by Cat Schield
Being selfish at thirty-five wasn’t the same as acting out when he was fifteen. In the years since he’d left home, he’d learned to feel compassion for others the way his parents hoped he would. Even if he hated to admit it and seemed to live his life as if it wasn’t the case, they’d had a powerful influence on him. Maybe it was past time he surrendered to it.
The walkways and outdoor areas of the tent camp were lit with softly glowing oil lamps by the time the Range Rover rolled into a parking space. Ashton glanced at Harper and saw her gaze was fixed on the fanciful beauty of the camp nestled among thousands of acres of wild African countryside.
He took her hand as they traversed the raised walkway to their tent. Although she neither looked his way, nor offered any inkling of her thoughts, she spread her fingers and welcomed the connection.
To Ashton’s great surprise, she began stripping out of her clothes as soon as they entered the tent. Given her difficult day, he expected her to want distance and space. But as she came to stand naked before him and attacked his buttons with single-minded intensity, he decided not to question her motivation.
They tumbled into the big soft bed in a tangle of tongues and limbs. Ashton made love to her with demanding passion, offering no tenderness. She seemed to need none. Her movements beneath him were feverish. Fingernails bit into his skin. Teeth found sensitive areas and left marks.
At last he settled between her thighs, spreading them wide so she would feel a tiny spark of helplessness. Her head thrashed on the pillow as his size and weight pinned her to the mattress, but he hesitated before joining their bodies. He wanted her to recognize his strength, wanted to demonstrate what it felt like to be at his mercy. His power, his determination would protect her from anything, but she had to let him.
As she reached out to touch him, he grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head. She fought his hold, glaring at him the whole time. It wasn’t until her lashes fell and her muscles relaxed that he shifted his hips forward and slid his entire length into her.
Almost immediately her body began to shake with release. He pushed deeper, and she began to cry out. He released her wrists and meshed their fingers, withdrawing so he could drive into her a second time. The strength and swiftness of her climax stirred an uproar in his own body and he followed her over the edge in a matter of seconds.
They lay panting in the aftermath. Ashton shifted to lie on his back and drew her snugly against his side. She fit against him with such blissful perfection that he closed his eyes to savor the moment. For a long time the only sound in the room was their breathing and the muted tick of the clock on the nightstand. Before long, however, as their bodies settled into normal rhythms, he realized the buzzing in his ears wasn’t the pounding of his blood through his veins, but the nighttime chorus of cicadas and frogs.
“Hear that?” Ashton whispered.
Beside him, Harper held her breath and listened. From far off came the sound of someone trying to get a chainsaw going with short quick pulls of the start cord. “Yes.”
“That’s a leopard call.”
A thrill of excitement raced down her arms. “It sounds close.”
“Probably a half mile away.”
Safe in Ashton’s embrace, she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck and smiled. No one could be in better hands than her right now. Absently she traced the scar crisscrossing his abdomen. When she’d touched it before, he’d seemed to withdraw from her. Despite her curiosity, she hadn’t asked him to expand on his days with the gang. This time, he might be more open to her inquisitiveness.
“More knife play?”
His answer took a long time coming. “Yes.”
Hearing the tightness in his voice, she held silent. They were old scars. From a lifetime ago. Long healed, but permanent reminders of what...?
Beneath her hand his torso rose and fell on a deep breath. The force of it ruffled the hair scattered across her shoulder and tickled her skin.
“Chapman didn’t hire weaklings.” His voice sounded ghostly in the dim room. “Everyone had to prove they could fight. Even a fifteen-year-old boy whose only knife experience had come from slicing vegetables.” His short laugh held no amusement. “He was a sadistic bastard. Once a week he pitted one of his crew against another in sporting matches. Some sport. Whoever drew first blood won. Three losses and you were out.” Ashton threw his forearm over his eyes. “Throat slit, dumped in the jungle for the scavengers to feast on.”
Harper couldn’t imagine what this had been like for a teenager. “Why’d anyone stay working for him?”
“He made them rich. How do you think Franco could open this place?”
“Why did you stay?”
“I was proving a point to my parents.”
“At the risk of your life?”
“Who doesn’t think they’re invincible at fifteen? I was big for my age. I’d gotten into a lot of trouble fighting the neighborhood kids. What I lacked was the technique to fight with a knife. Franco took me under his wing right away, but I didn’t learn fast enough and lost two weeks in a row.”
“So Chapman wanted you dead?”
Ashton shook his head. “I don’t think so. The pairings were random. It was bad luck is all. My second bout I almost took the guy out. His reach was longer, but he was bulky and I was fast.” He caught her fingers and drew them to a spot on his left side just below the ribs. “A wild swing caught me here. It took twenty stitches to sew me up.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t die from infection.”
