by Lisa Harris
“Bullheaded?” Kate suggested.
“I was thinking more independent, but bullheaded works.”
“Yes, but she’s fantastic to work with. She’s creative, funny, focused…”
He followed Kate toward the reception area of the lodge that was decorated with woven baskets and life-size wooden carvings of monkeys, turtles and warthogs. A group of tourists were climbing into one of the vehicles, cameras and extra lenses in hand, for a night safari in the bush. There were more people around than he’d expected. And any one of them could be responsible for their crash earlier.
He couldn’t worry about that now. He had other things to do. He needed to get the key to his room and check with the airport to see if they would deliver his suitcase tomorrow. Otherwise, the one extra set of clothes he’d packed in his carry-on was going to have to be supplemented by a few souvenir shirts and shorts in the gift shop.
“What’s her story?” he asked as they approached the front desk, hoping he might discover something beyond what Meghan had told him.
“Meghan’s? She grew up as an only child, divorced parents, boarding schools—she comes by her independence naturally.”
He might have just met Meghan, but something about her intrigued him. She was down-to-earth, witty and passionate, which made a refreshing change from most of the women his friends had tried to set him up with lately.
“What about you?” Kate leaned against the polished wooden counter. “We usually eat dinner together about this time in the restaurant. Care to join me and tell me a little more about yourself?”
Alex took his key from the receptionist and weighed his options. Hungry or not, he wasn’t here to socialize. His first priority was to keep an eye on Meghan, a task that was proving to be far from easy. Which meant for starters he needed to find out where she was staying. “I’d love to, but jet lag is starting to hit hard. I’ve got a granola bar and trail mix that will hold me over until tomorrow. Which way to my chalet?”
Kate looked at his key and pointed to her right. “You’re number five. The staff chalets are all located straight down that path a hundred yards or so. I’m number two if you need anything.”
“And Meghan?” He caught a hint of amusement in her eyes at the question and tried to cover his tracks. “Just in case I need something and can’t find you.”
“Of course. She’s in number seven.”
“Great. Thanks.”
On his way out, he paused at an aerial photo of the Chizoba Safari Lodge and its adjoining game reserve. Besides the two-dozen luxury chalets with thatched roofs for guests that overlooked the grassy veld, there was a restaurant, bar, day spa, activity center and swimming pool. It was all very impressive. But he wasn’t here to enjoy a vacation.
Alex headed in the direction of the chalet where he’d be staying. Somehow he was going to have to find a way to keep tabs on Meghan without her thinking he was stalking her. Because, in his eyes, everything that had happened today had only confirmed her father’s fears.
Halfway down the paved walkway, the power went out, throwing him into pitch darkness. Great. Alex stopped midstride, surprised at how dark it was. No lights meant there was no way he was going to find his cabin. He stood in the middle of the path and made a mental note to carry a flashlight with him if it turned out that power outages were the norm. Which they probably were.
Poachers, charging rhinos, failing brakes… It was as if he’d stepped into a different reality where, on top of everything else, beautiful women like Meghan had somehow managed to yank his heartstrings.
Alex heard the scream from where he stood.
Meghan?
He squinted, but his eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the darkness. Silence followed. He didn’t have a choice but to try to find her. A dozen yards later, he ran smack-dab into something—or somebody. He heard her scream again as he tripped and landed on the ground beside her.
He rolled onto his side and groaned. “Meghan?”
“Alex? What in the world are you doing here?” Funny. It was the same question he’d asked himself a dozen times the past twelve hours.
“I heard a scream,” he answered.
“It was me. Sorry. Just help me up. Please.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just…tripped.”
“I—”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Right.”
His arms were still around her as the moon came out from behind the clouds, giving him just enough light so he could see her expression. A mixture of pain and embarrassment filled her eyes.
“You okay? Anything else hurt?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He pushed back a strand of hair from her forehead, his other arm still around her waist. “Whoa. You’ve got a goose egg here.”
She felt the spot on the edge of her scalp. “I must have hit my head when I fell.”
He found himself not wanting to let go of her as she took a step back.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The lights went out, and like I said, I tripped.”
“That’s it?”
The lights came back on, this time completely illuminating her face. Wide eyes, furrowed brow, a frown and yet somehow undeniably adorable. He reined in his train of thought.
“As much as I don’t want to admit it,” she began, “Kate was right. I’m a bit accident-prone.”
“So this was just an accident?” He wasn’t sure he believed her.
“The lights went out. I tried to make it to my cabin and tripped.”
Alex glanced around him. They were past the row of chalets. From what he could see, the path continued on toward the watering hole.
“You’re past your cabin.”
She started walking back up the path. “You’d think I was paranoid if I told you that I thought someone was following me.”
Alex felt a wave of alarm strike. “Meghan, what happened?”
“Nothing. I heard a noise and went to investigate. It was probably just a baboon or someone on their way to their chalet.”
