Drowning (5 page)

Now, I felt sick with nerves as I dialed his cell number from memory, noticing as I did so that it was eight-thirty in the morning. I imagined the signal bouncing between satellites during the surprisingly long time it took to connect.

It rang three times before he answered.

“Vince Mitchell.”

With the unfamiliar number I was phoning from, he didn’t know it was me calling, of course. Even so, I couldn’t help smiling at the sound of his voice: the rushed, impatient way he had of speaking, as if there was never going to be enough time on the planet for everything he needed to do.

“Vince, it’s Erin.”

“Hey, baby. Thank God you’re okay. It’s so good to hear you.” His voice softened, warmed, and with a huge rush of relief I realized it was going to be all right. I had been a fool to even anticipate that this conversation might be difficult.

“It’s so good to hear you, too.”

“I was so worried for you. The police said your car actually washed off a bridge.”

“It did.”

“It was raining so hard, I don’t even recall crossing a bridge.”

“We were a long way behind you when it happened,” I reassured him. “Nobody could have known it would collapse. It was very sudden.”

“But you got out okay?”

“Yes, I did.” Better to say nothing about the drowning, I decided. It might trigger further questioning on the subject of resuscitation. “I’m fine and so is Bulewi. He ended up on your side of the river.”

“Bulewi? Who’s he?” I could hear suspicion in his voice.

“The driver,” I told him, laughing.

“Oh. I forgot his name. And the car?”

“I have no idea where it is.”

“It’s gone?” His voice was suddenly louder. “Jesus Christ, seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s underwater somewhere, I suppose. I know there was some of your gear inside as well. Can you email me a list of what was there? I’m online again now.”

“Well, you can do it from my hotel room later, can’t you? Where are you now?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m at a game lodge called Leopard Rock. It’s run by a local couple. Mrs. de Lanoy and her staff have been wonderful to me.” I crossed my fingers behind my back as I spoke.

“Give me the coordinates, and I’ll come pick you up. I assume the bridge is passable again by now?”

Clearly, the police had given Vince only the most basic information, which was a good thing for me, but his ignorance of my situation was a problem I hadn’t expected.

“When the river flooded, it was completely washed away.”

“So how can I get to you?”

“You can’t, Vince. I’m stuck here until the bridge is rebuilt. It could take a few days, apparently.”

There was another short pause.

“You’re kidding me,” he said. His voice was hard. “It can’t take that long. There has to be another way.”

“This
is
the middle of nowhere, remember. The bridge is gone, and the lowlands are underwater, which means the tracks that go through to the Kruger Park are also impassable.”

“What about a helicopter?”

I had heard Nicholas mentioning something about flying supplies somewhere. Carefully, I replied, “I’ll ask Mrs. de Lanoy. But I don’t think there’s one on the property.”

“You mean you haven’t checked yet if there’s a helicopter available?”

“No. I didn’t think of doing that.” My mouth felt dry.

He was silent again.

“This is all very convenient, Erin,” he said in a cold voice that made my stomach twist.

“H-how do you mean?”

“I don’t know myself. It just seems… strange. That the driver managed to get to the other side of the river, but you ended up somewhere that has no way out.”

“Well, I am telling you the truth.” On the defensive yet again, I realized with a sickening sense of finality. I could see how this conversation was going to go; the way so many others had done recently.
You’re lying to me. No, I’m not. Yes, you are. No, I’m not
.

“We’ll see about that, I suppose,” he said, thankfully choosing to cut the argument short. “I’ll call you later when I’ve compiled a list of the equipment.”

“I’ll speak to you then. I miss you, Vince.”

I could hear the placatory tone in my own voice, the neediness in my words.

We disconnected and I let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

This wasn’t right. This was not fair. Why did I have to walk such a tightrope to assuage his imaginary fears? It was crazy that, in order to try and prevent an upsurge of the jealousy I’d come to fear, I’d ended up telling my husband a lie that could easily come back to bite me.

With hands that felt suddenly cold, I did what I hadn’t thought of doing until now, but should have done before I told Vince this story.

I Googled Leopard Rock.

Four pages into the
Google search I thought I was safe, primarily because there was another Leopard Rock, an up-market housing complex, in a different part of South Africa. I could only find three references to the Leopard Rock game lodge where I was staying now.

Two of them were outdated links on tour company sites, leading to a web page for the hunting safaris that was no longer operational. The other was an article on the expansion of the Kruger National Park, which mentioned that the border with the estate had now been opened.

No mention of Nicholas.

Not, at any rate, until I reached page five.

The piece was on the blog site of Angela Sands, a twenty-four year old Australian travel journalist, and it had been written in June of this year.

The guide book promised me that Leopard Rock Estate was a brand new safari lodge, but imagine my disappointment when I arrived at the gate to find it was no longer operating as a business and had been sold into private hands. Fortunately, the owner, handsome bachelor Nicholas de Lanoy, was on the premises, and agreed to show me round this beautiful estate. An offer of dinner led to a wonderful week of enjoying his hospitality and touring the area, including several trips into the Kruger National Park itself, where I saw and photographed all the Big Five.

