Guide My Heart

by Caroline Swart

  “Yes,” he said, answering her while staring pointedly at me.

  Sarie gave us a little wave and left to greet a new group of tourists.

  Taking a deep breath, I savored the fresh scent of his aftershave. He was so close, I could almost feel him against me. If he moved forward an inch, we’d be touching. Honestly, this man had no sense of personal space. Even if I wanted to be angry about last night, his hungry gaze stopped me in my tracks. He stared at me as if I were his prey, and I was his to devour.

  Without thinking, I wet my lips, and he groaned softly.

  Stubble glistened on his jaw in the morning sunlight, and all I could think about was how it would feel against my skin. He was making me crazy. Against my will, my body was drawn to his like a paper clip fighting a magnet. Thankfully, he released the spell by looking away.

  “Poachers are brutal. They gouge out the horn of the adult rhino.” He took a deep breath and focused on the pen. “They don’t care if the animal lives or dies. They’re left to bleed to death.”

  Whoa. The grisly subject sobered my lust-filled thoughts in an instant.

  “How do they catch the rhino?”

  Meghan’s question came at the right time. She walked to the next pen and he followed, thinking I’d join them. As he told her about darting, and the barbaric methods the poachers used, I stepped back, glancing at the rest of the tourists.

  Sarie had moved to a smaller pen where people were listening to her commentary. I looked back at the baby rhino enclosure just in time to see the one person I wanted to avoid.

  Milla.

  So she’d finally decided to join the tour. I thought we were the last bunch of tourists to leave the lodge, so how did she get here? With Chris? Had they woken up together, and after a leisurely breakfast in his mother’s kitchen, taken his car to visit the orphanage? My jealous mind pictured the scene.

  Wait, am I jealous?

  I couldn’t name the biting emotion in my chest, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it. Strengthening my resolve, I decided not to fall for him again. The effect he had on my emotions was almost physical. Keeping my distance was the only option, especially if I guessed right and he was a player. With looks like his, how could he not be?

  No, I wasn’t an impressionable female tourist looking for a holiday romance. This festive season, Santa wouldn’t get milk with his cookies.

  Leaving him to finish the conversation with Meghan, I wandered over to the crowd surrounding Sarie.

  “Britney.” Renaldo stood behind me, giving me a lazy smile. Dressed in khaki with his dark eyes sparkling dangerously, he was the image of a typical hunter.

  “Renaldo, hey. How are you?”

  “Much better for seeing you.” As he spoke, he slung an arm loosely around my shoulders. “Come and meet my dad,” he said, guiding me to a gathering of tourists at another pen.

  This one was much bigger than the other enclosures, with a carpet of grass that covered the sandy soil and a swing gate at the entrance. Four mature rhinos grazed peacefully, making chuffing sounds through their noses as their square mouths ripped at the tender shoots.

  Renaldo walked up to a man with a lined face and touched his arm. Lean and tanned like his son but with a cool glint in his eye, the man seemed bored by the proceedings.

  “Dad, this is Britney Adams from New York.”

  “Hey, there.” I smiled.

  “Brit, this is my dad, Hannes Blom.”

  “Good to meet you.” Taking his proffered hand, I shook it lightly as he nodded at me.

  “So you’re here on vacation?” he asked.

  “Yeah. All this sunshine beats walking in snow.”

  “Ja, and the currency exchange is good. You can buy a lot of Christmas presents to take back home.”

  “If my friend had her way, she’d buy a rhino for Christmas,” I joked.

  Hannes answered seriously, though, and his words made the hair on my arms rise.

  “No, the rhinos should be sold to hunting farms. That’s where the money is. These beauties can fetch up to thirty-five thousand dollars when they’re big. Martin is a sentimental fool—he and his son, Chris, don’t want to sell their animals.”

  Huh! Who was this guy? How could anyone sell the plump, gray-skinned babies for hunting purposes?

  I lifted a brow, trying to keep my tone even. “Maybe they don’t like raising them just to be killed.”

  “Tsk.” Mr. Blom flicked his hand as if he were batting away a fly. “That’s what farming is all about. Livestock is raised to be killed and eaten. There’s no difference. It’s another continent, another kind of animal.”

  “Yes, but these animals are endangered. Once they’re dead, there aren’t any more.” Raising my chin, I glared at him angrily.

  An odd smirk played on his lips, but he didn’t reply, maybe because Sarie’s group had just joined us. Mr. Blom nodded at her before walking away.

  Renaldo tightened his arm around my shoulders. “Ignore him. He’s in a bad mood.”

  My cheeks were warm after the exchange, but Renaldo pressed a finger softly against my skin. “Hey, are you okay?” He frowned, studying my face.

  I blew out a breath. “Your father is intense. But I’m good.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? He can be a bit abrupt, but he means well. Don’t let him get to you.”

  “I’m good. I promise.” Peering over his shoulder, I decided to change the subject. “Why do they call them white rhinos? They have gray skin.”

