by Kiru Taye
The boy pointed to a row of white plastic chairs and tables covered in colourful umbrellas.
Faith drew in a long breath in relief. Saved by the interruption. With the reprieve, she tossed her stilettos into the back on the car and patted down her shift linen dress, getting her composure back.
With a smile on his face, Mark held out his hand. She stared at the long fingers extended in invitation and tried not to think about the devastation they’d just caused to her body.
I can do this. Mark is just a friend. This is just friends hanging out. No more. No less.
With a puff of breath to bolster her resolve, she placed her hand in his. They walked across the shifting sands and she ignored the tingles travelling down her arms.
He helped her into her seat, deposited the food and drinks on the table, and tipped the boy.
"Oga, thank you," he said and moved on when he saw some more people coming to the beach.
With Mark seated, their gazes met again and she lowered her eyes, not wanting to get lost in his dark pair again. That’s when she noticed she subconsciously rubbed her left palm which Mark had been holding, as if clinging on to his lingering warmth.
I’m in so much trouble.
The corner where they sat didn’t have direct light, lit only by the silver streaks of the rising moon. Mark handed her one of the parcels. She unwrapped it, revealing a stack of sliced grilled beef kebabs dusted with a spicy herb seasoning and served with slices of tomatoes. Spice hung in the cool air, tickling her nostrils and watering her mouth. He took the bottles of malt and clicked the caps against each other. The tops popped off.
"That’s a neat trick," she said, impressed.
His shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I learned it years ago in boarding school."
"It’s not a very billionaire thing to do." She couldn’t forget this man came from one of the richest families in West Africa and ran a company valued in billions of dollars.
"Are you saying being resourceful isn’t a billionaire thing to do?" He raised one dark brow, his lips quirked as if he suppressed laughter.
"A resourceful billionaire would order someone else to open the cap, like the boy who was here earlier."
"Tonight, I’m just a man on a date—"
"We’re not a date." She had to push the words past her dry throat caused by the husky edge to his voice.
"Aren’t we?" He stretched out his arms across the table, reaching for hers. She pulled her hand down to her lap. If he touched her, she would lose all coherent thinking.
"No, Mark. This is just friends hanging out." She stared at the gentle waves lapping the shore, reflecting the silver of the moon.
"Okay. Tonight, I’m just a man hanging out with a beautiful friend. The billionaire is locked away until tomorrow morning." He pulled back his hands and unwrapped his parcel. "Or would you rather have the billionaire?"
She whipped her head around, the coolness in his voice unsettling her. "I never said that."
"Perhaps not. But I would like to hear you say it. Who would you rather be with right now? Mark, the billionaire, or Mark, the man?"
His hands stilled, his gaze riveted on her, as if her answer would be critical to him.
Yes, she admired Mark, the billionaire. He had so many business qualities she wanted to emulate. But right here, right now, this man sitting in front of her called to her like no other man ever had. After a stressful week, he made her laugh, her mind relaxed, and her body that had lain dormant for five years awoke.
"I would rather have Mark, the man," she blurted out.
A glorious smile spread across his face. "I’m glad to hear that."
He took a bite of his suya. Her focus glued to his kissable lips and rippling throat as he chewed and swallowed. She gulped, suddenly wishing he had kissed her in the car.
"You do know that I’m not going to kiss you if you eat onions."
Oh my God, what did I just say out loud? Somebody shoot me now.
Her face heated up as his lips widened and he flashed a set of white teeth.
He started picking out the onions from his suya and piling them at the corner of the wrapping. "We can’t have that now, can we?"
"I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry."
"Don’t be sorry for speaking your mind with me, sweetheart. Moreover, I’m glad you said it. I don’t want any excuses when I kiss you later."
Oh, God! She groaned inwardly and lowered her head to eat. He chuckled.
They ate in silence for a little while. The sound of the lapping sea waves and people talking and laughing on the beach kept them company.
"So, tell me. You mentioned you are not in the dating market? I checked and from all accounts, you are single. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked to see you."
Lifting her head, their gazes connected. His eyes glinted with intensity. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned away again, concerned about his effect on her. One minute he made her laugh. The next, he had the ability to stare at her as if he wanted to unwrap her soul.
How did he do it? Mark, the joker who made her laugh, was easier to cope with than Mark, the inquisitor.
"Faith, talk to me. I really want to get to know you better."
She sighed. "The truth is that I'm not like you, or perhaps your usual girlfriends. I mean, you change girlfriends as often as I visit hairdressers. Whereas I...I haven’t been in a relationship since when I did my youth service."
"Why? You’re a very attractive woman. I don’t get it," he said as he rolled up his now empty paper and took out his handkerchief from his pocket.
"Hold on." Faith reached in her bag and pulled out her pack of wet wipes. "I keep these in my bag as they come in handy sometimes."
"Thank you." He took a sheet. "I always wonder what women carry in their oversize bags that weigh a ton. Now I know one of it."
She laughed. "Well, you have to be prepared for any eventuality."
"I guess you do. I’ll take that for you." He reached for her empty paper wrapper. "I’ll find a bin and get rid of these."