The area is astonishingly beautiful, with warm temperatures year-round, and although Leopard Rock’s luxury accommodation cannot, sadly, be enjoyed by tourists, there are a few other estates in the area that cater to visitors and are rated four- and five-star…

I read the blog post twice. Then I looked at the photograph of Angela herself. She was blonde and beautiful, smiling broadly and confidently out from the screen. There was no doubt in my mind that she had been made the same offer by Nicholas, and unlike me, had taken him up on it.

I buried my head in my hands.

If Vince Googled the estate and read to page five, I was in serious trouble. The words “handsome bachelor” said it all, and that was before the writer had offered the not-so-subtle hint as to why she’d stayed for seven days after being invited to dinner.

And this was not beyond the bounds of possibility, because Vince had used Google in the past to check up on where I had been when I went out without him. Once, we’d ended up in a huge fight because I’d told him I was visiting Daryl Anders, one of my girlfriends. While I was out, he’d gone online and found the name Darrell Anders, who turned out to be an ex-football star who lived in the Upper West Side. Vince became certain I’d gone to see the football star and even after he’d finally given me the chance to explain, I don’t think he believed me.

The ice cream had melted on my waffle. Though queasy, I forced myself to eat half of it, along with a few more pieces of fruit, so as not to disappoint Miriam. The sun was pouring in through the window and I had a feeling the day was going to be a scorcher.

To my consternation, I found the shower was not working. Only a trickle of water dripped from the tap before it dried up completely. I smoothed my damp hands over my hot skin, then chose a fresh T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts from the borrowed clothes in my cupboard. Now, I couldn’t help wondering with a sharp and illogical flicker of resentment whether any of them had belonged to Angela
the Australian journalist, so confident and lovely and three years younger than me.

Gathering up my courage, I went to find Nicholas.

The morning was awash with sunshine. It streamed into the lodge, spilling onto the warm, tiled floor, causing the polished furniture to glow and the cream-colored walls to seem light and bright.

Outside the front door, the sky was a cloudless, radiant blue. The air was completely still and already very warm. The white Land Cruiser, restored now to a state of sparkling cleanliness, was parked next to the left wing of the lodge, further down the curving driveway. Joshua was outside, with two of the estate staff, loading up some large jerry cans from what I supposed was a store room into the back of the vehicle.

“Morning, Erin,” he called.

“Morning,” I responded. “Do you know where Nicholas is?”

“He’s just come back from a run.” Shielding my eyes, I looked in the direction he was pointing. “He’ll be down there now, I think.”

I looked and, for the very first time in radiant daylight, I could see the breathtaking view of the estate. The tarred driveway stretched down between ranks of tall, slender trees that I couldn’t identify. On either side of the driveway was an expanse of green lawn studded with fruit trees. Further out, the manicured lawn gave way to miles of bushveld; emerald tufts of coarse grass, gnarled-looking thorn bushes with twisted branches, and a long way down the hill, I could see dense overgrowth following the meandering curves of a stream or river.

I walked across the grass toward the swimming pool, which was under a tall avocado tree with broad, dark leaves. Half the water was shaded by the tree and the other half sparkled in the sun. I could see some ripe fruit hanging from the tree—full, rounded, deep green in color.

Nicholas was swimming laps. He was doing a fast and efficient crawl stroke. His powerful arms cut through the water, and where the sun touched his skin, it shone in burnished gold. Watching him, I felt a complex mix of emotions. Relief that I had resisted his charms yesterday. Regret—shameful as it was to admit—for the same reasons. What would our night together have been like if I had said yes?

I couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like to wake up beside Nicholas. How he might have smiled at me with sensual promise in his eyes before reaching for me again. I wondered if his skin would be as silken to the touch as the water made it look. How would his body feel if I smoothed my hands over his shoulders, down his muscular back…?

I jumped as the cell phone in my pocket started to ring, wrenching me back to reality, and not a moment too soon.

Vince was calling again. Hurriedly turning my gaze away from the water, I answered as fast as I could.

“Hey there.”

“I’ve got that list of equipment.” His voice was cold. I could only hope that if he’d been busy making the list, he hadn’t had time to look up Leopard Rock online.

“Great. I can’t write it down right now, so if you could email it as I asked you to, that will be best.” I had told him to send it online, so why was he calling? Since when was I his damned secretary?

I was surprised by the sudden surge of defiance I felt.

“You can’t write it down? Where are you?” he pressed.

“I’m outside.” The harsh cawing of a bird flying overhead confirmed my words.

“Outside where? You were inside when I spoke to you ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m outside,” I said patiently, though once again I was starting to seethe with frustration. It seemed that enforced separation didn’t sit well at all with Vince, which was something I hadn’t had the chance to discover about him. During our passionate courtship and our subsequent short marriage, we’d spent just about every waking moment together.

That was clearly how it needed to be once again. We’d been so happy during that time, without the outside world intruding.

“Have you asked about the helicopter?” he said, his voice sharp.

