A Dangerous Game (22 page)

Primavera would mean she had less time to spend at El Inviemo, where

she knew she was really needed.

The next morning, when she went into Peter's office before making her

rounds, she was startled to see a tall, slim woman with sleek, blonde

hair pulled back into a plaited knot sitting in front of Peter's

computer.

"Dr.
 
Muldaire?"
 
The woman's voice was seductively deep.
 
I'm

delighted to meet you."
 
She had a slight accent that Jacey couldn't

quite place.

"Perhaps you can help me?
 
Some of the patients listed here have OH

next to them.
 
What does that mean?"

Jacey hated being caught unawares.

"Where's Dr.
 
Draven?"
 
she asked abruptly, not bothering to conceal

her annoyance.

The woman looked surprised.

"He's gone to England.
 
I thought you knew that."

"I was expecting him back by now," Jacey said untruthfully.

"But he's not coming back," the woman said.

"He has resigned.
 
Dr.
 
Sanchez was not pleased, I understand.
 
I am

his replacement, Ingrid Gustaffsen."
 
She looked suddenly concerned.

"They didn't tell you?

Really, they are so inefficient.
 
But typical of this country, don't

you think?
 
Manana, always manana.
 
But tomorrow never comes."
 
She

stood up and held out her hand.
 
Jacey noted that she wore a very short

skirt, and had long, slim legs.

"I hope we are going to be friends, Dr.
 
Muldaire."

"I'm sure we will be," Jacey said, coolly polite.

Ingrids's smile did not waver.

"If I'm to take over Dr.
 
Draven's rounds, perhaps you can give me some

details about his patients?
 
I can see that many of them are not

seriously ill.
 
But what is this OH?"

"None of the patients here are seriously ill," Jacey said.

"And OH means On Holiday."

Ingrid frowned.

"But they are still here.
 
Are they planning to leave?"

"It was Peter's way of indicating that there was nothing wrong with

them at all," Jacey explained.

"They've come in to get away from their wives and enjoy the company of

their girlfriends.
 
Or boyfriends."

She smiled briefly.

"La Primavera is basically a hotel.
 
If you're hoping to get a lot of

clinical experience, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

Ingrid shook her head cheerfully.

"Oh, I'm not looking for clinical experience.
 
I went from my training

hospital in Sweden to the States for five years.
 
Good pay, but hard

work.
 
So I needed a rest."
 
She lowered her voice conspiratorially.

"I'm looking for a different kind of experience here.
 
Do you

understand me?"

"I'm afraid not," Jacey said frostily.

"Oh, you English!"
 
Ingrid walked round the desk to confront Jacey.

"Of course you know what I mean.
 
You're fucking that horny guy,

Schlemann, aren't you?"
 
She leant forward and tapped a beautifully

manicured finger against Jacey's chest.

"Don't deny it.
 
I wouldn't mind doing it myself.
 
Long legs and nice

smile.
 
I've heard he's a sexist pig and a fascist, but so what?
 
I

wouldn't want to marry him, and neither would you."

"No," Jacey said coolly.

"I wouldn't."

But Ingrid was unabashed.

"So, tell me," she asked gaily, 'what is he like?
 
Lots of staying

power?
 
Personally, I am so bored with men who come too fast.
 
I had

several in America like that.
 
A little bit of panting and groaning,

and then it was "aaah, baby, that was great"."

She laughed.

"Great for them, maybe.
 
A fast orgasm is all some men want.
 
But I

like to feel a cock inside me for a long, long time.
 
I can take it.

I'm not made of Dresden china.
 
And I'm fit.
 
Very fit.
 
I work out.

Pump iron.
 
It was very popular with my friends in America."
 
She

crooked her arm.

"Feel that.
 
Feel the muscle."

Despite herself Jacey reached out and felt Ingrid's biceps.
 
They were

rock hard.

"So?"
 
Ingrid insisted.

"What do you mink?
 
Am I not strong?"
 
She struck a typical body

builder's pose.

"Do you think I should enter for Miss Universe?"

Jacey laughed.
 
Ingrid's tall, slim body looked more suitable for the

catwalk than a muscle woman competition.

"I think you should start making your rounds," she said.

"Do you like strong women?"
 
Ingrid was suddenly serious.

"Would it excite you to make love to a woman with muscles like a

man's?"

"No, it wouldn't," Jacey said.

"You've never thought about making love to a woman?"
 
ingrid

persisted.

"Many women have that fantasy, even if they don't do anything about it.

You have never looked at a particular woman, and wondered what it would

be like to have sex with her?"

"Never," Jacey said truthfully.

"It can be very satisfying," Ingrid said.

"Sure, men are interesting.

I like their hard bodies, and there are times when I like to have a

cock inside me.
 
But for sensual pleasure, women are best.
 
Women

understand each other physically.
 
Have you ever known a man who can

give head properly?
 
Men don't understand the clitoris.
 
They don't

know what to do with it.
 
They try a few flicks of their tongue, or

they suck at you so hard it's just ridiculous, and they call that

foreplay.

They think they are doing you a great favour, that they've aroused

you."
 
She gave a dismissive snort of laughter.

"After a few minutes, they want to enter you, and then it's all over.

Women are different.

They understand each other, and they are not in a hurry."
 
She smiled

invitingly at Jacey.

"To have a really good time, you need a woman to go down on you.
 
Why

don't you visit me tonight, and I'll show you what nice things you've

been missing."

"My God," Jacey said, amused despite herself.

"Do you normally proposition complete strangers five minutes after

you've met?"

"If I think they'll be interested," Ingrid admitted cheerfully, 'yes,

of course.
 
Then it's up to them to take advantage.
 
Many women do.

You'd be surprised how many."

"What made you think I would be interested?"
 
Jacey asked.

ingrid smiled.

"I can see it in your eyes.
 
I think you're a very sensual woman, and

curious.
 
I think you'd like to experiment."

"And I think you're indulging in wishful thinking," Jacey said.
 
She

glanced at her watch.

"We ought to start our rounds.
 
Even if our patients aren't exactly

dying, they do expect to see us every morning."

Later that day, relaxing in her room, Jacey found herself thinking

about her conversation with Ingrid.
 
Had she really looked interested

in Ingrid's suggestions?
 
Or was it simply that all the talk about oral

sex had encouraged her to picture what she and Nicolas could both do to

each other when they got together again?

The thought of an expert tongue exciting her to near orgasm was a

pleasant one.
 
But not Ingrid's tongue.
 
I've had never had any lesbian

fantasies, she realised.
 
Even when Faisel turned out to be such a

bastard, it didn't put me off men.
 
It did put me off love and romance,

all the stupid emotional baggage that makes women so vulnerable.

She leant back in her chair and wondered idly what ingrid looked like

without her clothes on.
 
She was obviously fit, and her legs were

enviably long, but she had no noticeable breasts, and her height and

build would probably make her look like one of those lanky, androgynous

fashion models.
 
She imagined Ingrid striding naked with that typical

model's walk, her ribs visible, and her pelvic bones jutting.
 
It did

not excite Jacey at all.

She closed her eyes and imagined Nicolas Schlemann.
 
That's much

better, she thought.
 
She had not seen him totally naked yet but she

could easily assemble a composite picture from the parts she had

already observed.
 
The body, with its natural tan, hard with muscle.

The lean thighs.
 
The impressive cock and balls bulging from the glossy

mat of dark pubic hair.

Then the phone rang.
 
She picked it up, still daydreaming.

"Dr.
 
Muldaire?"
 
The voice on the other end was lazily confident,