Moonflower (14 page)

She
touched his shoulder; he sighed in his sleep and her heart was
filled with tenderness.

What was
it that Mr Solomon had said to her? Roses did not question the
motive of the sun or complain about the rain. They flowered
wherever they had the chance to because it was their nature to
bloom. And so, Sophie decided, it was with love.

They took
the group on a game drive at seven that morning and, much to
Sophie’s delight, were rewarded with plenty of sightings. There
were no gate-crashing baboons this time to mar the outing, nor
McTavish, who had been too hung-over to attend. Clarice had not
appeared either.

Reuben had opted to sit up front with Sophie, driving the
vehicle so she was free to point out things of interest around
them. At a particular moment during the drive, as the light began
to settle over the
bushveld
, Sophie realised that she had
never been so happy before in her life; a contentment felt at the
deepest level.

She
focussed on the feeling so she would remember it, and be able to
recall the particular angle of light on the horizon, the fresh
morning air against her skin, as fragile and fleeting as her
connection with Reuben. Their relationship hung by a very slim
thread and that thread was the farm. There was no ‘them’ outside
this context. He was due to fly back to England today for three
weeks. For all she knew, this might be the last time they were
together in this way. It was fully within his rights to change his
mind about her while he was gone or decide never to return to the
farm.

The
thought made her incredibly sad, but she reminded herself of the
old eland on the farm who, with great dignity, and, against the
odds, had survived many a storm to stand proudly in his habitat and
lead his herd without fretting about what the next day would
bring.

The game
drive over, they stopped at the house to unload the guests, and
Reuben chose the moment to cover her hand with his. Sophie looked
into navy blue eyes that seemed a little sad, and her heart was
filled with a mix of joy and despair. Joy that he cared enough to
feel sadness at their parting. Despair that this might be his way
of saying goodbye to her.

‘
We’re leaving right after lunch,’ he told her quietly. ‘I’ll
try to get to the cottage before we leave. Wait for me
there?’

Sophie
nodded.

During
the course of the morning, she said goodbye to the members of the
group, giving Clarice and McTavish a wide berth. Mark, to Sophie’s
surprise, asked if she’d take a walk with him in the
garden.

‘
Um… okay,’ Sophie said warily, and was rewarded with Mark’s
famous grin.

‘
Nothing horrible, I promise,’ he assured her.

They
talked about trivialities as they walked through the garden, past
beds of lavender and agapanthus, to the edge of the
lake.

‘
Am I right in assuming our Clarice had a talk with
you?’

Sophie
sighed deeply, too emotionally wrung out to feel the indignation
she usually would at yet another intrusion into her private life.
She turned to face him head-on. ‘Okay, let’s have it then,
Mark.’

‘
Wow! Clarice must really have done a number on you,’ he said,
then shook his head and gave her that boyish grin again. ‘Not me. I
like you, Sophie.’

‘
That’s a relief,’ she said without an ounce of
sarcasm.

‘
No, really I do,’ Mark said, seeming concerned that she
believe him. ‘You’re authentic. Today, that’s as rare
as—’

‘
Hen’s teeth?’

‘
Hen’s teeth.’ Mark nodded. He hesitated before saying, ‘Did
you know Clarice was once involved with Reuben? Romantically, I
mean.’

‘
I’d guessed as much.’

‘
What you might not know is that it was years and years ago,
and it was very brief.’

That did
surprise Sophie. From the way Clarice had behaved, she’d assumed
the woman had felt usurped in some way.

‘
Reuben was just starting to make it big,’ Mark went on, ‘and
Clarice came from a privileged background. She’d never been denied
anything her heart desired, and she wanted Reuben. Seems she never
really got over him. At least that’s my opinion. My brother’s
blissfully unaware of the torch she still carries for him. Thing
is, Clarice tends to be a little jealous of any woman Reuben shows
an interest in. So what I’m saying is: don’t take anything she said
to you to heart, okay?’

At least
that part of the last few days was beginning to make sense now. The
reason Clarice had spoken to her wasn’t so much because she stuck
out like a sore thumb in their social circle. What it all came down
to was good old-fashioned jealousy. Sophie felt a sudden pity for
Clarice. ‘You know what I find so weird about the last couple of
days?’

Mark
shook his head.

‘
I really didn’t think we were being that obvious.’

‘
Oh, you weren’t,’ Mark assured her. ‘Only I know him well
enough to pick up on it, and Clarice is jealous of any woman under
the age of fifty who spends any time with him.’

Sophie
relaxed a little.

‘
You know what struck me most? My brother’s more relaxed than
I’ve seen him since we were boys,’ Mark said, thoughtfully. ‘I’d go
so far as to say content.’

Sophie
knew she probably had a look of pure joy on her face and she didn’t
care if Mark saw it. ‘Well, he’s had a couple of near-death
experiences with me. That’ll do it for some people.’

‘
I’m not even going to ask what you mean.’

‘
Thanks, Mark. For telling me this.’

He
nodded. ‘Don’t mention it.’

‘
I won’t,’ Sophie said and smiled at him.

‘
Go well, Sophie.’ Mark stepped forward to hug her, then strode
back to the house.

Sophie
couldn’t manage a bite of lunch, and the paperwork covering her
desk could not hold her attention for longer than a minute or two.
Best she could do was shuffle it into neat piles to be dealt with
later in the day, or tomorrow. She tried to do some work on her
laptop, but ended up gazing out of the window at a sky that had
faded in the midday heat.

Just
before two o’clock, she decided to go to the cottage, just in case
Reuben came to say goodbye to her. He said he’d try; it hadn’t been
a definite arrangement. But what if he’d gotten away earlier and
she’d missed him? Sophie raced to the cottage. Her hand shook as
she unlocked the door.

