Chapter Nine
Simone needed a break. She hadn’t expected this. For three grueling hours, Carlo had dissected every Rufiji Camp employee’s movements for the past eight months. All the staff worked on some rotation basis. Carlo had gathered data into spreadsheets at an alarming rate, letting the spreadsheet program spit out pivot tables and graphs. Simone was unfamiliar with this side of the business, but the novelty of it wore off quickly.
The afternoon heat combined with her sleepless nights had made her drowsy. So far, they’d managed to gather data for only a quarter of the pilots. Carlo had interrogated her on every pilot working for Carlevaro Air. He would pick up on the strangest things and drill deeper with more questions, picking her brain. With Sarah on her mind, she had to constantly check her words and it had been exhausting. She could tell him a hundred things about each pilot who flew for Carlevaro, but most of the information was irrelevant to their investigation.
When he peered up from his computer screen Carlo met her gaze. He searched her face before scrubbing his own with his hands. “Let’s take a break. Have some coffee.”
“I need to check up on my team, they’re busy in the field so I’ll radio them from the office.” Noel got up, took his laptop and walked off.
Simone stifled a yawn and walked to the deck, stretching. She cocked her ear. A low hum droned from the east.
Carlo came to stand next to her.
“Our Dar flight is approaching,” she said, pointing to the aircraft that shimmered on the horizon.
They followed the plane as it flew closer and turned over the river toward the short airstrip two kilometers away.
Carlo cleared his throat. “I got an email from our reservations department. Tomorrow morning, we fly to the Crater. I was hoping to go to Ruaha first, but there’s no accommodation available. Noel and the rangers are staying behind here to carry on their investigation, so they have sufficient space for us in the Crater.”
Inside her the threads of hope that kept her going stretched to snapping point. “That’s a long flight. Are you going to all three lodges in the Serengeti and Crater before we fly back?” she asked.
“We’ve got one night at the Ngorongoro Crater, then two nights in Seronera, but nothing at the Grumeti River; it’s fully booked.” He sighed. “After that I hope for Ruaha. Solving the poaching problem is more important than anything else. I can skip these site inspections, but we need to go for Angelo’s and Dino’s sake.”
Simone counted. It would be five consecutive nights that she’d be away from Sarah. Her darling girl would feel abandoned. It was the last thing she wanted Sarah to feel, because that hurt never went away.
She had to do something, say something. She needed to get home and spend some time with Sarah. “I’ll need to refuel after the flight to Seronera. We won’t make it to Ruaha and back to Dar es Salaam.”
Carlo glanced at her. “I know. We’ll make a plan.”
“If we had taken a smaller aircraft I could’ve gone alone.” The bite in her voice was tangible.
He didn’t respond. Did he relish the power he had over her? She couldn’t go anywhere without him co-piloting at her side.
“Can’t we refuel at Arusha? Even Mwanza?” He rubbed at his chin. “Flying to Dar to refuel is a waste of time. Time I don’t have.”
She swore silently. Time. It was all about time and money. Clinging to the last straw she said, “I can ask, but you know how it goes in this place. They might not have enough fuel for a last-minute charter. I would rather fly to Dar es Salaam.”
“Has fuel supply become so unreliable? I hadn’t realized.” He frowned. “If Peppe let that side of things slip…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Please see if we can save ourselves the trip to Dar es Salaam.”
She bit her tongue, the pain distracting her from the sting behind her eyes. Of course Peppe hadn’t let anything slip. She had to keep her mouth shut; she had to keep her poise, for Sarah’s sake. She nodded, turning away as the aircraft landed and disappeared.
“We’d best pack up here,” Carlo said, right behind her.
She took a deep breath, telling herself that it would all be over in a couple of weeks. In silence they packed up his things, Carlo shoving his laptop into its bag, notes and printouts following.
She sensed his frustration; there was not enough time in the day. She’d spent more time with him than she’d bargained on and she desperately needed to get away from him. “I’m waiting for a delivery that comes with that plane. I’d best see if it’s arrived.”
She followed his gaze as he spotted Natalia, who was lounging next to the pool in a swimsuit, sitting up as a waiter served her a cocktail. “Going to see if those boys packed your bikini, are you?”
He was teasing her, and her stomach turned. How much of the conversation between her, Ross and Michael had he heard the first day?
