Princess of Zamibia

by Delaney Diamond

  Hours later, they returned to the guesthouse to find Aofa snoozing in a hammock on the beach. Noel napped on top of her.

  Dahlia tapped Aofa’s shoulder and the woman jerked awake.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Dahlia kept her voice low so as not to wake up Noel. “I wanted you to know we were back from snorkeling.”

  Aofa stifled a yawn. “How was it?”

  “Exhilarating. Unbelievable. Better than I imagined.” Beside her, Kofi chuckled. “Well, it’s true. I can’t believe I’ve never gone snorkeling with whale sharks and dolphins before.”

  Kofi squeezed her shoulder. “And to think, you didn’t want to go.”

  “I was wrong.” She couldn’t stop smiling. They were acting like...a couple.

  “I’m so happy for you.” Aofa swung her legs onto the sand, and Dahlia held the hammock steady so she could get out, impressed the entire time that the nanny kept Noel safely cradled in her arms.

  “How long has he been asleep?” Dahlia asked.

  “I’m not sure, since I fell asleep myself,” Aofa said sheepishly. “What time is it?”

  “A little after two o’clock,” Kofi answered.

  “When I last checked, it was a little after twelve o’clock, so not very long. No more than a couple of hours.”

  Dahlia rubbed her knuckle across her son’s cheek. “Tomorrow I’m giving him my undivided attention. We’re going to play in the ocean.”

  “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Aofa asked.

  “Eat and then do something with my hair.” Dahlia smoothed a hand over the damp twists. “We’re going out tonight. Apparently, there’s a fairly lively nightlife in town, and the owners of the guesthouse suggested we visit a couple of the beach bars, get a few beers, and dance.”

  “I think that’s a lovely idea. May I say, Your Highnesses, you both look very happy and relaxed.”

  Kofi took her hand, his eyes filled with affection. “That’s because we are.”

  “Good. I’m happy to hear that. And don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Noel.”

  Dahlia clasped Aofa’s free hand in her own. “I haven’t said this before, but I appreciate all your help with him. You’ve made the transition much easier for me, and he adores you.”

  “The honor is mine.” Aofa bowed briefly.

  A few hours later, Dahlia sat at the foot of the bed slipping on sandals, and Kofi appeared in the doorway. She’d already dismissed Mariama, so he and she were alone in the room. He didn’t say a word.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” Dahlia asked.

  “Maybe.”

  She slipped on the second shoe and then walked over to him. “What do you think?” She placed both hands on her hips.

  “Beautiful, as always.” He weaved his fingertips through the riot of loose curls that trailed down her back. “Do you still have regrets about coming to Africa?”

  “None.” She answered without thought, without hesitation. That’s what love did. It obliterated doubt. She always wanted to be near Kofi. Touching him. Hearing his voice. It was crazy, and dangerous, and painful—and the best feeling in the world, all at once.

  “No regrets?” he asked again.

  “None.” What a difference from only a few weeks ago, when she’d regretted getting on the plane and wished she’d put up a stronger fight to resist coming to the continent.

  Kofi kissed her, softly, his mouth little more than a whisper against hers. She indulged in the taste of him, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her breasts against his hard chest.

  He smiled against her lips, and a seductive, flirty quality entered his eyes and heated her skin. “I promised you dancing. Though I would much rather do something else, I’m going to keep my promise. Let’s go.”

  The driver took them into town, and the beach bar was jumping when they arrived. Music poured from mounted speakers as a surprising number of people, many of them in their early twenties, danced in the sand.

  The owners of the guesthouse had said a lot of backpackers came to Tofo and stayed at some of the less expensive accommodations. Most of the people were Africans, Europeans, and Americans. Abdalla and Yasir were already stationed near the bar, dressed inconspicuously in T-shirts and jeans, each holding a beer she knew they’d never drink because they were on duty.

  She and Kofi squeezed between the people at the bar, ordered two local beers, and drank them while watching the dancers get down on the sand.

  “Care to join them?” Kofi asked.

  “Do you have moves like that?” Dahlia asked teasingly.

  “Considering you’ve seen a lot of my moves, I can’t believe you asked that question.”

  He set their beers on the bar and took her by the hand, leading her into the middle of the group. Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and swayed their bodies together in a rhythmic movement where they ground their hips against each other.

  Dahlia tilted her lips up to his ear, and he bent his head. “This is less like dancing and more like making love,” she said.

  “Making love is a type of dance.”

  She pressed her face into his neck and inhaled him, his fragrance, and the scent of his skin. A scent she would never get tired of.

  Hooking her arm around his neck she whispered, “I never want to leave here.”

  He kissed her temple and then rested his forehead against hers.

  Her heart filled with emotion, and she wanted to be reckless tonight. Live in the moment. To tell him how much she loved him, how much she had never stopped loving him, though she tried her damndest. How much she would love him, even after the end of eternity.

  In the middle of the music and the barely audible sound of the ocean nearby, Kofi locked eyes with her. His hips rubbed against hers, the sexy rhythm of the music making them move to the beat. “I missed you.” His kissed her cheek, the underside of her jaw, and her neck. “I missed you every day of the three years we were apart.”

