Beau walked into the art department.
Devon struggled not to sound breathless when she spoke. “What did Jace say about the stone?”
“Not much.” Beau took hold of Devon’s hand and placed the stone in her palm with a gentle touch before he protectively curled her fingers around it. “Take good care of it. You don’t want to lose it.” He brought her clenched fist to his lips and brushed a little kiss against her hand.
A warm tremor shimmied up her spine. She stared into Beau’s eyes, suddenly unable to look away. Why didn’t the rest of the world see how wonderful this man was? Errant words slipped past her lips before they could be censored. “Would you like to go to lunch with me someday—just to talk?”
“I thought you didn’t get involved with coworkers.” Beau’s long, golden lashes flicked upward.
She already knew, but asked anyway. “Who told you that?”
“There you are.” Jace strode into Devon’s cubicle wearing a handsome silk shirt so dark a shade of emerald it was almost black. He plunked down a packet of flight vouchers and travel documents onto her desk. “There’s a travelers’ aid shot clinic on Ash Street, and if you leave now, you can get most of the immunizations during your lunch hour.”
“Why?” She stared at the vouchers in disbelief. The magazine’s budget had been whittled to straw. No one’s travel was comped.
Jace grinned. “You’re going to Amboseli National Park, Kenya. Actually, the park is near the border of Tanzania. Be sure to bring your Scherberg camera with you and take lots of pictures. Scherberg Corporation is sponsoring this little photo safari.”
Oh my God! This was life-changing. Her dream was coming true, and in such a bizarre way. Work was handing her this assignment? Unheard of. “Kenya? Tanzania? That’s where Mount Kilimanjaro is!” Her gaze drifted toward Beau. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
Looking guilty, Beau shrugged. “You deserve it, and I’m happy for you.”
How sweet! And Beau had pretended her stone had something to do with Mount Kilimanjaro. Maybe he recommended her for the assignment and this was a cute way of surprising her? What an angel he was. She reached for his hand. “Beau, if you had something to do with me getting the assignment, you should say so and take credit.”
Beau’s eyes flashed with joy before immediately looking away. “It wasn’t me.”
A blinding smile lit Jace’s face. “Don’t I get credit for anything? I saw that sponsorship going to waste and funneled it right into your hands.”
Her mind raced. “Is this for real? I’m really being given a paid photo expedition?” Devon’s gaze darted between both men. She hoped to get some clue that this was a prank or a mistake, but saw nothing suspicious on either man’s face. This was too good to be true and right in line with wacky Witch Casey’s prediction. So much so it was a bit terrifying. “When do I leave?”
“As soon as you get your immunizations and pack.” Jace reached out and lightly brushed Devon’s arm with his fingertips. “I’ve been to both Kenya and Tanzania. You’re going to love it.”
She smiled at Jace and Beau. Seeing the two of them standing together and beaming with happiness for her was almost too much. “I know there’s something going on here that I don’t understand, but I want to say thank you. I really appreciate it. This trip means so much to me. It’s my dream come true.” Had she told others in the office about her ambitions? She must have, but couldn’t remember when that would have happened.
They both smiled.
Jace tapped Beau’s shoulder. “My printer and my laptop have stopped speaking to each other. Can you do something about it?”
Beau blushed furiously. “Sure.”
Both men walked away and left her feeling like she was dreaming as she tidied her desk and made an appointment with the travelers’ aid clinic.
On her way to the clinic, she called her mom. In past months, taking care of her mother had been her main focus, and she was proud of it. Hell, with all the overtime she pulled, and flying back and forth between coasts, sometimes weekly for her mother’s chemo, there had been no time or energy to restart her own life. But that would change. Annie’s prognosis looked good; she was stronger than ever. “Mom, guess what?” She pushed the lobby door open and exited the building. Cool, moist air bathed her face. “I’m going on a photo safari to Amboseli National Park!”
“What?” Annie squealed.
“It’s at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro.”
“I know where it is, honey. How are you paying for this? You don’t have that many frequent flyer miles.”