Reuben
looked at his watch as he replaced the handset at the end of yet
another call, another complication he’d had to sort out in London.
Two-thirty. The luggage was loaded, guests were getting ready to
leave, and all he could think about was one long-legged,
copper-haired woman in khaki.

He jumped
up from his chair and rushed from the room, racing along the
passage. ‘Tell everyone I’ll be ready in ten minutes,’ he said to a
startled Beauty as he rushed towards the back of the house. He took
the stairs into the garden two at a time, walked quickly across the
lawn, then broke into a run.

Damn it!
She might have thought he wasn’t coming and gone out again. He
needed to see her, hold her in his arms, perhaps for the last
time.

Reuben
reached the cottage and banged his fist against the
door.

‘
It’s open,’ he heard her call. He thought his heart would
explode with relief.

She was
standing in the centre of the room and turned to look at him. Green
eyes, large and moist. Full lips parted. He rushed to her and
gathered her in his arms.

She let
out a small cry, buried her face in his neck and clung to him. He
held her tightly, breathing her in. Willing himself to remember the
way she felt against him, her fragrance. Not perfume, which would
give her presence away to animals in the bush. Fresh soap and warm
skin. Utterly unique to Sophie. His one-of-a-kind girl.

‘
I didn’t think you were coming,’ she said, and there was a
hurt in her eyes he could not stand to see, so he kissed her. She
returned his kisses with a fierceness that caused every thought to
flee. He experienced her as he always did, as if he’d come fully
alive, every sense heightened to a blinding sharpness.

But
eventually reality intruded. It had to. There was his real life
beyond this farm, outside the spell she had woven around him. There
was luggage loaded into cars, guests and chauffeurs waiting for
him.

‘
I have to go, Sophie,’ he said gently, pulling away from her.
He moved back, looked away from the moistness in her eyes to the
tension around her beautiful mouth. He knew she was trying hard not
to cry and that tore him to pieces. He kept hold of her hand, took
a step back. Another step, and their hands slid from each other’s
grasp. She opened her mouth to speak. He waited, but she said
nothing, so he turned and strode from the room.

All
through the journey to the airport, Reuben thought of Sophie. He
hadn’t wanted to leave her behind. Everything in him wanted to rush
back to the farm, find her and say, ‘Quick, pack a bag. You’re
coming with me.’

But Sophie’s work, no, her
passion
, was the farm. What would she
do in London? He could not imagine her away from her animals and
the
veld
. Far from
blue skies and wide open spaces. That was where Sophie belonged. It
would be cruel to take such a wild and magnificent creature and put
her in an apartment, in a city. How long would Sophie continue to
be Sophie in such a setting?

That first image he’d had of her—striding across golden
veld
in her white lacy
bra, rifle in hand—came to mind and Reuben smiled to
himself.

She was
so different to any woman he’d ever known. That, he was sure, was
part of the attraction. But it was also part of the problem. Exotic
could be intoxicating, but uproot the exotic and it often did not
survive in its new habitat. Would Sophie even want to try? He was
sure she wouldn’t.

It was as
he sat in the first class lounge at Cape Town International Airport
that he was startled by the questions that had plagued him since
he’d left the farm. Was he thinking of a more permanent arrangement
with her? Something more formal; a commitment of some sort? But
they had no middle ground. Sophie was Sophie: passionate
conservationist, strong, stubborn, dedicated, outspoken,
unsophisticated. A diamond in the rough.

While he
was at home in the high-flying world of shares, deals, dinner
parties and mergers. Stubborn, strong and dedicated, too. A man who
had spent years polishing himself, carving out an identity in a
world that measured one only by the size of your corporation and
the illustriousness of your contacts.

By the
time Reuben boarded the plane, he was sure of only one thing: that
his relationship with Sophie could not continue the way it had. He
had to decide which way to go from here, and he had three weeks in
which to do it.

Chapter
Nine

Sophie
threw herself into her work. By day, she, Sipho and Isaac would
load up the vehicles and travel out before sunrise, and she’d work
until the sweat trickled down her back and her muscles
ached.

Evenings
she would have dinner at the house and spend a little time in the
rec room with the staff, before making her way to the
cottage.

Nights
were a little trickier. She took work back to the cottage. She had
begun to carefully document the plants, trees and soil quality on
the farm and would work late, creeping into bed only when she was
too tired to see straight.

Even in
sleep she couldn’t escape him. In dreams he held her in his arms
and she would feel the dip and curve of powerful shoulders, the
flex of muscle and smooth skin beneath her fingertips. But as the
days wore on and she heard nothing from him, the nature of her
dreams changed. He would stride away from her, she racing after
him, calling his name, but no matter how fast she ran, she was
never able to close the distance between them.

Sophie
would wake from these dreams, her heart pounding, a tightness in
her stomach. And still he did not call. She knew he kept in contact
with the Bosmans, phoning or e-mailing almost every day with a
query or instruction. How could she not be hurt when Sara or Rolf
mentioned another call from Reuben, while he kept a stony silence
with her?

Ten days
after Reuben and his guests had left, most of the staff were seated
at the table in the kitchen, finishing dinner, when Beauty let out
an excited squeal and pointed to the television playing silently in
the corner.

‘
It’s Mister Reuben,’ Isaac said.

‘
Quick. Turn it up,’ Patience urged, elbowing Sipho in the
ribs.

‘
Model and businesswoman, Kate Atkinson, was seen attending the
glittering function in aid of The Prince’s Trust last night. She
arrived on the arm of business tycoon, Reuben Manning, giving rise
to speculation…’