This could be the perfect opportunity to take advantage of her hero worship. But making love to Tessa Scott would mess with his ability to think straight. When and if that ever happened, his next move would be to get her out of Enigma and some place safe—forever. Such a scenario involved her kids and her lame brained husband, who he should have taken care of months ago. He clenched his teeth multiple times, wanting to remove Robert Scott from Tessa’s life. Had he really sunk so low he’d consider bodily harm to an innocent to get what he wanted?
When she took a deep breath, he touched her shoulder then toyed with the blanket, pretending to make sure she remained comfortable, when in reality he longed to create a world where she became obsessed with loving him.
He bolted the door then pushed a chest in front of it for extra protection in case he fell asleep.
The springs squeaked when he sat on the foot of the bed. Removing his shirt and tie helped him relax even as he stared longingly at his newest agent. The belt came off next along with his trousers before he slipped into lightweight khakis. Normally he slept in boxers or nothing at all, but he needed to be ready to move fast in an emergency. Besides, the more clothes he wore when Tessa occupied his space, the better things stayed in perspective. He ran the palm of his hand over his face as fatigue washed over him. A yawn followed a roll his shoulders.
His mental checklist turned to Handsome Jones. What was he up to, and why? Did he have connections to the village where almost everyone had been slaughtered? Was the Canadian doctor somehow involved? They would know soon enough. The State Department made plans for them to visit a new clinic in a remote part of the Okavango Delta after coordinating with UN personnel in the Nairobi, Kenya office. They didn’t need any more trouble in Africa. Botswana remained stable for the time being, and the rumors of discontent created a sense of urgency.
Whatever Handsome planned, it involved the Kifaru diamond. How he’d found it remained a mystery. Why did he care what went on in this part of the world? Did he have something to gain by interfering in the politics of a relatively stable country? He had the Kifaru months ago and entrusted it to Tessa. Why not sell it for the millions it would bring instead of opposing a thug like Baboloki? Tessa’s research failed to uncover any connection between the pair.
Taking a deep breath, he walked to the lamp near the window and clicked it off. Then, he pulled back the curtain to survey the lighted grounds below. Nothing appeared out of sync with the surroundings. A step away from the window, he turned to gaze down at Tessa who’d rolled to her side. Her arm dangled over the edge of the sofa and a bare foot pushed out from under the blanket. He remembered how ticklish her feet were and guessed if he touched a toe she would kick even in a deep sleep. Moving up to where her head lay, he could see her lips parted, and her breathing came a little too fast for someone supposed to be sound asleep.
With his index finger, he pushed several curls away from her delicate face and considered kissing the spot he’d freed from their unruliness. He withdrew to the bed, afraid one thing would lead to another if he didn’t rein in his pathetic attraction to something he didn’t deserve.
He lay on top of the covers, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, still unable to shut off his thoughts. The sound of Tessa tossing and turning drew his attention again. She mumbled in a language that sounded like Pashtu, the language of Afghanistan. He recognized some of the words. Was she dreaming of the tribesman who’d kidnapped her or the terrible things she’d done to survive?
The Enigma psychiatrist kept him informed of her progress without jeopardizing the confidentiality rule. According to him, Tessa had forgiven herself and put those days behind her. Nightmares had become fewer as the weeks and months passed. If that were true, why did she grow more agitated by the second?
Tessa jumped off the couch and ran to the blocked door. She frantically tried to move the chest of drawers, panting between sobs.
Chase came to her side. “Tessa. Tessa,” he cooed. “It’s me. Chase.” When he dared lay a hand on her arm, she swung around and landed a fist on his shoulder then aimed at his jaw. Catching her small hand in his, he witnessed terror filling her wide eyes. “Tessa. Come back to me,” he said in a reassuring voice. “You’re having a nightmare.”
Her body went limp, and she dropped her hands to her side. Leaning forward, she rested her cheek against his chest. Stroking the back of her head, he waited for her to swim up from her tortured dreams. He felt the sweat on her neck and back and once more blamed himself for abandoning her in Afghanistan. If he had a redo he would shun his duty and evacuate her to a safer place.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was so real.”