She laughed. “The magazine is sending me.”
“You?” Annie sounded incredulous. “By yourself? Will you be safe?”
Oh no. She knew that tone all too well. As an only child, she’d been both coddled and burdened by her mother’s overprotective streak her entire life. “Yes, me. I can handle it.” Even as she said it, she wondered if it was true.
Annie sounded anxious. “When do you leave?”
The street was crowded with people bustling to catch a tram, a train, or a break. “I’m not sure, but soon.”
“Is your passport up to date? That can take six weeks, you know.”
A slow-moving group of pedestrians blocked the entrance to the BART subway. “I’m good.”
“What about shots?”
“I’m on my way to the travelers’ clinic now.”
“Some of those shots need to be taken in a series.”
Sometimes her mother treated her like she was two instead of thirty-two. “I know, Mom. I’ll plan accordingly. I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid, it’s just this is a big trip. Africa is so far away, and….”
Here it comes, worry topped with more worry. “And what?”
“It’s a big unknown!”
“Not to the people who live there. Mom, aren’t you curious? I’ve always wanted this. It’s my dream.” She braced for the motherly dire warnings about spiders the size of kittens, parasites in the drinking water, or the threat of a political coup.
“I’m so happy for you, Devi. Especially after all you did for me this past year. You deserve this.”
“Really?” She was so stunned by her mother’s acceptance of the situation, she stepped off the curb and was nearly clipped by a man on a bicycle as he whizzed past. “I sort of thought you might try to talk me out of it.”
“Devi, you will always be braver than me. I’m so proud of you. Have an adventure. Take some chances. Live your life. I want you to do it.”
The words were so sincere and unexpected, she almost cried. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Bye, Devi. I have to run.”
“Bye.” She clicked the phone off. Her mother had changed for the better. Perhaps her brush with mortality had lightened her anxieties. For so many years it had been just her and her mother against the world. How she used to long to be part of a large, loud family and live in a home crowded with many different personalities and lots of love.
Across the street, she caught sight of a little girl clutching her mother’s hand, and her thoughts drifted.
Devon had a few vivid memories of her father, but they grew dimmer each year. Professor Tavin Mitchell had had a silly sense of humor, tousled ginger hair with a touch of silver, a broad smile with a slight overbite, and he had suffered a massive heart attack and died when she was only six. Afterward, her and her mother’s lives had changed drastically.
One memory that remained clear, largely due to its emotional charge and the many times her mother had recounted it, was a decisive day in a lawyer’s office.
The morning had started foggy and cool, and she’d been forced to wear fussy ribbons in her hair, her best heavy coat, tights, and a woolen dress that felt uncomfortably warm inside the overheated space. By her childish reckoning, they’d been there forever, and she was incredibly bored. Looking for distractions, she’d briefly break free of her mother’s lap, only to be scooped into Annie’s arms an
d held tight in place.
Annie made an appeal to the lawyer. “Mr. Breck, are you sure Elizabeth is coming? We’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
“I’m sure she’ll come.” Mr. Breck was a stout man with a steel-gray toupee that sat too far forward on his head and looked like a diving board. “It’s to her advantage to settle with you now and not drag things out.”
Her mother appeared uneasy. “Can’t you do more for me and Devon? As Tavin’s only child, doesn’t Devon have some rights?”
“Devon has rights.” Breck nodded. “But they are limited to what an illegitimate child not named in a will can claim.”
Annie raised her hand in anger. “We were married!”
“A provisional ceremony in Mexico with no existing paperwork filed in the US.” Mr. Breck sounded snappish. “Unfortunately, the divorce from the original Mrs. Mitchell was never finalized, so it’s a moot point.”
“It’s not a moot point.” Annie hugged Devon so tightly, Devon could barely breathe. “The week I found out I was pregnant, we went to Cancun to get married. Doesn’t that prove clear intent? Tavin was a loving man. He meant for Devon and me to be provided for.”
