Chapter Nineteen
Bells rang in his ear. Cheap perfume and sweat clogged his nostrils. Alcohol burned his tongue. Those were all fine assaults on his senses. What Alex hadn’t much cared for was the bare flesh gyrating over the plate the waiter had just sat down before him.
As soon as he’d seen the day’s special on the menu, his mouth had started salivating. He’d had Marrakchia before when he’d visited Morocco. When he’d heard that the chef of this local Cordovian club had installed a tangia, a clay pot used to slow cook meat, Alex had called ahead to order the dish. The onion saturated lamb dish had been placed on his table just moments after he’d taken his seat. It was piping hot. The aromatic smoke of turmeric and ginger curled around his nose. Then whirling hips had interrupted his fir
