by Anna del Mar
A new realization hit me. I’d survived all kinds of stuff. I’d always relied on myself to ensure my own safety. I would’ve never put myself willingly in someone else’s hands. I simply didn’t have it in me to trust another human being like that.
And yet, last night, Matthias had taken charge of me. He hadn’t acted like a player. He hadn’t betrayed me. He’d acted like a gentleman, like a good, upright man, a warrior with a sense of honor. And I, I had actually trusted him with myself. The realization blew my mind.
“Babe, listen up.” Matthias sat on the mattress next to me and traced the edges of my face with his brawny fingertips, a light touch that pebbled my skin and resonated between my legs. “I want you to rest this morning. It’s the fastest way of getting over this. I’ll have Claudette bring you some food. If you do as I say, you’ll feel somewhat better by this afternoon. Got that?”
“It’s not like I have brain damage.” As long as I didn’t move, my head was fine.
“In that case…” He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine, a soft, chaste kiss that felt anything but chaste to my suddenly feverish body. “I want you to be packed and ready to leave by noon.”
“Leave?” The promise of pain kept me in place, but I lowered my chin and shot my best glare at Matthias. “You can’t throw me out of the reserve. I didn’t do anything to break the rules.”
He cased my cheek with his hand. “Don’t get all riled up for nothing.”
“But I’m not done here,” I said. “I’m not ready to leave.”
“I’m not kicking you out.” He paused and then, “You’re coming with me on a little trip.”
I frowned. “A trip to where?”
“I’ve got to run some errands and get some leave off the books.” He trailed his knuckles along the line of my jaw. “Since you’re my responsibility, I can’t very well leave you behind. With Kumbuyo around, I need to keep you with me at all times. Given that you and I have some shit pending, I figured we should make good use of the time.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but my body pulsed with excitement. Matthias and I were going somewhere. Together. The anticipation was about to kill me.
“I’d like to give you a preview,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“A preview of things to come.” His smile deepened the creases that radiated from the corner of his eyes and lit his irises with a warm golden glow.
I didn’t dare move a muscle when he kissed me again, a slow, careful exploration of my mouth that parted my lips and imbued my tongue with the wholesome taste of him. Not for nothing, but his kisses promised to take care of my headache a lot better than any medicine. He held me while he kissed me and that was good and exactly what I needed.
“Rest now.” He murmured with shocking tenderness, before he kissed me again and got up from the bed. “I have somewhere I need to be, but I’ll come get you this afternoon.” He gave me a little peck on the forehead and made his way to the door.
“Matthias?” I called after him, trying to emerge from the haze that his kisses spread through my brain. “Don’t you think that instead of telling me, you should ask me if I want to come with you?”
He stopped by the door and, hand on the handle, considered his shoes for a moment. When his face finally swiveled in my direction and his gaze met mine, his mouth curled up at the ends in an expression that fell somewhere between a smile and a smirk.
“No, babe,” he said. “I need you to come with me. So be ready, Jade. That’s an order.”
19
Jade
Zanzibar, where the Arabs met Africa and birthed an island out of the sordid affair. From the back of the car, I watched the throng go about their business, faces lustrous with sweat, a study in contrasts.
Men dressed in western fashions or wearing white robes and small caps staffed the market stalls and crowded the streets. Girls of all ages wore colorful hijabs in addition to their school uniforms. Women with long robes and their faces covered defied the stifling heat, while a few Indian ladies walked along the same street wearing saris and baring their midriffs. Tourists flaunting cleavage, bare shoulders and legs challenged the Muslim dress code and added to the chaotic melting pot. I sighed. We westerners were so conspicuous wherever we went.
As we made our way from the airport to our hotel in historic Stone Town, a strong sun highlighted the diversity that populated the crooked roads. We’d flown from the station in Matthias’s Cessna. Of course, self-reliant Matthias would own his own plane. I don’t know why I’d been surprised about that in the first place. It was a bright, shiny toy he drove out of the station airport’s private hangar, a lovingly maintained TTX single-engine four-seater, with a cream leather interior and a sleek, elegant console.