Breck looked away. “I’m sure he loved you very much, but Mr. Mitchell never updated his will, and his first wife, Elizabeth Mitchell, never signed the divorce papers. The properties are hers. The bulk of Mr. Mitchell’s estate is in the UK and subject to a much higher rate of taxation. Those are the facts, so let’s concentrate on what can be done for you.”
Her mother almost shook her. “This is flesh and blood. I’m a single mother now. How am I going to raise this child in San Francisco on a teacher’s salary?”
With his head tipped down, Mr. Breck stared over the top of his glasses. “We can help you locate a more affordable apartment in Oakland.”
Annie tensed. “So, Elizabeth is selling the townhouse? Terrific. She already has homes in London, Madrid, and Cornwall. Would she at least consider leasing the townhouse for a reasonable fee while Devon is living at home?”
“No.” Mr. Breck frowned. “Mrs. Mitchell was quite unmovable on the subject.”
“I’m Mrs. Mitchell.” Annie tapped her chest. “I should be Mrs. Mitchell. Tavin and Elizabeth had been living separate lives for years. For God’s sake, Tavin was only forty-six!” Every moment that passed, she sounded more desperate. “He was in great shape and cycled to campus every day. He thought he had years to figure this stuff out, and to be honest, he was convinced he’d outlive Elizabeth. Tavin said, ‘Liz is a drop-to-the-floor drunk and smokes like a fucking chimney!’”
The door opened. “I’m here!” An elegantly dressed but aloof woman walked into the office and unbuttoned her impeccably tailored tweed jacket. “Hello, Mr. Breck. I think you should know that your office walls are rather thin. Voices carry.” Elizabeth’s attention turned to Annie and Devon, and her cold, gray eyes narrowed to slits. “So, you’re Tavin’s black mistress. Finally we meet face-to-face. I suppose I can see what the attraction was.” She leaned over Devon. “And this is his little walk on the wild side.” Elizabeth squinted. “She has Tavin’s freckles. How charming.” Her smile grew taut. “Don’t worry. I’m not a complete bitch. I’m not going to deprive little Devon of necessary child support. But I’m not going to give you a penny more than I legally have to. Your needs will be met, and the money will be delivered responsibly, a trickle at a time.” She turned to Mr. Breck. “Tavin was so sloppy with legalities. Let’s make sure matters are handled properly this time. Please write up a trust, naming me as the executor in charge of Devon’s financial welfare.”
4
The flight to Africa was daunting. The sponsorship only paid for coach, which meant Devon was squeezed between other passengers in a long row of seats, far from the window, which was just fine with her.
Despite her ultralight adventure, when she’d had a goal and some semblance of control, she found heights deeply disturbing. Especially when the clouds parted to reveal jagged landscapes or endless vistas of plane-swallowing ocean. In short, a window would have been wasted on her.
Her legs and lower back ached, and she longed to stand or move around, but every time she stood or attempted a yoga stretch in the aisle, a beverage cart appeared or others crowded past, shooing her back into her assigned seat. Plus the man seated next to her seemed to be out of patience with her fidgeting, so Devon stayed put as much as possible.
A little inconvenience now would be worth it later. She’d been promised that the accommodations on the edge of Amboseli National Park would be authentically rustic, devoid of all modern amenities, but comfortable. She would become one with nature and experience Africa the way Victorian explorers had, except she wouldn’t be strolling through the foothills of Kilimanjaro carrying a silver-handled parasol and a loaded pistol. She’d have an expensive digital camera in one hand and the steering wheel of a wildly bouncing Jeep in the other, neither of which was very Victorian.
For days, she’d been fantasizing obsessively about Jace and Beau, which wasn’t in line with chaste Victorian sensibilities either. God help her, she wanted them both all to herself. Nasty, sweet fantasies hijacked her thoughts at every turn and tempted her to daydream a thousand times a day about having two men take her to the ultimate heights.
She’d never actually had the pleasure of two men at once. Hell, it had been forever since she’d had one. The sheer ecstasy of two lovers would probably kill her. Her neglected libido needed release so badly, she ached. She crossed her legs, squirmed in the plane’s narrow seat, and bumped the man next to her with her knee.
