by Ava Miles
Boyd seemed to straighten up behind her. “What news?”
“Warriors from three other tribes in these hills and the Sekenani Valley have arrived with great concern about a businessman flying over these hills in a helicopter. He has armed guards, and he’s looking for us.”
“I didn’t think the medevac people came like that,” she said slowly.
“They don’t,” Boyd said harshly. “Also, I would think the person calling them would have told them how to find the village.”
“Exactly,” Arthur said. “From their description, it sounds like Iggie rented a chopper and some hired muscle. They didn’t have uniforms and they were packing AK-47s. My money is on mercenaries.”
Oh my God. She’d known he was culturally tone deaf, but this was unacceptable. “Mercenaries are a dime a dozen in Africa,” she said softly. The thought of armed men storming through these hills was so wrong, she wanted to jump out of bed and find Iggie just so she could throttle him.
“It’s upsetting the surrounding tribes, as you might imagine,” Aunt Clara continued. “They aren’t used to anyone coming uninvited into these lands, especially with such an aggressive approach. The medevac helicopter is different. I would imagine it would be here soon.”
“I’m not going,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Arthur said, his mouth tilting into a smile.
Her aunt rose and touched her brow. “She’s fit as a fiddle too, and getting fitter every hour. The flower fits its name.”
“It has a name?” she asked, eager to hear it.
“Naserian said your aunt could name it.” Uncle Arthur was grinning now.
“I called it Life Giver, and so it does. You should both know that Naserian and Lemayian had visions that someone with great darkness would come and try to take the flower.”
“Iggie is just the kind of asshole who would do that,” Uncle Arthur said.
“He sure is,” Boyd said, rubbing her arms.
Did that mean Boyd bought into the visions wholesale, or was he simply suggesting Iggie was indeed capable of this kind of disrespect? She still wasn’t sure what she believed. The flower was real and it worked, but she still had questions.
“Looks like things just got a heck of a lot more complicated.” Boyd rose, his brow furrowing.
“Exactly,” her uncle said. “We’re thinking Iggie reached Simon and Jaali after they called Connor, and when the Maasai warrior with them refused to take him to the village and wouldn’t tell him our exact whereabouts, he upped the ante, so to speak.”
“Iggie doesn’t like being told no,” she said softly, considering the scenario.
“Who does?” her uncle said. “Or maybe he came from Nairobi with the soldiers and the Maasai warrior got defensive. Right now, we don’t know the full story, but the chief has sent some men to check in with Simon and Jaali. Bottom line: Iggie’s causing tremendous upheaval in the area. The other tribes feel threatened. Also, he’s blabbed his big mouth about the flower. The tribes he’s visited have been asking about it.”
“Terrific,” Boyd muttered.
“How did the tribe explain all their old people before?” Michaela asked.
“The elders kept to their own huts if visitors came around,” Clara said. “No one shows up without being announced because no one enters this land without the chief’s permission.”
“This can’t be how the tribe envisioned things going,” Boyd said. “It’s reinforcing every reason they kept the flower secret in the first place.”
“Exactly,” Aunt Clara said, “but we’re going to do something about it when he arrives. Unless the chief’s warriors track them down first.”
“We weren’t reachable, sure, but it’s ridiculous that he’d bring armed men,” Michaela said. “And we sent a message. We’re clearly not in any danger from the tribe.”
“But Iggie wouldn’t think like that,” Boyd said. “He’s paranoid even in a sleek corporate office. The field would worsen that.”
“Certainly after being in Customs,” she said.
Then the whooshing of a helicopter sounded overhead, and Boyd gently moved her, settling her back on the mattress, and rushed to the entrance. “Don’t worry,” he called back. “It’s just the medevac people.”
“I’m still not going,” she said, giving him her best smile.
He was shaking his head. “I’ll tell them, but let’s have them check you out anyway. Maybe I can get a message to your brother on their radio or sat phone, should they have one. Let him know we’re okay.” Turning to Aunt Clara and Uncle Arthur, he said, “Okay, before I take care of our guests, any other news?”
Her aunt smiled as the commotion outside grew louder and pulled something out of the hand-woven bag on her shoulder. “We now co-own the Maasai’s land with them. Notarized by Naserian and Lemayian’s daughter.”
Michaela squinted. Her gaze caught her aunt and uncle’s names scrawled at the bottom of the deed alongside Chief Mingati’s signature. They’d done it, all right.
“Oh. My. God.”
Chapter 21
Boyd couldn’t ignore the bad feeling in his gut.
Even though he’d left a message with Connor’s assistant using the medevac team’s sat phone, things still didn’t feel right. He hadn’t mentioned she’d been ill, however. It hadn’t seemed wise to leave an inflammatory message like that. Better for Michaela to tell him in person, so he could see with his own eyes she was okay. Fortunately, the doctors had confirmed she was on the mend, and she had steadily improved over the next two days.
The entire village was still on high alert, but he’d done his best to keep that from Michaela. She was getting well and embracing life in a way that made his heart happy when it wasn’t racked with worry about Iggie.
Or the fact that he and Michaela probably would not be ushering the flower into the world after all.
