“Your friend in Florida?”
“Lived in Florida. Last summer, she inherited her grandmother’s home in the French Quarter of New Orleans and decided to move in.” She met Maggie, a Doctors without Borders nurse, in Africa. Maggie now worked most of the year in Haiti. Though they weren’t related, she and Maggie looked like sisters, almost twins. Same long golden blonde curly locks and slim build. Maggie had blue eyes, though, while Rachel had amber eyes. During a need for a doctor, many had grabbed Maggie thinking she was Dr. Becker.
His mood lightened and he chuckled. “If you don’t mind noise.”
“She lives in a quieter section of the quarter, but to be honest, I think it sounds like fun.” Having survived Ebola gave her a new perspective on enjoying life more. “Until I decide what to do.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Yeah, right?” And out of your hair. Give him the distance he needed to return to whatever world he hid in. If she just told him she planned a one-way trip to Mars, he’d probably do a happy dance.
“Naturally, you can stay here while I look for a tenant.”
“I’m leaving at the end of the week.” If that was too soon for Maggie, she’d book a hotel. So much for the childhood fantasy of getting to know her biological father. Her pipe dream crashed and burned. She’d even imagined them opening a clinic together. Perhaps even meeting Howard’s friend Lev again. Not happening, ever.
Lev sat at the bar of the London hotel where he drank a second shot of vodka and watched BBC News on the big screen. The aroma of expensive Parisian perfume caught his attention. He turned. A gorgeous brunette in a red silk strapless dress showcasing ample cleavage waltzed in, her stilettos clicking some sexual timer.
Attractive women always drew his full attention, but since meeting Rachel, she was all he’d ever thought about. Was it her blood? He had not sampled it, but being a mutant, it was as though he had. The memory surged through every cell of his body. Despite the fact, he considered Rachel his, he would never see her again.
He returned listening to the news about a recent bombing in a market in Iraq.
The sexy woman sat next to him. “Anything interesting going on in the world?” Her voice dripped with honeyed seduction.
Lev smiled. “Nothing as interesting as you.” About time he got back in the game. He didn’t need alpha werewolf mind tricks to get women. They were drawn to the dangerous predator, happy to offer their flesh as a ready meal.
“Ooh, is that a Russian accent?”
He could ask her if she spoke Russian, but why bother? After good sex, he’d return to Rylee’s Team Greywolf pack and never see this woman again. “Yes. I’m Lev.”
She signaled the bartender. “Would you like a Black Russian, love?”
“I’ll take another vodka.”
The bartender came over. “What will it be?”
“One Black Russian and a vodka.” The bartender nodded and left. She turned to Lev. “My name is Monique. I came in from the rain for a drink.”
A lie. The woman was a high class call girl. Why not? She would take his mind off Rachel. At least for the night.
The bartender brought their drinks. She lifted her glass. “To getting to know each other.”
Just as they clinked their glasses, Lev’s phone vibrated. He could ignore it. Always had when he made his move for the night. This time, he picked it up and saw the caller. His pulse quickened. Dr. Becker. He laid down a couple hundred pounds. “I’m sorry, Monique. There is business I must attend to.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
He gave her enough to cover the entire night of her services. “Go home.”
She took it and quickly stashed it and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Lev took the elevator to his suite. Why was Becker calling him? Had something happened to Rachel? He entered his room, shut the door and redialed.
“You called.”
“Where are you?”
“In London.”
“Before that?”