Read Online Revenge of the Black Virgin by Serena Janes - Free Book Online Page A

up and down the length of his body, causing him to
feel something he hadn’t felt since Joanna. He was getting
hard.
    “Because,” she said, lowering her voice
provocatively, “I thought it was time for another kind of
adventure.” She dropped her backpack to the floor, moved closer and
raised a hand to brush back the hair from his forehead. He felt his
knees go weak and put his arms around her for support.
    Hilda was as brave in bed as she was out on
the road. And as untiring. Luc hadn’t planned on spending any time
in Tangier, but they didn’t leave his bed for two days. Sophia
brought them their meals, a faintly disapproving look on her face.
But Luc paid her well, and she reserved comment.
    Then, because Hilda hadn’t seen much of the
city, they decided to stay a third night so they could squeeze in
some sightseeing.
    There was no question that she would travel
with Luc from now on. She didn’t care where he was going—she didn’t
even ask. She just climbed onto the back of his bike and let him
take her wherever he wanted to go.
    As far as Luc was concerned, it didn’t make
much difference to him whether or not he had a traveling companion.
Or where they went. It was an adventure, the diversion he so badly
needed. She traveled light, and she was hot.
    She was also surprisingly easy to be with.
She never talked about anything serious, she didn’t drink, and she
was completely uninhibited about all things sexual. As a bonus, she
seemed to have limitless amounts of money.
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    After their first breakfast in Ronda, Jo,
Brenda and Danny piled into the car—Jo taking the back seat this
time—to follow the winding Ruta de Los Pueblos Blanchos. Their destination for the day was the second largest of the Hill
towns, Arcos de la Frontera . The road was tortuous, and Jo
had to ask Danny to slow down on the curves and switchbacks because
she was prone to carsickness. Brenda, with a constitution tough as
any seasoned sailor, traded seats with her, but that didn’t help
much. Jo didn’t want to take any Gravol, as it made her dull and
sleepy. Danny was too good to miss, she figured. Being half
unconscious in his presence wouldn’t be as much fun, so she
willingly suffered nausea for the duration of the ride.
    “All the towns with the name Frontera,” Brenda read from her guide as Danny navigated
narrow roads searching for a parking space, “were important
outposts protecting Spain from the encroaching Moors.”
    “So that’s why they built on the very top of
the mountain,” Jo said as she tumbled out of the car. “It’s so
beautiful.” She looked up at the picturesque cluster of
white-washed buildings perched high above the new town at the
bottom of the hill. It was a photographer’s dream, she realized,
watching Danny pull his cases of equipment out of the car. He had
the roundest buttocks she’d ever seen on a man. A dancer’s butt,
she knew now. It looked like Brenda had hired the right man.
    In more ways than one. But can he take
photos?
    Laden down with various cases and bags, Danny
followed the two women up through the sun-drenched old town towards
the bullring. To their disappointment, it was closed, so all they
could see was the exterior.
    Danny got busy setting up his tripod and
adjusting his unwieldy large format camera. Every time they changed
location he had to go through the setting up process all over
again. Jo thought it all seemed like an awful lot of work and hoped
it would be worth it. She and Brenda just snapped away with their
little digital cameras while Danny worked.
    Then they headed for the churches, and Danny
had to change his equipment again for the dim interiors. According
to Brenda’s Internet search, Arcos boasted only one Black Virgin—a
small painting. But scholarly research was incomplete, she’d read,
and there could be more tucked away waiting to be catalogued. She
told Jo and Danny she wanted to visit every church, and inspect
every nook and