“You’re a good cameraman,” Janet complimented him. Her husband had been, too. Bob would have kept his camera rolling. He was doing just that in Central America when he went down. What his camera recorded during those last moments had made poignant footage on network news across the country.
“Christopher downed it with one shot!” Roger said. She knew what he was saying. Roger might have died in the stampede. And Tim. And Jill. And Dr. Nhari. And Janet. Even Christopher. They didn’t. An elephant did. Except for one soldier, everyone managed to get out of the way. One of the animals was dead, because Janet wasn’t as quick as most of the others. One bullet was all it had taken—far more efficient than poachers who peppered their victims with machine-gun fire. “His aim must be as steady as a rock,” Roger said appreciatively. “The elephant went down within feet of you,” Roger said. “The rest of the herd split around it, missing you and Christopher. Damned unbelievable!”
There was no denying it. It was recorded for posterity. Anyone could sit in front of a television screen and watch it happen again—her frantic run, the elephants behind her, Christopher among the rocks, aiming his rifle, the elephant’s death, its fall, the wedge it made to divert the stampeding herd around her.
If she had stood right where she was when the explosion went off and the elephants emerged from the trees, would they have missed her? Jill was saved by not moving. Granted, Jill was in a Land Rover, but that wasn’t adequate protection from a herd of stampeding elephants. If Janet hadn’t panicked, that elephant might be alive.
She tried to recapture the moment of the explosion. It was blurry. Strange, because everything had seemed clear at the time. She remembered analyzing possible escape routes and rejecting them one by one. She couldn’t go forward, left or right. She turned and ran. She didn’t consider the possibility of staying put.
“You should see the tusks on that baby,” Roger said. That didn’t make her feel better. “The poachers would give their eyeteeth to add those to their stockpile.”
“I’m grateful to Christopher,” she said. She was, too. At the same time, each elephant’s death narrowed the chances of the species surviving to see the turn of another century. “I’m tired, Roger,” she said. After a night and a day of sleep, she shouldn’t be tired, but she was. “I’ll rest now, if that’s all right.”
“You get all the rest you need, boss lady,” Roger said, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. His hand was cool. “We’ve everything under control.”
Far better control than Janet was managing. Her team was well oiled. Roger, Tim and Jill were pros. Roger had kept his camera rolling through it all. He had footage to prove Christopher had saved the hostess of Animal Kingdoms in the Wild. Janet hadn’t come all this way to make Christopher a hero—quite the contrary. But Christopher was being congratulated on all sides for a killing well done. Even Roger was full of praise.
Everything was topsy-turvy. Everything was wrong. She needed to think. Not now though; now she was tired. She would think tomorrow. There were answers, and she would find them.
She shut her eyes. Roger didn’t leave the room but took a chair by the bed. Janet was worried. She was in Africa to exorcise memories, but she wasn’t succeeding. She was here to help save elephants, and one was dead because of her. She had come to deny her love for Christopher but seeing him had only confirmed that her love was stronger than ever.
She dreamed she was in the middle of a clearing. She watched a brilliant explosion set fire to some nearby trees. The air was hot with the flash of the flames. She knew what to expect. She had been there before.
She contemplated escape routes. There was no going to the left or right. There was no running forward to meet the charge, although someone had once told her that was one sure way of stopping any attacking animal. An old-wives’ tale. She had two alternatives: stay where she was or turn and run. She would stay where she was. Jill had stayed put and survived.
Elephants charged from the trees, and suddenly Janet was turning and running. The elephants charged closer and closer. One in particular was on her trail. It was determined to run her down. It had a mad and evil glint in its bloody red eyes. It was bigger than the others, its tusks huge and bleached with age.
There was an outcrop of rocks up ahead. There was no chance of her reaching it. It didn’t matter. Christopher was there with his gun. He would save her.
Only he wasn’t there, and the elephant behind her came faster and faster, closer and closer. “Christopher!” She opened her eyes to the darkness of the room.
