Diamond Legacy

by Monica McCabe

  “God, you are so beautiful,” he whispered against her skin. “A slice of heaven.”

  His lips left a trail of fire wherever they touched. She welcomed the scalding heat, wanting this moment to brand her, to live indelibly in her memory when it came time to go home.

  Her heart cried out in denial, refusing to face the reality just yet. It would come soon enough. She pushed all thought away and focused instead on the incredible pleasure he offered, the path of his kisses as he moved steadily lower, across the flat plane of her stomach and inching toward her center. He teased her mercilessly with his fingers, sliding a hand down her leg and under her knee, gently lifting, slowly pushing her over the edge of erotic need.

  When his mouth finally took possession of her, she nearly screamed in relief. A delicious tension began to coil within her as his fingers slid inside, building a tempo of pulse-pounding lust that spiraled her ever higher, driven by the magic of his tongue. The tension escalated, and she tightened around his fingers. She moaned deep and arched against his mouth, crying out as sweet release crashed over her in waves.

  Still, he gave her no quarter and continued his exploration, taking full advantage of her languid state to learn every curve and valley. But she grew restless. He tried to keep her at his mercy, but she refused. She needed to know every inch of him, memorize every wonderful line and plane of muscle.

  She demanded equal time and massaged his skin, took his lead and tasted every spot that caught her fancy. From the corded muscles in his neck and across the span of his broad shoulders she nibbled, as her fingers caressed the silky hair covering his sculpted chest.

  She breathed deep his scent and closed her eyes on a sigh. He even smelled wonderful. So warm, earthy, and elemental…so incredibly male. “You are so primal…so wild.” She struggled to find the words to tell him that he was every fantasy she ever had and more.

  “You can’t resist me,” he said with smug assurance. “I have zing.”

  She laughed low, a deliberate sultry sound designed to tease. “You’re right. I can’t resist touching you here.” Her hand slid down his hard abdomen, her fingers tracing the tantalizing line of hair that led downward.

  His breath caught, and his eyes went from teasing to steamy.

  “I can’t resist kissing you here.” Her lips followed the line of her fingers, nipping at muscles grown taut in anticipation.

  When he moaned deep in his throat, she grew bolder still and straddled his hips with provocative invitation. She teased him, only to retreat and continue her exploration. She grasped his erection with both hands and his hips lifted into her touch.

  “Miranda.” Her name was spoken like a plea.

  He didn’t wait for her response. With a fierce growl he grabbed her by the shoulders and rolled her onto her back, following her down and fitting himself intimately against her. He pushed against her center and demanded welcome. She was more than ready and opened for him.

  He plunged inside, and the pressure of him filling her was sweet beyond belief. She wanted to stay this way forever, a part of him, connected and one.

  As he moved above her, she squeezed her muscles around his length, smiling in satisfaction when he shuddered and his face turned stark with building passion.

  He moved faster, their bodies soon covered with a fine sheen of moisture. She focused on his every pleasure to burn the memory into her mind, but she could stand it no longer. She closed her eyes and gave in to the ecstasy of the moment, gave in to his mastery.

  She rose with him on every stroke, every panting breath, and when he cried out with fulfillment she met him there, riding the waves of orgasm until every shiver stilled.

  He collapsed, his weight pinning her down, and she welcomed it. Her last coherent thought before drifting off to sleep was how much she loved him.

  To hell with the price she’d pay in the end.

  Chapter 28

  Miranda had no right to be furious. None whatsoever. So what if she’d woken up this morning riding a sky-high wave of anticipation, only to have it instantly evaporate when she’d rolled over and found Matt gone.

  The fact that he drove her beyond rational thought with his lovemaking was her own problem. He wasn’t obligated to spend the night, nor should she be angry that he slipped away like a thief of hearts while she slept. She had no business expecting more. Just as he had no right to be jealous over the sudden appearance of a former boyfriend.

  She dipped the mop into the rolling bucket of disinfectant and squeezed it out tight before slopping it onto the clinic floor for another pass in front of the cages. She put her weight into the scrubbing and scolded herself for being in such a foul mood. It only worsened the situation.

  “You scrub that spot any longer, and you’ll hit concrete sub-floor in another minute.” Jason stood leaning against the doorway, an inquisitive look on his face. “Something bothering you?”

  Miranda stopped and stared at the mop like it suddenly had become the enemy. Then, with a soft snort of disgust, she dunked it into the bucket and rolled the whole contraption to the floor drain.

  “Well?” Jason persisted.

  “It’s nothing,” she replied. “Just a little preoccupied.”

  “I guess I would be too if I’d been playing hot tonsil hockey in the gardens last night.”

  Miranda choked on a gasp and began coughing.

  Jason walked over and took the mop bucket from her, then dumped the contents into the drain basin. “Don’t worry, I was alone. Hank’s room was in the lodge.”

  She recovered enough to turn red-faced with embarrassment. She could feel her cheeks burn. “I…ah…that is…”

  “Hey, don’t worry. I’m right proud of you for it.” He rinsed the basin clean of the sudsy mop water. “About time you let your hair down, so to speak. Matt’s a great guy. I like him. So do you, apparently.”

