by Kiru Taye
She picked up one of the cushions covered in pastel fabric. “Is this Ginika’s handwork?”
Ebuka glanced up as he poured hot water into two mugs with teabags.
“Yes. She wanted to make the workers comfortable when they had to spend the night in here.” A smile curled his lips, the fondness he had for his sister evident in his tone.
“Make the workers comfortable? What’s that about?” She huffed, surprised. The people she knew would never go the extra length for their workers. Paying them was enough.
“Do you want sugar and milk in your tea?” he asked, seemingly ignoring her question. Or perhaps thinking about it.
“No milk. I’m lactose intolerant,” she volunteered, not sure why she gave the information freely. “Two cubes of sugar, please.”
He picked the white cubes out of the blue box and popped them into a mug. Then he stirred and handed over the steaming cup. “Food should be ready soon.”
“I can help.” She moved to stand.
“There’s no need.” He shook his head. “You worked really hard out there today, and I appreciate it. So just relax. I’m not always going to be this generous.”
He walked back toward the kitchen.
Smiling, she turned to the side to watch him. “Does that mean I’ve got the job?”
He glanced sideways with a smile on his face that made her heart skip a beat. “Yes, you’ve got the job.”
“Great. Thank you.” She blew into the tea before taking a sip. It tasted good, surprisingly.
“About your question. Every member of staff is like family, and we treat them as such. I believe if we take care of our people, they, in turn, will take care of the farm and do their jobs well, which makes for a successful business. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
Speechless, Xandra rubbed a hand over her breastbone to ease the tightness in her chest.
Was this guy for real, or was he just giving her the spiel?
To be fair, he and his sister had been charming and accommodating since her arrival. No boss she knew would stand over a hot stove cooking while his employee sat on a chair drinking tea that he had made.
Ebuka was an enigma she wanted to unravel. The reason she hadn’t put a bullet through him, yet. Also, she wanted to fuck him.
“When we get back to the house, mention your milk allergy to Ginika, so she makes sure the menus cater for your dietary requirement,” his voice roused her from her thoughts.
He was serious about the whole taking-care-of-staff business. No one else bothered about her dietary requirement, except Zoe. But Zoe wanted to get into her knickers. So that didn’t count.
“Do you feed your staff as well?” she asked.
“Yes. The ranch is isolated, and the area is rural. People can’t pop out to buy lunch as you do in towns or cities. During the busy seasons, they spend nights on the premises too. So, we provide all the meals here.”
“Makes sense.”
“I’ll also introduce you to the other employees,” he continued. “Mama Ebele is the housekeeper and cooks the meals. Hector, Obiano and Adiele are full-time. The other staff are either part-time or seasonal.”
He moved around the space like he owned it. Of course, the ranch was his. But it was more than that.
He had the air of a man with a purpose. A man in control of his universe. A man who cared about his people, who called them family.
He fascinated her.
And the smell of the food made her mouth water.
“Was there someone else doing my job before?” she asked, wanting to keep him talking, so she could understand his link with Commissioner Nweke.
“No.” He paused from stirring whatever was in the pan. “We’re expanding. I’ve been fighting for years to get permission from the officials to extend the ranch. We finally got the license so now the plans can go ahead.”
“Sounds good. So why did it take so long to get the permit?”
He shrugged, transferred the pot onto the counter and started scooping the food into ceramic plates.
She sat straight as he brought the plates and cutleries over and placed them on the low table.
“Local rice. Thanks,” she said as she lifted a fork and took a bite. The flavours of palm oil, smoked fish, tomatoes and spices exploded on her tongue. “Yummy … How do you store food here considering there is no refrigerator?”
“The clay larder is designed to stay cool all year for the yams and cocoyams. Then we have dried grains and spices, canned vegetables. The meat and fish are dried, so, they last longer.”
He settled on the settee. There wasn’t anywhere else to sit aside from the floor or the chairs covered in wet clothes.
Their bodies didn’t touch. Shame.
“You seem to have this all worked out.”
They were similar in that aspect. She liked to plan for all eventualities.
Then again, sitting here, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, eating a meal prepared by the man she was sent to kill was not in her original plan.
She was flexible, adaptable to any situation, a skill key to her survival.
However, she’d never stopped to ask why a target was chosen like she was doing now.
Why did Nweke want Ebuka dead?
Still unable to answer the niggling question, she carried on eating. Glad to have some food in her stomach. Although she’d learned to survive prolonged periods without food, the work today had sapped a lot of energy. “This is pretty good.”
“Thank you.” He sounded surprised.
Done with the food, she volunteered to wash up, and he let her. She even made tea for him with hot water from the aluminium kettle and dried milk from the tin.
They sat quietly, sipping the tea. There was no TV or anything for entertainment. Not that she expected such in the remote hut. She’d left her phone and gadgets in the car.
After a while, he placed his mug on the table and rubbed his left shoulder, rotating his arm.
