Fever (14 page)

After a period of pacing in silence, Zak stopped in front of her. The beautiful alabaster complexion of her face was tight and drawn, her eyes hard and dark. “I believe Titus Wachira had my father killed three years ago.”

Sara crossed her hands over her chest as her heart raced wildly. “Oh, my God.” She saw the pain buried in Zak’s eyes. Zak took a halting breath. Her lips parted slightly, and her bottom lip trembled. This formidable woman suddenly looked helpless and alone. Sara’s heart ached for her.

The muscles along her jaw worked as she struggled to continue. “He was a doctor. We came to the bush for three months every year to help with health care. My parents wanted to build a clinic not far from here.” She started pacing again, her right thumb digging into the side of her finger. “Are you beginning to see the problem?”

“The police, here.”

“They went to my father’s site too. A hundred people were there to help lay blocks and build the clinic. Wachira and his men showed up to stop them. When the workers refused, he gave the order to fire. My father was the only one hit—and killed. What are the odds?”

For the first time since she’d met Zak, Sara was speechless. She went to her, placed her hands on her forearms, and looked into blue eyes now drowning in tears. She had no idea how to comfort her for such an inconsolable loss. Small fragments of things she’d seen and heard fused in her mind. Zak’s overreaction to the police presence made perfect sense in this context. Her desire to protect her friends was entirely understandable.

“How horrible that must’ve been for you.”

Zak’s arms tensed under Sara’s touch. “I wasn’t there.” Tears escaped and slid down her cheeks. “I could’ve helped my father, but I wasn’t there.” She whispered the words through clenched teeth, as if saying them fully formed would be too painful. Zak dropped to her knees. “I wasn’t there.”

Sara sat in front of her and wrapped her arms and legs around her crouching form, cradling Zak’s head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I am so very sorry.” She rocked them back and forth, Zak’s tears soaking the fabric of her shirt.

Then Zak gave one final gasp, shook her head, and pulled away from Sara’s embrace. She would not be comforted. It was as if she thought she didn’t deserve it. “I should have been there. It’s my fault.”

“You had no idea what would happen. And I’m sure you had a good reason for not being with him.”

“No, I didn’t. I should’ve been with my family.”

It was obvious Zak wouldn’t relinquish her guilt. She felt responsible in some way for her father’s death, and Sara couldn’t change that. And it was certainly not the time to ask why she wasn’t there when her father died. “Is that why you’ve been so on edge since we got here, the memories?”

Zak nodded. “This place burrows under my skin and makes me crazy, like a fever. I’m hypersensitive to everything and everyone, especially you. I feel I have to protect you, to make up for past mistakes. But I know it doesn’t work that way.” Zak captured a tear from Sara’s cheek on the tip of her finger and brought it to her lips. “When I couldn’t find you this morning, I was so scared. You make me feel things I don’t want to.” She trembled. “There’s something about you.” Her eyes never left Sara’s as she added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my client and you’re with Rikki.”

“Not anymore.”

“Am I being fired again?”

“No, I mean the Rikki part. It’s over.”

“Why?”

“Think about what happened when you met her. Now add two women who didn’t resist and pictures to prove it.”

“I’m sorry.” Zak stroked the side of her face and flames shot through her. “That’s not true. I’m not sorry at all. She doesn’t deserve you.”

Sara wanted to kiss her so much that her body trembled with desire. “Thank you for saying that.” She edged closer and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Now will you please kiss me? You so want to.”

The pain in Zak’s eyes melted into passion as she licked her lips and inched forward. Just before their mouths met, she pulled away. “I can’t.”

Sara stared at her in disbelief. “Of course you can. There’s no reason to stop.”

“You don’t know me, Sara.”

“Then for God’s sake tell me and let’s move on. I know you want me. And the feeling is very mutual.”

“Don’t care about me. It’s not safe, especially not here.” Zak was on her feet and headed for the door.

