Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  Amie looked thoughtful. “When we drove up to the camp Karen and Ken travelled together in the Isuzu. Bob and I were in the Nissan.”

  “So, if Karen freaked out when she saw me with the documents it was because she didn’t want me to see what was in them.”

  “So,” Amie’s brain was working overtime, “that would suggest she was working with Ken all along. They were certainly pretty cosy together on occasion. I thought she fancied him. Though he didn’t go inside the Residence now I come to think of it.”

  “What was the Residence?”

  “Oh, not now, Simon, long story. I’ll fill you in another time. Weeks of torture,” then seeing the horror on his face Amie burst out laughing. “Not real torture, just training, though at times it was difficult to tell the difference. We should check out that folder.”

  “It can wait until tomorrow. I can think of other things I’d rather do right now,” as Simon spoke, he gathered her in his arms and looked deep into her eyes.

  “Wait, just one more thing,” Amie drew back.

  “More questions?”

  “Just one. Were you ever in the Embassy in Apatu?”

  Simon frowned. “No, that’s in Togodo right?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, sorry, never been there. Why do you ask?”

  “I thought I saw you, well someone very like you, and again at the graveside.”

  “What graveside? No, it wasn’t me. Any more questions before we …?”

  “No, that’s the last, I promise.”

  For the first time in weeks, Amie relaxed. All her doubts fell away, she was with a man she could trust, one who evidently wanted her as much as she wanted him. She gazed softly at him as he lifted her chin slightly and he kissed her lips. She responded probably too quickly for the kind of girl her mother hoped she’d brought up, but Amie didn’t care. If Simon wanted to make love to her, she wasn’t going to argue.

  He broke away then pulled her over onto the bed. Climbing up next to her he stroked her hair with one hand while running his fingers from her chin down between her breasts until they reached the top of her legs.

  She squirmed under his touch, her skin tingling.

  But Simon was in no rush. “We’ve waited so long for this Amie, a few more moments won’t hurt, will they?”

  Despite her need, Amie couldn’t resist a little chuckle as she sat up, and being careful not to touch his injured arm, gently pulled him down on top of her.

  “And how am I supposed to get my clothes off now?” He grinned.

  “Ah, bad planning,” Amie wriggled out from under him and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Simon threw his good arm out. “I surrender, do with me what you will.” His words took her breath away and her gaze softened. She ran her fingers lightly up and down his chest, an exploratory gentleness so necessary after what they’d been through. She twined her arms around his neck as she pressed herself against him.

  Amie’s toes curled and blood surged into her face, neck and shoulders as the heat of his tenderness set her on fire. Her response was electric, her tongue sought his and their meeting left no doubt that Amie was as ready as he was to make love.

  He held her close, never taking his eyes away from hers.

  Amie’s heart pounded in her ears, almost begging to feel him, his skin, his hands on her body.

  He smiled, an all-encompassing warmth emanating from his parted lips. He stroked her face, her hair and the soft skin on her chest, down through her heaving breasts to her stomach.

  She groaned, closed her eyes, then opened them again, not wanting to miss a moment of his fingertips’ exploration, the exquisite sensations as he stroked the hollows beside her hip bones.

  She groaned again, “Oh Simon, I want you so much … I always have, from day one … What are you doing …?”

  Simon placed a finger on her lips, “Sssh, my little darling, my beautiful … Amie. Clothes off would be better, don’t you think?”

  Amie smiled, “Ah yes, I got side tracked, let me help.” She sucked his lower lip with her teeth, undoing the rest of his shirt buttons with surprisingly practiced fingers, removing the sling and peeling his shirt over his bandaged arm with care, before reaching for his zipper.

  He took her hand away, grinning, “That’s for me to do, Miss Impatient. My turn now.” Simon slipped her arms out of her shirt, reaching for her bra fastening behind her back. “May I?”

  Amie nodded once, twice, more, she could hardly wait to be naked with this man, to feel his body on hers, in hers, she’d waited so long …

  Her small breasts came free, the bra discarded. His lips brushed her erect nipples and she groaned again.

