A Taste of Temptation

by Cat Schield

  Relaxing against his solid body, Harper gave in to a satisfied smile. “You can after dinner.”

  “How about a little before and a lot after?”

  “That sounds quite acceptable.”

  * * *

  A sliver of sunlight lanced through a narrow gap between the closed curtains, waking Ashton. From the angle, he surmised it was early afternoon. Jumping multiple time zones had always been a part of his life and from an early age he’d adapted to functioning on less sleep than the average person, but combine his long trip with an insatiable Harper Fontaine and it was amazing he hadn’t slept until dusk.

  He rolled onto his back and stretched his arm across the empty mattress. It was cool to the touch. She’d been gone some time. He couldn’t blame her. From the heaviness of his limbs he’d probably been sleeping like the dead. Some fun traveling companion he was.

  A tented piece of paper sat on her pillow. He read her note and grimaced. She’d gone to the embassy to see about her passport. That meant she wouldn’t return anytime soon.

  Ashton pushed upright and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d use the time to make some arrangements. Last night as they’d talked over dinner, it came to him that no matter how short her trip was, she really shouldn’t leave South Africa without seeing a little of its natural beauty.

  It took him an hour’s worth of phone calls to get everything in place. When she arrived half an hour later, looking jubilant and proud of herself, he wrapped her in a warm embrace.

  “How’d it go at the embassy?”

  “They scolded me for not filing a police report, but I should have a temporary passport early afternoon tomorrow.”

  “That’s good news. And I have some, as well.” He drew her toward the hotel room door. “Let’s get something to eat and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  This time he took her to a restaurant with unassuming furnishings and mouthwatering aromas emanating from the long buffet. They filled their plates with authentic South African dishes and returned to their table. As they ate, Ashton did his best to explain all the things they’d chosen. It had been over ten years since he’d last visited South Africa and some of the more exotic fare wasn’t familiar.

  As he chewed a bite of crocodile, he wondered if maybe the producers of The Culinary Wanderer had been right about coming to Africa for this next season. He’d blocked out just how diverse and delicious the cuisine was.

  “Tell me your news.”

  “I found your father.”

  “But I’d already done that.”

  “Yes, but I know where he is right now.”

  “How?”

  “You forget how well-connected I am.” He saluted himself with his wineglass before continuing. “A guy I knew knew another guy who has used your father to gather wildlife footage in the past and had his phone number. Turns out he’s not far from here. I wasn’t able to get us into the camp where he’s staying, but there’s a lodge about an hour away that a friend of mine owns.”

  Harper had stopped eating and was looking a little shell-shocked. “When?”

  “Late tomorrow after you get your passport. I chartered a plane to take us into Nelspruit where we’ll pick up a car and drive to Kruger National Park. It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. We can catch up with him before he heads out the following day.”

  What he really needed to do was get on a plane and go back to Las Vegas, but she couldn’t bring herself to remind him that his first priority should be Batouri.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Her voice wavered. “I’d prepared myself to leave without even meeting him. Thank you.”

  “No thanks required.”

  Her gaze locked on his face. “Well, I won’t take it back.”

  Warmth spread from his chest through his whole body. He reached for her hand and smiled as she slipped her fingers through his. The couple sitting at the table beside them smiled. Ashton imagined the romantic picture he and Harper made. In the past while he’d never kept his personal life hidden, he hadn’t indulged in public displays of affection, either. With Harper he wanted the whole world to notice that she belonged with him.

  He’d even started thinking in terms of guiding her to all the places he’d visited and loved. Her ambivalence about her future was a perfect opening to present all the possibilities they could explore together.

  By two the next day, Harper’s temporary passport was ready to pick up. They headed straight for the airport where they were met by their flight’s copilot and escorted onto a well-maintained eight-passenger plane.

  As the sun was approaching the horizon almost three hours later, Ashton was braking to a halt alongside a Range Rover of similar age to their own at the Grant Tented Camp. Scattered along the river were six luxurious tents with king-size beds, en suite bathrooms and private terraces. Tucked among thick stands of mature trees and connected by a raised wooden walkway, each tent enjoyed a great deal of privacy.

  “Why don’t you have a look around while I get us checked in.”

  Harper opened her door and stepped out, a look of awe on her face. “This isn’t exactly what I pictured when you told me we were going to spend a couple nights in a tent camp.”

  He patted the roof of the Range Rover. “It’s not exactly a camel.” He gestured around them. “And it’s not exactly the desert, although we are close to the end of the dry season. But at least there are tents. I hope you enjoy it.”

  She was touched that he’d gone to so much trouble to make her quest to South Africa such a marvelous experience. “Of course I will. How could I not?”

  She accompanied him into the tented, open-air lounge and wandered toward the small pool nestled against the deck that overlooked the river. Built of local rock and surrounded by lush plants, it seemed like a completely natural addition to the landscape. Ashton went to see about their accommodations, and Harper wandered until she found the small dining room, also tented, with tables set with white cloth, china and crystal, mahogany chairs and candelabras awaiting the touch of a match.