He walked off and Faith used her time alone to think about his question. Did she really want to share something this intimate with him? Perhaps sharing it would make him understand why she couldn’t be with him, and he would finally give up on any thoughts of dating her.
An ache bloomed in her chest at the idea of not seeing Mark again. He was great company. He made her smile, laugh, and feel like a woman. He also made her feel exposed, and that was somewhere she didn’t want to go.
Mark came back and sat beside her again. "You’re not trying to avoid my question, by any chance, are you?"
He took her hand but she pulled it back and balled it up on her thigh. She didn’t want any physical contact. He would just wear her resolve away.
"No. I’m not avoiding your questions." She paused and exhaled. "I haven’t dated because I’ve been so focused on my career and some of the men I’ve met are afraid of a career woman like me. I'm not very good girlfriend material."
"Nonsense," he said. "Why would you say such a thing?"
She stared at the lapping waves before turning back to Mark. "I've been accused of being frosty."
"You've got to be kidding me." He raised his brow and she shook her head. "The woman who kissed me back in Jo-burg blazed with such heat, I can't forget her.
He leaned forward and feathered her cheek with his index fingertip, leaving a trail of prickling skin.
"Seriously?" Delight bubbled inside her at his words.
"Absolutely." His grin filled with intent and he winked. "A man who can't raise your passion is obviously not for you."
"Perhaps," she replied. "But there were others who would rather have someone they can boss about and who’s going to stay home and bear children."
His dark eyes caught the glint of the moon as he watched her intently. He didn’t say anything immediately, as if thinking about her words.
"Are you saying you have no desire to have children?"
&nb
sp; She shivered in disgust. "The last thing I want is to become a baby-making factory for a man who thinks that’s all I’m worth."
"Woah. I’m sure no man wants to turn you into that," he said, raising his hands defensively.
"Try telling that to my father," she snapped.
She’d grown so riled up; she stood and stomped off down the beach. Her shoes sank into the sand from her heavy steps. She bent over and yanked them off her feet, holding them in her hand. The warm grains of sand between her toes had a soothing effect on her body and anger.
She hadn’t walked very far when she felt Mark’s presence beside her. He didn’t say anything as he strolled beside her. She stopped and looked him over.
"Whatever you’re going to say, don’t."
He responded by making the zipping gesture across his lips, locking it, and throwing away the key. Laughter bubbled in her chest but she clamped it down, not ready to let him soothe her. He’d taken off his shoes and stood barefoot in the sand, shoes in hand, too.
"Why are your shoes off?" she asked, her tone guarded.
He did a mime of rummaging for something in the air and picked an item, which turned out to be the imaginary key he used to unzip his mouth.
"You know, I gotta act like the natives," he said in a mock Italian accent à la Don Corleone.
The laughter she’d been holding back burst out of her lips and she bent over as her ribs hurt from her squeals. When she finally lifted her head, he still had a glint of humour in his eyes.
"You know you’re unreformable."
"I know, but sweetheart, you love me, right?"
"I won’t go that far." She looked him up and down, still amused.
"Okay, perhaps you like me."
She shrugged. "A little."
"It’s more than a little." He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up. His eyes had lost the humour and grown intense.
"Admit it." His voice had acquired a soothing honey quality.
Everything else faded, leaving just the two of them standing on the moonlit beach. She swallowed, unable to move away. Her insides quivered.
"Yes, I like you more than a little, more than I should," she whispered in a breathless voice.
"And I like you a lot," he said as he pulled her close and moulded her body against hers. "A lot more than I should."
His lips descended on her, his teeth pulling her bottom lip into his mouth as he sucked on it. A spike of pleasure coursed through her body, her heart rate jumped. Rough and warm, his tongue skimmed the outside of her mouth and tunnelled into her welcoming mouth.
She moaned and he swallowed it. Her body responded as if this was where she belonged. Right here. In his arms. Their tongues tangled as he made love to her with his mouth, one of his hands on the rounded part of her bottom, and the other tugging at the short strands at the nape of her neck.
She should stop this, be outraged that he would kiss her. But her body enjoyed this swirl of emotions running through her. She’d never felt anything like it. Not when she’d had her first kiss ever at the ripe age of eighteen. Or her other encounters with men. This felt right. Heavenly. Blissful. Like it was meant to be. Like Mark’s body was built for hers and hers for his.
What a foolish thing to think? Then again, her actions were foolish. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be standing on a public beach kissing a man that every other woman wanted. A man who was also a business rival!
That thought got her moving and she focused all her energy on her hands currently curled in his silk shirt and pushed him back. He released her, looking a little bemused.
"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice husky and seductive.
"We can’t do this." She looked around, glad there was no one close by that could’ve seen them kissing.
"Are you worried about people seeing us?"
"Yes."
"Come on. Let’s head back to the car. Better still, my apartment is not far from here."
"No." She took a deep breath. "That’s not what I meant."
"What, then?" He frowned.
"I mean, we can’t kiss or get involved. Not here on the beach or anywhere else. Not ever."
"You still haven’t given me a good reason why not."
"But—"
He held up his hand to stop her from speaking.