“I’m here, darling,” he said. Roger had kept his promise to wake him despite Janet’s urgings to the contrary.
“You saved me,” she said, lost between dreaming and consciousness.
“It’s the least I could do for the woman I love,” he said, kissing her warm cheek.
“I love you,” she said. A dream?
“I suspected that,” he said, smiling.
“No, you didn’t suspect a thing,” she contradicted him. She was Janet Kelley. She was thirteen and in love. He knew nothing, nothing at all.
“I certainly was hoping,” he amended. She slept peacefully through the rest of that night and into the next day.
CHAPTER NINE
HE WAS ASLEEP in the chair. He looked younger in sleep, as though he were eighteen again. But Janet wasn’t thirteen. She looked and felt older.
He stirred without waking. How handsome he was, his eyelashes thick against his tanned cheeks, his blond hair attractively tousled. His sensuous lips were parted and invited a kiss. His shirt was unbuttoned part way, revealing his muscled chest. His legs were spread wide for balance, their splay decidedly sexy. Janet blushed like a schoolgirl.
He raised his right hand to his square jaw line and casually massaged a colorless stubble of beard. His eyes fluttered and opened, his dilated pupils taking a few seconds to focus.
“Good morning,” she said, and he stretched sensuously. He was an exotic jungle cat reveling in the first warming rays of dawn. Several cramped bones cracked audibly as he worked them into proper alignment.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice was husky from sleep—or lack of it. “You’re looking none the worse for wear.”
“That’s more than I can, say for you,” she observed with a smile. It was a lie. He looked as good as ever, but she knew he couldn’t have had a good sleep where he was. “Why don’t you find yourself a bed?”
“Is that my long-awaited invitation to join you?” he asked with a wide grin. She was tempted.
“I was thinking of the bed in your room,” she said.
“Oh,” he pouted, his disappointment only partially faked. He placed his palms over his handsome face and rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. He had been in that chair since shortly after midnight.
“I appreciate the vigil,” she said, “but you and I have things to talk about, and we can’t do that until you’re rested. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
“One of those kinds of talk, huh?” he said, but he wasn’t arguing.
“In the meantime, the patient can take care of herself,” Janet assured him.
“Your teammates are out in the field,” he informed her. “Five more dead elephants were found yesterday.”
“Oh, no!” Her mind flashed a vision of the elephant she and he were responsible for killing.
“Sylo thought it best that your group get what shots they could,” Christopher said. “He’s hinting at tightening up security until the poaching problem is cleared up once and for all. That could mean an attempt to withdraw all civilians. You’ll admit the problem is getting out of hand.”
The thought of Craig issuing orders to vacate the area made Janet panicky. Granted, she wouldn’t stay much longer anyway. As soon as the first of the elephants was transferred to Wankie, she would wrap up shooting. She had never intended staying through the whole process. It would be weeks before the last elephant was delivered to its new home. But she didn’t want to be
kicked out early. Not now. Not after waiting all these years to find this chance with Christopher.
He said he loved her. The sheer wonder of it! He had saved her life. In the light of day she saw the difference between killing for ivory or for sport and killing to save a life. She wanted to sort out other conflicting emotions as easily.
“I think I’ll take a hot bath,” she said. That would help. Being so long in bed had made her sluggish.
“I could use a bath, too. You wouldn’t be up to sharing one, I suppose?” Christopher said, only half-teasingly.
“I won’t say I’m not tempted,” she said, giving him that much. The idea of taking a bath with him was exceedingly sexy. Her husband hadn’t been much for variety. Bob’s imagination had shown in his work, not in his lovemaking.
“However, now isn’t the time or the place, right?” Christopher filled in for her. He stood up and stretched, elongating exquisitely developed muscles as he reached for the ceiling. Her pleasure in watching was almost painful. He came to the bed, a strange glint in his golden eyes. Janet shivered in agitation. She was in no condition to fight him off. She didn’t want to fight him.
