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Insatiable

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Insatiable: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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want you to know you can call me. I’ll come get you, wherever you are. Day or night. And

listen…,” she added. “Don’t show this card to your boyfriend. This is a secret card. For

emergencies. Between girlfriends. Do you understand?”

Yalena just gazed at her, smiling happily.

She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand at all that Meena’s number might literally

mean the difference between life and death for her.

They never understood.

The train pulled up to Forty-second Street station. Yalena jumped up.

“Grand Central?” she asked, looking panicky.

“Yes,” Meena said. “This is Grand Central.”

“I meet my boyfriend here,” Yalena said excitedly, grabbing her huge roller bag and

giving it a yank. She took Meena’s card in her other hand, beaming. “Thank you! I call.”

She meant she’d call to get together for coffee sometime.

But Meena knew Yalena would call her for something totally different. If she didn’t lose

the card…or if Gerald didn’t find it and take it away. Then give her a fist sandwich.

“Remember,” Meena repeated, following her off the train. “Don’t tell your boyfriend

you have that. Hide it somewhere.”

“I do,” Yalena said, and scrambled toward the nearest flight of stairs, lugging her

suitcase behind her. It was so huge, and Yalena was so small, she could barely drag it. Meena,

giving in to the inevitable, picked up the bottom of the girl’s incredibly heavy suitcase and

helped her carry it up the steep and crowded staircase. Then she pointed Yalena in the

direction the girl needed to go—the boyfriend was meeting her “under the clock” in the “big

station.”

Then, with a sigh, Meena turned around and headed for a train back uptown, so she

could get to Madison and Fifty-third Street, where her office building was located.

Meena knew Yalena hadn’t understood a word she’d said. Well, maybe one in five.

And even if she had, there wouldn’t have been any point in telling the girl the truth. She

wouldn’t have believed Meena, anyway.

Just like there was no point in following her now, seeing the boyfriend for herself, and

then saying something to him like, “I know what you really are and what you do for a living.

And I’m going to call the police.”

Because you can’t call the cops on someone for something they’re going to do. Any

more than you can tell someone that they’re going to die.

Meena had learned this the hard way.

She sighed again. She was going to have to run now if she wanted to catch the next train

uptown….

She just prayed there wouldn’t be too many people on it.

Chapter Three

6:00 P.M. EET, Tuesday, April 13

History Department

University of Bucharest

Bucharest, Romania

Professor?”

Lucien Antonescu smiled up at her from the enormous antique desk behind which he sat,

grading papers. “Yes?”

“So is it true,” Natalia asked, grasping at the first question she could think of, since she’d

completely forgotten what she’d meant to ask him the moment his dark-eyed gaze fell upon

her, “that the oldest human remains ever found were discovered in Romania?”

Oh, no! Human remains? How disgusting! How could she ask something so stupid?

“The oldest human remains found in Europe, ” Professor Antonescu said, correcting her

gently. “The oldest human remains ever found were discovered in Ethiopia. And they’re

roughly a hundred and fifty thousand years older than the remains found in what we consider

modern-day Romania, in the Cave with Bones.”

The girl was only half listening. He was the sexiest of all her instructors, and that

included teaching assistants. On the University of Bucharest’s equivalent of Rateyourprof.com,

Professor Lucien Antonescu had been given all 10s in the looks category.

And justifiably so, since he was over six feet tall, lean and broad shouldered, with thick

dark hair that he wore brushed back from his temples and a smooth, gorgeous forehead.

As if all that weren’t enough, he had dark brown eyes that, in certain lights, when he was

lecturing and grew excited about his subject matter—which happened frequently, because he

was impassioned about Eastern European history—flashed red.

Surely the posts on the message boards were exaggerated…especially the ones hinting

that he was related to the Romanian royal family and was a duke or a prince or something.

But since taking Professor Antonescu’s class, Natalia could see why he—and his

course—was so popular. And why the line of girls—and some boys, though when he showed

pictures of ancient Romanian art, Professor Antonescu spoke so appreciatively of the lush lines

of the female form that there was no possible way he could be gay—at his office hours was so

long. He was a gifted orator, with a regal yet very engaging presence….

And he was so very, very hot.

Фото

“So,” Natalia said hesitantly, taking in the way his perfectly tailored black cashmere

blazer molded those shoulders. She wondered why she couldn’t see his eyes—those dark,

flashing eyes—better and realized it was because he had the shades to his office windows

pulled down. She hoped he’d still notice that she’d worn a new shirt, one that showed off her

cleavage to its best advantage. She’d bought it at a steep discount at H&M, but it still made her

look irresistible. “It would be correct to say that Romania is the cradle of civilization in

Europe.”

This, Natalia thought, sounded very intelligent.

“It would be a lovely idea, of course,” Professor Antonescu said, looking thoughtful.

“Certainly there have been human beings living here for over two millennia, and this land has

been the site of many bloody invasions, from the Romans to the Huns, until finally we had

what today makes up modern-day Romania…Moldavia and Wallachia, and of course

Transylvania. But the cradle of civilization…I don’t know that we can say that.” He was even

better looking when he smiled, if such a thing were possible.

“Professor.”

The smile caused her to come undone. She knew she was not the first. His bachelor

status was legendary, the intrigue heightening whenever he was spotted with a woman—never

the same one twice—in the posher restaurants downtown. How many had he asked back to his

castle—he owned a castle!—outside of Sighi oara, or to his enormous loft apartment in the

trendiest district of Bucharest?

No one knew. Maybe hundreds. Maybe none. He didn’t seem to care to marry and start a

family.

Well, all that would change when he tasted her cooking. Iliana, behind her in line to see

him just now, had teased her for saying she was going to invite him over. So old-fashioned!

She said Natalia should just offer to sleep with him right there, in his office, like Iliana was

going to, and get it over with.

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