Coral had just started on her way toward a familiar market village when a car rumbled up. There was the grinding sound of breaks, doors opened and shut, then the bright shaft of torchlight shining in her face and dazzling her. “Over here,” shouted an authoritative voice she recognized. “Over here! Bring out the stretcher for the man — I’ll take care of her.” A wave of dizziness and nausea swept through Coral, and she faltered before her legs folded beneath her. Strong arms lifted her up swiftly. “Hang on in there, rosebud. I’m here now; I’m in charge,” she heard Rafe say, and then came the black hole of oblivion.
* * *
When Coral came to, she was lying on a narrow bed in an unfamiliar room. It was dark save for a weak shaft of moonlight filtering through the opened window. Her head ached, just across her temple, and she still felt a little squeamish. She struggled to lift herself up, but fell back limply onto the pillows.
“Hey, don’t you dare move!” Rafe’s command was sharp and concise. In a flash, he was by her side, feeling her pulse.
“Playing doctor, again?” she asked, regretting her words as soon as they were out. She should be grateful instead of being sarcastic, and Rafe’s grim face told her that he was not amused. “Where am I?” she asked, attempting a brave smile.
“In the lion’s den.”
“I’m sorry,” she said as tears blurred her view. “I’ve been a real nuisance, haven’t I?”
“Shush, stop talking and go to sleep.” Rafe’s face was set, his features closed as he crept away.
“Rafe?” Her voice was weak, almost inaudible. He stopped dead in his shoes and turned, drifting back to stand next to the bed. Coral gazed up at him, regarding him anxiously. “How did you know where to find us?”
“When you did not turn up for dinner, Lady Langley was worried. I had just arrived from Nairobi where I’d been on business. She told me that you had gone off with Dale to take some pictures of animals at one of the nearby game reserves. I was worried that something might have happened, so I took a search party along the most likely road to the closest reserve, and would have gone further until I’d found you. But you weren’t so far away from the plantation after all, just a few miles, and when I saw the headlight shining up toward the trees, I knew I’d been fortunate.”
“What did we hit?”
“An antelope.” Rafe smiled, his face holding a mixture of amusement and concern. “Don’t worry, rosebud, you’re in good hands. We transported you both to this clinic. It belongs to Dr. Frank Giles, a friend of mine and a reliable doctor. The hospital was too far. You’re in a flat attached to the main clinic.”
“And Dale?” Coral saw a twinge of irritation flicker across Rafe’s face.
“Dale is all right. You were both very lucky to get away with concussion and a few minor scratches and bruises. You’ve banged your head — nothing serious, though, just a nasty graze. Frank has given you a sedative to ease the pain, so that’s probably why you feel drowsy. You’ll be better after a good night’s sleep.” Rafe’s tone was warm and soothing as he tried to dispel her fears. “We’ll keep you here under observation for twenty-four hours, just to make sure everything’s all right. We sent word to the plantation so they wouldn’t worry. There, now, does that answer all your questions and set your mind at rest?”
Coral parted her lips to speak, but his fingers brushed her cheek in a soft caress. “Shush, rosebud. Sleep now. Tomorrow we shall talk.”
She nodded and shut her eyes, filled with a sense of safety and of peace.
That night was a turbulent one for Coral, with nightmares of wild monsters chasing after her up and down ravines, around dense forests, and into deep oceans, where Rafe could not reach her. She heard herself cry out his name a few times as she drifted in and out of sleep; often she felt his presence beside her, mopping her damp brow, handing her a glass of water, his voice soothing and reassuring.
Coral woke up the following afternoon. The shutters were pulled together, but bright sunlight seeped through its narrow vents. The easy chair next to the bed was empty. She had a vague recollection of Rafe’s presence during the night as she had swum in and out of consciousness. Coral lifted herself and managed to sit up. Her head was a little painful; still, she lowered her feet to the ground and tried to stand. Black spots danced in her vision, and she fell back pathetically onto the pillows with a small groan.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” Rafe had shot into the room and was glowering down at her. Coral glared back, her frustration beginning to rise. “You can look at me with that stormy expression all you like; I’m not letting you out of bed,” he said gruffly.
“I feel better. I want to get up. Besides, I need to get out of these clothes. I feel dirty,” she said, embarrassed and annoyed at her own helplessness. Rafe looked tired, his features drawn, a day’s stubble throwing a blue shadow over the sculptured jaw. He obviously hadn’t slept since yesterday.
“You’re still weak. You should have called out.”
“Where’s the nurse? I need some clean clothes. Where’s the doctor?” Coral hated having him standing there, and pride and vanity got the better of her, making her snap at him.
Dark eyebrows went up. “There is no nurse and there is no doctor at the moment.” Rafe regarded her with amusement.
“I thought — ”
He interrupted her impatiently. “Aluna came by this morning and brought you a clean set of clothes.”
Coral’s face brightened up with relief. “Where is Aluna?” she asked.
“The poor woman was really beside herself with worry. You know how agitated she can become. But she was making an exhibition of herself, and there’s no need for that sort of outburst around here. She was told to leave the clothes and was sent back to the plantation.”