  “Maybe.” She frowned and went to the sink to wash her hands. “He’s certainly more maddening than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “I understand the difficulty. I’m developing an excellent theory on that.”

  “Really? I fail to see what’s so great about it.”

  “It means, Oh Perturbed One, that you’re in deep.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that at all. True, she had admitted it to herself last night, but that didn’t mean she wanted anyone else to know about it.

  “Just to clarify,” she added, “he’s also bossy, stubborn, and too focused on work by far.”

  Jason stood there with a knowing grin. “Two peas in a pod.”

  She felt a frown coming on. “His hair always looks windblown, his uniform doesn’t fit, and Diana, the wanton librarian, is always throwing herself at him.”

  “Simply appalling. All of it.”

  She glared at Jason.

  He just laughed and wheeled the bucket over to the storage closet to store it away. And he had the nerve to whistle while doing so.

  Turning on her heel, she headed around the wall to the clinic. Two other veterinarians were on staff and had operations covered. They were chatting and busily sorting through medicines and manifests.

  Miranda sat down at a vacant computer to view the schedule board. After punching a few buttons, she scanned the digital chart to see what other chores Katanga needed done.

  The list was unusually light today. In fact, the whole day felt odd, a strange blend of quiet and anticipation. This morning at the lodge, the dining room overflowed with guests talking about the upcoming Diamond Council. Even now, the veterinarians were debating the event’s financial benefit for the city versus the headaches of snarled traffic it caused.

  Shrugging it off, she ran a finger down the monitor and debated what to tackle next. Half way through the list, the clinic doors swung open and Graham stepped inside. She tensed, not at all happy to see him.

  Keeping a covert eye his direction, she watched him speak briefly to the other veterinarians. When he turned
and headed her way, she took a deep, silent breath, preparing for the worst.

  “You’re certainly a dedicated worker, Doctor Parrish.” Graham had stepped up beside her with a smile, but his compliment felt more like an opening line for deeper interrogation.

  She gave him an acknowledging nod. “A trait I inherited from my father. He claims manual labor is good for the soul.”

  “As long as it’s balanced with recreation, which I’ve seen you do little of since arriving. How much of Gaborone have you explored?”

  “I’ve been out a few times.” She didn’t like the way he looked at her hair. Something was cooking behind those hard eyes of his. “I hope to see more before I leave.”

  “You will get the chance. Katanga built in sightseeing time before you head home.”

  “Jason and I appreciate that.” Miranda wondered why this conversation was taking place. Never before had Graham dropped by to chat. She glanced back at the schedule board. “Meanwhile it looks like the Oasis Pool wants someone to check on an orphaned hippo calf.”

  “Of course, duty calls.” He started to walk away, but turned back. “Tell me, do you always wear your hair in that style of ponytail?”

  Her hands fluttered over the keyboard. To hide their sudden shaking, she lifted them to her head and tightened her hair band, doing her best to appear perplexed. “Usually. It’s easier to pull through a ball cap when it’s high on the head like this. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” He shrugged. “It’s just I saw a similar style recently in a photo.”

  Her stomach knotted. “It’s a common style.”

  He looked at her speculatively. “I suppose.”

  She gave him a slight smile, resisting the urge to look away from his stare.

  “Well, then,” he said with a snap back to business. “I’ve called a staff meeting in the largest classroom, but there’s no need for you or Jason to attend. There is plenty more to be done. Have a good afternoon, Doctor Parrish.”

  She watched him leave the clinic and knew with a sinking feeling he was onto her. They must have captured an image on camera at Glory Hill. Probably not enough to nail her outright, but the shadow of suspicion had been cast.

  “What was that all about?” Jason asked as he joined her at the computer.

  “Just Graham being his usual friendly self,” she replied.

  “I don’t think so.” Jason had a worried frown on his brow. “Something’s up.”

  “It’s nothing.” She tried to sound light. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

  “I think you should find Matt.”

  “Why?”

  “He needs to know Graham is acting strangely.”

  “What on earth for?” She snuck a quick glance over to the two vets, but they were busy and paid them no attention.

  Jason snorted. “I believe his exact words were, ‘She finds trouble and I want to know if anything weird happens.’”

  “What? Me? If only you knew the trouble he was stirring right this minute!”

  “I’ve a pretty good idea.” Jason leaned in close and spoke quietly. “Diamond smuggling.”

  Miranda stared at him in surprise.

  “He told me before he left.” Jason leaned back against the computer desk. “He’s worried about your safety.”

  “He’s worried about his investigation.”

  “You’re wrong. I think he truly cares about you.”

  That gave her pause but only for a second. Slipping out on someone in the middle of the night didn’t confirm Jason’s theory. Just the opposite. “I think your matchmaking skill is off base this time.”

  “Tell that to those poor impressionable young trees you shocked last night.”

  She frowned. What was she supposed to say to that? It was true. “I don’t need to go running to Matt just because Graham said hello.”

  “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

  “Maybe.” She turned her attention back to the computer screen. “If I see Matt, I’ll mention it to him. Meanwhile, I’m headed for the Oasis Pool.”