  A small smile touched his lips before he dropped his arm and turned to look at the animals. “The Dutch called them weid or wide rhinos when they first came to Africa, because of their wide mouths, but the British thought they meant white rhinos. I guess the name stuck.”

  “Ah.” I smiled.

  Renaldo placed a foot on the bars, and I reached out to grasp the metal that was warming quickly in the midmorning sunshine. The air carried the smell of rich soil and freshly cut wood, together with the slightly sour tang of dung. He waited patiently as I watched the huge animals graze.

  “I don’t understand why anyone would want to kill them,” I said after a while. “They’re such beautiful animals.”

  “Horns. The hunters want the horns.”

  “But what’s so special about a horn?”

  “Hmm, what’s so special about a horn?” Renaldo paused, his eyes glittering mischievously. “Sounds bad when you say it like that. Are you sure you want the answer?”

  The tension I’d felt after speaking to his dad disappeared, and my laughter rang out. “Don’t be an idiot. Tell me the truth.”

  Grinning broadly, he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “It’s said to have aphrodisiac properties. They say it makes a man hard all night long.”

  Once more my cheeks heated, but this time it was because of the teasing note in his voice. There was no mistaking his flirtatious tone. If Chris preferred Milla’s company, I didn’t need to look far for his replacement.

  But my heart was stubborn. It needed chemistry and zinging sparks, and maybe a golden chain or two . . .

  Someone tugged at my arm and I swung around, tamping down my guilty thoughts.

  “Whatcha doing?” Meghan asked.

  “Learning about horns,” I said without thinking, then cringed once the words left my mouth.

  She pulled her sunglasses down and studied me over the rims. “What an awesome topic. Mind if I join?”

  “But of course.” Renaldo grinned. “I was telling Britney why the rhino horn is so popular.”

  Meghan slipped an arm through his, pulling him closer. “Only rhino horn, or other horns?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Meghan, I can’t take you anywhere. Don’t be disgusting.”

  She shushed me with a finger over her lips. “Don’t interrupt my lesson. Your friend was just about to educate me.”

  “His name is Renaldo, and this is Meghan, my best friend from New York.”

  Renaldo winked at her. “I was sa
ying that rhino horn is considered an aphrodisiac in the Far East. They’ll pay a fortune for it.”

  She straightened, cocking her head to the side. “Haven’t they heard of Viagra?”

  “Meghan,” I said in a warning tone.

  “What?” She smiled innocently. “Have an ad campaign and tell them. That’s what I’d do.”

  Renaldo’s shoulders shook before he exploded with laughter. “I’d pay good money to hear that ad.”

  The two carried on with their banter, but my thoughts had drifted. I took a second to scan the enclosure while they were joking around.

  A few stalls down, I found what I was looking for. Milla stood next to Chris, staring at him adoringly as she touched his forearm. He nodded and pointed at something in the pen, but I’d seen enough. I couldn’t bear to see them together. I had to get away.

  Turning back to Renaldo, I put on my most imploring smile. “Is there anything else we can do today?”

  Meghan gave me a sympathetic look. “Oh, poor baby. Are you bored already?”

  “No, but it’s hot, and I’d like to spend some time at the pool if I can.”

  “You mean you finally want to get that itsy-bitsy red bikini wet?”

  Meghan could be such a tease sometimes, and her comment had the desired effect. Renaldo’s head snapped up so quickly, I thought he’d get whiplash.

  “Come with me. I know where the exit is, and I’m sure we can organize a ride back to the lodge.”

  Bingo. Men were such suckers.

  I bit back a smile. “If it’s not too much trouble . . .”

  “Not at all.” He moved away from the spot where Chris and Milla stood, just like I’d hoped, and called out, “Follow me.”

  An hour later, I was ensconced in an adorable doughnut-shaped float, nursing a hard cider and splashing tepid water with my foot.

  “I still think the red bikini would have looked better on you,” Meghan grumbled. She lay spread-eagle on a lounger at the side of the pool, trying to absorb every ray of sunshine. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, which were probably closed.

  “I agree.” Renaldo nodded solemnly. He paddled closer on his frog-shaped inflatable—not an inch of flab on his lean, tanned frame. Reaching out, he grabbed my float to stop it from gliding away. “Although the yellow suits your skin tone.” Slowly, he ran his fingers up my sun-warmed forearm, his gaze darting to mine to gauge my reaction.

  “Yeah,” Meghan said, “the yellow one-piece isn’t the best for tanning, but Brit can wear sackcloth and make it look good.”

  Ignoring Renaldo, I took another sip of cider, feeling his fingers rest on my arm as his thumb gently rubbed the underside of my wrist. The air was hot, and the pool smelled of coconut tanning lotion and baked earth. The whole mood was relaxing, and the cider combined with Renaldo’s soft stroking made me drowsy.

  I glanced over at Meghan as she raised the material of her bathing suit from her ample chest. She peeked at her tan and smiled.

