem for her stoked her libido. The day's events—being amidst thousands of people so passionate about a cause—fueled passions of a different nature. She wondered if her new beau could overcome his cultural conditioning quickly enough to suit her immediate needs. The powerful compulsion to get much, much closer to Señor Eduardo Rojas Aguilar made Vivian wonder if some forces other than, or in addition to, mere physical chemistry were at work.
Vivian slipped off her pumps. “I think you'll find it difficult to offend those sensibilities,” she teased, adding emphasis by dragging the top of her stockinged foot up his calf. “The environment in which I was raised provided frequent discussion of natural, primal urges. In fact, the Long ‘empire'—so to speak—was built upon them. I daresay you cannot shock me, even with coarser language spoken in either the heat of debate or the heat of..."
Vivian stopped the progression just above Eddie's knee. His thigh muscles tensed, lightly trapping her foot between them, and she could've sworn he groaned under his breath. The expression on his face spoke of intense internal conflict, multilayered desire warring with propriety. When he brought his knees together, capturing her foot intentionally, she knew which force won that particular battle.
No going back now, he thought, slipping a hand beneath the table to stroke the sole of Vivian's foot. “In that case,” he continued, throwing caution to the winds, “I will share that the artifacts recently discovered in China appear to function as sexual aids. Some allegedly have attributes that make them powerful aphrodisiacs. Yet others serve to satisfy various ... perversions, for lack of a better word."
He found it difficult to focus on Chinese antiquities with just a whisper-thin layer of silk separating his fingers from Vivian's flesh. Her skin called to him, and he ached to touch it without the encumbrance of clothing.
The thought of her bare flesh against his caused the earlier thickening below his waist to intensify to the point where he worried about it being noticeable. He felt the fabric give way before his hardening cock and nervously glanced over to see whether Lupe or any of her staff was looking in his direction.
As his head turned and his knees loosened their hold on Vivian, her foot slipped up to his thigh. Startled, and worried that she would discover his embarrassing condition, he spun back toward her, quite forgetting the drink on the table next to his hand.
In the crawl of time that results from panic, he watched as the ice and cola arced through the air. A slow, dark rain fell upon the solid red of the tablecloth. For a fleeting moment, he relaxed, thinking it would stop the liquid, but he had underestimated the force of his startled blow.
The remaining soda landed on the yellow of her dress, a wide line of wet color running from her shoulder across her breast and into her lap. She looked down, and Eduardo rose to apologize, certain that he had spoiled the mood with his awkward response.
For the second time in moments, she startled him, the clear peal of her laughter announcing the smile on her face before she raised her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Eddie. I didn't mean to make you jump like that and..."
Her voice trailed off and her smile widened. Eduardo suddenly remembered the state he had been afraid her encroaching foot would discover. He felt his face flush as he glanced back at his chair, torn between a desire to hide his condition and the requirements of a gentleman.
His inherent gallantry won out. He shrugged off the impulse to retreat and knelt beside her, dabbing at the wet spots on her shoulder with his napkin. He tried not to stare at the place where the soda had caused the sundress to hug her breast. She laughed again, gently, and her fingertips brushed his cheek.
Vivian used her nails to direct Eddie's gaze upward. His face was bright red with embarrassment. She wondered whether he was more upset at the spill or that his springing to her aid had revealed his arousal. She decided it was a combination of both, and came to an instant decision about how to tip the balance in the direction she desired.
"There's not much on my shoulder, Eddie. Here is where I need you to dry me off."
She took his hand and moved it to the spot he was so obvio
usly trying to avoid with his eyes. Eddie tried to pull away as his fingers brushed against her hard nipple, but she held him there, forcing him to choose between risking her displeasure or overcoming his sense of propriety.
His gaze found hers, and she saw the lust in his eyes. It was clear what he wanted and just as clear that he would not allow himself to openly admit to it. She peeled the napkin from his hand, continuing to dry her dress and watching with amusement as he struggled to keep his eyes on her face.
"Oh, my. Did you need a towel, my dear? Just let me get one."
Eddie sprang to his feet, turning to face Lupe. Vivian stifled the giggle, realizing that as desperate as he was to hide his hard-on, he was more desperate to avoid Lupe catching him with his hand or eyes upon her breast. While Eddie stammered through an explanation of the spilled cola, she stood. Brushing away the remaining beads of liquid and letting an ice cube clatter to the floor, she looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with Lupe.
As he inquired about nearby shops where he could purchase a blouse or a light dress to replace the one he'd soaked and stained, Vivian winked at her. Lupe gave a knowing grin before cutting Eddie off in mid-apology about the mess.
"I'm sorry, mi amigo. Such shops in Georgetown close at five—six at the latest. It is already half past seven. Why don't you simply loan her your jacket until her dress dries? Of course, she will need a place to wash the sugar off before it gets too sticky. In this weather, it will attract bees."
Vivian mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her and placed her hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"Didn't you say your apartment was quite near?"
The question sent Eduardo's thoughts racing in several directions at once, resulting in a complete inability to provide a coherent response. In his world, gorgeous, intelligent women simply did not invite themselves to a bachelor's apartment. His senses had to be deceiving him. There was no other logical explanation. He tried to wrap his mind around it.
Coming Together: At Last, Volume One Page 2