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A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series)

Page 13

by Carnegie, Shirley


  ‘Mu-um!’ Lacey wailed. ‘He’s being mean!’ Although both in their twenties, Michael and Lacey had never grown out of their childish, playful banter. Only these days, according to their long-suffering mother, it took more than the promise of a toffee apple to appease them. Now, it took an expensive piece of German engineering to resolve the dispute!

  ‘Lacey’s right, Michael. Do be quiet, darling, so that your sister can concentrate on the road. We don’t want to crash the car on its first outing, do we?’

  Michael groaned in the back seat and flipped a rude sign at Lacey in the driver’s mirror. Just for a second, Lacey took her eyes off the road to deliver a haughty, contemptuous smirk at her brother…

  And that was all it took. A truck was heading towards them on the opposite side of the road. It took the sharp bend far too quickly. The caravan it was towing skidded on the tarmac, spinning crazily at right angles to the tow truck.

  A few seconds earlier and Lacey might have been able to avoid it, but she’d already lost that time gloating over her brother. She flung the steering wheel to one side, then slammed on the brakes, but the car smashed into the side of the caravan. It spun out of control then skidded down the steep slope at the side of the road. The car turned over and over, metal crashing and screeching, glass shattering, before it came to rest among the trees.

  And all that Lacey heard before she passed out was the terrifying sound of a single scream beside her, and strange moans coming from the back of the car. Then came the darkness. A safe, warm, comforting darkness.

  ‘You mustn’t blame yourself,’ family and friends had said. ‘The other driver was a maniac,’ Jasper had growled through his tears. ‘He was travelling way too fast. They never stood a chance in hell of avoiding that caravan.’

  ‘Thank God you came out of it alive,’ her grandmother had cried. ‘I don’t think I could’ve borne it if I’d lost my only daughter and both my grandchildren in the accident. At least we still have you, Lacey darling. And your father will need you to be strong now. We’ll get through this together I’m sure.’

  But, even now, even out here in the beautiful Sabie Valley, Lacey knew that she still hadn’t managed to get over it completely. If only she’d let Michael drive the car; if only she hadn’t taken her eyes off the road to gloat; if only she’d been the one to die instead of Michael…

  But it hadn’t worked out like that. Because of her, her mother and brother were dead. Because of her, her father had lost his beloved son and the heir to the Van der Zyl publishing empire. How the hell could she live with that?

  She’d tried to fill Michael’s shoes, but she couldn’t really match up to her brother who loved all the wheeling and dealing with his dad. Michael and Jasper had been inseparable. Tennis, cricket, snooker, sailing – you name it, they did it together. And they were a formidable team in the world of big business, too. No-one dared cross the Van der Zyls. Everyone knew who called the shots in Cape Town.

  How the hell could she ever have hoped to live up to that? How absurd to imagine that she could be like the son her father had lost. She could never match up to Michael. And she’d been a fool even to try.

  Jasper always said that he didn’t blame her for the loss of his wife and son, but Lacey knew the truth. She could see it in his eyes. He never laughed any more, rarely even played tennis, even though they had their own courts on their Cape Town estate. All he cared about was his work.

  Lacey swore that she’d do everything in her power to help her father though his grief. To make up for robbing him of the son he’d loved more than anyone and anything in the whole wide world...

  High above in the cloudless sky the sun beat down mercilessly over Matshana. Lacey took off her hat and shook her hair out, then wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Beads of perspiration glistened against her skin and she felt hot and exhausted. She stopped when she got to the kopje and monetarily pressed her forehead against the cool granite as she unfastened her flask and took a slug of water.

  Beyond the shade of the gnarled tree, a shimmering heat haze hovered over the landscape. She was quite alone out here in the bush. Alone - and maybe just a little bit anxious? Shielding her eyes from the sun, she scanned the distant horizon. Nothing - apart from long grasses, clusters of kopjes and a scattering of trees.

  It was then that she realised she’d come off the main track. How stupid was that? No-one with any sense would leave the safety of recognised tracks. But then, no-one with any sense would go wandering out into the bush, in soaring midday temperatures, without telling anyone, would they?