“You’re worrying again,” Michaela said, rising from the bed. “Come on, it’s time for another therapeutic walk around the village and some sun. Where’s my family, by the way?”
“They’ve all taken to village life like eager-beaver new Peace Corps recruits. Your uncle is in the village pub with the men, drinking and sharing news. He’s says it’s like his Bingo night at home. Funny, but I can’t see your uncle playing Bingo. I always thought it was boring.”
“Wait! They have a pub here?”
“Yep.” He wouldn’t mention it was for men only. “I can’t remember their name for it. Your aunt is teaching some women to knit. Yesterday, they taught her basket weaving.”
“And Hargreaves?”
This time he couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s with the warriors. They’re teaching him how to throw a spear and make poisoned arrows. That’s some butler your aunt has.” He’d never forget the way Hargreaves had stood by Michaela’s sickbed with him, let alone the fact that the man had broken protocol to call him by his first name. Man, he might as well admit it. He kinda loved the guy. “Do you think Hargreaves would come and work for me? I think he’d make a great lab assistant.”
“Only if you want my aunt to use a spear on you,” she said, laughing as well. “Also, no more soups today. I don’t care how healthy they are.”
“Nothing heals like plant extracts, Mickey, and you know it.” So good he was wondering if he could market and sell them—with the village’s permission, of course.
“But I feel about ninety percent now. The flower really does work wonders.”
“It boosts the immune system faster than anything I’ve seen,” Boyd said, coming over to put his arm around her. “But you’re only eighty-five percent, Mickey. Don’t push it.”
She caressed his jaw. “At least you stopped fussing over me long enough to shave. You were starting to look like a caveman. You need to stop treating me so delicately, Boyd. I mean, you haven’t even really kissed me.”
“I don’t want to drain your energy. Do you realize how sick you were?”
&nb
sp; She twined her arms around his neck. “Kisses are healing.” Although he didn’t want her to push herself, she didn’t seem to be straining as she rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his neck, and man, did it feel good.
She ran her arms down his chest. “Touch is healing. So is sex, by the way.”
He snorted. “Are you going to break out your rendition of ‘Sexual Healing’?”
“I’ve always loved that song.” Her hands traveled to the hem of his pants. “You’re a scientist. Think of all the endorphins you’ll release inside me. Oxytocin is as good for the body as it is for the soul. I’ll bet the medevac people would have prescribed it along with rest and fluids if it had crossed their minds.”
Okay, that had him laughing. “Your clinical attempt to seduce me isn’t working.”
Taking his face in her hands, she looked him straight in the eye. “Forget the science then. I want to make love with you. Don’t make me beg you for it, Boyd.”
How was he supposed to fight that? He could take care of her and make sure it wasn’t too strenuous. He lit a kerosene lamp. “Let me close the door to our lovely hut here. I just hope your family will see the closed door—ahem, hide—and not barge in. If it had a door handle, I could hang my shirt on it or something. Being caught by your aunt and uncle or Hargreaves would rank up there with getting an erection in seventh grade when I first caught sight of Amber Pereguin in a yellow bikini at the pool.”
She laughed. “Poor Amber. I remember this story. She asked if something had happened to you and whether you needed a doctor. I’m trying to remember the first time I saw an erection. I think it was—”
“Mickey, we don’t have time for erection recollections,” he said, shaking his head.
“Then I’ll strip. You should do the same. You know, a hut in a Maasai village works for me. It’s not the Ritz, but I’ve never been that kind of girl.”
Stripping off his shirt—the only concession he’d make right now—he joined her on the bed. “This sucker still is hard as a rock, and I miss my pillow. I’m getting soft.”
She put her hand on him, and his eyes almost crossed. “Soft? I think not.”
Chuckling, he removed her hand. “We’re focusing on you. Stop playing around.”
Her fingers tickled his chest. “Make me.”
“You are feeling better,” he said, opening her legs. “Now, lie back and shut the hell up.” He grinned a little as he lowered his mouth to press a kiss at the apex of her legs.
“Yes, sir,” she said with a moan.
His hands came to rest on her hips. “I love you, Mickey.”
Leaning up on her elbow, she touched his face. “I know. I love you too. Please, Boyd, make love to me. I know you’re trying to be noble here and take care of my needs, but that’s not how I want it.”
“You were on your deathbed a few days ago,” he said, his jaw clenching at the thought. “Don’t fight me on this. I want you completely well. I can’t…”
She sat up all the way, searching his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“So trust me when I say I can do this without zapping my energy.” She traced his lips. “Be with me. There’s no greater healing force on earth.”
They kissed, long and slow, and he lowered them to their sides. He caressed her breasts as their tongues continued to dance, and his hand strayed to all the places he’d washed with a wet cloth when she was wracked with fever: the slope of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, the valley between her breasts, and the backs of her knees. His touch was a loving benediction, and he let gratitude wash through him as he felt her skin’s cool, smooth perfection under his fingertips. He never wanted to feel it burn like that ever again unless it was in desire. When he reached down to run kisses up her inner thighs, she surprised him by pushing him onto his back and straddling him.
“I need you,” she whispered. “Right now.”