“I already care more than I should and I’m pretty resilient. But I can’t take your constant running away.”

“There are too many things I can’t tell you. I would put you in danger.”

The determined, almost urgent, look on Zak’s face told Sara she shouldn’t push further.

“Fine, I’ll drop it, for now. But I don’t give up easily. Soon you’ll be begging me to kiss you and more.” Sara thought she heard a sexually frustrated moan as Zak unzipped the flap and ducked out. “Nope, it won’t be long at all.”

“And don’t leave again without telling me. Please.”

When Zak closed the tent behind her, the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Just being close to her gave Sara hot flashes that weren’t age related. Though she’d tried to lighten the mood, everything she said about her feelings was true. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but she did care about Zak, more than she’d realized. Rikki’s betrayal gave her permission to admit her attraction. Her body hummed with arousal. And Zak had almost admitted she cared as well. “There’s something about you,” she’d said. But Sara didn’t really need a verbal admission. Zak’s eyes and face were like a canvas on which each feeling was clearly painted.

No one else seemed to notice, but to her it was obvious. Zak cared, but her attraction came with a price. The reason for her ambivalence was keeping them apart. Sara tried to imagine what could be so compelling. Was it just the potential danger from Wachira? That seemed too simplistic. With an exasperated sigh, she fell onto her sleeping bag and wiggled inside. It could be any of a thousand things she didn’t know about Zak. But she was certain of only one; she didn’t plan to stop until she found out.

*

Zak joined Ben by the fire as he threw another log on top and embers shot up like sparklers on the Fourth of July. “Where is your band of merry men?”

“Home. They come tomorrow to work.”

“Did Sara approve all this labor, paying for it, I mean?”

Ben nodded and handed Zak a lukewarm Tusker from the small cooler beside his chair. “You need a beer.”

“You have no idea.” She clicked her bottle against his and downed half of it in one gulp. “Where did she find all those guys?”

“Joey was matatu driver. He brought them.” Ben took another sip and studied Zak for a moment. “She did okay today. Not your way, but okay. She did it for you and her.”

Zak wanted to protest but Ben was right. She’d practically left Sara no choice by keeping quiet about Wachira. Obviously this woman wouldn’t abide secrets or lies. Taking care of the project issues herself was yet another indication of Sara Ambrosini’s capability and resilience. She wasn’t like anyone Zak had ever met. All that intelligence, independence, and determination combined with emotional sensitivity was more than she’d expected.

“I’ll take watch,” Ben said, finishing his beer and rising from his chair. “You sleep.”

Zak nodded as he moved toward the perimeter to begin rounds. She stretched toward the fire, and the heat crawled up her legs like the warmth from Sara’s body had done earlier. Real desire had followed, a hunger she seldom acknowledged. Passion pulsed in her veins like toxic venom, seeking to consume or to be remedied. The intensity was so powerful she trembled trying to contain it, which had taken all her willpower. She’d wanted Sara’s kiss but something more frightening than physical surrender had also happened.

Telling the story of her father’s death had released emotions that demanded attention. Unlike times past, they didn’t just bump against her well-constructed defense system and tumble off. Like thieves they crept upon her, robbed her of logical reasoning, and rendered her vulnerable. And in her weakness, she’d allowed Sara to soothe her momentarily. But the comfort was too cathartic, giving her an undeserved sense of peace. The guilt over leaving her father unprotected while she went on assignment would not be so easily appeased. She’d been unable to share that part of the story with Sara. How would she feel about a woman who abandoned her family responsibilities for a job? To a woman still fulfilling her deceased mother’s requests, that answer seemed obvious. And what about the lies of omission required in Zak’s work? Sara had already proved she wouldn’t tolerate deceit of any kind.