Her fear was short-lived. “You do remember you saying that you loved me last night, don’t you?” he asked. “Or are you going to hide behind the excuse of delirium and say you don’t remember a thing?”
“I remember what I said,” Janet admitted. There was no forgetting. “Do you remember what you said?”
“You’re hinting that I said I loved you, too?” he asked. Her pain at even his joking denial was sharp. “Well, I did say it. There’s no denying it,” he said, filling her with joy. “And I don’t make the statement as lightly as some of the other men you might have known in your life.”
“I know. You don’t fall in love at first sight,” she said, quoting his words. “You don’t fall in love at second sight, either.”
“I was unabashedly lying when I uttered that bull!” Christopher said. “I was running scared because of the hold you had on me from the start.” He sat on the edge of the bed, exciting in his nearness. “I did love you at first sight. I felt I knew you from before. You know—in another time, another place, another existence. I’m sure someone with a belief in Oriental religions and reincarnation would nave better words to describe it.”
She knew why he felt that way. She would explain. But no. She was held in check by her fear of his reaction. He had once loved a thirteen-year-old girl who had betrayed him.
Christopher brushed the back of his fingers gently along her cheek. She thrilled at his touch. “I wouldn’t want to lose you,” he said, tracing her lips with his right index finger and increasing her pleasurable chills.
He had lost her sixteen years earlier—without a word, without a letter—because the Lackland Animal Preserve had gone up in a puff of her father’s frustrated hopes and dreams. Very little had changed over the past sixteen years. The problem was now the Great Zimbabwe Reserve. A barrier still existed, not dissolved by the passing years. Christopher would see his love threatened now by the same things that had wrenched it from him when he was eighteen.
There was a trace of her fears written on her face. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he persisted, apparently reluctant to leave.
She couldn’t be okay! Her love hung in precarious balance. The slightest mistake could shatter its delicate foundations. There would be no other chances. It was now or never for the two of them. “Yes, I’m fine,” she insisted. A commitment could be made by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down with her. How tempting to run her hands through his tousled blond hair and feel the warmth of his body. She wanted him. She wanted the ecstatic joy of his lovemaking. He held the power to touch spots of wonder inside her that Bob had never explored. He was hers for the asking, made more irresistible by his admission that he loved her.
She would never go to bed with a man who didn’t love her. She would never go to bed with a man she didn’t love. Those were her guidelines—only she discovered there was more. There was the matter of degree. Janet loved him with all her heart. He loved Janet Westover. Did he still love Janet Kelley? The two women were the same—two halves of a whole. His loving one and hating the other wasn’t enough, even if it was possibly all that was available.
“How about lunch together?” he suggested.
Janet checked the travel clock by her bed. It was almost ten. “How about supper instead?” she offered. She needed time. “Once you hit a comfortable bed, you’re not going to feel like getting up too soon anyway.”
“There’s something about most of our previous supper engagements that leaves a bit to be desired,” Christopher reminded her. “You never showed up for most of them.”
“Let’s make it supper anyway,” she insisted. “I have to break my present record of no-shows sometime, don’t I?”
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “Columbus took a chance and died in prison.” He kissed her. It was too brief. She wanted more, but she resisted the temptation to carry the contact further. She must be very careful from here on in. Things must be thoroughly thought through.
He paused a moment longer on the edge of the bed, his temptation to lift her into his arms and shower her with kisses quite evident from his expression. And she was glad he wasn’t rushing her. She needed to be coaxed gently, suspecting now that his initial clumsiness with her had been born of his own fears. “I do love you, you know,” he said.