“We might as well make the most of it.” He summoned a waiter. “Join us once you’ve unpacked?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed. What was he thinking? That nobody would notice, that nobody would talk? She longed to dive into the azure waters, but staff swimming in the guest pool was a big no-no. Half the staff already thought she’d been sleeping with Peppe; the tongues would be wagging if she misplaced a foot and tumbled into the guest pool with Carlo. Even worse, as much as she wanted to cool off, getting into a pool with Carlo would be like stripping down naked and rewinding the clock.
“Sorry,” he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. “It’s unreasonable of me to invite you to…overstep the boundaries.”
His apology was sincere, and somehow it diluted her wrath. She swore under her breath as she stomped away. Gabi was so not going to like her progress report.
She walked to the entrance of the lodge, listening for the droning of the Land Rovers. James caught up with her, sweat pearling on his forehead. He wiped it off with a handkerchief, ready to meet the new guests. “We got so engrossed that I forgot the time.”
She smiled. “Can’t say that for myself. Did you manage to find anything with the auditors?”
“Not on the poaching, but the curio shop suffered some theft these past months.”
“And who’s the guilty party?”
“Someone I fired some weeks ago,” James said as he indicated that the waiter with the welcome cocktails and cool hand towels must stand closer. “At least I won’t have to fire him again.” He stopped short, a frown furrowing his brow. “That makes me think.”
“What?”
He looked at her. “I’ve had so much going on…but it makes no sense. I’m not sure if Liz told you about the bushbaby?”
A shudder rushed down her spine. “She did.”
“That delivery was made that same morning, before I fired the curio shop assistant.” He cursed. “I thought there was some connection, but time-wise there could be no link between the two.” He shook his head, looking away with pursed lips at the two vehicles that arrived.
Simone stepped behind the trunk of the big acacia tree that spread a wide shadow over the entry to the camp, unable to make any sense of James’s ramblings. James met each guest with enthusiasm and made sure the porters knew which bags belonged to which tent. Simone knew the spiel he’d give them about the lodge not being fenced. Guests should never walk around unaccompanied by a guard after sunset as they might bump into a hippo or worse.
At last a lone cabin bag remained baking in the sun, with a scribbled note attached to its handle, her name printed in capitals on it.
I went to your digs to pick up your stuff. Michael could not go. Your nanny and kid were not home, so I had to phone Tawanda to come open up. Took me an hour to get this for you. The suitcase was not even closed, so I was not sure if everything you needed was packed. I added a few things.
Cute bikini. :-) Ross.
A slow chill spread over her skin. She had to read the message twice. How was it that Ruth hadn’t been at home? She’d arranged with Ruth to have her suitcase ready, so Michael could pick it up. The tone of the first part of the message said it all; Ross had been irritated about fetching her things and he would hold it against her.
It was the last two sentences with the little smiley face that freaked her out.
Ross knew she had a bikini. It roamed somewhere in her closet, but Ruth would never pack her a swimsuit for a business trip. Her hands stilled, but the little piece of paper quivered.
The notion of Ross stalking around her apartment and digging through her things made her stomach jolt in revolt. Never mind that it bordered on invasion of privacy, it grossed her out.
Tawanda’s presence hardly helped. The administration assistant, who was also the custodian of spare keys to the buildings owned by Carlevaro East Africa, was a complete walk-over. Ross would eat Tawanda for breakfast. He’d probably gone through every last drawer in her closet. She shuddered as if a voyeur was watching her, his creepy gaze traveling over her skin.
She grabbed the bag’s handle and tugged the suitcase along. When she got to her tent she zipped the bag open to find three uniforms folded up in military precision. A pair of beaded sandals was in the shoe space with some extra work socks. Two sets of shorts and T-shirts. Underneath it was her white silk pajama set, which consisted of a pair of shorts with a thinly strapped top. When she reached the bottom, she found her bikini and underwear, meticulously folded.
Ruth would never have packed her such underwear. Her everyday underwear was practical, skin-toned and invisible under her uniform. Ross’s hands on these delicate, lacy things… Yuck. Some of the lingerie still had tags on it. The embroidered sheer fabric burned her fingers. This was Ross’s idea of a joke. Did he really think she’d wear this to work? She swallowed as she recalled his last words. Let your other assets do the job.
Been there, done that. Got the baby.
She sniggered at her own joke. If only Ross knew. God, what would she give to see his face!
Swearing, she hung a Carlevaro shirt on a hanger to let out the few creases.
