Burning Embers

by Hannah Fielding

  The next moment, Rafe was taking them back into the air, climbing higher into the brilliant sky, drawing a great big circle, and flying back down again over the pride. The lioness had been sprawled out a few paces away from her little ones. Now she was on her way to them, baring her fangs, back arched, and legs stiff. Coral could practically feel the hairs along the lioness’s back bristling in alarm and hear the thunderous roar as she prowled gracefully, turning her head from left to right, trying to assess the danger.

  “We’ve disturbed their peace. She obviously feels threatened,” Rafe said. “I’m glad we’re not down there; she doesn’t seem at all pleased.”

  “I’ve taken shots of her too, and her cubs.” Coral was thrilled. “Thank you, Rafe, I think I’ve taken enough photographs. You’re a star.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “I’ve brought a picnic. It’s been a long time since breakfast, and I’m starving. Nothing too grand, just a few sandwiches and a bottle of wine, if you fancy a glass, and a bottle of cordial. There’s a valley not too far from here. Might I set us down there?” He glanced at her, laughter glinting in his eyes as if daring her to take up the challenge.

  “Why not? I think that’s a tremendous idea.” Coral decided to join in with his game. She knew what she was in for, but the only effect that had was to spur her on and stimulate her senses. She felt a little reckless. Today she would live for the moment, and the moment was now. On and off all day, with Rafe so close to her, she’d had an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him. He was obviously in his element, doing what he was good at. From time to time, he would shoot her a glance, and his sensual mouth would break into a smile that melted her insides. Why worry about what might happen? Even if he did not care for her in the way she wanted, she was sure he yearned for her as much as she did for him. Theirs was a visceral, almost primal, attraction.

  The plane was in the air for more than an hour. They flew over blue lakes, torrents, and streams that snaked through the vast plains, and long savannahs with dry river beds foaming, great gashes of red, yellow, and white in the earth. At last they came out on a glade. Coral could see a narrow brook and a darker fringe of immense acacias down at the bottom. Slopes of golden grass over six feet high lay on either side of the watercourse. Up behind came solid gray cliffs; their silvery peaks rose and vanished into the heavens, holding captive the sagging mist of the afternoon.

  The plane touched down in a valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and though the scenery was dramatically beautiful, for some reason Coral felt uneasy.

  “It’s taken us a little longer than I thought,” Rafe said as he pushed open the cockpit cabin roof door, braced his feet on the wing of the plane, and jumped to the ground, “but we’ve arrived.” Coral wriggled out of her seat and gingerly stepped onto the wing, sitting on it for a moment as she scanned the surroundings. There was something eerie about the place, as though they were not alone — the uncomfortable sensation that they were being stared at by wild creatures — and she had a vague sense of foreboding. A shadow must have touched her face because Rafe frowned. “Is anything the matter? You seem troubled.”

  Coral smiled down at him, not wanting to spoil the moment. “It’s very wild, very beautiful. You seem to have a predilection for enchanting, remote places.”

  “In fact, this place isn’t as remote as you might think — it’s on the edge of a Masai village. There’s actually a road not far from here that runs straight to Narok, close to Lady Langley’s plantation.”

  Rafe raised his arms to help her off the aircraft. He lifted her toward him, and she felt his strong torso against her breasts. She could sense a heart thumping uncontrollably; was it hers, or his, or both? She couldn’t tell. As he set her down, she gazed up at him. “Oh, Coral, don’t look at me with those eyes. I can’t vouch for my reaction if you do,” he said, his voice sensually low. He let go of her shoulders, gently pushing her away a little. Taking a hamper and a blanket out of the plane, he added, “Let’s have a spot of lunch and a glass of wine.”

  Though the afternoon sunshine was beginning to fade, the air was still hot and heavy. Coral was struck by the awesome silence that surrounded them. Not a bird in sight, no shuffle in the undergrowth, even the insects were elusive. They climbed a little way up the escarpment over the plateau and found a spot that dominated the view of the whole glade. Rafe spread out the blanket under an acacia tree. They ate some chicken sandwiches and eggs and polished off the bottle of cordial. They chatted casually, like old friends, about unimportant mundane things, as though they were both trying to ward off the real issue, to stifle the burning embers that were smoldering dangerously in both their minds and their bodies.