  Such elegance tucked into a wild, untamed landscape charmed Harper. Had Ashton guessed the place was so romantic? She was almost dizzy in anticipation of seeing where they would sleep as she went back to the lounge to await Ashton’s return.

  The dozen or so guests she noticed scattered about spoke in low voices as if not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of such a tranquil spot. Harper hadn’t been here more than ten minutes and she was as relaxed as if she’d been hypnotized by a master.

  “Ready?” Ashton’s low voice rumbled behind her.

  She turned and willingly accepted the hand he held out to her. “I love it here.”

  “I’m glad.”

  They walked down a path bordered by hanging lanterns that wound through the vegetation behind the cottages. When they reached the last one, Ashton unlocked the door and pushed it open. Harper took a few steps inside and hesitated in the dimness until Ashton located a light switch.

  She gasped in delight.

  The tent fabric was held up by a pole in the middle of the large space, forming a fifteen-foot-high ceiling. There was a king-size bed with white bedding, a walnut wardrobe with glass doors and a chandelier suspended overhead, and a sitting area that held a couch flanked by two chairs and a fireplace. Golden light spilled from an assortment of lamps both attached to the olive-green walls and scattered on the various small tables. A bottle of champagne was cooling in a wine bucket on the colonial-style coffee table.

  Kicking off her sandals, she curled her toes into the thick area rug that covered the tent’s wood floor. After a slow spin to catalog their accommodations, she pulled Ashton toward her and dazzled him with a long, sexy kiss. “I’ve been in five-star hotels that weren’t as nice as this,” she murmured, leaning her cheek against his heaving chest. “It’s
the most perfect place I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  A knock sounded on the screen door. Ashton’s arms tightened around her briefly before he went to answer. It was a porter. He deposited their luggage inside the door and showed them the canvas flaps they could roll down over the wall of screen windows if the night grew too chilly. When he left, Harper turned to Ashton with a predatory smile and backed him up to the couch.

  He ripped his navy Henley shirt over his head while her fingers plucked his belt loose and released the button that held his waistband closed. As she unzipped his pants, she used her free hand to shove him onto the couch. He landed with a soft bounce, and she climbed onto his lap, her knees sinking into the pale gold cushions on either side of his thighs.

  With her fingers tangled in his hair, she sought his mouth with hers in an open, wet kiss that left no doubt about her intentions. He gave her all the passion she demanded, groaning deep in his chest as she rocked against his swollen erection, the brief contact satisfying neither of them. Her fingers stroked over his skin in hot, frantic movements. The feel of him brushing against where she needed him the most shot a bolt of the purest frustration through her.

  Her hunger communicated itself to Ashton. He stripped off her T-shirt and popped the clasp of her bra, tossing both aside with a ragged exhale. Then his fingers cupped her bare breasts, kneading evocatively until her nipples pebbled against his palms. The thrumming in her blood grew more urgent.

  She sucked on his lip and let his breath fill her. A growl greeted her ears as she eased her hand between their bodies and lifted him free of his confining clothes. Smiling, she nipped his neck and at the same time grasped his erection firmly and stroked from base to tip before putting her mouth down over him. His hips bucked. He let out a startled curse, and she chuckled.

  “Damn.” He had no more words.

  His head fell back against the cushion as she continued her slow, steady strokes. When she felt she had him completely beneath her spell, she slid his pants down his muscular thighs and tossed them aside. Naked, he lay half sprawled before her, a gorgeous powerful male who was all hers.

  Quick as she could, Harper shimmied out of her pants and returned to her earlier position on the couch. Without opening his eyes, Ashton ran his hands over the curve of her hips and butt and down the back of her thighs. She gasped when his fingers dipped into the heat of her and stroked deep. Shuddering, she braced her hands against his shoulders and surrendered to the pleasure he gave.

  He lifted her so he could fill his mouth with her breast. Harper wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a soft cry as he sucked hard. Pummeled by desire, she rode the waves of pleasure, each one a little stronger than the last.

  “Ashton, I can’t wait any longer.”

  He eased her down until she was poised over him. She was so wet that he slid inside her an inch without meaning to. He intended to savor the anticipation, let the hunger build, but he underestimated Harper’s passion. With a smile of sheer bliss she lowered herself onto his shaft, taking him deep. The perfection of her snug fit cradled him in a way that he’d never known before. Almost immediately, she began to move, her hips dancing in a seductive rhythm that slammed into his willpower and sent his lust into overdrive.

  Digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her backside, he began to thrust in time with her movements. Her breasts swayed, hypnotically close to his face as she arched her back and surrendered to the pressure building inside her.

  A soft keening escaped her parted lips as her skin flushed red. Ashton slowed his movements and deepened each thrust, watching her come apart. Her body bowed, muscles tensing as she climaxed. In this magical place he felt humbled by her vulnerability and her strength. She’d given him her all, held nothing back. She opened her eyes and locked gazes at him.

  “That was incredible.” She licked her lips and puffed out a breath, then murmured, “Come for me.”