“Does this happen often?”
“Not for a long time. Maybe the stranger in my room triggered it. Guess I’m a coward.”
Chase chuckled and rubbed her back vigorously. “A pain in the butt, yes. A coward, no.”
Landing a gentle fist to his abs, Tessa pushed away. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“I hadn’t gone to sleep.” He took her hand and led her to the bed. “Sleep here. You’ll be more comfortable. I don’t mind the couch or the floor.”
“Is this going to be one of those times when you say that then in the morning I find you next to me?” She tried to cover a yawn. “I’ll take the couch. Thanks for the rescue.” She slipped away from him.
“It’s what I live for,” he mocked in a deep voice, drawing another chuckle from her as she lay down.
“Good night, big guy. I’ll try not to be so needy the rest of the night. One of these times I’m going to save your hide. I promise.”
“And I promise to give you a reward fit for a hero.”
“Code for inappropriate, I’m sure,” she spoke in a low voice.
“Absolutely.”
They talked for a while longer until conversation gradually fell away. Chase stopped fighting sleep and imagined the two of them ending each day like this, only with her next to him. This picture often formed in his mind and kept him from going to the dark place he’d been before they’d met. Even if this was all they ever shared, it was better than nothing.
Chapter Six
“Here is the information pulled off the woman’s computer, Mr. President.” His head of security laid a plain file folder down on Baboloki’s uncluttered desk then exited the room as the president turned from the large window overlooking the palace gardens.
President Baboloki resisted picking up the folder since he already knew most of what it contained. He’d waited up for the first bits of information to be brought to him in the early morning hours despite dozing off several times. He’d refrained from drinking too much alcohol during dinner, but after turning fifty-eight, the temptation to steal a nap here and there had become a habit.
His toned body appeared strong and fit for someone his age, but he knew better. The dark-black skin was free of the wrinkles and scars that came with stress, manipulation, and deceit. This part of his job gave him pleasure rather than concern. The euphoric sensation of power bestowed a fountain of youth on his calm exterior.
Only when events, people, or overcooked food failed him did he notice creases around his large round eyes. He’d trained his staff to recognize when his wide nostrils flared, to expect condemnation or retribution swiftly. It proved better to beg for forgiveness than to explain. Even this gave him pleasure in a peculiar way. Better for them to fear and respect him than to take matters into their own hands and cause a coup or, worse, a free and legal election. How absurd would that be in Africa?
Another tap at the door preceded the entrance of a skinny girl of no more than fifteen. She slipped in, burdened with a tray holding a silver coffee service and a china plate stacked with biscuits and jam. He pointed to a table in front of his leather couch then picked up the file folder. When the sound of the door closed, Baboloki moved to the couch and flopped down like a tired lion then slipped on a pair of reading glasses he kept on the end table then opened the folder.
One section, highlighted in yellow, jumped out at him immediately. He leaned forward to read it a second time as his blood pressure increased. Heat flushed his cheeks. In seconds, he’d called Kirk Opperman.
“We have a problem.”
~ ~ ~
“You look a little green, Tessa,” Carter Johnson said, leaning in front of her to look out the window of their small plane. He sat between her and Samantha Cordova. Chase was in the front with the pilot, over Carter’s objections. After all, he was a pilot and Chase wasn’t. If push came to shove, taking over the plane would be no big deal for him. But sandwiched between two of his favorite ladies, he decided he’d come out ahead.
In such tight quarters, Tessa’s cheek touched his when she turned to look at him. He wrinkled his nose in mischief and pressed a little closer. “You okay?” he continued.
Tessa grabbed his hand when the plane bounced. “I’m going to be sick.”
Chase stole a glance back at her and then passed a small brown paper bag to Carter who immediately folded it. “I’m going to tuck this into your shirt, sweetness, so don’t slap me. It will make you feel better within a minute or two.”
