by Louise Make
Just when she believed her personal torture to be over, Lazola turned a wolfish smile her way.
“I must thank you, Langalethu, for an almost perfect evening.”
His voice was like a direct caress to her senses. Langa had to battle her way out of a languid hypnosis to react to the one word that had bothered her.
“Almost?”
He nodded. “All that’s missing is the final touch: a dance with my favourite marketing manager.”
There was no way her jittery nerves would survive endless minutes in his arms. “Oh, I don’t think –”
“Good. Just go with the moment.”
He pulled her out to the dance floor before she could protest any further. She felt his warmth embrace her and all words left her. Was it possible to feel deeply at home in the arms of the one person who confused and threatened her the most?
Her body, however, was not interested in soul-searching. It moulded itself to him as if he were the last source of pleasure on earth. Langa silently conceded to having lost this particular battle and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt Lazola’s arms tighten around her as one large palm stroked her back.
“Where in the Eastern Cape were you born?” he asked unexpectedly.
“My family lived e-Matatiele. Out in the rural area.”
“I know. Mna ndiphuma e-East London, but my father owned a cattle farm near Matatiele. So we’re practically neighbours; that must be what drew me to you.”
Langa looked up at him. “You’re drawn to challenges, not me.”
His hand stilled. “Why does my presence make you so uncomfortable?”
She became embarrassingly aware of their thighs against each other and his strong heartbeat beneath her right palm.
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“You’re lying, honey.”
Langa’s heart thumped. “You don’t know me. How can you presume to know when I’m lying?”
He watched her steadily. “You have a disturbingly deep fondness for chocolate. You’re a hard worker and far less forgiving of your shortfalls than you should be. It’s served you well, though, considering your successes. Oh, and your brown eyes glow a lighter shade, like melting honey, when you’re aroused.”
Fortunately Lazola’s arms tightened around her when she stumbled. He pulled her close and continued to lead her. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt her breasts press against his solid chest.
“You don’t know … I don’t …” She simply couldn’t think with his skilful hand warming the base of her spine like that.
He lowered his head until his breath tickled her earlobe. “Shhh. See? I’ve been paying attention – and I do know you.”
Light shivers danced across her skin and gathered to ripple beneath his powerful hand. The thought of him knowing her so intimately frightened her as much as it excited her.
Just as Langa felt her last defences slipping, the song faded to an end. She pulled away from Lazola, desperate to reassemble her composure.
“Don’t tell me you’re running off. Again.” His face was an indecipherable mask, his voice low. “Why do you make such efforts to avoid me, Langa?”
Because I can’t afford to get close to you. My heart would never survive it.
Langa schooled her features, praying for the strength to hold the threatening capitulation at bay.
“I’m tired, that’s all. Goodnight.”
*
Langa’s jaw quite literally dropped when she saw her suite. Five-star seemed an inadequate description of the opulence before her.
Plush carpeting ran from the entrance hall, through the lounge and dining area and into what appeared to be a magnificent bedroom. The furniture was an ensemble of sophisticated antiques; the lamps, sculptures and other accessories had been carefully picked. Sliding doors opened onto a large balcony and the view was astounding. A door to her right led to a library-cum-office; and the one beside revealed a second bedroom. The suite was larger than her entire Morningside townhouse. It even had a well-equipped kitchen.
Langa stood before an oil painting of a woman bathing in a lake. A full moon gleamed above her and a lion watched, undetected, from a rock outcrop. There was something magical about the scene.
She entered the master bedroom last. An intricately designed Oriental rug lay before a bed she was certain could comfortably sleep four. Lazola had made sure that it would take nothing short of a miracle to make his patrons want to leave his hotel.
Her small case stood in front of the walk-in closet. She unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. She tossed it on the chaise by the fireplace before taking her vanity pouch out of her case and heading into the bathroom.
A surprised gasp slipped out when she saw her reflection in the giant mirrors. She had forgotten that she’d decided to wear another one of the lingerie sets that Vuvu had chosen for her. She had gone with the black set with the strapless bra. Hip-hugging boy-leg panties clung to her. Rose-red trim accentuated the inky satin. It was the garter belt and black thigh-high stockings that shocked her. They made her look scandalously sexual. Those and the heels, of course.
Langa laughed at the idea of ever letting a man see her like this. She simply wasn’t the type who could deliver on the erotic promises such attire made. She was no femme fatale.
She froze when she thought she heard a thud coming from the direction of the lounge, but no further sounds followed. So she relaxed and started removing her make-up. She hummed as she washed her face and applied a cream.
The second thump in the bedroom came too late to give her any sort of decent warning.
“What the hell?”
She knew that voice all too well. She spun around just as Lazola filled the bathroom doorway. He was holding her discarded dress in one hand. He had taken his jacket and shoes off and his shirt was unbuttoned. His muscular chest looked enticing and his gaze glinted dangerously in the soft lighting.
Langa licked her lips. “What are you doing in my room, Lazola?”