“My luck turned when Chapman didn’t pull my name for two months. I spent a lot of time with Franco after that. Never lost again.”
The strain in Ashton’s voice betrayed the toll that had taken on him. He might not have killed anyone directly, but he had to know that by saving himself he was signing someone else’s death warrant. From missionaries’ son to criminal to world-renowned chef.
“You can’t forgive yourself.”
“Should I?”
“What happened wasn’t your fault. Chapman’s game went on whether you were there or not. Those men made a choice just as you did. And you got out.”
“But I never turned him in. When the opportunity presented itself I ran.”
And pursued by guilt he’d been running ever since.
“Do you really want the cooking show in New York?” she asked. “I can’t help but feel you’ll be turning your back on what made you successful.”
“And what is that?”
“You thrived in situations that would terrify most people. Every episode contained an edge of danger that kept me glued to the TV.”
“As much as I enjoyed doing the show, I’m looking to change my image. Go more mainstream.” He rolled away from her and sat with his legs hanging off the side of the bed, his back toward her. “The network is going to push it hard. My popularity will skyrocket. It’s what I’ve been working for.”
“And all this time I thought it was the joy of food that motivated you.” If he hoped to find legitimacy in success, how high did his star have to rise before he could be at peace with what he’d done to survive?
“More viewers means my culinary point of view reaches more people.”
With their earlier rapport slipping away, Harper left the bed and slipped into a pair of leggings and a sweater. She handed Ashton his clothes and waited in silence while he put them on. Then she drew him out onto the deck and stood beside him near the rail, looking out over the river.
Surrounded by the night sounds it was easy to feel one with the bush. For several minutes they listened without speaking. One call was repeated several times, causing Harper to break the quiet.
“What is that?”
“A baboon sounding an alarm. Probably because of the leopard we heard earlier.”
“
You were right when you said we’re the sum of our experiences. The things that you’ve been through had a profound effect on the man you’ve become. If you’d stayed with your parents you wouldn’t resent them any less, but your strength of will might never have been tested and you might never have discovered the heights of your courage.” Harper paused to let her words sink in. “But I’m right, too. You inherited their generosity of spirit and desire to help those less fortunate. How many thousands of people have been helped through the foundations you promote?”
“I’m nothing more than a spokesman. I don’t tangibly help anyone.”
“What about Dae? You saved him from going to prison for something he didn’t do and taught him how to cook. Someday he’ll run one of your restaurants. How far is that from where he started?”
Ashton bumped his shoulder against her, forcing her to step to the side in order to maintain her balance. His fingers snaked around her waist and pulled her against his side. “This was supposed to be your journey to self-discovery, not mine.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Suddenly she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “You know what? I don’t care about the man who impregnated my mother. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s father. Why should I take that personally and cry about it?” She gripped the railing hard. “I need to worry about me.”
“So, you’ve decided what to do when you get home?”
“I’m going to do what everyone expects of me and keep my mother’s secret. I came to South Africa in search of who I am. Now I know. I’m Harper Fontaine. Future CEO of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts. I’ve worked my whole life to run the company. I don’t know who else to be.”
“And that’s all you need to make you happy in the long run?”
“It’s been my goal since I was five, so, achieving it will bring me great satisfaction.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Eleven
Harper woke to an empty bed and a heavy heart. From the light outside she gathered it was a few hours after sunrise. She sat up and glanced around the tent, but from the room’s low energy level, she could tell Ashton wasn’t nearby. Flopping back onto the pillows, she closed her eyes and willed herself to stop feeling so vulnerable and out of sorts. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t endured setbacks in her life before. Failure was a necessary part of growing. But one emotional blow after the other had weakened her ability to recover swiftly.
Still, she did recover and an hour after waking, she was showered, dressed, packed and on her way to breakfast. That Ashton still hadn’t made an appearance didn’t bother her. He and Franco hadn’t spent much time together since they’d arrived. Ashton was probably with his old friend. Or maybe taking a walk along the river. There were several trails around the camp.
Harper was accustomed to spending a great deal of time alone. Being surrounded by staff wasn’t like sharing a bathroom and a bed with someone. The intimacy she’d enjoyed with Ashton these past few days had been pretty all-consuming. She wouldn’t blame him if he needed a break.
And she needed to get used to being without him. She had no illusions about their relationship. It was an interlude, similar to what her mother had enjoyed with LeDay. A break from routine. A wonderful adventure. Harper recognized that she couldn’t hold on to Ashton. His career took him all over the world. Hers kept her grounded in one place.
Except he was on the verge of doing a show that would keep him in New York for an extended period of time. They could be together if she accepted the job of Fontaine’s CEO. Unfortunately, he’d made her question if that was the best choice for her.