“Okay,” she mumbled with a nod and raised her chin and opened her collar.
“No worries.” He smiled like a little boy then spread open her collar wide enough that two more buttons popped open. He could see her black lacy bra and puzzled once more what Chase Hunter was waiting on to claim this little piece of heaven.
“The plane is bouncing because of turbulence, not engine problems. The heat rises up from the savanna floor in the afternoon and causes this uneven motion.” He patted the bag and adjusted it so that it slid down slightly. Reaching into her blouse, he slowly pulled it up as his eyes caressed hers with the kind of come-hither look that got him into trouble from time to time.
She lowered her chin sharply and pushed his hand away.
“Just trying to make you comfortable.”
“Stop it,” she groaned.
Chase turned around in his seat again. “Problem?” he growled.
“Carter is getting a little handy,” Samantha snapped, shoving an elbow into Carter.
Carter’s body twitched at her jab, his laughter suddenly filling the plane. “No worries, boss. She’ll be right as rain in a minute.”
“Tess?” Chase inquired. “Did you see the elephants below?”
She shook her head. “I don’t care,” she breathed.
“Coming in,” Chase informed the group. “We’re landing on that strip of land next to the delta.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Tessa mumbled.
Carter was amused once more as Chase offered encouragement with a sympathetic nod. Tessa gave a thumbs-up indicating improvement. He didn’t understand those two. Best friends, or at least they pretended to be in public, drew a great deal of speculation at Enigma. Chase still managed to have a string of women at the university interested in him and didn’t try to hide the fact those relationships were more physical than emotional. But when it came to Tessa, he morphed into a knight in shining armor, her constant protector and companion. How did he do it?
Carter glanced over at Samantha, his partner on missions like these, and hoped he didn’t slip in his drool when he exited the plane. She continued to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever known and the most frustrating. No matter how many times he’d suggested they get better acquainted, Sam continued to rebuff him with a mixture of annoyance and apathy.
But there had been moments when she’d touched him, pulled him from the fire of disaster, defended him to the director or Chase. Maybe he would eventually win her affection, if not her heart. Baiting her into anger was a pastime he enjoyed and, if truth be told, he believed she took pleasure in the activity, too. She bordered on being sadistic, so she gave as good as she got. Playing hard to get might be a good strategy.
The wheels touched down, rocking the plane slightly, as Samantha pointed to the blue delta. “Oh look, Betty Crocker, there’s your twin.”
Tessa leaned forward to see her pointing to a hippopotamus slipping into the water. “Bite me,” she moaned, still a bit pale.
“Gladly,” Carter said then chomped his teeth together. “How ya feeling, sweetness?”
Tessa liked him, bad humor and all, but it was because he’d been an astronaut, and in her head that meant hero, smart, risk-taker, badass. She nodded and pulled the bag from her blouse. “Better. What is in the bag to make the motion sickness disappear?”
“Nothing,” Carter said, taking it from her. “You focused on the bag instead of the motion, and you got better. Simple trick. Works every time.”
“Amazing. Thanks, Carter,” she said bumping his shoulder with hers.
He winked at her. What a nice lady she was; one that had no business in Enigma. “I’ll make a pilot out of you yet. Lessons begin when we get back.”
Samantha offered an exasperated “humph” as she unbuckled her seat belt. “Be careful if he wants to put the plane on autopilot.”
Carter wrinkled his nose at Sam. “Then, next time, don’t be sending me mixed signals.”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
“On every star I see, Agent Cordova.”
“Enough,” warned Chase. He thanked the pilot for a safe trip and informed them he’d fly to their end destination to drop off their luggage so it would be waiting for them when they arrived.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Tessa looked around her in awe when her feet touched earth. “I’m really in Africa. I’ll check this off my bucket list.”
