Synopsis
Excerpt: ...window and walked to the bar. Time to crack open the Sauza Tres Generaciones, Tequila Anejo-Mexico's well-aged contribution to the well-being of all humankind. Hard enough to come by anywhere, it was virtually unobtainable here in London, but his search had succeeded. He lifted it out of its tan box, admiring the coal black bottle, then gave the cork a twist and sniffed the fragrance, fresh as nectar, before settling it back on the bar. Next he removed a bottle of rare Stolichnaya Starka vodka from the freezer and stationed it beside the Sauza. This, he knew, was Eva's favorite, made with water from the Niva River and flavored with pear leaves and Crimean apples as well as a touch of brandy and a dash of port. A few moments later he heard a light knock on the door, and with a feeling of relief he stepped over. "Michael," the voice was a muted whisper, "hurry." He swung it inward and there she was. Without a word she moved into his arms. "Are you okay?" He touched her face, then lifted her lips to his. They were cold, tight. "Yes. I . . . I think so. God, what a day. I kept wanting to call you, darling." "I was out." "I assumed that. I can't wait to show you my translation." "Hey, slow down." He kissed her again. "Let's have a celebration drink first. Just you and me." "Michael, don't talk nonsense. We've got to think." "I got a bottle of your native wine, a little Tequila Anejo for me. Never hurt the mental processes. Come on, what do you say?" He turned and headed for the bar. She was unzipping the vinyl flight bag. "How can you . . .?" Then she caught herself and laughed. "It better be frozen, Like ice-cold syrup." "Cold as Siberia. It should go down well with the latest news item. We've now got a deal on the table with Tokyo." "What kind of deal?" She glanced over. "I told them if they'll call off the...
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