His voice was rough. “This is not your room, Langa. It’s the penthouse suite. My full-time home was in Cape Town, but I’ve been living here since I decided to move to Joburg. So I think the more accurate question is what are you doing in my suite?”
“There must’ve been some sort of mix-up. I was given the keycard and floor number. I was even told the code for the lift when … Actually, I suppose my explanation is meaningless, I’m clearly in the wrong. I’m sorry, I’ll go. I just need to get my things.”
“Oh no, honey.” His predatory air made her shiver. “There’s no way I am letting you just walk away after seeing you like that.”
“Lazola?”
It had been months since their last kiss and yet her body recognised his as if they had been making love every day since. His lips claimed hers in the same moment that his large hands grasped her and pulled her to his bare chest. The contact of flesh on flesh made her skin sizzle and she lost the ability to think the moment she tasted him.
She expected him to be wild, now that they were finally together. Instead, he surprised her by pulling back to study her face at his leisure. He touched her fingertips, then traced from both hands up her arms to her cheeks.
“I’ve wanted to do this countless times in our months of working together,” he murmured as he started unpinning her hair.
“You were beautiful the night I met you, very beautiful. But this …” He freed her thick tresses and watched them tumble about her face. “I prefer this by far. You are breathtaking, do you know that?”
Langa inhaled sharply when he lifted and carried her to his bed. The intensity of his gaze as he effortlessly undid the clasps on her lingerie made her wonder how his eyes would adore the woman that he would one day love. What kind of woman would it take to earn this man’s love?
Don’t go there.
She peeled his shirt away from the muscles it hid and planted heated kisses from his throat to his chest. They moved together, constantly grasping, l
icking, biting. Lazola seemed to take great pride in the cries his tongue elicited as it stroked her intimately. Langa momentarily glimpsed his devilish grin before he continued torturing her. She felt herself rise towards a devastating climax as she clutched at his shoulders, curling her toes.
He stopped just before her release, hushing her disappointed whimper. Her eyes followed him desperately as he rose to open a bedside drawer. He reached for the condom within and watched her as he tore it open. Langa swallowed nervously but found that she could not turn her eyes away as he sheathed himself.
When he returned to settle his hips between her spread thighs, she eagerly wrapped herself around him. Perfect fit. Their union brought tears to Langa’s eyes and she was grateful that Lazola buried his face in her hair, growling as his thrusts marked her as his. Her tears made her feel vulnerable. She had never felt this in tune with another person in her life.
She loved him.
She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, but it was undeniable now. Or maybe she did know when it had happened. As crazy as it seemed, she’d known she was in trouble from the moment of their first kiss on that moonlit balcony. That certainly explained her inner chaos since first laying eyes on him.
As their passion rose, Lazola lifted his penetrating stare back to her golden gaze. He hissed when she cried his name and clawed his back, leaving bold welts on the broad expanse of flesh. He buried his fingers in her kinky hair, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. Her body followed his rhythm as if it had been waiting to do so all her life. He bit into her shoulder as he groaned at her responsiveness.
“Did you know you taste like it as well?” he growled.
“Like what?”
“Honey.”
Langa came undone. Her climax started as a white-hot explosion and it blazed through her so devastatingly that she cried out. His name seemed to be the only word left in her consciousness, and she cried it again and again as stars rained down upon her and he roared his own release.
Lazola wrapped an arm around her without leaving her warmth. With anyone else Langa might have felt embarrassed by the intimacy of their continued connection, but she craved it from him. His arm held her firmly in place as his other hand came up to brush her lush hair back from her face.
She was afraid of what she would see when she met his eyes, but she looked anyway. He smiled at her. She smiled back. He left her then to dispose of the condom.
When he returned, he held her tightly and rolled onto his back without saying a word. Langa planted a kiss on his chest before allowing her head to rest above his heartbeat. The most peaceful sleep drifted in, soft as a whisper, and claimed her.
Chapter 4
4
The first time she woke up, the room was still completely dark. They’d switched positions. Langa was on her back and Lazola’s head was resting on her chest. His deep, steady breaths had lulled her back to sleep before she could do more than smile at his peaceful face.
The second time, she had rolled onto her side and his reassuring warmth was behind her. He’d felt her stirring and murmured into her hair, “I had a horse once … when I was young and still living part-time on the farm. She was untamed and very proud.”
“What was her name?” she whispered back.
“Zwilakhe. She tossed me many times before suddenly yielding. After that I was the only person she allowed near her without a fight. Gaining her trust was the best gift I’d ever known.”
A long silence followed and Langa assumed he’d drifted off again.
“You remind me of her,” he added and kissed her shoulder.
Langa must have slipped into sleep then because she found herself waking a third time, just before dawn. She was still half asleep when she felt his lips exploring her spine. His touches and nibbles were so soft that their second joining felt like a dream. The only reason she knew it to be real was the force of the core-shaking climax they shared. The sky was lit an enchanting violet hue.