“Tell me exactly what you heard.”
“I don’t know, just some rustling in the bushes. Like I said, it was probably nothing. It’s been a long day and I’m tired, which means I’m imagining things. Someone I know has put ideas of sabotage in my head.”
“I’m sorry, but it seems a bit coincidental. First the brakes on the Jeep give out, and now you think someone was following you? Not to mention the thing that Kate brought up.”
Meghan laughed. “Please, you sound just like my father. He’s convinced that there is an evil plot behind everything. The Jeep’s brakes failed because the vehicle is old and the mechanic somehow missed it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
For a moment he considered simply telling her the truth. It seemed ridiculous to hide things from her, but he had made a promise. He’d call the ambassador tonight, update him on the situation and advise him that Meghan be told what was going on.
She stopped in front of one of the chalets. Number seven.
“This is your place?”
“Home, sweet home.”
He moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist as she started up the stairs that looked as if they could use a bit of repair themselves.
“I can get up the stairs on my own.”
She pulled back, but he only tightened his grip. “And take the chance of falling again? I don’t think so.”
“Alex.”
“No arguing.” He helped her up the stairs and stopped at front of the door before giving her the space she wanted and he needed. “I want you to promise me one more thing.”
“What is that?”
“Lock your door tonight.”
“You’re being paranoid again.”
“I just want you to be smart—and safe. If there are poachers around, like you said, it’s worth being prudent.” He caught the doubt in her eyes. �
��Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Good.”
He took a step backward—physically and emotionally. He wasn’t going to let himself get too attached. Not this time. Not again. His only plan was to keep Meghan safe for the ambassador until the election was over in two weeks, and then he was going to leave.
Until then, maintaining distance would help him do his job effectively. It would make Meghan safer. And it would help him protect the heart he never wanted to put at risk again.
*
Thirty minutes later, Alex finally got through to her father. “Ambassador Jordan. This is Alex Markham.”
“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Is my daughter okay?”
“Yes, but now that I’m here, I believe that in order for me to effectively do my job, I need to tell your daughter the truth—”
“No. Please. You promised me you wouldn’t tell her anything.”
“I don’t think you understand, Ambassador. Meghan is…independent. I can and will do everything I can to ensure she is safe, but without her knowledge of who I am and how she’s at risk, there is only so much I can do. I can’t find a reason to be with her twenty-four hours a day.”
“I need you to do this without her knowing.” His voice softened. “If she finds out, I’ll lose her. I’ve already dragged her into many dangerous situations. She’ll blame me for messing up this job. For always interfering.”
“You’re not going to lose her, sir. She knows you love her.”
“Has something happened to make you think the men who contacted me are making good on their threats?”
“At this point, I’m not sure.” Alex hesitated. Everything that had taken place could be explained away as coincidence, just like Meghan believed, but if she was wrong…
“The brakes went out on our vehicle today. She’s certain that maintenance missed the problem. The terrain is rough here, and I can’t be sure that this was related to the threats you’ve received.”
“But it could be related to the threats, and you know it.”
“Either way, let me tell her the truth.”
“Not yet. Just promise me you’ll take care of her. Because if I lose Meghan, I lose everything. Please, Alex. I’m trusting you to take care of my daughter.”
Ice shot through Alex at the memory of another family who had trusted him with their daughter. He’d let that family down. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—fail again.
“I’ll do everything I can to keep Meghan safe, sir. You have my word.”
FOUR
Meghan lay wide awake in her bed, listening to the familiar sounds of the African night. Lightning flashed in the distanced, followed by the fierce rumble of thunder sweeping across the terrain. At the moment, she was unsure if it was the light show, her throbbing knee or her growing frustration over what had happened tonight that was keeping her awake.
She couldn’t believe she’d gotten so worried about the danger of poachers at the lodge that she’d added a head wound to her twisted knee. It was pure nonsense to believe she was in any personal danger—she never should have let herself believe otherwise.
She rolled over onto her other side, trying to find a more comfortable position. Something tapped against the window. In the darkened room, all she could see were shadows. The wind had picked up. She could hear the branches of the trees creaking above the thatched chalet roof. That was making the tapping noise—a branch.
Tap…tap…tap…
Meghan swallowed hard. Or she could be wrong. Something—or someone—could be outside her chalet.
She tried to shake off the ridiculous thought. She was being paranoid like Mr. Cowboy. He’d swept in like a tornado, worried about everything and blaming the accident in the Jeep on sabotage. Seriously? The man must have an overactive imagination. The only enemy the reservation had was poachers. With security beefed up after their recent attack, they’d be foolish to strike again. Yes, she’d found the same cigarette butts, but that didn’t really mean anything. More than likely hundreds of people smoked that brand. Finding them again was nothing more than another coincidence.