  “I love the sunny weather here. Beats a New York snowstorm any day.” Sitting up, she turned the tanning lotion bottle upside down and slathered her flat belly with a layer of protection. “Hey, Chris,” she called out, waving quickly.

  Almost dropping my cider, I snatched my arm away from Renaldo as I looked toward the far end of the pool to find Chris’s gaze fixed intently on me. My heartbeat stopped as a butterfly the size of a pigeon took flight in my stomach.

  Standing at the pool’s edge, he placed his hands on his hips and glared. With golden hair fanning his shoulders like a lion’s mane, he looked like an angry gladiator. A muscle ticked in his jaw, which for some reason made me feel guilty.

  But why? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Chris and I weren’t even an item. I had nothing to be ashamed of. And I was on vacation, for God’s sake. So, why did my feet kick at the water in an effort to move my float away from Renaldo’s?

  Chris’s fierce expression softened as he watched me splashing around like a baby duck.

  “Hey,” Renaldo called out. “The water is perfect for a swim. Get your trunks and join us.”

  A murderous look flashed across Chris’s face when he heard Renaldo’s voice. Why was he so upset?

  “Blom, ek waarsku jou nou. Bly weg van haar.” Chris’s voice was little more than a growl as he spoke in his language, pointing a warning finger at Renaldo. After one more glower, he whirled around and stormed toward the lodge.

  “Wow, what was that all about?” Meghan raised her sunglasses, peering at his retreating form before turning to Renaldo. “What did he say? Was that Afrikaans?”

  I flopped back against the float and took a swig of my cider, wishing I could understand what Chris had said. Renaldo’s lips firmed as he shook his head. “Passop, meneertjie,” he whispered, and then he smiled. “Yes, Meghan. That was Afrikaans. But I’m not going to repeat what he said.” Paddling closer, he clinked his beer bottle against mine and grinned. “Britney, looks like you’ve got another admirer. Luckily, I don’t mind competition.”

  Still feeling guilty, I forced a smile as the throaty roar of a lion rumbled in the distance.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, I woke up with an evil cider buzz. I’d have to check the alcohol content on the local drinks before indulging again. The blazing sunshine the day before had added to my headache, but at least my skin had darkened to a rich golden-brown.

  After popping two aspirins, I took a gulp of water and swallowed before studying my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The new tan gave my face a healthy glow, even if I didn’t feel all that well.

  As I snagged a new bottle of water from the fridge, someone knocked outside. Thinking it was Meghan, I swung the door open and was about to turn my back when I saw who was there.

  “Hi, Britney. Can I come in?”

  My mouth opened in shock at the sight of Chris standing in my doorway. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and a new day’s stubble lined his jaw.

  “May I?” he asked after I’d taken too long to respond.

  I stepped back, allowing him to enter. Luckily, I’d made the bed and tidied up earlier, even with a headache.

  “I’ve come to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line, and I’m sorry.” Surprising me, he held out a small bouquet of wildflowers. “These are for you.”

  “Thank you.” With a shaky hand, I accepted the flowers. Closing the door behind him, I ushered him into the room. “You don’t have to apologize. Why do you think I’m upset?”

  “That’s for yesterday when I made a scene at the pool.” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Clutching the flowers, I looked for a vase. “I couldn’t understand what you said to Renaldo anyway, and he refused to translate.”

  “Blom isn’t trustworthy. His dad is a slimeball, and I don’t like him. I don’t want him to annoy you. Hopefully, he got the message.”

  Finding an empty plastic container, I glanced at him. “I think he did. He said something to you when you were leaving, but again, he wouldn’t translate.”

  A muscle throbbed in Chris’s jaw. “I’m sorry you had to hear us squabbling. Let me make it up to you.” His voice turned low and persuasive, and with glittering eyes, he moved closer to my side.

  I could smell the crisp scent of soap mixed with his unique vanilla fragrance, and it made me shiver. Trying to hide my nervousness, I filled the container with water, arranging the flowers hastily.

  “We can go for a private game drive,” he suggested. “Just the two of us.”

  While I was busy, he reached out and rubbed his knuckles gently against my cheek. Warmth pooled in my stomach at his touch, and my limbs turned to jelly. How could he keep affecting me like this?

  No, no, no.

  He was with Milla yesterday.

  Don’t be stupid, Brit.

  With renewed conviction, I stepped away from his touch. “Are you sure you don’t want to invite Milla instead?”


  “No.” He tilted his head, studying me. “I’m inviting you.”

  Damn. Another hot wave swept through my belly as his eyes gleamed. How could I say no to this man? His proximity and intoxicating scent, the heat he gave off—the combination was deadly. But I couldn’t be sure if I’d been invited because the euro-chic movie star wasn’t available. Was I his second choice?

  “Maybe Meghan should come too.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. My cheeks heated but I didn’t care. I’d feel better if Meghan came along.