“Who sent her back?” Coral suddenly felt a desperate need for her old yaha.
“I did,” he confirmed rather tersely.
Coral nodded. “Where’s Dr. What’s-his-name?”
“Dr. Giles has gone off for his afternoon calls; he’ll be back later. But I’m here to keep an eye on you.” Rafe grinned.
“Where are my clothes?” Coral asked. “I need to shower.”
“They’re right here.” Rafe opened a cupboard and took out the things Aluna had dropped off together with some other belongings. “At the risk of disappointing you, I must tell you that there is no shower, even though this is a clinic. You’re not in England now. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re in the boondocks here. We’re lucky to have running water today,” he added curtly.
Coral gritted her teeth and lifted her chin. “I’m getting dressed,” she said determinately.
Dark brows flickered. He gave a short, derisory laugh and folded his arms, watching her. “Suit yourself.”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s at the other end of the flat. I’ll help you wash and dress, if you like, rosebud,” he suggested, shooting her a playful look.
“Never!” she exclaimed, a little too forcefully.
His eyebrows flew up. “You keep forgetting that I have studied medicine.”
“That doesn’t make you a doctor, and anyhow — ” she threw him a sarcastic look “ — I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself, thank you very much. Nice try.”
“You needn’t worry, rosebud. I don’t set my cap at the weak and helpless.”
“I’m not weak and helpless; I’m just a little shaken. You would be if you were in my place,” she retorted sharply. She picked up her clothes, thrust back the sheet, and stood up. Two steps and her head was reeling again; she faltered, gave a little groan, and would have crashed to the floor had Rafe not moved swiftly and caught her.
“Are you convinced now that you’re in no condition to move?” He laid her down gently on the bed and pulled the sheet over her. “I’ll bring you something to eat and some hot tea. We’ll take it from there,” he said in an even voice, then looked at her solemnly and walked out, leaving her alone in the
room.
Coral choked back a sob. She felt guilty about the way she was behaving, but Rafe’s provocative attitude infuriated her, making it impossible for her to act normally around him. Of course she was obligated to Rafe. He needn’t have stayed by her side at night; after all, they were virtually strangers, even if there was obviously a strong attraction between them. And despite the fact that she always felt so unnerved around him, she remembered the relief that had swept over her as she heard his voice at the scene of the accident, and then again later that night when he had tried to calm her fears. Strangely enough she felt safe in his company. His whole being reverberated authority and confidence, and even though she hated to admit to it, a part of her melted at the thought of that commanding strength.
Rafe was away for some time, leaving her to her somber thoughts. Coral could hear him whistling somewhere in the flat and wondered what was taking him so long.
“There you are, my untouchable princesse lointaine,” he said as he came back into the room, rolling in a hospital tray that he positioned over the bed in front of her. “I hope you enjoy the breakfast that I have so lovingly prepared.”
Indeed, she had to admit it was a most inviting and appetizing sight. Coral surveyed the home-made fruit salad — exotic morsels glittering like small jewels in the center of a bowl — the slice of warm toast spread with a thin layer of marmalade, the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and the cup of steaming hot tea. Everything had been arranged on a white cloth. At the far side of the tray, a tumbler with a single pink rosebud gave it the final special touch.
Coral smiled sheepishly. “Thank you,” she said, “it looks really tempting. I love fruit.”
“Well, rosebud, stop being just tempted and tuck in, for heaven’s sake,” he said cheerfully as he sank into the easy chair next to her bed. “L’appétit vient en mangeant, goes an old French proverb. ‘Appetite comes with eating.’ I’m not used to playing housewife, but if it’ll bring a smile to your pretty lips, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”
Coral ate slowly, sampling the food at first, feeling a little awkward under Rafe’s steady look. “Wouldn’t you like some?” she offered, holding out her plate. “The fruit is really delicious.”
“Watching your enjoyment suffices to make me a happy man.” She was annoyed that he was teasing her again.
“Where’s Dale?”
Rafe scoffed. “I wondered when you’d get around to asking about him.” He gave a dismissive grunt. “He was propelled out of the car, probably before it turned over, so he didn’t receive the same battering to the head that you got. I’d cheerfully have killed the son of a bitch, but Frank is averse to blood and guts. Anyway, don’t worry; your irresponsible boyfriend is actually in better shape than you are. Frank released him at noon, and he went home.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Coral snapped.
Rafe’s look stabbed her with disbelief. “No?” The word carried an almost imperceptible quaver.
“No.” Her voice was firm.
He regarded her steadily, his expression slightly skeptical, probing for an explanation.
Coral shifted uncomfortably on the bed and busied herself with the cup of tea, averting his keen scrutiny and gulping down a mouthful. “Though it’s no business of yours, I will indulge your curiosity,” she said shortly. “Dale and I were once engaged. It didn’t work out, and that’s the end of it.”
“And that’s why he followed you to Kenya?”
“Probably, but I’m not Dale’s keeper, so I had no knowledge of it. Anyhow, there’s no need to read more into it than there is. Dale and I are just friends now.”