“No, I haven’t. It’s only been a few minutes since we last spoke. I’m not Superwoman, you know. If I was, I could fly across the damned river.” I was tired of his badgering, and if my words came across as sarcastic, I found I didn’t care. My gaze strayed back to the swimming pool where I found myself mesmerized by the rhythmic stretch and flex of Nicholas’s muscular arms.

“What are you hiding from me, Erin?” Vince asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

There was a long silence, during which I had the opportunity to regret my outburst.

“Hiding? From you?” I asked incredulously, managing to suppress a pang of guilt. “Nothing. I’m hiding nothing. This is how things are.”

“Is that so?”

“Vince, look. I don’t understand you. Why are you being like this? I’m the one who was in an accident. I’m the one who—who could have drowned when my car got washed off the bridge. If you don’t believe me I’ll—I’ll go down to the bridge and take a photo of it later, on this phone.”

“You do that,” he said, cynicism dripping from the words.

“I have to go now. I’m going to find out about the helicopter.”

“Let me know when you’ve done that, too,” he said in measured tones.

“I’ll call you back.” I stabbed the disconnect button, furious at being so distrusted and disbelieved. More than that, I was disturbed by the fact that the man I’d married was starting to show such a different side. It left me feeling upset and vulnerable and very far removed from the cheery, unflappable Erin I’d always thought myself to be.

Turning once again to the pool, I saw Nicholas had finished his laps and was standing in the shallow end. I realized with a little skip of my heart that he’d been watching me, but as soon as he noticed me looking at him, he dropped his gaze.

I hadn’t seen him in swimming trunks before and couldn’t help but notice the tanned perfection of his rugged body, his skin glowing bronze in the punishingly hot sun. Gleaming with water, his muscles looked taut, ripped, hard as marble. Once again, I felt assailed by conflicting emotions. What was done was done. I had remained faithful to Vince. I had refused Nicholas’s offer. But staring wasn’t a crime… was it?

“Want a swim?” he called.

Did I ever!

“We switched off the pump this morning to save fuel, so there’s no water in the rooms yet. Come on in. I’m about to get out.”

To my relief, his voice was the way he’d sounded when we had first met. Firm, authoritative, with no trace of the intimacy I’d heard the previous night.

“I don’t have a swimsuit,” I said.

A slight smile warmed his face at those words. When it faded, I saw he was watching me again, more intently, the way a leopard might eye out its prey.

“Swim as you are. Your clothes will dry fast enough in this heat. There’s a towel on the table under the covered balcony.”

I put my phone down on the towel. Then I stood in the shade by the shallow end and dipped a toe into the water, which felt refreshingly cool, but not cold.

I sat on the tiles and looked at the lapping waves, catching a glimpse of Nicholas’s sculpted legs as he strode away to get his own towel.

All I had to do was put my feet in. Then the rest of me. It wasn’t difficult, so why did it suddenly feel as if it was? I loved swimming, so why was I finding it such a problem to get in? Looking at the expanse of water in front of me, I felt frightened.

“I think I’m okay, actually,” I heard myself confess in a shaky voice.

There was a long pause. To my surprise, Nicholas discarded his towel and jogged back toward the deep end of the pool. He cut through the water in a clean, athletic dive and surfaced a few seconds later, shaking water from his tawny blond hair.

He swam toward me and waded the last few steps into the shallows. As he came closer, I could see droplets sparkling on his broad shoulders.

“You nearly drowned,” he said. His pale eyes met mine, his gaze hypnotic. “It’s not surprising you don’t want to get into water again.”

He held out his hand.

I took it.

“Don’t be scared. There’s no need to be,” he said.

I’d been wrong to think that my “no” of last night had changed everything. The tension I’d sensed between us was still there; an attraction hummed like an electric current, growing more powerful the closer we got.

My legs slid into the pool, looking smooth and pale under the surface, slender in comparison to his muscular thighs. I could feel my clothing start to float around me and the cool touch of the water on my skin. I held onto Nicholas tightly and he held me. His skin was slick and wet, and under it I could sense the raw virility in every movement of his body as he buoyed me along.

“You’ll be okay,” he told me.

Slowly, he walked backward into the deeper water until it covered my breasts, my hair swirling around me. My legs pressed against his as I floated in the dappled shade—I wanted to wrap them around him, but I didn’t dare, because it would be for all the wrong reasons. I could feel him breathing fast. His arm was around my waist; my hands were clasped over his shoulders.

Behind me, barely audible over the lapping water, I could hear the soft trill of my ringing phone.

Vince doesn’t trust me
, I thought, in a brief and illuminating moment of despair.
I’m already damned in his eyes, whatever I do.

Nicholas and I moved toward each other in the same moment. My mouth brushed his, softening under his touch and then parting, opening. His lips were cool, but his tongue was warm as it slid against mine in an utterly sensual caress.

As our kiss deepened, I heard him groan with pleasure. The sound struck a chord of desire within me, causing my fingers to dig into his shoulders and him to pull me closer, holding me tight against him, feeling the firmness of his well-muscled body and the more intimate hardness of his arousal. I thrust my hips against it, feeling its thickness, the outward physical embodiment of the same desire that had pooled inside me.