He helped her lower herself onto him, aware she was already trembling, and groaned at the friction. “Should you be on top?”
“Shut up.”
She was always bossy, but then again, so was he. His smile seemed to put one on her face. He raised his knees to support her back since this was how she wanted it, and she moved on top of him, slowly, ever so slowly. Holy freaking Christ. The urgency of his body made him want to close his eyes and simply luxuriate in their rhythm, but he didn’t allow himself, needing to keep an eye on her. God, she was beautiful. Flushed and sensual in the soft lamplight. His heart cracked wider, love and light spilling out of it. He hoped she now knew how much he loved her.
“Stop watching me like you think I’m going to keel over,” she whispered. “You’re not with me all the way.”
“I can’t help being careful after what you’ve been through.” He traced where they were joined, making her moan and cry out. “Come for me.”
“Not without you.” She ground her hips into him, urging him on.
He sat up with her, arranging her legs around his hips. The position would still be gentle, but it was more connected this way. Deeper. He was fighting the urge to take her harder every second. Threading his hands into her hair, he looked right into those beautiful green eyes of hers.
“Don’t hold back on me either,” he said, and then he kissed her, pulling her to him. Bringing himself deeper.
She clenched around him, moaning into his mouth as he used tongue and teeth to urge her on. Rocking against her, he swallowed her cries, feeling sweat gather at his spine. Her legs tightened around him, and he knew she was close. He angled back so she’d take him even deeper, and he felt her pulse around him.
“Take more,” he whispered, still holding back. “Take everything.”
She cried out, going higher for him, and then he pressed his face into her neck and let himself come, biting his lip to keep from crying out himself. God, he’d missed her. That she was healthy enough to be with him like this was a relief, and he felt a huge ball of emotion rise up in his chest. He’d been trying to push it away. Hadn’t he cried his guts out in the woods after she finally woke up?
“Hey,” she said quietly, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
But she hadn’t been, and he couldn’t shake the image of the skin he’d just loved and caressed bathed with sweat. “I know. I’m just having a moment. Oh, Mickey…I’m so glad you’re better. I was so freaking scared.”
She kissed his shoulder. “I’m glad you were with me. I know we think it was the flower that saved me, but having you stay beside me… It kept me going, Boyd. I know it did.”
He liked to think that too. “It means…everything that you’d say that after what happened between us… Shit. I’m sorry. I’m pulling it together.”
She feathered his hair off his forehead. “You don’t need to apologize, Boyd. Heck, I’m probably going to have a complete meltdown in the future about this too. You know how it goes. The body heals first, and then you deal with the emotional side. When I tell my family what happened, I know I’m going to lose it. Caitlyn will start crying or my dad will wrap me up in a bear hug…”
“I’ll be right beside you then too,” he said, raising his head. “Now you should probably sleep.”
He gave her a pointed look, but she only smiled. “Can’t. Endorphins and the like. And happiness. I’m so glad we’re back together, Boyd.”
Tracing her cheek, he grinned back at her. “Me too.”
A loud whooshing sounded overhead, and he heard shouts and cries outside the hut. So much for leaving a message with Connor. Clearly, it had been ignored.
“Iggie is here.”
Chapter 22
Clara recognized the black helicopter before it landed in the middle of the village, causing villagers to cry out and rush for cover.
Well, most of them were rushing away. The warriors had formed a circle around the perceived threat, spears at the ready. Oh, she was going to give Iggie a piece of her mind for not heeding Boyd’s message to Connor that the
y were all fine.
“What a disaster!” Arthur put his arm around her as he reached her. “Is that the same chopper we saw in Ireland?”
“No, Arthur. They have a whole fleet, I imagine.” But the Merriam Enterprises logo on the side was as unmistakable now as it had been then. On that occasion, her nephews Connor and Quinn had, quite rudely, landed on Becca O’Neill’s land. Their sudden appearance had triggered an episode for Becca, who suffered from acute agoraphobia. Although there’d been reckoning between the Merriam siblings, she knew it had been difficult for Trevor to forgive his brothers for hurting his now-wife. It seemed a bad omen, to say the least, that such a helicopter should be here now. “Iggie must have ignored Boyd’s call to headquarters—”
She broke off as the helicopter’s door opened, revealing none other than Connor himself, followed by Iggie and four mercenary types in green camo loaded down with an arsenal of weapons. Well, that explained it! If seeing her nephew hadn’t boosted her blood pressure, the sight of the warriors brandishing their spears surely did. “My God, who knows what Iggie told Connor.”
“The village is readying like there’s a war brewing,” Arthur shouted over the noise.
“Who can blame them? I need Hargreaves. Immediately.” Better to be prepared for any sort of villainy. Iggie wasn’t to be trusted. As for why Connor was here like this, they’d see…
Turning, she saw him running toward her, his normally calm demeanor absent at the moment. “Madam—”
“Hide or guard the flowers, Hargreaves, and take Sironka and some warriors with you,” she said in a crisp voice. “Just in case.”
“A wise move,” Arthur said as her butler took off in a mad dash. “Come, my dear. Seems the younger generation has some learning to do regarding the spirit of international cooperation.”