“I miss my sister sometimes,” she told him.
“Mpumi? Why did she move overseas?”
“Work at first; then she fell in love and stayed. I lived with her for two years after I got my degree. All I did was study towards my masters and work the rest of the time. Our time passed in a blur.”
“What do you miss most?” he asked.
“She and I are totally different. She used to get so frustrated with my tomboyish ways when we were growing up. She was a lady through and through – even in primary school.”
“But you two get along now?”
Langa smiled. “Oh yes. It turns out opposites do attract. And thank heavens for Skype; we’re able to keep in touch regularly. She keeps me balanced.”
“That must be nice.”
She touched her forehead to his. “Don’t you have someone like that, someone to pull you back in line when you lose your way, or pick you up when you’re down?”
He shook his head. “We lost my father while I was in high school. He’d always pushed me to try anything and succeed at everything. I guess I became the man of the house when he was no longer there; which means I became the one everyone turned to, not the other way around.”
She stroked his jaw. “I’m a good listener, just so you know. And I carry extra chocolate with me sometimes. For sharing.”
She’d hoped to lighten his heavy tone, but he didn’t crack a smile. She felt better when he pecked her on the lips. “That’s the sleep deprivation talking. Close your eyes and let me hold you for another hour.”
She slipped back to sleep in his possessive embrace. It made her feel needed – cherished.
She had let herself love him for that entire night, with no reservation, knowing that sunrise would bring with it questions that she might not want answered. She told herself the memories they were creating would be enough to see her through a lifetime without his love. They would have to be.
*
Ten o’clock. Langa couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that late. The bedside clock she was looking at wasn’t familiar, but the scent on the pillow she was hugging definitely was. It was so incredibly masculine.
Lazola.
Memories of their lovemaking crashed upon her and she sat up with a start. She was alone. She listened for sounds of someone moving around but the suite was silent.
She shot out of bed, her face heating at the state of the room. Evidence of their passion was all over the place. She wrapped a sheet around her and padded from room to room, hoping to find Lazola.
He was gone. The most amazing night of her life had meant nothing to him. Just another one-night fling.
He doesn’t care. You went to his bed knowing this.
She showered quickly and packed her case. There was no way she could survive an entire weekend in Lazola’s hotel after being nothing more than his plaything for one night. She had to get out of there and gather herself. After double-checking that she hadn’t left anything behind, Langa lifted her case.
*
She had passed the roses on the lounge coffee table three times while looking for Lazola earlier; it was only as she was on her way out that she consciously noticed them.
They stood in a crystal vase, two dozen in total, all of them perfect. There was an envelope with her name on it on the table. Langa tore it open and read the four simple words scrawled on a white card:
Wait for me.
Lazola
He hadn’t discarded her after getting what he wanted. He must’ve been called away by something urgent, but had made sure to let her know that he wanted her there.
Langa leaned in and inhaled the heady scent of the roses. They were beautiful. In a moment of panic, she wondered what they signified. Did this mean that he possibly felt the same way she did? Or was he in the habit of handing out bouquets to his bedmates in a ploy to keep them smitten?
Langa decided not to get ahead of herself. She needed to hear what he had to say first. She needed to hear him say t
he words that would make her heart soar. Or crush it.
Not knowing how she would react were anyone to find her alone in Lazola’s suite, she decided to go down for breakfast, then keep busy in the gym and spa until he returned. She hummed, suddenly relieved, as she changed into a tracksuit, then took her keycard and headed for the private lift.
*
Thomas found her around lunchtime as she was leaving the spa.
“Langa! You’re looking fresh and energised. I do hope you’ve been enjoying your stay thus far?”
Langa eyed him cautiously. “Indeed I have, Thomas. Nothing beats the penthouse suite – right up until its owner arrives to evict you, that is.”
The drop in his face was almost comical. “Oh dear.”
“What are you playing at?” she asked sternly. “Why did you send me up to Lazola’s suite last night?”
Thomas tugged at his ear, his expression sheepish. “Forgive an old man, my dear. I guess my mind just wandered.”
“Not buying it, Miller. Your old-man routine might work on the unsuspecting masses, but I doubt Lazola would trust you with his hotels if you had anything less than a formidable intellect.”
He grinned. “Why thank you, Miss Cima.”
“It’s still Langa. Now, what was that all about?”
Thomas looked around the busy waiting lounge, then back at her. “Join me for lunch. The seafood here will bring tears of joy to your eyes.”
Langa couldn’t help her slight smile as she allowed him to lead her into the ground-level restaurant. She found herself liking him more and more the better she got to know him.
Thomas Miller turned out to be very entertaining company. He had known Lazola since he was a boy, and kept Langa in stitches with stories of the daring and innovative thinking Lazola’d displayed from a young age. The death of his father after a battle with leukaemia had hardened him early on, but had not broken him. He’d finished high school top of his class, despite his grief. It was obvious that Thomas thought highly of Lazola and felt he deserved only the best.