  He tugged at her unbuttoned trousers, his eyes seeking permission at every move, and slowly he drew them, along with her panties, down, down, over her bottom, her knees and her feet, leaving her gloriously bare for him to see.

  He smiled and his lips met Amie’s again, their breathing quickening, tongues playing over teeth. With one hand he unzipped his fly, pulling his trousers off, showing her he was ready.

  Amie gasped and taking him in hand, their eyes locked together, she guided him inside her. Amie thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

  24 A NASTY SURPRISE

  The following morning just after dawn, Amie was woken by the hustle and bustle around the camp. She listened to the sounds of vehicles leaving on game drives, and chattering tourists walking past. She turned to look at Simon. His lashes were impossibly long, his blonde hair falling over his face, peaceful in sleep, and she leaned over to kiss his nose.

  He turned onto his back and smiled at her. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” He kissed her back.

  “Yes, but only after I finally got to sleep. Someone not a million miles away kept me awake for most of the night,” Amie laughed.

  He grinned and reached for her again.

  While Simon’s tongue sought all the right places on Amie’s body, a picture of Jonathon flashed across her mind. For a moment she stiffened, and then forced herself to relax. Sex with her husband had been good, but not this good. Simon was gentle, thoughtful and didn’t rush. He wanted to know what she liked, what she wanted him to do to bring her to heights of ecstasy she’d never known before. I could get addicted to this very easily, and I could get addicted to Simon as well. Oh please, let him be one of the good guys. Please just let this be real.

  “Unfortunately, Amie, we need to get back to Durban,” he murmured nibbling her ear lobe.

  “I want to stay here forever, here in bed with you.”

  “Maybe we can squeeze in one more day, no one knows where we are.”

  “Or even if we’re alive,” Amie added. How many times can you escape death before you’ve thrown the dice once too often? Then her thoughts turned to something else as Simon slid over her and sent her to heaven once more.

  This, thought Amie, is one of those days I will always remember. They had taken an early lunch having missed breakfast altogether, and spent the afternoon on the loungers by the pool, dozing, learning more about each other, taking time to rest and relax after the traumas of the last few weeks. But Amie couldn’t help worrying about Karen. Would there be any repercussions when they righted the overturned truck and found Karen underneath – shot? How closely did the police in Mozambique work with the law enforcement people in South Africa? Would anyone remember the license number of the South African Isuzu that had been parked at the side of the road? Or even that there were two other white people standing nearby at the time? She had a sinking feeling they’d not heard the last of that episode; would it come back to haunt them?

  The sun was slipping behind the hills when they finally pulled into Durban the following day.

  “Back to your apartment?”

  “Yes, but will you stay with me tonight. I really don’t want to be on my own, Simon.”

  “Try and stop me.”

  She laughed. “My white knight on a shining steed.”

  “I shal
l be there to defend you to the death.”

  The simple statement sent shivers down her spine, making her feel both deliriously happy and anxious at the same time.

  They left the car outside while they dumped the bags in the lift then Amie went on upstairs while Simon went back for the rest of the stuff. She fished the door keys out from the darkest corner of her bag and reflected that even after everything that had happened, her handbag had remained tucked away under the seat in the car all the time. She remembered now where her mobile phone was; her fingers brushed against it while she fumbled for the keys. When she entered her apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief, and dropped her bags on the couch. This was her home now, her safe haven, and there was another night of bliss to look forward to before returning to the real world tomorrow.

  Amie ambled into the kitchen area and switched on the kettle.

  “I’ll take mine black, no sugar, Amie I’m sweet enough …” the voice behind her made her blood run cold.

  Ken!

  “You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?” The smirk on his face sent chills down her spine.

  “But …”

  “You thought I was dead, yes? Oh, Amie, how naïve of you. A couple of knife wounds in the stomach? You of all people should know that wasn’t life-threatening. You and Simon were too stupid to do the job properly when you had the chance. Now your time has finally run out. But I’ll have that coffee first.”

