* * * * * * * * * *
Nikita took refuge at the opposite side of the bar, where she ordered another drink and sipped it slowly, relishing the music flowing through her body, lifting her spirits.
Once in a while she passed a curious glance in the direction of where she left her colleague. He appeared to be doing rather well, considering how Ginger was wrapped around him on the dance floor.Go Birky!
Tapping her foot rhythmically against the bar stool, Nikita felt all the stiffness of the muscles in her neck ease a little. What a rough week.
Following Simone Pham's trail from Venice to Morocco had been draining, both physically and emotionally.
Their clients were people who wouldn't or couldn't confide in the police for a resolution to their problems; therefore it was a rarity for the police solving certain types of disappearance cases. She suspected she wouldn't ever understand how an heiress as cultured and exceptionally beautiful as Simone could willingly get in such serious troubles, seeking the company of a delinquent nut cases such as Errol Sparks' genre. The young woman could have anything she could ever want, and yet. All her money could not save her from being seduced and held for months by a bunch of criminals. Not even the social prestige spared such a wealthy philanthropist as Helmut Volker from losing his one child to a pervert.
At least this time, she was able to help. The memory of the delicate face of Miss Pham, scarred with ugly violet bruises, her eyes filling with tears as her uncles hugged her, provided her with a sweet sense of comfort.
Her mother always sustained that beauty for a woman could be a curse as easily as it could be a blessing, especially if supported by brains too. Nikita would have believed her, if not for her experience in the psychology field, for the attractiveness of her fine features had survived the hardness of decades without losing their grace. Madeline Wolfe she was sure, would NEVER age.
The sudden awareness of being stared at by man not far from her breached her consciences, gratifying her only partially.
Given her absorbing work and her indefinable relationship with her partner, she had not the time or the energies to invest in any stable dating.
Last time Nikita had seriously dated someone was right after she had bid Egram goodbye, and Belinda and Walter shamelessly attempted to hook her up with their son. They had with out a doubt succeeded: She and Marco for what she could remember had been a wonderful couple. He made her see what she was missing in her previous affair treating her like a princess. They were similar and different enough to have fun together and set off fire works in the bedroom. Perhaps if his company had been less loving and pleasant, and if his family hadn't been so ready to " adopt" her she wouldn't have felt compelled to break it off with him.
She just wasn't ready for what he was offering her. God. he even served her breakfast in bed.
The dazed memory of Marco's smile and kisses hit her suddenly, forcing her to consider that she was very much alone. Although, her job and other pre- occupations had helped her hide the truth from herself.
Careful about not doing anything that could be interpreted as encouragement, Nikita pretended to casually cock her head to the side, giving a curious glance at the man looking at her.
What she saw left her pleasantly surprised; the guy in question was a tall fair-haired man. Handsome, not in the cleanly sensual way Michael was, but more like the classical "boy next door".
He looked almost out of place, as if he didn't know what he was doing here. But he looked at her as if her presence was enough of a reason to stay.
Or maybe it was her sexually and emotionally deprived imagination speaking.
Nikita saw him smile at her tentatively, noticing that she had unintentionally started to stare back at him.
She smiled at him in return, thinking that he had a nice smile; she hadn't flirted with anyone in ages.
He lowered his eyes and the next thing she knew, he was beside her.
" Hey"
The stranger saluted her, managing a sheepish grin that didn't quite hide the general impression of the uncertainty of his move.
Feeling a desire to provoke born out of her earlier irritation, Nikita glided her eyes up and down his lean figure, then paused on his seemingly embarrassed hazel eyes.
" Hey" Nikita replied trying to sound indifferent.
Rather than being discouraged by her approach, the stranger looked relieved, although not completely comfortable enough to grace her with a second step toward a friendly conversation.
" So.Do you think I could buy you a drink?"
He took a long breath, clearly aware of her amusement at his hesitant inquiry, because he laughed a hollow and short laugh and then added. " I'm sorry I bothered you. I swear I'm not a stalker or anything. I'm sorry.I guess I'm just really out of practice at this sort of thing".
For one second he looked like he was reluctantly going to go away.
It surprised Nikita that the idea of him leaving was disappointing for her.
"Okay" she suddenly said, once again surprising herself.
Her acquiescence stopped him, and he came back to her side, a little surprised himself at how his wish of having her stop him was suddenly realized.
"Okay" he repeated a little breathless, and then as if suddenly he had just remembered it. " By the way, I'm Gray Wellman".
Shaking his outstretched hand, Nikita replied with what she hoped was a dazzling smile:
" Nikita Wolfe".