  All the while, Coral had been aware of the need blossoming inside her, clouding all reason with desire. She could tell that he was fighting his own battle. Why was he holding back? Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Rafe was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow, his head leaning on his hand, watching her through his long black lashes. The rhythm of his breathing was slightly faster, and she could detect a little pulse beating in the middle of his temple, both a suggestion of the turmoil inside him. Rafe put out a hand to touch her but seemed to change his mind and drew it away. Coral stared back at him, her eyes dark with yearning, searching his face.

  The shutters came down. “Don’t, Coral,” Rafe whispered, “don’t tease. There’s a limit to the amount of resistance a man has.”

  “But Rafe…”

  A flash of long blue lightning split the sky, closely followed by a crash of thunder. Coral instinctively threw herself into Rafe’s arms, hiding her face against his broad chest. She had always had a strong phobia of thunderstorms. Now she knew why the place had seemed eerie, why there had been no bird song or insect tick-tocks, no scuffling and ruffling in the undergrowth. Even though the skies when they entered the valley had not foretold the electrical storm that was to come, just like with the animals, her instinct had told her that something was wrong. But she had been too distracted by the turbulence crackling between her and Rafe to pay attention to the changing sky.

  Rafe, too, was shaken out of his daze and turned his head to see that the sun had dropped behind the mountain. Dense clouds had swept into the valley and were hanging overhead like a black mantle.

  “Where did that come from? No storm was forecast for today.” he muttered, jumping up.

  There was another tremendous peal of thunder, lightning lit up the whole glade, and again another crash. Then the heavy drops of rain came hammering down against the treetops, pouring down through the foliage.

  A wind was starting up. Without hesitation, Rafe folded the blanket into a small bundle and tucked it under his arm. He slung the hamper over his shoulder, and lifting Coral into his arms, he climbed his way up to the next level of the escarpment where a ledge of rock was jutting out and found the entrance to a cave where they could shelter. Coral was shivering. She tucked her face into his shoulder, her fingers tightly gripping his shirt. She was completely inert, paralyzed by fear. They were both drenched.

  There was no way they would be able to get back to Narok tonight. Coral knew from her childhood that storms were always long in this part of the country, and through her panic she prayed that he wouldn’t be piloting that little plane back in this howling gale. At least here they were protected from the storm. It was not yet completely dark. Rafe looked around, still holding her tightly against him. Coral couldn’t stop herself as she sobbed uncontrollably.

  “Shush, it’s all right,” he whispered softly in her ear. “It’s only a storm. By tomorrow morning it’ll all be over.” He brushed her tears away as more fell. “I’m going to have to set you down for a moment, Coral. I need to light us a fire and get you out of those wet clothes.”

  Coral tightened her grip. “No, no, please don’t leave me.” Her voice sounded like a lost and terrified child.

  Rafe pressed her slender frame against him. “I’m
not going to leave you,” he reassured her, “I’m just going to light us a fire. You’ll soon feel warmer, and a fire always cheers up a place.” He put her down gently and unfolded the blanket he had stuffed under his arm. He seemed relieved to find it was still fairly dry. Rafe wrapped the blanket around her before setting about looking for something to make a fire with. In a corner at the entry to the cave, he found a few twigs, some branches, and a heap of dry leaves that past storms had driven into the shelter of rock. At first, he had considerable difficulty creating a spark because most of the twigs he found were damp. He had to break up some of the branches and then stacked the wood in the shape of a pyramid. Upon putting his lighter to the dry tinder, he soon had a small flame going. It licked up strongly at the sticks, and within fifteen minutes a blaze was giving the cave a cheery glow.

  Coral had stopped crying. Sitting on the floor of the cave, she was still shivering, but she was not afraid anymore. She felt safe now; Rafe seemed to have taken the situation in hand and knew what he was doing, which didn’t surprise her. She was now deeply ashamed of her behavior. How could she have been so weak? Why was it that the less attractive features of her personality always came out in front of Rafe, when all she wanted was for him to admire her and love her?