  Amie’s eyes were riveted on Ken’s face, then dropped to his right hand where he held a gun fitted with a silencer.

  The nightmare wasn’t over and Simon was going to walk in any minute. She willed him to stay away, sent him mind messages to go for help, call the police, anything …

  But they didn’t work. Ken was standing in the passageway by the bedroom door, and Simon didn’t see him until he’d walked right into the lounge.

  “I think that’s everything important, the rest can stay there for the …” then he saw her face. “Amie, what’s wrong?”

  “I think I’ve upset her,” Ken answered stepping out of the corridor and into the lounge. “Sit down, Simon.” He waved the gun towards the couch. “This is a bonus. I’d thought that maybe Amie had disappeared a second time all by herself, but now I have the pair of you.” Ken walked over to the front door and closed it, double locking it and pulling the chain across. Isn’t that coffee ready yet, Amie?”

  Amie was paralyzed, her legs and arms were rooted to the spot and the room floated round her. She couldn’t believe this was happening. From an idyllic interlude to impending disaster within a few hours. Yet, here he was, her hated adversary, her worst nightmare.

  Ken waved the gun and she forced herself to take a couple of mugs off the shelf and reach for the coffee jar. It made the everyday task seem surreal as she felt for a spoon in the drawer. She was loath to take her eyes off Ken, scared to turn her back on him; it took an age to complete the simple task.

  “Don’t forget to make a cup for Simon, as well,” Ken reminded her. “I’m sure he could do with one after that long drive.”

  “So, how did you get in?” Simon appeared calm.

  “The apartment you mean? I’ve always had a set of keys. I had them the day before Amie moved in. Not too difficult when you have a network of contacts all over the city. I often came in and had a look around.”

  Amie closed her eyes. The thought of Ken rifling through her underwear drawer, looking through her books and private papers, even checking out her computer, was repulsive. She felt violated … again.

  Ken reached forward and removed a small metal button from under the coffee table. “Not only did I get a good look round, but I also listened to every word.” He smirked.

  “That’s a lie. Bob swept the place thoroughly for bugs and it was clean.” Amie spat, a small surge of triumph swept through her.

  “Yes, I know. But who do you suppose gave him the mal-functioning bug detector in the first place? My dear, I’ve been one step ahead of you all the time.”

  “So, what happens now?” To Amie’s ears Simon sounded calm, while her legs were quaking as she oscillated between rage and terror.

  Ken ignored the question, eager to share with them how clever he’d been. “I tracked every move you made, Amie, monitored every call you took. You made it so easy for me, even leaving your phone behind that day.” Ken picked up Amie’s handbag. “What a lot of rubbish women carry around with them,” he shook his head, “so much they wouldn’t even notice an extra little lump right at the bottom.” He reached in and brought out another small listening device which Amie recognised from her training at the Residence. Ken noticed her expression.

  “Yes, kindly supplied by the British government, who’ve unknowingly helped me over and over again,” he chuckled.

  “So, what happens now?” Simon repeated his question and this time Ken turned to him.

  “Impatient, aren’t you? Never does to rush to your doom. Isn’t that coffee ready yet?”

  Amie slowly poured the water into three mugs wondering if she could get close enough with the kettle to douse Ken with boiling water, or maybe throw the coffee in his face, but he’d anticipated that.

  “Leave them there on the counter. I’ll hand them round.” He pointed the gun at the other chair. “Sit down. Now!” He shouted when she didn’t move.

  Amie shuffled forward and sat on the edge of one of the chairs opposite the sofa. She wanted so much to sit next to Simon on the couch, but that would narrow the target for Ken’s gun.

  “No, Amie, on the couch, next to your lover. You two are lovers, aren’t you? Yes, of course, I heard you. A black man not good enough for you, Amie?”

  She flinched as the attempted rape flashed through her mind.

  One by one Ken took the mugs off the kitchen counter and placed them on the coffee table, two on one side for Amie and Simon and one for himself on the little side table.