As she was finishing up her breakfast, Ashton found her. She didn’t ask him where he’d been and he didn’t volunteer the information. His mouth was set in a grim line as he sat down across from her and poured himself a cup of coffee from the silver pot on the table.
“Are you okay?” she asked, unable to shake the feeling that their magical trip was over.
“Fine.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I had a little something earlier.” He sipped his coffee and stared past her. “I saw that you’re packed.”
“I wasn’t sure what time the plane would be returning us to Johannesburg so I thought I’d be ready to leave.”
“I told them noon.”
Harper checked her watch. If they left in the next fifteen minutes, they would be right on time. She reached out her hand and placed it over his, calling his attention back to her.
“Thank you for coming to Africa to help me. I’ve really appreciated having you here.”
“No need to thank me.”
His short replies were starting to irritate her. She needed to get to the bottom of it before they started the long journey home.
“So this is it then?”
“What do you mean?”
“The end of the road for us. It was a fun week, but now it’s over.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.” Her throat tightened, but she’d taken too many emotional risks to let fear dominate her now. “I want for us to be together.” For the first time she understood Violet’s decision to put her marriage before her ambition. “It would be nice to hear that you feel the same.”
“Are you sure you really know what you want? A few days ago you couldn’t wait to run off to Africa to meet your biological father. What would you have done if he’d wanted to have a relationship with you? Would you have stayed in Africa? Made a new life here?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Then last night you decided you weren’t going to let anything stand in the way of your becoming CEO. You claim you want to know who you are, yet instead of pushing forward and doing what you want for a change, you fall back into old patterns.”
Was Ashton asking her to quit the hotel business and spend the rest of her life...doing what?
She still didn’t know her true passion. Damn him for being right. And for being the practical one for a change. She needed the old Ashton, the impulsive one, to sweep her into adventure. She was sick of planning her future. She’d come to Africa because she wanted to be bold and daring. But obviously that wasn’t her nature. It had taken less than a week before she regressed to comfortable patterns. What she needed to do was take a risk and keep taking them until she felt completely free.
“I love you,” she said, captured by a yearning that grew stronger the more time she spent with Ashton. “I can’t imagine my days without you. I’m ready to give up everything and be with you. Just tell me you want me.”
Ashton closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to give up anything.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Don’t use me as an excuse to avoid admitting who you are and what you truly want.”
“I already told you, I want you.”
“Because it’s easier to explain to your grandfather that you want to be with the man you love than disappoint him by revealing you’re not actually his granddaughter?”
“That’s unfair.”
“Is it?”
She couldn’t answer him truthfully so she traded him question for question. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Would you give up the new show and go back to doing The Culinary Wanderer again?” It wasn’t fair to ask him to set aside his goals. So what if she didn’t think he would be happy. They’d been lovers for little more than a week. Who was she to judge what was best for him?
“I already quit and I don’t want to go backward.”
Her heart sank. “Then you’re going to do whatever it takes to make the new network want you.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then I guess we’re destined to disappoint each other, aren’t we?”
“I don’t
believe that’s true.”
Was his faith so much greater than hers? She wished she could do as he asked and start over, but she’d tried that when she’d come here to meet her father and look how poorly that had turned out.
Her phone chimed. A text message from Violet had come in.
Grandfather has had a mild stroke. He’s going to be okay. Wants to see you.
A sound in her ears swelled as if every insect in the entire bush had chosen that moment to sing. Disoriented, she shook her head to clear it. Ashton grabbed her hand and said something that she couldn’t catch, but she guessed he was asking her what was wrong.
With her voice unable to escape her tight throat, she showed him the message.
“You should call and let them know we’re coming.”
“We?” she whispered. “You’re coming with me?”
“Whatever you need from me. I’ll be there.”
* * *
Ashton didn’t expect to be heading to Las Vegas mere hours after completing the transatlantic flight from Johannesburg. While the charter jet he’d hired cruised over the heartland of the U.S., he fidgeted with his phone, restlessly checking for updated emails and new texts, knowing if anything came in he would be notified with a tone.
That he’d left Harper behind wasn’t sitting well, but she’d insisted. An hour before they’d touched down at JFK, she’d sat straighter in her seat and gathered herself. He’d gotten used to taking care of her these past few days. Discovered he liked that she needed him. But with their return to the States, her independent nature had reasserted itself.
And she’d been right when she’d insisted the restaurant was days away from opening. He needed to be at Batouri overseeing the last-minute details. He should have been there these past five days instead of traveling to South Africa. But Dae’s updates had reassured him that the staff was working well together. Chef Cole had proven to be a good choice. He was organized and a good leader. Harper had been right about that.