She put her cup down. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I sometimes get twinges in my shoulder blade. I think the cold rain just aggravated it.”
“Here, let me help.” She wiggled her fingers as well as eyebrows. “I’m good with my hands.”
He stared at her and shook his head. “It’ll be fine.”
“Come on. I promise it’ll be good.” She stood and walked over to stand on the side of the sofa, leaning over him.
Sighing, he leaned forward, surrendering his back.
She rubbed her palms together to warm them and placed both hands on his back. The muscles twitched as he sucked in a breath.
She smiled and kept rubbing until she found the knot of muscles. She kneaded, working the knot in an outer arch.
His body relaxed, and he sighed. “You’re right. This feels good.”
“I told you so,” she muttered silently and continued massaging until all the tight muscles loosened.
He groaned, his whole body going pliant.
She carried on rubbing the rest of his back for a few more minutes.
He didn’t stop her, although it was apparent that she had moved on from the original spot. Her fingers trailed to his hips.
He swivelled suddenly and grabbed her hands.
Her breath hitched. She hadn’t been expecting him to move that quickly.
“What is this game you’re playing?” he asked in a husky voice.
His expression made her heart hammer against her ribs.
She swallowed to clear the lump in her throat. “It’s not a game. I want you, and I think you want me too. We’re adults— “
“You’re my employee, and what you’re implying is inappropriate.” He glared, still holding her hands.
She could escape his hold. She didn’t, liking the way he restrained her.
“Have you never done anything inappropriate? Never been with an employee? It isn’t illegal.”
Granted, she was used to interacting with gangsters, people who had no qualms
about breaking the laws. So, it was strange to be around someone who baulked at doing something pleasurable and legal.
“It might not be illegal. But it’s immoral. I’ve never been involved with one of my workers. Being with you is equivalent to taking advantage of you. That’s wrong. I don’t want you to feel that your job safety depends on sexual favours to me.”
His honesty unravelled her. Her stomach dropped.
His sincerity was visible in his dark eyes. He was a good man, principled, compassionate, even to a stranger because he didn’t really know her.
The man she would have to kill was trying to protect her.
What now? She stood still, unsure of what to say. She’d never been this conflicted in her life. She shouldn’t care, had never bothered before.
He released her hands, turned away.
“No,” she said, moving to stand in front of him. “Would it make you feel better if I resigned? I’m no longer your employee.”
“What? No.”
“I need you more than I want the job. I can get another job. But there’s only one you. Please.”
Not that she needed the farmworker job anyway.
Her hands shook, and for the first time in her adult life, desperation clawed at her skin. She hadn’t begged anyone for anything since she left the orphanage.
He stared into her eyes, searching, probing.
She wanted to avert her gaze, to avoid appearing vulnerable. But didn’t move.
Did he see the pain she had bottled up for years? Did he see the little girl who begged the nuns not to take her away from the only home she had known? Did he see the cold-hearted woman who could kill without flinching?
“It’s just the two of us here for the next few hours. I promise I’ll leave in the morning if you want me to go.” A shame because she wanted him for more than one night.
“No. You don’t have to leave.”
He closed his eyes briefly and puffed out a breath. Lifting his eyelids, he grabbed her hand and tugged.
Breath whooshed out as she landed on his hard body. Damn. He was strong.
Her pulse rate skyrocketed.
He clamped her arms-to-sides and lifted until she straddled his lap.
“You are going to be trouble,” he said, his expression more lustful than disapproving.
She just smiled in response. He was right. She was trouble for him in more ways than one.
He rolled his eyes upwards and shook his head. “Okay. If we do this, we do it my way. It’s just sex, and it’s just for tonight.”
A fluttering sensation settled in her gut.
“Deal,” she said in a breathless voice.
SEVEN
THE MOMENT Allie agreed to the deal something sparked within Ebuka. A dark craving long dormant inside him. It caught and spread fire through his veins, making his grip on her arms tighten.
The bold way she’d tried to kiss him had caught him off-guard and roused his suspicions again. He’d wondered if his old friend Ralph Nweke had sent her as a rouse to settle a disagreement between them. He wasn’t used to women snatching kisses from acquaintances. Then again he hadn’t dated in years. Maybe he was out of touch with etiquette.
“I need you more than I want the job.”
His resistance had crumbled when she’d spoken those words, accompanied by the most fragile and genuine expression he’d seen from her since her arrival.
She’d seemed to be a woman hiding her true self. But at that moment, he’d caught a glimpse of the real person behind the mask.
A person who needed him. Someone he couldn’t resist.
He thrived when he took care of others—his family, his workers.
Now, for tonight, he could take care of Allie too. Give her what she needed. Himself.
Raising his left hand, he held her chin, keeping her still.
Her amber eyes darkened, the pupils blowing out. She smelled of musk. Arousal. Unable to hold back, he lowered his head, needing to taste her.
At first, there was a little tension as if she was cautious. Her heart-shaped lips were pliant, soft, giving way to his tongue, letting him slide and glide. She tasted of sweet and spice, decadent and beyond any price.