  At her command, he renewed his drive toward orgasm. He pumped into her, distantly hearing her encouraging words. It was over faster than he would have liked. Her hands on his body, her inner muscles clenching to increase that amazing friction and her teeth on his earlobe sent him spiraling into one hell of a climax. He came for what seemed like forever. The pleasure of his release was almost painful in its intensity.

  While the last spasms were fading he wrapped his arms around her slim form and buried his face in her neck. He drifted his fingertips over the bumps of her spine and waited for the hammering in his chest to slow. It hurt to breathe.

  “You are amazing,” he said.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” She kissed his neck. “How long do we have until dinner?”

  “A couple hours, I think.” Sucking in a lungful of her spicy scent, he closed his eyes and imprinted this moment forever on his soul. “But if I don’t eat until morning, I’ll be fine.”

  “Won’t Franco wonder what happened to us?”

  “Oh, he’ll know. He got a look at you while you stood beside the pool. And he’ll understand if my appetite this evening won’t be sated by food.”

  She poked him in the ribs and made him grunt. “Is there a bathroom in this lovely tent or do we bathe in the river?”

  “Only if you wish to meet a crocodile face-to-face.” He pushed aside damp strands of her hair and drifted his lips across her cheek, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. “There’s an outdoor shower.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for that much adventure.”

  “Then I won’t recommend the fried caterpillars Franco might have on the menu.”

  Harper shuddered. “I’m sure you’ll tell me they’re delicious but I’m just going to have to take your word on that.”

  “There should be a bathroom behind there with a slipper tub.” He pointed to the wall behind the wardrobe.

  Ashton accepted the perfunctory kiss she dropped onto his lips and watched with appreciation as she padded naked to collect her bag and then head to the bathroom. The last of the afternoon sunlight played over her soft skin, highlighting the different textures of bone, sinew and muscle. She had an athletic body that she pushed hard. In fact, she had it all. Resilient body. Strong mind. Romantic heart. Idealist soul.

  Was the last going to survive the meeting with her father? Ashton had a bad feeling about what was to come tomorrow. A man didn’t dedicate himself completely to a lifestyle that involved being gone for several months or even a year at a time without understanding it would be difficult to maintain close relationships. A wife and family wouldn’t be a top priority.

  More than anything Ashton wanted to spare Harper any disappointment Greg LeDay might heap upon her, but she’d come too far to turn back now. The best he could do was be a shoulder to cry on.

  Not wishing his solemn mood to put a damper on their evening, Ashton chose to use the shower outside before dressing for dinner. Slipping on a pair of khaki pants and a beige knit shirt, he toyed with his Saint Christopher medal while he waited for Harper to appear. His mother had given the medal to him on a trip back to South Africa. They were traveling by plane. He’d been six. They’d encountered a storm halfway and been tossed around. While lightning darted around the wings, his mother had removed the medal from her neck and fastened it around his, telling him that Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, would protect him.

  When he’d left home at fifteen, he’d taken the medal with him and had worn it every day since. Ashton wasn’t sure why, whether it was superstition or faith. Whichever it was, it had kept him safe.

  He’d spent more time thinking about his parents in the past week than he had in the past twenty years. Being on the front lines of Harper’s identity struggle had opened doors he’d thought long locked and barred. What awaited him hadn’t been as painful as he’d expected. Having someone he cared about accept him unconditionally
had made the difference.

  Now all he had to do was offer Harper the same unequivocal support, no matter how misguided he thought her decision to confront her biological father was. He would be there to comfort her if things went awry.

  Ten

  Harper’s fingers bit into the passenger door armrest as the Range Rover neared the camp that Greg LeDay was using as the base for the safari he was leading. The sun was lowering toward the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape. This morning they’d overslept and arrived too late to catch LeDay before he took out his clients.

  For the past six hours she and Ashton had been driving around Kruger National Park, hoping for a glimpse of wildlife. The roads they’d taken had been paved, and the truck had decent springs, but her stomach wasn’t feeling particularly settled. She blamed it on nerves. Soon she would get to meet the man who might be her father.

  How it went would determine the rest of her life. There was a great deal riding on the outcome of this meeting.

  “Hang in there.” Ashton’s hand covered hers in a reassuring squeeze. As he’d been doing these past few days, he’d picked up on her mood and knew just what to say.

  “I wish I knew how he was going to react.”

  “Looks like the trucks are back. You should know pretty quick.”

  Before Ashton threw the Range Rover into Park, she spotted Greg LeDay. He wore khaki-colored cotton pants, a short-sleeved beige shirt and a tan vest with six pockets. A wide-brimmed hat in some drab color between gray and brown shielded his face from the sun. But even with that protection, he looked older than the photo on his webpage. Years of living in the bush had etched lines around his eyes and given his skin a look of worn leather.

  Heart thumping erratically, Harper approached the group he was addressing. She’d asked Ashton to hang back and give her time to introduce herself. He wasn’t happy about her request, but he’d agreed.

  LeDay’s gaze found her lingering on the fringes of the crowd and dwelled on her for a moment before he returned his attention to his charges. “This was a great day. Tomorrow we’ll go out and see if we can’t find some cats.”