The robust gentleman seated beside her huffed impatiently and gave her a dirty look as he shifted his laptop away from her. “Would you like to switch seats with me?” he said sarcastically. “You seem to be spending a lot of time on my side of the armrest.”
Devon offered a tense smile. Excitement about the trip and so many things made it impossible to sit still. She’d lost count of how many times she’d bumped her seatmate. “I’m sorry.”
The man ignored her apology.
Snob. They had only been tiny bumps, little more than gentle nudges. She’d been a good sport for putting up with his ripe underarms and sneaky beer farts through several time zones. So what if she bumped him a little now and then? For God’s sake, they were packed into coach like cattle.
A flight attendant pushed a beverage cart down the aisle.
“Miss!” The gentleman cast his heavy arm across Devon’s face to hail the exhausted-looking attendant as she approached.
The attendant stopped.
The man offered the flight attendant a weak grin. “May I have another beer? Corona please.”
Uhh. More beer farts. Devon closed her eyes and thought ahead to Africa. Soon she’d have the opportunity to capture rare wildlife with her camera. Not many people could say that.
She’d always wanted the opportunity to photograph the so-called “big five” on the African veld, and now the chance was finally here. With her trusty camera tucked safely under the seat, which was far too precious to relinquish to the cargo hold, life was going to get a lot more exciting. She vowed to take as many risks as possible to get high-quality, exciting pictures the world would marvel over when they debuted. When she returned from this trip, International Explorer—and hopefully the rest of the world—would see her true potential. Jace and that sweetheart, Beau, would be so proud of the work she’d bring to the magazine.
Amboseli National Park was in the middle of nowhere. Internet service for her laptop and cell phone would be iffy, and as far as she knew, running water wasn’t available. The camp where she would be staying had its water hand-delivered to each hut by the jug. A battery-powered generator to charge the cameras was the only modern convenience offered. She was going to rough it and make it work to her advantage.
The plane’s engines droned in the background. Devon allowed her thoughts to drift, and the man beside her sipped his beer and quietly hiccupped. She wante
d to concentrate on the upcoming trip to the sunny green plains of Amboseli National Park, but her thoughts kept errantly wandering toward Jace and Beau instead.
In the past few days, both men had paid her far more attention than usual. They hovered near her at the office like mother hens. At any given moment of the workday, at least one of them had been devising some reason or another to be within her line of sight. How they got any work accomplished was a mystery.
Beau had brought her coffee and dropped by her desk to chat, or contented himself with looking at her longingly from a distance with his big, innocent eyes.
Jace found frequent excuses to strut through the art department like a territorial tiger on the prowl. He watched her with a brooding, slightly possessive gaze obviously designed to frighten other men away, but why? He hadn’t been making any moves.
They both seemed genuinely excited for her about this trip, but neither actually asked her out or made any sort of social plans for after her return. Damn them.
Not that there had been an hour to spare getting ready for a major trip on short notice. She didn’t understand what the hell was going on with those two, but she loved it, and could give herself butterflies just thinking about it.
Devon crossed her thighs and bumped the man beside her. A bit of beer sloshed over the rim of the glass. Now she’d done it. He’d go enraged grizzly bear on her. “I’m sorry!”
Recoiling as if a damp and slimy thing had brushed his leg, the man huffed. “Again?”
“It won’t happen anymore. I promise.” She drew her knees close and maintained the prim stance until her legs ached. In contrast to her physical discomfort, pleasurable thoughts returned. Soon, she imagined the thrill of undressing in front of Jace or Beau—or both. Why not both? It was just a fantasy. Would she have the courage to be bold and give them a good show? For them, it would be worth putting inhibitions aside. She’d take her sweet time about undressing too, and tease the hell out of them with her soft curves.
How great would that be, to arch back on the mattress while two sets of adoring hands and two warm, solid bodies competed to get between her thighs? Would she go crazy when one or both stroked her breasts and begged to suck her nipples? She was going to drench herself dreaming about it. Her foot tapped the man’s leg.
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