As Zak pushed away from the fire and prepared for bed, she told herself that her decision not to engage Sara physically had been the right one. It was easy merely to have sex, but the kind of emotional commitment a woman like Sara wanted, and deserved, had never come easily for Zak. In fact, it had never come at all, which was enough reason to keep her distance. Detaching kept her defenses intact. She didn’t need to lie, and Sara’s dreams survived so someone more worthy could fulfill them. Zak’s last thought was as cold as the sleeping bag she pulled around her, as hard as the ground she settled on, and equally unsatisfying.

Zak edged closer to the front of Sara’s tent to block the breeze whipping around its sides. Low moaning came from inside, and Zak imagined Sara taking her physical needs into her own hands. The visual sent shocks of renewed desire through her. She slid her hand between her legs but was unable to touch the deep-seated ache that pounded there. Instead, she rocked herself to sleep listening to Sara’s moans and wishing she was the cause.

“Oh no, no, no. Help!” Sara dropped the water hose and jumped out of the small tub. She was reaching for a towel to wrap around her shivering body when Zak burst into the tent waving a club and scanning the area for intruders.

“What happened?” She looked like a cartoon character frozen in frame as Sara let the towel she held drop to the floor.

“There’s no hot water.” She motioned toward the offending hose, aware and grateful for the subtle shifting of her breasts as she moved. Zak’s gaze was glued to them like they were a couple of delicious desserts.

“Uh, sorry.” Her stare swept down Sara’s body and returned to her chest. The normally colorless skin of her face and neck flushed pink.

Now Zak had some idea what she had to offer if and when the opportunity presented itself again. “Guess I should’ve checked before I climbed in, huh?” She tried for her most innocent face, then bent slowly to retrieve the towel. Her full breasts hung like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked, and her rounded ass mooned the heavens. Zak watched every move. As Sara tucked the towel around herself, she thought how uncharacteristically slutty she was acting. This was more Rikki’s style, but she didn’t want there to be any doubt in Zak’s mind that she wanted her. The look of discomfort on her face said she’d succeeded.

“I’ll get to work on the problem.” Zak stroked the club in her hands like the shaft of an erect phallus as she spoke. When she glanced at Sara and realized what she was doing with her hands, she turned abruptly toward the door. “Breakfast in five minutes.”

While Sara dressed, she gloated over the uneasiness she caused Zak with just the slightest effort. That level of anxiety usually implied feelings close to the surface that should spill over eventually. But it wouldn’t happen quickly, not with Zak, and not today. This day she had to build her mother’s school. Excitement shot up her spine as she threw back the flap and stepped into the dimly lit morning.

Her footsteps caused a scurry of activity in front of her and she stopped. A herd of zebras dotted the edge of the riverbank. Their grayish-black stripes blended with the still-darkened sky and made them appear as dissected creatures bowing their heads to drink. She watched in amazement as they continued their ritual, giving her only a cursory glance. On the opposite side of the river, a group of elephants lumbered slowly toward the water, their trunks and bodies swaying in opposite directions. A troop of baboons camped out in the trees chattered in protest as the morning drinkers invaded their peaceful retreat.

“Coffee?” Ben asked from fireside.

“Please.” She turned reluctantly from the wildlife. “Does this happen every morning?”

He nodded. “And night. They all come. We are very near the game reserve.”

“I guess my sleeping hours and their drinking times don’t exactly coincide, do they?”

Zak chuckled behind them. “They don’t understand bankers’ hours.” She placed fresh scrambled eggs and bacon on the long picnic table that served as a dining surface and motioned for them to join her.

Sara dug into a huge bowl of fruit, grabbed a piece of charred toast, and started eating, amazed at how hungry she felt. “Is it the air or am I just ravenous this morning?” She glanced at Zak, trying to relay her double entendre with a sultry look.

“By tonight you’ll be hungry enough to eat raw warthog but too tired to try,” Zak replied. “The construction materials should be here shortly, and if your workers show up, we’ll be laying the foundation.”

“Have you ever actually built anything like this?” Sara asked.

“No, but Ben has worked on several projects. He knows everything about it. Besides, building a square structure with cinder blocks and tin isn’t too difficult.”