Carter watched his boss roll his broad shoulders after being in such tight quarters and understood more than their innocent Mrs. Tessa Scott, this wasn’t just an African adventure. Both he and Chase carried weapons, and he for one didn’t like the idea of hippos, elephants, and crocodiles moving in the same geography as them. The real concern could be the trouble brewing between the villages and Gaborone, the capital city. A man walked forward from the edge of a stand of trees and waved his hat in big wide movements.
The instinct to take Tessa’s hand as they approached the white man in a pith helmet standing at the tree line, forced Chase to keep shifting his glances at his team to make sure they were alert. Of course, Tessa had that pie-in-the-sky look about her like she’d fallen into a Tarzan movie and would soon be the target of adventure and the main character of a story around the campfire. She even pointed to a pile of elephant dung like it might be the Holy Grail and giggled like a schoolgirl.
“This is so great,” she said with excitement. None of the others expressed any enthusiasm for pachyderm poop.
Chase took her elbow to guide her after she stumbled over a branch the size of a baseball bat. “Watch where you’re going. This ain’t Disney World’s Animal Kingdom.”
Instead of jerking away like she ordinarily would, Tessa hooked her arm through his. “I know! Right?”
He couldn’t resist a grin at her wide, excited eyes that matched the blue of the Okavango water. “Try to show a little restraint,” he warned.
“You guys can be restrained all you want. I’ve dreamed of this since I was a little girl. This is fantastic.” She laid her other hand on his arm, and he flexed his muscles under her tender touch.
He loved how life inspired her, but Africa was a combination of mystery, danger, and death. She probably would think the bite of a black mamba an educational experience. He stole a glance down at her feet to make sure she’d worn boots instead of those sparkly flip-flops she’d brought along. It would be like her to want to dip her toes in the Okavango and end up stepping on a disgruntled snake.
“Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Girard. I’ve been expecting you.” The man at the tree line greeted them with his hand outstretched toward Chase. “Flight a little bumpy? Watched that bird dip a couple of times as you were descending.”
“Not too bad or unexpected.” Chase put on his friendly expression then introduced the others. The doctor inspected Tessa for a few ex
tra seconds as if in some kind of recognition.
“Mrs. Scott. May I call you Tessa?” the doctor asked as he fanned out his hand toward a path leading through the trees.
“I wish you would.” Tessa sounded cheerful and moved up alongside the doctor, leaving the protective arm of Chase. “We’ve been excited to meet you and see the work you’ve been doing here.” She twisted her head around, sometimes bending down to look through brush and trees. “Are we safe to walk through here?”
“Quite safe,” the doctor encouraged. “There is so much activity that the animals don’t come around in the day. The nighttime is another matter. Mostly small game, an occasional hippo or elephant but other than that, nothing to be concerned about. Most of the big game will be where you’re headed later today. You probably spotted some movement from the plane.”
“I’m afraid I was too queasy to open my eyes,” she admitted.
The doctor chuckled. “Well, no matter. You’ll see plenty by the time you arrive at Camp Kubu. Come. We’ve prepared a small lunch for you. Then we’ll have a tour of our clinic and school.”
“Sounds perfect.” Tessa sounded enthusiastic. Chase zeroed in on her, willing her to be careful, but she turned away and continued chatting with the doctor.
She wanted things to be right with the world, exciting to explore and nothing to worry about in spite of the scare at the hotel. That characteristic remained one of the many things he loved about her, but this wasn’t the time or place to get careless.
He remembered earlier in the morning when the rays of light pushed through the windows. The image of tangled blond hair and a sheet half-draped across her body... She’d accepted his mandate to stay with him without complaint. While he made coffee, Chase had watched her come to life. The awareness he needed to stop kidding himself about having a relationship with her weighed heavier each day.
He caught the are-you-kidding-me look in Carter’s eye. His friend believed he should take what he wanted. But he couldn’t break his own rules. She was a married agent. The agent thing was an easy fix; the husband, not so much. A frown seemed to get Carter back on track with observing his surroundings. Sam never wavered, always the agent he could bank on to go by the book.
Black Mamba Page 4