She glared at the contents of her suitcase. The lingerie was gorgeous and had been stupidly expensive. She’d bought it on holiday a year ago when Gabi had urged her to start dating again. She hadn’t tried the dating scene; Sarah had been the most convenient excuse to avoid going out, and nobody had been there to coerce her or to arrange blind dates.
But it had been more than that, and as the physical proof of her dating failure stared at her from the suitcase, the real reason was lounging next to the pool. She’d never gotten over Carlo.
Her fingers traced the pattern of a sheer bra’s embroidered detail, the sensation on her sensitive fingertips pulsing desire from her skin to deep between her thighs. His touch had been like this on her body, soft, gentle, slow, titillating until he’d had her at the point of sweet release, just to draw her back from the edge. Again and again, until she’d broken into an orgasm so intense that it had left her wet and trembling.
“Simone?”
She jumped and closed the suitcase in mortification. Inhaling sharply, she realized she’d been holding her breath. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, intensely conscious of feet scraping on the gravel outside. She brushed a few rogue curls from her face, composing herself. When she stepped out of the tent Angelo stood a couple of meters from her, looking like a naughty schoolboy sneaking around where he shouldn’t.
“I tracked you down.” He smiled at her, and his eyes shone as if the world was made of fairy lights that reflected on him. To call him beautiful would be an insult. Every detail of his face and body had such perfect proportion, and such noble bearing, that he could be the closest living relation to God’s Adam on earth at that moment.
“Can I help you, Mr. Carlevaro?” Her subconscious already nagged her that this was a bad idea.
“Please, call me Angelo.” His gaze flashed a warning, and she sensed she’d pushed her new boss too far. The day had been exhausting, and as she sighed the fight went out of her.
“Okay, Angelo, what’s up?” She stared him square in the eye, unfazed.
He grinned right back. “You’re flushed. Are you all right?”
She’d never been worse. “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.”
He still scrutinized her. “We’re going out for the afternoon game drive. Come with?”
She shouldn’t, but having a sauna in her tent in the afternoon heat, thinking of Carlo and reminiscing was a bad idea. Sitting in the kitchen with Liz, talking babies, didn’t appeal. Liz would poke and prod at her until every last secret was out.
Even worse, Carlo could come search her out and put her through another one of his interrogations like the previous night. Her stomach twisted. Right now, she would do anything to avoid Carlo. If she wasn’t here he couldn’t talk to her.
She dropped her gaze, trying to look uninterested. “Who’s going?” If Carlo wasn’t going then she could relax and enjoy the game drive and be sure not to see him for at least four hours. Then it would be bedtime and a whole twelve hours would have passed without her seeing him. With Angelo she’d be able to control the conversation. He might be hot as hell, but he didn’t embody every single sexual memory like Carlo.
“Natalia and I.”
“A drive like this morning?” She couldn’t stomach that again.
“Nope, the tourist version.” He searched her face. “Noel has gone bushwhacking with some of the rangers. Carlo and Dino are staying to do some work while the guests are out.”
She digested the information. Shouldn’t you be doing the same? She bit back the retort and looked away.
As if he read her mind he added, “They’re working on Southeast Asia stuff. Carlo’s baby.”
A ripple went up her back and spread like cold fingers over her scalp. Nothing in his expression gave her the idea that he was toying with her, testing her.
She gave an elaborate sigh. “Twisting my arm, are you?” she said, before smiling at him. “Give me a minute.”
She went to the bathroom at the back of the tent and stared at the mirror.
God, she was in so much trouble.
She rinsed her face, brushed her hair into a fresh ponytail, and grabbed her fleece. She met Angelo outside and together they set off toward the entrance where the Land Rovers waited.
As they walked she tried to recall if Peppe had ever seen Sarah. He’d known about her child, but hadn’t made enquiries beyond approving her accommodation outside of the pilots’ digs. There had been no reason for Peppe to believe Sarah was Carlo’s child. She glanced at Angelo. He had no reason to come find her in the staff camp. She wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of weeks down the line Angelo knocked on her apartment’s door. That would be dangerous, because if Angelo ever saw Sarah, he’d almost certainly recognize his brother’s eyes in that little pixie face.
For the first time since Carlo’s arrival, resigning and leaving Dar es Salaam seemed unavoidable. She’d already had one Carlevaro mess up her life; she didn’t need the complimentary services of his brother to boot. It would be polite to resign with the sixty days’ notice requested by her contract, but she’d be willing to run. It would be the only option, really. Mentally preparing herself for a quick exit, she sat back as the Land Rover drove off.