But still…
Meghan rolled over again, then worked to untangle herself from the sheet while trying to tame her nerves. The hide needed to be upgraded—it was hardly surprising that it had collapsed on her. And as for the brakes on the Jeep, she’d heard Samuel mention to Ian just last week that they were going to need to do some repairs on the vehicles. It was only to be expected that the combination of neglect and her clumsiness would equal disaster.
No, recent events were nothing more than a run of bad luck—if she believed in bad luck, which she didn’t. Hopefully, it would be a reminder to Ian of the importance of maintenance. He’d become overtaxed with the threat of poachers, hiring extra guards and trying to stay in the black despite the fragile economy, which had led him to cut corners. But even though repairs had fallen by the wayside, she should feel safer knowing the reserve was actually well prepared against potential poachers.
Tap…tap…tap…crash…
She flung off her covers and grabbed for her flashlight. Until she figured out what was out there, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. She moved to the window, pushed back the flimsy curtains, then squinted across the dimly lit wooded area surrounding the row of chalets. Mr. Cowboy had stirred her imagination, making her believe whatever was out there was more than just a baboon or one of the dozens of scavenging nocturnal animals.
Meghan peered into the darkness. Shadows danced in the moonlight. Trees swayed in the wind. If she let her imagination run wild, she could easily come up with a dozen unsavory explanations of what might be roaming through the bush. She wouldn’t let that happen. There was nothing out there that shouldn’t be out there.
But still…
She pulled on a pair of shorts, unlocked the front door, then stepped gingerly out onto the wooden porch. The wind was picking up and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. In the next hour or so, the storm would hit the lodge. That was surely enough to keep away any wannabe poachers. She held her breath for a moment, trying not to make any noise. With her luck lately, the “intruder” would probably turn out to be some cranky old baboon wanting access to the bowl of fruit sitting on her tiny kitchen counter.
She reached down to rub the top of her throbbing knee before walking down the wooden steps leading from the porch, wincing when the last one creaked. It had already been close to five hours since she’d taken a pain pill. Definitely time for a couple more. Another ice pack couldn’t hurt, either, and she probably should take one of her over-the-counter sleeping pills.
She shone her flashlight into the trees, where she was most likely to find a troop of baboons or vervet monkeys, or a bush baby.
Nothing.
She yawned, clicked off her flashlight, then headed back up the stairs to her chalet. If she didn’t get some sleep, she was going to regret it tomorrow. And tomorrow she wasn’t going to let Mr. Cowboy get between her and her filming.
A missed flight, flat tire, chased by a rhino and the accident with the Jeep… And he thought she was the one with the string of bad luck?
Something rustled in the bushes to her left. Meghan paused. She retraced her way down the stairs. Eying the row of bushes, she backed up a couple steps, then slammed into something solid. And warm.
She spun around, her heart pounding as she wrenched her knee in the process.
“Ouch!”
“Meghan?”
The silhouette of Mr. Cowboy appeared out of nowhere.
“Alex? You scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry.”
A porcupine dashed into the bushes and out of sight.
“What was that?”
“A porcupine.”
“It sounded bigger.”
“It’s harmless,” she assured him. “For the most part, anyway. What I want to know is, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
He flipped on
his flashlight and shone it on the ground between them. She tried to read his expression in the shadows and caught a fleeting hint of surprise. Or maybe it was guilt.
“I heard a noise and came out here to investigate.”
She didn’t buy his excuse. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, out in the Africa bush that is filled with nocturnal animals, and you had to investigate because you heard a noise?”
“I could ask you the same question. Why are you out here?”
She pressed her lips together, then frowned. He was throwing her off. She was tired and her leg hurt, and he…he exasperated her.
She could always send him back to the U.S. She’d tried to call her project leader, Karen Barns, on her cell phone before going to bed but hadn’t been able to get through. She was definitely going to call again and find out why in the world they’d sent someone with little to no experience in either making a documentary or the African bush.
She was a documentary film producer, not a babysitter. If he couldn’t carry his weight, she’d have no choice but to send him back on the next fight out of South Africa. Which at this point was sounding more and more like a good idea.
“Okay.” She might as well confess. “I heard something I didn’t recognize. And I was right. It was you.”
“I knocked over one of the pots. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She didn’t bother to explain that he hadn’t woken her. That she’d been lying awake the past hour thinking about how she needed to finish up the documentary. Thinking about how uncomfortable the recent string of accidents made her. Thinking about how Mr. Cowboy had swept into her life…
She shoved away that last thought. They might have more in common than she’d expected, but that didn’t mean she was ready for Prince Charming to sweep in or that she’d even know what to do with him if he did. She wasn’t built for relationships.
“I was having trouble sleeping, heard something tapping on my window, then a crash, and decided to see what it was.” Now that she knew it was him, she wished she’d simply stayed inside. There was no physical danger out here for her to explore—just increased danger to her peace of mind.
*