  Coral watched as he busied himself with the fire. He had taken off his damp clothes save for the scanty briefs that clung to him like a second skin. His body was slightly flushed, his wet hair smoothed back and glossy, and his eyes seemed over-bright in the reflection of the flames. She longed to reach out and stroke the contour of his muscles, touch and feel once more his hardness against her, but she dared not. Just before the storm had erupted, he had pulled away from her, even though he must know how much she wanted him, and she knew he felt the same.

  He looked up and smiled. “Feeling better?” He rose to his feet and moved toward her.

  “Yes, much better, thank you. I’m sorry I was no help to you earlier on. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been terrified of storms.” Coral drew her knees up to her chest, still shivering despite the growing warmth of the fire. “One night when I was three years old, a storm broke out. My parents were out for the evening, and Aluna had been taken ill and was not in her bedroom when the storm woke me up. There was a big tree not far from my window that was struck by lightning. Some of its branches were set on fire, and it seemed like a great giant, swaying in the wind. I saw its limbs shrivel up and fall to the ground. When Aluna eventually came in, I was huddled under my bed crying and calling out for her. Apparently it took a while to bring me out of my hiding place. Ever since that night, I have been astraphobic.” She gave a weak smile. “I’m much better than I used to be. I haven’t had an attack for at least five years, but I think that being caught by surprise in the open just triggered it.”

  “It must have been a terrifying experience.” Rafe’s face was brooding, then his thoughts seemed to change. “Each person has his demons, and each person reacts to them in a different way. There is nothing wrong with that. You’re still shivering — you’d better get out of those clothes. With this sort of blaze going, they’ll be dry in no time.” There was a crackling noise as a burning branch collapsed and a shower of sparks soared up. Rafe added more wood to the fire. “It’s really not good to stay in wet clothes,” he said to her again.

  “I’m all right,” she said, “truly.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ll catch your death. Don’t worry; just pretend that I’m not here. I promise not to turn around.” Rafe moved away to the entrance of the cave and faced outward into the night. The sky radiated with flashes of forked lightning, zigzagging from over the escarpment like golden wires. The dull roar of thunder rumbling in the distance told of more gusts of wind and torrential rain approaching through the trees and shaking the forest. Coral stripped off her clothes. She pulled the blanket around her, and then watched Rafe standing with his back to her, outlined by the inky night sky. Her body was recalling the pleasure, the melting feeling inside her when she had been in Rafe’s arms by the lake, and as it did, her mind pushed aside the tiny voice telling her she was sailing toward disaster. Coral let the blanket fall to the ground. Casting aside inhibitions, she went toward Rafe. Leaves crackled under her feet, and he turned just as she was going to reach him. They were a few paces apart. She stood with the flames behind her, offering herself willingly, longing to submit to him.

  Rafe’s face paled, and his eyes darkened. Coral could see the hollow at the base of his neck pulsing, the intensity of his desire obvious. “Oh, Coral, Coral,” he murmured, his tone almost reproachful, but still he did not make any attempt to cross the space between them. Unspoken words and unfulfilled gestures trembled in the air. In the flickering light of the fire, his bronze skin glowed warmly. Rafe stood there very still, the muscles in his body tense. Coral knew he was waiting for her. She could feel the familiar ache, shattering the last of her control. Before she knew it, she was against him, her arms around his neck. She looked up at him, her lips parted, soft and moist.

  Rafe gazed down at her and drew in a ragged breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “So are you, oh, so are you, Rafe,” she breathed.

  Rafe lowered his head and found her lips. There was nothing soft, nothing tender about his kiss. It was a savage, almost barbaric kiss, desperate and all-consuming. His head slid down her body as a hand cupped the fullness of one breast, his mouth nipping then licking the taut pink peak, sliding over to the other breast and claiming it with the same passion, his kisses hungry and bruising. Wild flames rushed through every inch of Coral’s flesh, responding to his touch. She moaned as pain and pleasure alternated in her body, and she pressed herself against his arousal, aching to feel him inside her.