"And before you give me the spiel about men wanting to chain you to the kitchen sink until you deliver a football team of kids, I’ll have you know I’m not looking for a wife, child-bearing or not."
"I..." She opened her mouth and closed it.
"You’re a beautiful woman." He moved closer again. His scent and heat washed over her. "I’d like to get to know you, date you, and perhaps even make love to you, if you’ll let me."
She was so mesmerised she didn’t say anything.
"I’ll be sure to take precautions so there are no resulting babies that you’re so worried about. So, will you let me?"
"I will lose my job," she said when she’d recovered herself.
"What?" His eyes widened and his body stiffened. "You’ll lose your job for dating me?"
"We are business rivals, remember? Conflict of interest. I’ll be accused of passing corporate secrets to you during our pillow talks or whatever."
"I run the same risks, too. I’m sure you can separate work from your personal life. "
"But you haven’t got a job to lose. You’re the boss. I’m not."
"Well, if they sack you, you can always come and work for me."
"No," she replied, her voice breathy. Bad enough seeing him on a personal level. But she didn’t want to have to see him every day at work. She would never be able to cope.
His eyes narrowed and lines appeared on his forehead.
"I’m sure you’re a good boss and all that," she rushed to add. "It’s just that I love my job at City and I have plans of becoming MD in the not too distant future. I don’t want anything like getting involved with you to screw it up."
He heaved a sigh. "I’m a reasonable and very patient man. I’ve had to be to get to this point in my business and personal life. I understand your fears and am willing to back off for now. But get one thing straight. I want you and I’m not going to give up. I just need to find a solution to your problem."
"You—" he pointed to her and back to his chest, "—and me, we’re going to happen." He brushed his lips against her mouth. "And when we do, you’ll see how great we can be together."
He strode back towards the car and she followed him, mulling his words over in her head.
That night, she dropped him over at his apartment. He gave her a brief kiss before she drove back to her house.
True to his words, he didn’t ask her out again on a date. However, they saw each other on occasions and more often once Ebony and Felix announced their wedding. Mark would be the best man and Faith the maid of honour. Which meant they were thrown together again as they helped plan the wedding which was to take place at the end of the year.
The wedding came and went and she survived, just about. How they’d managed to keep their hands off each other throughout the party, she didn’t know. On several occasions, she’d wished he would renege on his promise to leave her alone and just grab her and find some dark corner to make love to her.
Even after the wedding, it seemed they couldn’t be away from each other. Felix had been in a car crash which left him in a coma. Faith had been spending more time with a distraught Ebony, who worried about Felix making a full recovery.
Ebony had taken to spending some nights in hospital. She had dark shadows under her eyes and looked like she’d lost a lot of weight.
"Are you eating, darling? I’m worried about you," Faith said to her friend as she brushed back strands of hair that had fallen on her face.
Ebony shrugged. "I can’t seem to keep any food down these days. To be honest, I haven’t been very hungry recently."
"But you’ve got to eat. You’ve lost a lot of weight. I don’t want to have to visit two people i
n hospital."
Ebony just nodded.
"Tonight, I think you should go home, eat some food, and freshen up."
"No. I can’t leave him."
"You have to eat some food, Ebony. Please."
Ebony's eyes shimmered as tears welled up in her eyes. "Can’t you see it’s my fault he is in here?"
"What are you talking about?" She put her hands on her Ebony’s frail shoulders.
"It’s the same thing that happened to Chidi and Dad. I’m cursed. Anyone close to me either ends up dead or injured."
"Don’t say that." Faith pulled her into her arms as Ebony broke down in tears. She held her friend as she cried her heart out.
Faith’s heart ached for Ebony. Just when she thought her friend’s life had settled into a positive outlook, now she had to deal with the stress of a husband in hospital, and they still weren’t sure when or if he’d make a full recovery.
Even she who hated the thought of marriage couldn’t wish such a horrific start to one for even her worst enemy.
"Dear, it’s not your fault that Felix is in hospital. You didn’t know he was going to have an accident. No one could’ve seen that."
"It was our wedding night and we had an argument. Can’t you see it’s my fault? If he doesn’t wake up, I’ll never forgive myself."
"He will wake up," Faith consoled her. "You’ll see."
Gradually, Ebony’s sniffles calmed down. Faith waited for Ebony and dropped her off at home so that Kola, Felix’s bodyguard, didn’t have to leave his station outside his suite door.
Next time she was in hospital visiting, Mark was there. Even he seemed to have dark shadows under his eyes and it looked as if he hadn’t been sleeping. She was so taken aback by how stressed he looked, her heart went out to him.
Before she knew it, she’d invited him over to her house. His eyes brightened at her invitation and he agreed. When she bid farewell to Ebony and drove home, Mark followed her in his car.
At her house, the gatekeeper opened the metal gates and she drove in and told him to allow the car behind to come in. Mark drove in and parked in the empty spare spot beside her vehicle.
She stepped out and waited for him to come out before opening her front door. She dropped her bag on the table in the hallway and kicked her shoes off, glad to be out of them after a long day in the office and then visiting Ebony.