  Well, she’d said she wanted to be alone. And she sure as hell was alone now. Completely and utterly alone. This was the real Africa. Her homeland. And yet, somehow, right now, the sheer size of it, the savage beauty and awesome heat, seemed just a bit… scary…?

  How Mortimer would laugh if he could see her now. He’d always scorned her love for Africa. He was a city person. He’d be content in any city anywhere in the world if glitz and glamour and rich pickings were there for the taking. Jasper had warmed to him the minute he came to work for Style Concepts. He could see something of Michael in the thrusting, ambitious young executive who took to the company like a duck to water.

  But Jasper was wrong. Mortimer may have had Michael’s business acumen, but he lacked Michael’s wacky sense of humour, respect for the underdog and generous, loving heart. No, in Lacey’s eyes, Mortimer was nothing like Michael. But Jasper disagreed. And who was she to argue? If Mortimer could fill some of the empty spaces that Michael had left behind, then who was she to spoil her father’s happiness?

  When Mortimer had asked her out on that first date, Jasper had been thrilled. In his eyes, it was the perfect match, and he’d done everything in his power to make it happen. Lacey had felt pressured; she could see that Mortimer wanted the relationship as much as Jasper. But why? He didn’t really love her, did he? He just needed a trophy wife. But Jasper was so wrapped up in his plans for Mortimer that he didn’t see the truth; didn’t want to see the truth.

  But what was the truth? The truth was that Mortimer was a bully; a selfish, ambitious bully who wanted nothing more than to ease his way into the upper echelons of Cape Town society. He didn’t really love her, he just used her and, weakened by her feelings of guilt, she’d let herself be used.

  But not now. Enough was enough. Now, she needed to be free to roam the savannahs, free to be her own person and free, at last, to finish her book and move one step closer to being the published writer she’d always dreamed of being.

  She vividly remembered the evening when she’d first told Jasper and Mortimer about her plans to write a novel. They’d both laughed at first, neither one believing that she’d really manage it. But then, as the plot began to evolve in her head, and her thoughts miraculously transformed themselves into words, they finally had to accept that she intended to achieve her goal.

  It irritated her at first that neither man showed any interest in her project, but she ignored that and simply lost herself in the pleasure of writing. Six months later, when the book was just starting to shape up nicely, Mortimer had delivered a stinging blow, saying that she should just “hurry up and get on with it” and concentrate on more “important things”.

  That had hurt. It hurt even more when one of her so-called friends had suggested that getting it published was a “done deal” given that her father had so much clout in the publishing industry. And it made matters worse when both Jasper and Mortimer agreed with this view. Neither of them could begin to understand why she needed her book to succeed on its own merits. In the end, defeated by their indifference, Lacey never talked about her book again. She carried on writing it in private. Away from their cruel comments and mockery.

  Lacey wondered what Tate would have to say about her dream of becoming a writer. Would he laugh at her foolish fancies, too, if he knew? Probably, she decided with a wry smile. Her novel was a love story and Tate Maddox didn’t do love stories, did he? Any man wh
o could ignore his own child couldn’t possibly do love stories.

  Which was a shame. Because, in her heart, Lacey knew now that she loved Tate Maddox. Loved him in spite of all his faults. But there’d be no real life love story for her here at Matshana.

  She stood there watching a herd of sable grazing in the distance when she heard a sharp crack behind her. Immediately, her heart started to thump against her ribs and her mouth went dry. What was that? And, whatever it was, would she be able to defend herself out here, all alone, in the middle of nowhere?

  Cautiously, she stepped away from the kopje and steadied herself on a mass of entwined roots and smaller rocks and stones. Slowly, she brandished her water flask as a weapon, although she realised that it wouldn’t be much help against a hungry lioness looking to feed her cubs! With her fingers curled around the feeble weapon, she held it out in front of her like a sword. She was fully prepared to strike, when Tate suddenly stepped into view.

  When he first saw her standing there, grasping that hopelessly inadequate flask, Tate had wanted to laugh, partly with relief at finding her safe, and partly because she looked so damn cute and adorable standing there brandishing a water bottle. But a hell of a lot of adrenalin had been pumping through his veins since he’d first discovered her missing, and he found it hard to stay calm now.