The three hour flight had been a delight, after I settled my nerves and realized that Matthias was a very good, experienced pilot. He flew the plane with the same poise and confidence he applied to everything he did. Not that he needed an image boost after taking care of me last night. Watching him fly just added to his sex appeal. God, help me, I was falling too fast and hard for this guy.
I could’ve refused to come with Matthias. He wouldn’t force me to do anything against my will. But I’d wanted to come. I was exhausted from fighting my emotions and I had an ulterior motive for coming along. I’d learned a lot about Matthias and yet I didn’t have the full picture on him. I hadn’t peeled off all of his layers yet. I hadn’t gotten to his core. He was holding out on me, why, I wasn’t sure. Plus, there were a few red flags that needed some serious sorting out. I’d come to Zanzibar to find out once and for all who the real Matthias Hawking was.
I slept on and off throughout our flight, still groggy from whatever drug had taken me down. Powerful stuff, that was. At some point, I mustered some energy to keep my eyes open, let go of my seat, and enjoy the scenic views of Africa.
We flew by the massive, snow-speckled heights of Kilimanjaro and over vast expanses of land pockmarked with the small, irregular circles formed by the traditional palisades that surround the bomas, where the Maasai lived in family compounds. My camera clicked the entire time. Looking down, Africa could’ve been a peaceful giant slumbering at my feet. But peace, of course, was only an illusion. The poachers were down there, plotting, killing, smuggling. Just because we didn’t see them didn’t mean they were gone.
A driver had been waiting for us at Zanzibar’s airport, a young man, who usually drove for Matthias when he visited Zanzibar, which was, apparently, often. Matthias opened the door for me, waited for me to get in, shut it, and then took his place in the front passenger seat. The car had air conditioning, but I didn’t like having a layer of glass between me and my camera. I shook off the haze dulling my senses, lowered my window, and shot stills as we drove.
I exchanged a grin with Matthias when I met his gaze in the rearview mirror. I was here on orders, and I still wasn’t sure why he’d wanted me to come along, but I couldn’t help it. I was thrilled and excited about exploring a new place, completely in my element. If all of that wasn’t enough, the gleam in his eyes made me even more excited about the prospects that Zanzibar held for me.
Compared to the mild weather of the Serengeti’s dry season, Zanzibar was hot and humid, set against the extraordinary background of an ocean that sparkled with bejeweled tones of emeralds and sapphires. The air was thick with the smell of fish and gutters, but also piquant with spices, pepper, cloves, and whiffs of strong curries drifting from the old city’s kitchens.
“Here we are,” Matthias said, as we pulled up to a gorgeous historic building.
I took it all in as he helped me out of the car. “This looks really nice.”
He led me into the lobby, a stunning three-story atrium decorated with artfully painted tiles and precious wood-carved screens that opened up to the sea. The staff at the front desk greeted him by name. An attendant offered me a tray with an iced hand towel and a chilled glass of passion fruit juice. I revele
d in the offerings while Matthias checked in, taking in my first views of the Indian Ocean and the refreshing breeze.
Matthias joined me on the terrace, holding two ornate, old–fashion skeleton keys marked with the same room number. His gaze met mine. “Okay?”
A shiver of delight tickled my spine and had me grinning inside, but… “Do I get a choice?”
“Babe…” The look he gave me could’ve melted the polar cap. “You always get a choice when you’re with me.”
I was no delicate flower, but I almost swooned. The way he said the word ‘babe.’ I swear, coming from his lips, so intimate and possessive, the sound felt like an addictive drug inhaled deeply into my lungs. He had a way of hitting all my buttons with every gesture and every word. It was as if he’d found the secret code to spring open all of my locks. When was the last time I’d been with a guy like him? How about never?