“I see.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “Well, as you’ve told me several times, it’s no concern of mine. I’m not your keeper, and you’re old enough to look out for yourself. After all, you proved that yesterday.” He had punched beneath the belt, but Coral took the blow without a word. Was he jealous? It didn’t matter. She was tired, and this wasn’t the time for an argument. Wrenching herself from the accusing eyes, she pushed the tray away gently. “Thank you for the breakfast,” she said evenly. “I feel so much better now.”
Rafe took the table away and rolled it out of the room, his features an impassive mask. She knew that look; it had appeared only a couple of times, but enough for her to recognize it. He was brooding. Why couldn’t she and this man get along without incessantly leaping at each other’s throats? Was this what was known as a love-hate relationship? More like a hate-your-guts battle.
Rafe had been right to force her to eat something; it had given her some energy. She got out of bed and ventured through the door into a sort of reception and waiting room with a large window looking over the rolling countryside. By now the sun had dropped behind the hills, which were flushed with the clusters of red-hot pokers peeping through banks of aloes. The views of pink, purple, and blue-gray over the valley were breathtaking.
“What are you doing here?” Rafe’s stern voice broke her reverie.
“I was looking for the bathroom and stopped to admire the view. The scenery here is so striking, so impressive,” she said, hugging the set of clothes a little too tightly against her chest.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He seemed far away, his mind on other things.
Coral looked up at him. He had washed, shaved, and changed into a pair of beige chinos and a Nile-blue polo shirt. The color suited his gold-tanned skin, and the cotton molded him to perfection. Invisible fingers pinched her heart as she acknowledged once more the undeniable charisma that emanated from this man. His features were not those of an Adonis in the strict classical meaning of the word, but every pore of his lithe body exuded virility and sex. Coral cleared her throat.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right behind you.” He signaled with a toss of his head. “There’s running hot water, soap, and a set of clean towels, but no shampoo. Such luxuries are scarce around here. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with what’s available for now.” His mouth was set into a thin line, his face devoid of all expression. He had become remote, speaking to her as though they were strangers, his aloofness setting a barrier between them more effective than any wall.
It chilled her heart. A huge lump of unreleased emotion constricted her throat as Coral tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill out at any moment. She swallowed hard. “That sounds perfect, thank you,” she said flatly as she scurried off to wash and get dressed.
Once in the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. The graze on her forehead had been cleaned and was starting to heal, forming an ugly crust. Washing and drying it would not be an easy task. It was awkward washing her hair and face over the sink, but once she had managed it, she dried her head with a towel and pulled her hair back into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She could not disguise the scar. Well, it could not be helped; this would have to do for now. Coral took her time, running the soap smoothly on her neck, around her breasts, on her stomach, between her thighs. The warm water on her skin was bliss, washing away the tension of the past twenty-four hours. For a few moments, she forgot about Rafe and the bitter chilliness that had frozen up her heart. She welcomed the clean underwear and clothes that Aluna had brought down. Bless her, everything was there: toothbrush, comb, the little bag of makeup, and even a bottle of her favorite scent.
When she came back out of the bathroom half an hour later, Rafe was not alone. “Ah, there you are,” he said with a polite smile that appeared alien on him. “This is Dr. Giles, my old friend.”
Frank Giles was tall, lean, and blond; he was attractive without being particularly handsome. His forbearers must have been Scandinavian, Coral thought. Pale blue eyes surveyed her kindly as she looked up at the man standing beside Rafe. “I hope you’re feeling better,” he said, his face breaking into a warm smile, putting her immediately at ease.
“Yes, I am.” She returned his smile. “Thank you for putting me up and looking after me so well.”
&nb
sp; “I’m afraid this place is not very modern. We keep things to a bare minimum, but it’s effective. We do our best.” He sounded apologetic, and Coral felt obliged to reassure him.
“Really, I’ve been very comfortable, and Rafe has been most attentive.” Coral glanced at Rafe, and for a split second she thought the chill in his expression had vanished — or was that her fancy playing tricks?
“The bump on your head seems to have gone down, and the graze, I see, is healing nicely. I will need to look at it once again, just to make sure that it doesn’t get infected. I assume your vaccinations are up to date?”
“Oh, yes, yes. I travel a lot so I need to be careful. I may get myself into scrapes from time to time, but I’m very reasonable when it comes to keeping those things in order.” She smiled weakly, and they laughed.
“Frank will drive you back to the plantation,” Rafe broke in. “I had a previous engagement and regretfully will not have that pleasure.” For a moment, she had the impression the old Rafe was back, but when she turned to face him, he had his back to her and was busy closing his briefcase.
The three of them went down together. As they reached the door of the building, Rafe fell back a few paces, letting them take the lead. Coral had no time to wonder why. Walking out onto the pavement, she stood rigid, frozen to the spot, as waves of ambivalent emotions hit her. The luxurious black Cadillac that appeared the first day at the port was parked on the other side of the narrow road, facing them. The street lamp threw a shaft of light onto the open window. The arrogant black eyes of the dancer met the blue stormy ones that held their stare.
Burning Embers Page 18