  “You did?” She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly over the sounds of music and people talking.

  “I never stopped thinking about you.” He let out a heavy breath, and his eyes darkened with regret. “I should have never left you in America.”

  Dahlia stroked his jaw. She’d longed to hear words like this come from his mouth, and now that she did, she was speechless knowing he’d experienced some of the same heartache that had tormented her day after day.

  “I was a fool. A dumbass.”

  She laughed. Finding humor in their argument showed how far they’d come.

  Kofi stopped moving, and his gaze intensified. “I love you, Dahlia. I should have told you a long time ago, but I couldn’t admit it even to myself.”

  Closing her eyes, she willed herself to be brave enough to whisper the words that trembled on her lips. “Kofi...” She clasped her hands at the back of his neck. Their faces were close together, as if no one else was around. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life to hear you say that. I love you, too. My heart broke when you left. I died that day.”

  Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “I died, too. God, I wish I’d never left you.”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry about Noel. I wish...”

  “Shh.”

  She shook her head to cut off the interruption. She had to tell him. She needed him to know. “I didn’t keep him a secret out of spite. I did try to reach you. I swear, I did. You were on your honeymoon, and when I found out you were married, I...I didn’t think you’d care. You have to believe me.”

  His eyes locked onto hers as if trying to see into the innermost part of her being. “I believe you.” He kissed her softly. “And I don’t believe you were an accomplice in embezzling the funds from our accounts, either. I should have trusted you from the beginning when you told me you had nothing to do with the theft. I’m sorry, olufeh mi.”

  Finally! Dahlia grinned as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. His beard tickled her
skin. She turned her lips to his cheek and squeezed him tight as his hands slid down and grabbed her ass. They stayed right there, and she didn’t care who saw. They held on to each other and started slow dancing even though the music had a rapid tempo.

  Her heart filled to the brim with her love for him, and she wanted to show him how much, skin to skin. She didn’t care about dancing anymore. She wanted to be alone with him. “Kofi, let’s—”

  “Your Highness.”

  Reluctantly, they pulled apart. Abdalla stood behind Kofi. From the grave expression on his face, she knew something was wrong.

  “What is it?” Kofi asked. His body went very still, and the husky timbre of his voice was replaced with a firm, authoritative tone.

  “We received a call from the palace. There’s been an accident.”

  22

  Whenever members of the royal family traveled, assistants packed what amounted to a small wardrobe, which included mourning attire. That way, should a death occur while they were abroad, they would be appropriately attired when they descended from the plane.

  Such was the case when Kofi, Dahlia, and Noel arrived. They flew all night and slept on the plane. When they disembarked, they all wore long black robes. Dahlia wore a black scarf over her head, edged with gold because of her status as a princess. Kofi wore a black and gold fila.

  They walked onto the tarmac with solemn faces. Noel, walking beside his mother, took cues from his parents and didn’t wave and grin like the last time.

  “Your Highness, do you know what caused the collapse?” a reporter asked from behind the barricade.

  One of the mines had collapsed, trapping the miners. Officials were unsure of the death toll, but rescue efforts through the night resulted in several dead being pulled from the rubble.

  Kofi paused to briefly address the assembled journalists. “As soon as we know the cause, we’ll release a statement. Until then, our thoughts and prayers are with the men and women who are trapped, their families, and the families of the deceased.”

  He placed a hand low on Dahlia’s spine, and the three walked to the waiting limousine while the reporters yelled more questions at their retreating backs.

  In taking ownership of the mining companies, the government also had to take ownership of the tragedy. Safety was always a concern in the mining industry, but accidents did happen. For the first time, an accident resulted in fatalities on Zamibian soil.

  No one said a word on the drive to The Grand Palace. Once inside, Kofi stopped in the marble foyer. “I’m going to my office to get more information about what’s going on.”

  “Should I come with you?” Dahlia asked, concern in her eyes.

  Kofi shook his head. “Go. I’ll be up soon.”

  She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something else, and he also felt as if words remained on the tip of his tongue—words he didn’t get to share because of the interruption from Abdalla less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “I’ll see you later, then.” Dahlia led Noel away by the hand toward the elevator, but the little boy looked back.

  Kofi smiled to reassure him. Children were such sensitive creatures, able to pick up on moods from the adults around them. He didn’t want the stress of his own thoughts to rub off on his son. Noel smiled back and picked up his steps to keep up with his mother.

  Kofi strode toward his office. Inside, he removed the robe and cap to reveal a simple cotton shirt and pants underneath.

  Minutes later, his head of security, Oriyeh, arrived. Her light-colored skin was the result of a French father and a Zamibian mother. A few years past forty, she was an unassuming woman who wore her thick hair in an Afro puff at the back of her head. She went into military service after she finished school and was not only an incredible fighting machine, but very intelligent, as well. After completing her service, she enlisted again, and by the time she left the service had earned an engineering degree. She was a brilliant strategist, and he trusted her with his life. The king expressed no reservations when Kofi appointed her head of palace security.