I reached out and plucked one of the keys from his hand. “Let’s go.”
Our room was on the third floor on its own private wing at the far end of the hotel. It was posh and tastefully decorated with a fusion of Arab, African, and Indian influences. Intricately carved lamps flanked a massive, curtained bed, draped with the most luxurious linens I’d ever seen. A spa bathroom offered every possible luxury, including a jetted tub and a shower that could house a small apartment. But by far, my favorite feature was the private balcony, a wide veranda that overlooked the spectacular beach, furnished with a pair of chaises, a breakfast table, and a hammock hanging from the rafters.
“Nice.” I hopped over the edge, plopped down on the hammock and let out a contented sigh. “This is where you can find me from now on.”
“Is that a promise?” Matthias said, rocking the hammock gently.
The fireworks I spotted in his gaze boomed in my heart.
“One rule for the weekend,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Matthias always has rules.”
“Only because I may have to go out for a while.”
Instant curiosity. Learning more about Matthias was the main reason I’d agreed to come to Zanzibar. My radar came fully on. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically.
“Work related?”
“You can say that.” He moved on briskly. “When I go, I want you to wait for me here. You can go anywhere in the hotel, to the pool, bar, stores, restaurants, lounges, anywhere you like, but I don’t want you to step out on your own.”
“Oh, come on.” I sat up on the hammock. “You’re kidding, right? I lived in Afghanistan for two years. I’ve traveled all over the world. Don’t you think I can handle Zanzibar?”
“Elections are coming up and there’s been some troublemakers running around town.”
“I can deal with whatever comes my way. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Understood.” His voice softened. “But humor me, please?”
When he looked at me like that, what was I supposed to do?
A knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Matthias went to answer it. I had to really muster my mojo to get out of the hammock and even then, I shuffled like an old woman, fighting a wall of fatigue that made me feel like a snail trudging through syrup.
“Here she is,” Matthias said when I stepped into the room. “Doctor Al-Malik, this is Jade. Jade this is Doctor Al-Malik.”
“Oh, hi.” I stared from one man to the other. My mind cranked up as slowly as a rusted gear. A doctor. Here. At the hotel room.
“Please, have a seat, Mrs. Hawking.” The doctor set his bag on the table and gestured to a chair. “Your husband tells me you accidentally ingested some sort of an illegal drug.”
“Oh, no, he’s not my…”
The subtle narrowing of Matthias’s eyes stopped me in my tracks. For the sake of cultural sensitivity, I decided not to contest the misunderstanding. “That’s right.”
“He wants to make sure you’re not suffering any ill effects from your misadventure.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have any symptoms bothering you at the moment?” the doctor asked.
“I’m a little tired, but other than that, I’m fine.”
“Very well,” he said. “If you’ll allow me…”
The doctor took my pulse, listened to my heart and lungs, and measured my blood pressure. He also drew blood to test that my chemistry was in order. He even did an EKG with his portable kit to make sure whatever drug had been used on me hadn’t damaged my heart. On paper, my heart looked good, steady and sturdy, unlike my emotions. As to the bloodwork, the lab reports would be ready tomorrow, but based on my visceral reactions, my chemistry was way out of whack and reacting wildly to Matthias’s gaze.
“I’d like to start an I.V.” The doctor pulled just such thing from his bag, like a rabbit out of a hat. “It’ll help speed up your recovery, cleanse your system, and do away with the residual fatigue. A bag or two and a little napping should have you back to full strength by tomorrow.”
I looked at Matthias. “This is all you.”
Matthias shrugged. “Be nice, Mrs. Hawking, and let the doctor do his job.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. I decided to go along with Matthias’s setup, because he’d taught me to trust him last night. Besides, I was tired. And even though he’d ambushed me, he’d done it for my benefit.