Moaning, she clung to him, grabbing his nape, demolishing any gaps between them.
The tightness in his chest loosened. He’d missed the touch and taste of a woman, missed being needed like this.
The stresses of the business, of the past few years, meant he hadn’t been able to relax fully in female company.
He broke the kiss, leaning forehead against hers. Their breaths intermingled.
“Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
The towel around her chest loosened, revealing two petite breasts, perfect for her slender almost boyish body. She was perfect. Although he would rather have her hair short. But that was a preference. Not a deal-breaker.
He moulded one breast under his palm, pinched the taut nipple.
She gasped. “Anything you want.”
Jerking, he scrutinised her face. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yes. You can do whatever you want with me.”
His heart raced at the possibilities. He tugged the nipple between thumb and forefinger, hard.
She let out a long moan, arched her back and presented her chest. Oh. She liked a little pain.
He repeated the action with the other nipple, and her response was the same.
She was a different person from the woman he’d met in his house earlier. That one had seemed cold and distant and strange. This woman was warm and enticing and beautiful.
Ebuka loved the skin to skin contact. Loved her responses to him. His heart thundered in anticipation.
“Anything you want.”
No one had ever offered such free rein before. There’d always been boundaries and limits. Worried he would break his lovers; he’d learned to suppress his true desires.
Now like a kid taken to a toy store and told he could pick any plaything, adrenaline rushed through his veins. He could unleash his cravings, no matter how depraved.
He trailed his left hand from her chin to her nape and tangled fingers into the damp hair, gripping tight.
Allie arched her body again, lips parting.
“You make the most beautiful sounds of surrender.” He placed a kiss in the hollow of her collarbone.
Another moan. Almost a whimper this time. “You make me want to give everything to you.”
“Only if that’s what you want.” Lifting his head, he tugged her hair and leaned in to kiss her.
She relaxed in acceptance, opening, letting him in with no hesitation.
He explored her mouth, loving her taste—sweet tea, spice and Allie. Not rushing it, He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, letting it go from exploratory to intense.
He licked inside her mouth and tangled their tongues, tugging and pulling each other. Lust was a fire in his veins, heating his body, his erection hard and pulsing.
She wriggled, hips gyrating against his hardness with abandon. Groaning, he lifted his head.
“Ezigbo obele m,” he said, watching for her response. A fitting pet name, considering her size and the age difference. He had at least ten years on her. She had to be in her twenties.
Her pupils widened briefly, and her eyelids drooped in deference. Interesting.
She understood the reference, although he guessed she wasn’t Igbo. And she accepted his authority. Acceded his use of the phrase ‘my good little’ and the implied power dynamic.
She was his responsibility. Here and now.
It was a heady feeling, caught between taking what he wanted and respecting her capitulation. In a world where women were expected to submit to a man’s dominance without question, he wanted submission that he had earned or had been gifted.
Demanding it was easy. Earning it was the challenge.
He wanted the challenge. Wanted to know that when she yielded, she was his. He reached between their b
odies and removed the towel, dropping it.
She gasped and rocked her hips.
“Stay still,” he said in a low voice.
She stilled in obedience and took shallow breaths as he slid his fingers between her labia, stroking the dewy slippery flesh.
She made a small noise that sent a thrill down his spine.
He held her nape, her body bent in compliance, keeping her still as he worked her pussy, caressing, stroking.
Pulse thumping at the base of her neck, her breathing became heavy, and she rocked her hips again.
“I told you to keep still. I’m going to tie you up.”
Her body froze, and her eyes went wide. “No, you can’t.”
Now, they were talking. She had limits, after all.
“Are you trying to tell me what to do? Remember, I can do whatever I want.” He loosened his grip, waiting to see what she would do.
Her muscles tensed, as though she would bolt. “You’re going to have to make me.”
She sprang off his lap and stared down, eyes sparkling with the challenge.
She wanted to see what he would do, how he would react. If he was worthy of her submission.
He hid his smile, excitement fizzing in his blood. This had turned into a game, and he was ready to play.
“Obele, come back here,” he ordered.
She backed away, giggling. “Make me.”
Ebuka stood, reaching out.
She swerved and bolted across the room towards the door.
Discarding his towel, he gave chase, their footsteps pounding on the hard floor. She yanked the door open, raced across the veranda and down the steps.
His heart pounded like galloping horses. Rain splattered on the thatch.
With adrenaline high and body temperature up, he didn’t feel the sting of the cold rain. The grass was slippery, and he had to curl his toes with each stride to stay upright. The sky had darkened, and not much could be seen beyond the reaches of the light streaming from the front door and windows.
Allie ran in a circular motion around the perimeter of the hut, swerving each time he reached for her. Watching her naked body wet with rain heightened his arousal.
She slipped as she rounded the corner to the front of the cabin.
He took the opportunity and leapt at her, crashing into her body.