  “Your Highness.” Clutching her fist to her chest, she gave him the bow of respect.

  “Come in, Oriyeh. What do you have for me?” From their brief phone call, he deduced there was more to the story than a simple mine collapse. He sat in the chair behind his desk.

  Oriyeh sat across from him. “It’s not good, Your Highness.”

  Kofi’s shoulders tensed as he braced for the news.

  “I’ve been in close communication with the local police and the rescue team, and after preliminary investigations, the collapse doesn’t appear to be an accident or breach of safety protocol. They believe it was purposefully done, using dynamite or a bomb of some kind.”

  A rush of heat swamped his body. “Bomb? Why the hell would anyone put a bomb in the mine? What did any of those men and women do to warrant such an attack?”

  “The motive is unclear.”

  Kofi laughed bitterly. “I believe I know the motive.”

  Oriyeh quirked a brow upward.

  Sitting back in the chair, Kofi said, “Before I left on my honeymoon, we turned down Titanium Oil’s offer to work with them. This might be a way for them to twist our arm and show we need outside help with the project.”

  Oriyeh frowned as she mulled the words. “Perhaps, but then how do you explain this?” She removed a sheet of paper encased in plastic from inside her jacket and gave it to him.

  Kofi turned the document over in his hand. You must pay for your sins. “What is this?”

  “King Babatunde found this note on the bench in his private garden when he went for his evening walk.”

  Kofi shot to his feet. “Are you telling me someone breached the security of the palace grounds?” Outrage was taut and vivid in his voice.

  Oriyeh flinched. She stood, too. “I don’t know how, but it seems—”

  “It seems? We have cameras all over this property.”

  “Yes, Your Highness. But the perpetrator took advantage of a blind spot to deliver the message.”

  “This is absolutely unacceptable!” Kofi thundered. Oriyeh flinched again and he took a deep breath. “What are you doing to prevent this type of breach from happening again?”

  “Another camera is being installed, I’ve placed more guards around the king, and we’ve altered his routine.”

  His father would hate the changes. A man of routine, he ate breakfast at the same time every day and took a walk to meditate in his garden at the same time each evening. But with his safety at stake, he’d have to adjust.

  “What else do you know?”

  “Nothing. Whoever they are, they’re very good.”

  Kofi paced to the window and back. “Could they be targeting anyone else in the monarchy?”

  “I have nothing to confirm it, but that is my belief.”

  Panic seized his throat when he thought about Noel and Dahlia. “Then we need to make sure my wife and child are protected at all costs. My uncle, his wives, his children. Everyone.”

  “Including you, Your Highness.”

  “I will be fine.”

  “Until we figure out who these people are, all of you should have additional protection and change your schedules.”

  “Fine. Leave me.”

  She picked up the threatening note and walked to the door.

  “Oriyeh.” She faced him. “Not a word of this to anyone.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  She quietly left the office.

  Kofi sat down and dialed his secretary. He told her to pull together the CVs and every bit of information she could on everyone in charge of safety at the mines. Despite Oriyeh’s intel, he wanted to eliminate the possibility of human error in the collapse. He also told his secretary to put together the names and tribal affiliations of the injured and dead. The government would pay for the three-day funerals, and he wanted the Finance Office to estimate the loss in wages to the affected families so compensation packages could be prepared.<
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  When he hung up, Kemal came in and stopped in the middle of the floor.

  “What?” Kofi asked irritably.

  He arched an eyebrow. “How was your honeymoon?”

  “Short.”

  Kemal came closer. “You won’t want to hear this, but I received a call from Alistair Davies. He wants to know if you’ll reconsider working with Titanium Oil.”

  A mirthless laugh left Kofi’s throat. “And why would I reconsider?” Kofi set his arms on the armrests of the chair and rested his ankle on his knee.

  “I suppose he thinks with the mine collapse, now is a good time to mention their expertise to make sure a similar situation doesn’t happen when we drill for oil.”

  Kofi tapped his fingers on the chair. “Did you keep an eye on them like I asked?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “No unusual behavior or suspicious activity was reported back to me on Ambassador Stephens or Mr. Davies.”

  Kofi studied the other man. “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, good news.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “The decision is yours.”

  “Yes, it is. Always.”

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  Kofi rubbed a hand across his bearded chin. “For now, we’re going to stick to the plan we already have in place. We’re going to work with Barrakesch on the offshore drilling.”

  “Alistair and the Ambassador won’t be pleased.”

  “You’re on a first name basis with Davies?” Kofi asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I...I’ve spoken to him a few times, and he insisted I call him by his first name.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve developed such a good rapport with him.” Kofi smiled tightly. “Please let him know I don’t give a damn if he’s pleased or not. I don’t work for his pleasure.”

  “I’ll pass on the message.” His face remained neutral, but his voice held an underlying note of...something. Tension, anger? Kofi couldn’t be sure.

  “By the way, Dahlia told me something I need to ask you about. She said when she found out she was pregnant, she called but didn’t reach me. She said she spoke to you. Do you remember that conversation?”