  “Right. Time for business. First, I want your phone, Amie. Ah, wait it was in your bag, yes. Fancy you forgetting that.” He rummaged in her bag and pulled it out.

  He was taunting her but Amie kept a straight face. She was looking for any way they might overpower him, grab his gun and finish him off – properly this time. Her ethics about taking a life were changing rapidly. She loathed the man who now stood in front of her.

  Ken slipped the phone into his pocket. “Next – the folder. I believe you have that as well?”

  “No idea what you’re talking about,” Simon picked up his coffee.

  “Oh, but you do, Simon. The file you took from the Isuzu. I heard you tell Amie all about it – after the incident with poor Karen, of course.”

  Amie gasped. Ken must have heard every word – in the truck, at the border post, the room at the game lodge, any time she’d had her bag near her. Even when they were making love; her flesh crawled.

  “Drink up Amie, you’ve barely touched your coffee, and I know how much you love it.” Ken’s voice was sharp, impatient.

  “I, er, not now …”

  “Yes! Now! Drink it!”

  Amie peered into the brown liquid and hesitantly took a mouthful. She’d drunk enough of her own coffee to know it tasted different. She replaced the mug on the table but Ken screamed at her to drink it all. She was too scared to disobey, and began taking tiny sips.

  Simon was drinking his and Amie wondered if he realised that something had been added. Ken had doctored the coffee she was sure of it.

  Ken watched them as he got up and rifled through the bags they’d brought up looking for the file.

  Simon stood up holding his coffee mug. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said casually, “and you’re not going to stop me.” He drank the last of his coffee, and headed down the passageway.

  Amie looked at his empty mug in dismay. Simon had drunk all of it. It was too late. He was going to die. Ken urged her again to finish hers, getting angry when she spilled some on the carpet because her hand was trembling. She didn�
��t think she’d wasted enough to make a difference, but already she was feeling woozy. The room swirled round and round, the overhead light was bright one moment and dim the next. The couch was floating backwards and forwards as if she was at sea, pitching and rolling, the pictures on the wall jiggling from side to side.

  She was aware of Ken smirking at her as he put his cell phone to his ear, and Simon staggering back into the lounge before keeling over and collapsing on the floor. Then, everything went black.

  The clang of a metal gate and a draft of cool air brought Amie to her senses. Dizzy and disorientated she couldn’t work out why she was hanging upside down, her arms swinging loose and her nose bumping against something hot and sweaty. It took her several moments to realise that someone was carrying her over his shoulder, but it wasn’t Ken, she could hear him whispering in Zulu to the man who held her in a fireman’s lift. Her head was thumping, her heart beating off the scale but the rest of her body felt floppy and out of control. She could hear the footsteps of the men and she smelled familiar, but as yet unidentified odours. She recognised the sound of rushing water and the wind rustling in the trees, and she thought she must be hallucinating when the sound of barking reached her ears. A sea lion? No, that couldn’t be right. She could smell the sea, and fish. Yes, the strange yet familiar odour was fish, but they weren’t on the sand, or next to the ocean so where were they? Not that it mattered very much, she was helpless, unable to even flex her fingers, the pounding in her head was getting worse and she had no feeling in her legs at all.

  While Amie was not fat by any means, the man carrying her was breathing hard, finding it an effort, and when they began to climb some steps the rank smell from the sweat on his body made Amie feel nauseous. She glanced from side to side, she could see dim lights reflected off the puddles on the paving stones and the lower half of the legs of the man who was carrying her. Nothing made any sense.

  She was eventually dragged off the man’s shoulder and someone she thought might be Ken grabbed her under the armpits while the other man crushed her ankles together and she was yanked up a metal staircase. At least for a few moments she was the right way up, but she was loath to open her eyes in case they noticed she’d come to. Maybe, just maybe she’d have an opportunity to fight back, if only her body wasn’t so floppy. She bit down hard on her tongue, willing herself to wake up and get her strength back, but all she felt was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.