  He lifted her up gently and laid her on the blanket that he carefully smoothed beneath her. His eyes locked onto hers as his hands traveled caressingly across her curves, exploring lovingly every corner of her body, the intensity of her rising passion fueling his own. His fingers found the core of her desire where she had never been touched, and she whispered his name as they brushed her most sensitive flesh, making her palpitate with tension under his contact. “I want you inside me,” she moaned breathlessly, every nerve trembling with her need for him. Her hands searched and found his hardness, and she stroked and fondled the velvety tip, pressing him, showing him where she wanted him the most. Rafe touched his mouth to hers, and this time his kiss was soft and soothing. She knew he could sense her climax coming as his fingers moved with increasing urgency.

  For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if battling with some inner turmoil of emotions. Coral yearned for him to slide into her, and she pushed her hips urgently against him. Rafe ignored her writhing and pinned her down gently. Leaving her lips, his head dipped slowly, and his mouth, brushing first against her tummy, moved lower and lower until he tasted the blossoming of pleasure inside her. Coral cried out his name as a series of electric shocks burst through her, and she moaned and whimpered as a million rainbows exploded in her mind. Only then did Rafe let himself go against her, his body convulsing into a fierce climax as he shuddered and groaned, his head coming up and nestling in the curve of her neck. They lay against each other, their hearts beating in unison, their bodies still quivering with the overwhelming feelings that had erupted and burst inside them.

  An hour later, they were still silently lying together. Coral had cuddled up to Rafe, and with his arm around her, Rafe held on to her as though he never wanted to let go.

  The storm had subsided, but it still rained outside. The fire had burned down to a heap of smoldering ashes. Rafe got up and placed a few branches on top of it. Rekindled, the fire leapt up with purple fervor. As she watched the flames throwing dancing shadows on the wall, Coral’s eyes grew heavy.

  From beneath her lashes, she watched as Rafe uncorked the bottle of wine and poured out a glass for himself. He lit a cigarette and sat next to the fire, leaning against the rock, watching the swirl
ing smoke that rose above him. There was a strange look about him that seemed to mix excitement with sadness and made Coral wish that she could read his mind. He must have known so many women, she thought, perhaps even slept with many without discrimination. Whatever his past experiences, he appeared like a man who had probably hurt others but had himself been wounded too. He had made himself an island, and how she wished she could cross those waters to him and set him free. Coral lay there half-awake as Rafe sat silently ruminating by the fire, until finally she gave in to a deep and exhausted sleep.

  * * *

  When Coral awoke, the rain had stopped. As dawn broke, a pool of saffron light had crept into the entrance of the cave. Rafe was standing at the opening, looking out onto the valley. Coral watched him for a few minutes as the soft hues sent shadows on his body, and her heart swelled with floods of tenderness. She rolled herself into the blanket, silently came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek on his strong back. How good it was to be so close to him. He tensed at her touch and turned, smiling.

  “Good morning, rosebud. Slept well?”

  “Umm,” she murmured languidly. A honey-gold halo hung round the tree-tops. As Coral stared into the distance, she could see the spire of Mount Kenya, hundreds of miles away, rising ice blue against the glow of sunrise. The picture was ephemeral. The horizon beside it broke into flames as the African sun burst forth into an incandescent sky. The vision of the glimmering peak melted away, and for a moment, Coral wondered if she had dreamed it. “The rain has stopped. Look, there’s a rainbow,” she cried out, pointing at the shimmering mirage that formed a broken arch over the glade. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “Yes, it is,” he whispered, although a shadow clouded his face as if it held a meaning for him that he was reluctant to speak about. Coral was not apprehensive about such things as a rule, but she remembered an old African superstition that she had heard from Aluna and wondered if it had occurred to him too. A small broken bow, such as the one they were seeing, meant that enemies were on their way from that direction. But who would that be? Oh, she thought, it’s only mumbo jumbo. Rafe shifted uneasily. “It’s time we went,” he said. “They must be fretting at the plantation.”