He didn’t love all of her. He loved only a part of her, Janet was sure. He didn’t know that—not yet. Maybe he never would. She must decide if she would tell him or not. She knew a piece of his love was better than nothing. She was reluctant to gamble what she had in a last-ditch effort to have all or nothing. “I love you, too,” she said. She would love him forever and ever. She had been bolstered by dreams of returning to Africa, Lionspride, and Christopher. She had dared hope for the miracle to make all the pain of the past perish before the wonder of resurrected love. But there was no coming back a next time. There was no third chance to set things right. This was it.
“I’m satisfied with that,” he said, getting to his feet. “For the moment,” he added, and Janet couldn’t help feeling flattered and excited by his obvious desire for her. “I’ll be looking forward to supper. Say seven o’clock?”
“I’ll be ready,” Janet promised. There was no more running. No matter what the consequences, things must be settled between them at Great Zimbabwe. She prayed to make the right decision. She was risking so much.
He bent to kiss her forehead, and then went to the door.
“Christopher!” she called. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him with her on the bed, naked next to her. She wanted the ecstasy of his hard body making love to her yielding softness. “Is it true about Columbus?” she asked instead.
“What about him?” he asked curiously.
“That he died in prison.”
“No,” he said, laughing. “Which is encouraging, isn’t it?”
There was a noticeable vacuum when he left. For sixteen years there had been emptiness in a part of her heart. She didn’t have the strength to endure its permanent return. That’s why she so feared Christopher finding out that she was Janet Kelley. He would find out, too—if not now, later; if not from her, from someone else. The subject would come up. Someone would drop the fact in passing. Janet would inadvertently mention something from those long-ago years. Bliss would be shattered in an instant. Would the few moments she had stolen by deception have been worth it?
She threw back her bed covers and got up; her legs weak. She was in her pajamas. She didn’t remember putting them on. She blushed with thoughts of it having been Christopher who’d undressed her, but Jill probably had done the honors.
She began to run the water in the bathtub. There was a bathtub at Lionspride far more luxurious than this one. She had bathed there once. Afterward, she had put on a chic silk dress and slid down a banister. He had seen her, had been reminded of a girl he
had known and loved a long time before. She offered the same first name, the same complexion, and the same ideals. He wouldn’t thank her for offering the same hurt. She didn’t want to hurt him again, and she didn’t want him to hurt her.
The hot water soothed her bruises, which had turned the same color as the rainbows at Victoria Falls. It was mental relaxation she wanted. She folded a towel to pillow her head. She shut her eyes. Everything would come together. It had to.
Minutes drifted by, robbing the water of heat. But Janet stayed there, finally able to analyze her long nurtured bitterness. It had never been anything but her excuse for keeping Christopher’s memory alive. It had given her a reason to come back to Africa, to Lionspride, to him. It was a tool, no longer as important once it was used. She had sworn revenge on her Father’s deathbed, but Jack Kelley had never asked her for the oath. He wouldn’t have thanked her for it had he been alive to hear it. He fought his own battles, winning or losing them on his own merits. He wouldn’t approve of her wasting her life on his account. He would have wanted her to be happy.
“What did Christopher write?” her father had asked one day, long ago. She had received another letter from Lionspride, he knew. He knew about all the letters. He sorted them from his mail and gave them to her. He never steamed them open, never held them up to the light. He never insisted she let him read them. He honored her privacy. It pained him to see what his feelings about Vincent had done to her. “Why don’t you at least read his letters, Janet?” he’d asked. They were tied with pink ribbon in a box beneath her bed. “Why don’t you answer them? What was between you and him has nothing to do with what happened between me and his father.” But it did. It put her in a position of choosing. A thirteen-year-old girl had no real choice but her father.
A thirteen-year-old girl hadn’t been able to get her emotions sorted out. A twenty-nine-year-old woman was having the same problem—only now there could be no further procrastination. Her whole life depended upon these next few hours. She was faced with a choice between either heart-rending despair or momentary passion with a man who loved only a part of her. She could delude herself into believing one moment of mutually shared enjoyment wouldn’t cheat them both.
Love's Golden Spell Page 18