  He’d guessed, rightly so it seemed, that she’d take off into one of the more remote areas of Matshana. What he hadn’t reckoned on was her leaving the relative safety of the main tracks to go pottering about like some idiotic tourist in the middle of the African bush.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled, his immense relief now erupting into anger. ‘Are you crazy or what? You could get yourself killed out here!’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, thanks very much,’ Lacey retorted, still clutching her water bottle. ‘You didn’t have to follow me!’

  ‘Didn’t I? What were you thinking of, Lacey? No-one in their right mind goes wandering off without telling people where they’re going. And they certainly don’t go out in the hottest part of the day armed with nothing more than bottle of water for protection. Christ, Lacey! That’s just plain, bloody stupid.’

  Lacey felt her hackles rise. How dare he criticise her judgement and call her names like that. Who was he to assume responsibility for her wellbeing? She’d managed perfectly well all by herself all these years. She didn’t need an alpha male like Tate Maddox to start supervising her now!’

  ‘I’m not stupid, I’ll have you know. And I’ll thank you not to call me names. I’m sorry if my going for a walk caused you all this hassle, but you won’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll be gone within two days and you can have your precious Matshana all to yourself again.’

  She spat out the words, and they cut through Tate’s heart like sharp daggers. He hadn’t really stopped to think that she’d be leaving so soon. But then, why wouldn’t she be? She’d got her story about the lodges – and a bit of juicy gossip, too –there was nothing to keep her here now. She had her glamorous life in Cape Town to get back to –amazing how easily she’d thrown on those fancy clothes and slipped into the fast set that made up Tilly’s circle of friends! No doubt, after the party, she’d realised how much she was missing her civilised life in the city. She was clearly itching to get back there. Away from him. And why the hell should he to try to stop her?

  ‘You’re quite right,’ he growled. ‘You’ve got a career to get back to, and you’ve probably got a shed load of posh parties to catch up on. Matshana’s no place for a woman with sophisticated tastes! I learned that lesson long ago.’

  ‘If, by that remark, you’re referring to your wife, then yes, this is no place for a woman - sophisticated or not.’ ‘My wife? How come you know about my wife?’

  ‘Mrs Du Preez told me.’

  Tate groaned. ‘I should have known. The woman’s an interminable gossip. So, what else did she tell you?’ ‘The truth,’ Lacey declared, clipping her flask back on to her belt now that she was protected from danger by Tate’s comforting strength and courage. ‘She told me how Gareth helped your wife get away from here after she learned about your …. affair with Nandi. Yes Tate. I know all about that, too. And I understand exactly why Miranda had to leave. I’m just glad your brother was here to support her. God, how she must have needed him at that time.’

  ‘Oh Lacey!’ Tate forked his fingers through his hair and shook his head sadly. ‘You’re so wrong. You just can’t see it.’ Lacey snapped. ‘I can see the truth when it hits me between the eyes, Tate. And do you want to know what I think? I reckon Gareth’s twice the man you are. I don’t blame Nandi, because I know how easy it is to fall for a man like you. It may seem ridiculous to you, Tate, but even I’m not immune to your charms. What a joke, huh?’

  ‘You!’ Tate’s heart skipped a beat. Was she really saying that she cared for him? Could that be true? With her beautiful emerald eyes flashing in anger, and her red-gold hair gleaming in the sun, she looked utterly fabulous. And all he wanted to do right now was scoop her up in his arms and put an end to all her foolish speculation.

  ‘Yes me!’ Lacey continued through a red mist of suppressed fury. ‘Absurd isn’t it? Even though I know that you seduced Nandi, and that your wife had to leave because of that, and that your brother won’t have anything to do with you, and that… that Themba is your son, I still fell for you like a bloody fool. Yes, Tate, I know about Themba, too. And there’s no point looking so shocked. Anyone can see that he’s yours. He has your eyes, for God’s sake. I just can’t understand why you refuse to recognise him. I think it’s disgraceful. But what you choose to do doesn’t mean a damn thing to me anymore. I’m out of here first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll ask my dad to send the plane early. And then, just like Miranda, I’ll get as far away from you as…’

  Suddenly, Tate’s voice shot through her words, cutting off her angry tirade.