  She typed her name beside the entry and looked up at Jason. “What about you?”

  “Put me down for it.” Jason shrugged out of his lab coat. “I’m going for a soda first. Want one?”

  Miranda shook her head. “No, thanks.” She typed out his name and logged off the scheduler program. “See you at the pool.”

  * * * *

  “Are you headed for the stables?”

  Miranda was about to step outside the back door but turned when Letta called out from down the hall. Her friend carried a load of boxes, notebooks, and a full string of new leather reins hanging from her arm.

  “I’m down for the Oasis Pool,” Miranda answered. “Why?”

  “I must fill in at the clinic during a staff meeting and wondered if you’d carry these to the stable.” Letta indicated the reins on her arm. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll take them out later.”

  “Nonsense, hand them over.”

  Letta juggled her load to extend her arm, and Miranda relieved her of the reins. After making plans to meet for lunch, she headed out the door.

  The sun was rising fast in what was shaping up to be another cloudless autumn day. Miranda skirted the back parking lot and picked up the trail to the stable, enjoying the warmth. Her time in Africa was fast slipping away, and a sense of melancholy intruded. She felt needed here, the work beneficial to so many, both two-legged and four.

  Incredible progress had been made with the establishment of International Peace Parks, and game reserve borders were expanding and blending. Links were established and nourished as multiple countries discovered the benefits of tourism and the monetary gain that came from protecting animals and their natural habitats.

  More surprising came the incredible feeling of being here, seeing progress first hand and participating in an organization that opened doors to conservation. She never imagined it would be so fulfilling.

  She never imagined the thought of leaving would be so hard.

  The massive stable loomed before her, and Miranda headed for the main doors, easing one open just wide enough to fit through. Laid out in the shape of a giant cross, she headed toward the tack room in the left wing. Her rubber-soled shoes made little sound on the concrete floor as she padded down the center aisle and rounded left.

  Her breath caught. She wasn’t alone. Neil and another man stood heavy in conversation two stalls down.

  They both froze upon seeing her, but she pretended not to notice and kept moving the final few steps to the tack room door. With an innocent smile in their direction, she opened the portal and stepped inside. The door slowly closed, and her heart pounded in alarm.

  She’d stumbled into something important. Would they allow her to leave? Surely Neil recognized her from that night at Half Jacks. Chances were she could bluff her way past him, but the other guy was a different story. He didn’t look like the type to allow loose ends to walk away.

  This was bad. Real bad and probably wouldn’t end well. What she wouldn’t give for a window right now.

  She needed a weapon. As she hung the reins on an empty peg, she quickly scanned the room’s inventory. Packed full of equipment and supplies, there were saddles, ropes, buckets, and big feed carts, various bits of hardware, pitchforks, and garden hose.

  Pitchforks?

  What kind of message would that send if she came out armed with a pitchfork? Did it really matter?

  She grabbed the sturdiest and did a few practice jabs. It might hold them off long enough for her to make a run for it. She lifted a couple other pieces, too, a horsehair brush and body blanket, just to give the illusion of working in one of the stalls.

  Taking a deep breath to bolster her courage, she calmly walked out the door.

  They were waiting.

  “Good morning, Miss Parrish.” The scary one stood the closest, and his cold eyes mocked her choice of weap
ons.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, surprising herself by how calm she sounded. “Do I know you?”

  “No, but you know my friend.”

  Neil stepped over, and his smile was far from friendly. They didn’t plan on letting her leave. Still, she had to try. “Half Jacks, right?” She pretended uncertainty, and when he nodded she continued, “Nice to see you again. But if you will excuse me gentlemen, I’ve a lot of work to do.” She hefted her tools with a half smile and turned to leave.

  The evil one grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, Miss Parrish.”

  Banking on the element of surprise, Miranda spun back with the horsehair brush aimed straight for his head. He countered, and the blow landed on his shoulder instead. He had an instant comeback. With a powerful slam that left her hand and wrist numb, he sent the brush flying.

  That was when real fear began to set in.

  Yanking the blanket off her shoulder, she threw it at him, but he easily knocked it aside.

  The move gave her precious seconds to arm herself with the pitchfork, though, and she began her retreat.

  He only looked amused and began advancing.

  “Back off, slime ball!” She borrowed the phrase from Matt and jabbed the pitchfork toward him as she walked backward toward the crossroad.

  His soft laugh left her chilled. “The name’s Bessault.” He signaled Neil, who began to circle around in an attempt to cut her off.

  “Miranda?” Hank’s voice sounded behind her.

  Thank God! Relief flooded through her. Help had arrived.

  She risked a glance back and saw him standing at the corner, an uncertain look on his face. Roz trailed right behind him, jabbering away in that scolding tone of hers.

  The two men kept advancing, and Miranda took a few more steps backward, stabbing with her weapon to keep them from getting too close.

  “What’s going on here?” Hank asked.

  “It’s an ambush,” Miranda yelled.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “This place is getting too crowded,” Bessault said. “Take care of him, Neil. I’ll handle Miss Parrish.”