* * * * * * * * *
Nikita took refuge at the opposite side of the bar, where she ordered another drink and sipped it slowly, relishing the music flowing through her body, lifting her spirits.
Once in a while she passed a curious glance in the direction of where she left her colleague. He appeared to be doing rather well, considering how Ginger was wrapped around him on the dance floor.Go Birky!
Tapping her foot rhythmically against the bar stool, Nikita felt all the stiffness of the muscles in her neck ease a little. What a rough week.
Following Simone Pham's trail from Venice to Morocco had been draining, both physically and emotionally.
Their clients were people who wouldn't or couldn't confide in the police for a resolution to their problems; therefore it was a rarity for the police solving certain types of disappearance cases. She suspected she wouldn't ever understand how an heiress as cultured and exceptionally beautiful as Simone could willingly get in such serious troubles, seeking the company of a delinquent nut cases such as Errol Sparks' genre. The young woman could have anything she could ever want, and yet. All her money could not save her from being seduced and held for months by a bunch of criminals. Not even the social prestige spared such a wealthy philanthropist as Helmut Volker from losing his one child to a pervert.
At least this time, she was able to help. The memory of the delicate face of Miss Pham, scarred with ugly violet bruises, her eyes filling with tears as her uncles hugged her, provided her with a sweet sense of comfort.
Her mother always sustained that beauty for a woman could be a curse as easily as it could be a blessing, especially if supported by brains too. Nikita would have believed her, if not for her experience in the psychology field, for the attractiveness of her fine features had survived the hardness of decades without losing their grace. Madeline Wolfe she was sure, would NEVER age.
The sudden awareness of being stared at by man not far from her breached her consciences, gratifying her only partially.
Given her absorbing work and her indefinable relationship with her partner, she had not the time or the energies to invest in any stable dating.
Last time Nikita had seriously dated someone was right after she had bid Egram goodbye, and Belinda and Walter shamelessly attempted to hook her up with their son. They had with out a doubt succeeded: She and Marco for what she could remember had been a wonderful couple. He made her see what she was missing in her previous affair treating her like a princess. They were similar and different enough to have fun together and set off fire works in the bedroom. Perhaps if his company had been less loving and pleasant, and if his family hadn't been so ready to " adopt" her she wouldn't have felt compelled to break it off with him.
She just wasn't ready for what he was offering her. God. he even served her breakfast in bed.
The dazed memory of Marco's smile and kisses hit her suddenly, forcing her to consider that she was very much alone. Although, her job and other pre- occupations had helped her hide the truth from herself.
Careful about not doing anything that could be interpreted as encouragement, Nikita pretended to casually cock her head to the side, giving a curious glance at the man looking at her.
What she saw left her pleasantly surprised; the guy in question was a tall fair-haired man. Handsome, not in the cleanly sensual way Michael was, but more like the classical "boy next door".
He looked almost out of place, as if he didn't know what he was doing here. But he looked at her as if her presence was enough of a reason to stay.
Or maybe it was her sexually and emotionally deprived imagination speaking.
Nikita saw him smile at her tentatively, noticing that she had unintentionally started to stare back at him.
She smiled at him in return, thinking that he had a nice smile; she hadn't flirted with anyone in ages.
He lowered his eyes and the next thing she knew, he was beside her.
" Hey"
The stranger saluted her, managing a sheepish grin that didn't quite hide the general impression of the uncertainty of his move.
Feeling a desire to provoke born out of her earlier irritation, Nikita glided her eyes up and down his lean figure, then paused on his seemingly embarrassed hazel eyes.
" Hey" Nikita replied trying to sound indifferent.
Rather than being discouraged by her approach, the stranger looked relieved, although not completely comfortable enough to grace her with a second step toward a friendly conversation.
" So.Do you think I could buy you a drink?"
He took a long breath, clearly aware of her amusement at his hesitant inquiry, because he laughed a hollow and short laugh and then added. " I'm sorry I bothered you. I swear I'm not a stalker or anything. I'm sorry.I guess I'm just really out of practice at this sort of thing".
For one second he looked like he was reluctantly going to go away.
It surprised Nikita that the idea of him leaving was disappointing for her.
"Okay" she suddenly said, once again surprising herself.
Her acquiescence stopped him, and he came back to her side, a little surprised himself at how his wish of having her stop him was suddenly realized.
"Okay" he repeated a little breathless, and then as if suddenly he had just remembered it. " By the way, I'm Gray Wellman".
Shaking his outstretched hand, Nikita replied with what she hoped was a dazzling smile:
" Nikita Wolfe".
* * * * * * * * *