  ‘Be quiet woman!’

  ‘How dare …’ But there was something in Tate’s tone that shocked her to the core and her argument died in her throat. ‘Cobra!’ Tate warned, his senses as highly-tuned as a black panther. ‘And it’s got you in its sights. Don’t say another word, Lacey. And don’t move a muscle or, trust me, you’re dead!’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lacey tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Silently, she pleaded with Tate with her eyes. There was nothing else she could do. She stood there, rigid with fear, in full view of a poisonous snake that was poised to strike at any moment.

  The Egyptian cobra, with its fast-acting, lethal venom, was common in Southern Africa. This one had made its nest in the cool, dark crannies under the kopje, but it had slithered out of the shadows earlier and now posed a very real danger. Keeping Lacey firmly in its sights, the snake raised itself off the ground with its hood fully inflated. It fixed her with its shiny black eyes and opened its mouth wide. Droplets of venom trickled down its fangs; its coiled body tensed to strike.

  Tate began to make strange noises that sent a shiver down Lacey’s spine. He then started to circle the creature. Distracted, the cobra swung round to face him, directing its venomous hood towards this new threat. Still murmuring softly, Tate crept closer. Transfixed, the snake began to sway, but it stayed upright, ready to sink its fangs into its new aggressor. Tate knew he was easily within the snake’s range. If it chose to bite him out here, he probably wouldn’t survive.

  Using the basic survival techniques he’d learned as a boy, he reached out and snatched the snake up into the air by its tail. It thrashed about menacingly, but Tate kept it at arm’s length so there was no way it could reach him. Instead, it swung helplessly in the air; its mouth open like a dark, terrifying cavern.

  With his arm thrust out at full stretch, and his muscles straining like steel cords, Tate checked that Lacey was safely out of the way before he let the creature down to the ground and loosened his hold. He then leapt back out of harm’s way and watched as the cobra
slithered back into its nest under the rocks.

  The realisation of what might have happened hit Lacey like a thunderbolt and her legs buckled beneath her. Panicked, she reached out for support. In an instant, Tate was at her side; his powerful arms wrapped around her, his breath warm against her cheek.

  ‘Oh Tate…’ Lacey cried, sinking against his chest. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’ ‘No need to be sorry, sweetheart,’ Tate murmured. ‘It’s over now.’

  ‘But what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here? I might have died!’ Tate groaned loudly and pulled her closer in a grip so tight she could barely breathe. ‘Don’t say that, Lacey! Don’t even think it. If anything had happened to you, I … I couldn’t live with myself. All that matters is that I was here, and you’re safe.’

  Lacey snuggled deeper into his embrace. Her cheeks were wet with tears and wisps of Tate’s chest hair tickled her nose, but she didn’t care. He was right. She was safe. And she would always be safe… here… in Tate’s arms. A warm glow radiated through her body as the truth finally dawned on her: she would always be safe when Tate was around. Safe and happy. He was strong, virile and courageous and, with a man like that at her side, she’d never have to worry about anything ever again.

  It was a wonderful feeling and she just wished it could go on forever. She wished she could stay here in the beautiful Sabie Valley with Tate. Here, she could forget about the outside world. Here at Matshana, she might be able to ease the pain, the guilt, and those terrible memories.

  ‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ Carefully, Tate lifted her chin with his thumb so that he could look deep into her eyes. Her lashes were wet with tears and her little mouth was quivering with fear. Gently, he kissed her eyes, her nose, before letting his lips brush gently against hers. He felt her relax as she snuggled closer.

  Her head was tilted back. Slowly, he threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of her neck and pressed soft kisses down her throat. She sighed and closed her eyes. For a brief moment, Tate pulled back, searching her face for signs of anxiety, unsure of himself, and unwilling to add to her stress. But he saw that her lips had parted and her mouth had formed itself into a half smile. He groaned again as his mouth sought hers, more demanding now. The floodgates had opened suddenly and all his pent up emotion came flooding out. Unexpectedly, Lacey wound her arms around his neck and drove her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer.

 

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