I lay on the big, comfortable bed and watched as the doctor hooked me up. As soon as I went horizontal, my eyes focused on the translucent liquid, dripping into the hose and straight into my veins. I could almost feel the soothing fluid, joining the flow and refreshing the heat in my blood. My eyelids began to close. The drone of Matthias’s voice conversing with the doctor delivered me to my dreams, which included the big bed with Matthias in it.
Later, during a break from sleep, I opened my eyes and saw Matthias working on his laptop next to me.
“You tricked me,” I mumbled. “You flew me out here to see a doctor.”
“I wasn’t going to watch you suffer through a week of headaches and fatigue when it could easily be reduced to a day or so.”
How could I feel both grateful and disappointed at the same time?
“So that’s the reason you brought me here?”
“It’s one of the reasons, yes.”
Hope tickled my toes. “And the other reasons?”
He planted a kiss on my forehead. “We’ll talk about those when you wake up.”
I drifted back to sleep with my face pleasantly burning and my lips curved up in a smile.
I woke up the next morning rested, refreshed and energized. The saline had worked its magic along with a whopping fifteen hours of sleep. It was almost midmorning by the time I got out of bed. The I.V. was no longer in my arm. Matthias, I assumed. He was not in the room, but there was a note on his pillow.
Back in a few. Enjoy the hotel. M.
I found my cell on the night table and checked a slew of WhatsApp messages.
Check in overdue, said the last of a long string of texts from Hannah. Will alert the embassy if you don’t call by 10:00 AM Tanzanian time.
I looked at the time. 9:57 AM.
Checking in, I typed and sent at top velocity. All clear on the African front.
Hannah immediately answered back. U gonna make me old.
Sorry, I wrote. Busy.
Game warden?
Work in progress, I wrote, mostly because I didn’t know how to answer that question. GTG.
I tackled Sarah’s angry messages next.
Worried. Where are you?
On assignment, I wrote. Don’t worry. TTYL.
And now for the big kahuna. I’d been putting this off long enough.
Hey, I wrote.
Mom replied immediately. Zanzibar?
I groaned. She was keeping in touch with Matthias.
Fun? she asked.
Why did you tell M that story?
My story too. Mom wrote. I like M.
Holy Toledo. My hear
t missed a beat. Mom was always nice, but she’d never, ever said that about a boy before.
Smart, she added. Fast learner.
A tad too fast for me.
Hot?
Seriously, Mom, I wrote. No more stories.
Be nice. She wasn’t making any promises.
Quick question, Mom wrote. Cleaning attic. Want anything?
There were a lot of things up there, old family pictures, letters of before Mom and Dad got married, and Mom’s exquisite wedding dress, vacuum-sealed in a special bag. I kind of wanted to keep those things, but I didn’t have a right to them. They didn’t belong to me. The dress and everything else belonged to Amber Romo, whose existence I was subbing for. One life for another. Sometimes I felt guilty about that. I lived. She died. I had her parents. Did I really deserve the love they gave me?
I’m good, I wrote.
Dad says semper fi. Miss you. Love you.
Back at you guys. I put away the cell, sighed, and opted to shake off the blues buzzing around my soul.
I had breakfast on the veranda; eggs, bacon, toast, the works. Now that I felt like myself again, the beauty of the island and the luxury of the resort persuaded me that a few hours of relaxation were not a mortal sin. I rummaged through my bag and put on my red bikini, a real space-saver, chosen for the African trip because it was so small that both pieces balled into one of my sneakers.
I threw on some shorts and a T-shirt and moseyed around the hotel before I made it to the beach. By then it was almost noon and the sea looked as gorgeous, friendly, and inviting as the hotel brochures advertised. I stripped down to my swimming suit, waded over the sandy shallows then dove in, my body slicing into the Indian Ocean in my inaugural swim.
The water was delicious, transparent, and fresh. I was surrounded by sparkling tones of jade. I was thrilled when I spotted a school of dolphins fishing nearby. I ran to my chaise, grabbed my camera, and zoomed in on those arched backs and dorsal fins as the dolphins frolicked offshore.