Moonflower (19 page)

But the
old man stopped her with a gnarled hand. ‘You remember what’s worth
fighting for. You remember that,’ he told her, shaking her
arm.

‘
What’s worth fighting for, Mr Solomon?’ Sophie asked, a little
taken aback by the vehemence in his voice.

‘
You’ll know. In here,’ he pointed to his stomach. ‘You trust
that feeling. You hear? You trust that. Some people think too much.
Much too much thinking going on.’ He jabbed a finger at his head.
‘That’s doubts. You go by what you feel here.’ He patted his chest.
‘Even if it seems crazy, that’s what’s worth fighting
for.’

Sophie
did not see Reuben the next day, but he came to her that
night.

He’d
arrived at her door; his expression confused, a little desperate,
and she wondered if he’d wanted to stay away but had found he
simply could not.

‘
Reuben,’ she began, but he’d shaken his head and silenced her
with a kiss.

She
tasted brandy on his tongue and, although not possible, the kiss
left her feeling as if she too were intoxicated.

He took
his clothes off, then hers, in silence, and held the length of her
nakedness tightly against him.

He
carried her to the bed, and would not let her go. Kissing her
mouth, her face, her neck, his body pressing into her centre until
she slipped her hips beneath his and with his tongue still swirling
in her mouth, took him deep inside her.

‘
Ah, Sophie!’ he eventually cried out with release, and she was
unable to think as she rode the steep, dizzying wave of her own
climax; her mind empty of all thoughts, all doubts.

Until she
lay with her head on his shoulder, his arms circling her
possessively, and listened to his rhythmic breathing as he slept.
It was then she wondered about the passion and was it sadness she’d
heard in his voice? Had he come here tonight to make love to her
for the last time?

Sophie
without Reuben. It had become a strange and startling idea. On this
farm at the tip of Africa, the clamorous streets of London, the
city’s high-rises and boardrooms had seemed far enough away to pose
no real threat to her joyful existence.

But
Reuben was due to leave for England in two weeks. Had he begun to
tear himself away from her? Would he leave and never return? The
thought made her want to curl into a ball and wrap her arms around
her body that ached so terribly at the thought of separation. Four
years of losing herself in her work stretched ahead of her, but
always waiting for him to return, for the sound of his voice in the
passage outside her office and the call that would summon her to
the main house, the first sight of him as she mounted the verandah
steps.

Sophie
could not stand the aching it caused in her. So she reached for him
in the middle of the night, her hands and lips caressing him into
wakefulness. And it was perhaps the reason he responded with a
passion full of bittersweet intensity.

Chapter
Twelve

Reuben’s
parents arrived the following Tuesday.

Sophie
had been sure they’d be fabulous people, judging from the sons
they’d produced. Two such dynamic men had to have accomplished
parents. But what would they think of Sophie?

Would
Reuben try to keep their personal relationship a secret? What a
horrible humiliation to have to soldier through. And if Reuben was
open about their affair—would they be disappointed, or alarmed, to
discover that their celebrity tycoon son, who had worked so hard to
get where he was, had fallen for an ordinary girl who was most at
home stomping through the African bush?

Reuben
himself, Sophie knew, was doing his best to extricate himself from
the relationship, and failing. Sometimes the tension between them
seemed almost too much to bear. They hardly spoke to each other
now. The lion’s share of interaction between them was confined to
hours of frenzied lovemaking in the cottage at night. A break from
reality, a darkened bubble of jagged breath, hoarse cries,
trembling hands and straining limbs.

But he
had not come to her last night, and she could not stand to be away
from him. The emptiness of the bed next to her threatened to
swallow her up, and her skin felt impossibly hot against the sheet.
The huge white moonflowers Mr Solomon had placed in her room the
day before filled her nostrils with their exotic sweetness, their
fragrance seeming to curl around her limbs.

Her head
swam with images of Reuben; his beautiful face twisted with
pleasure as she mounted him. Strong hands on her hips, commanding
the plunging rhythm of deep penetration and slick withdrawal. How
could she accept that she may never feel these things
again?

She was
suddenly sure he would not come to her while his parents were in
the house. And he was due to return with them to the UK in a week’s
time. Did that mean that last night was the last time they’d ever
make love? Why hadn’t she thought of that? She had simply lost
herself in him as she always did, but if it had been the last time
she’d ever feel him against her skin, wake in the night covered in
the scent of him...

Her mind
became fevered at the thought. She had to find him. She needed to
know if she would never touch him again.

She flung
out her arm to toss the sheet aside, pulled on her clothes and
rushed from the cottage. Her heart hammered and her face burned
and, when the house came into sight, she began to run. She took the
verandah steps two at a time, raced across the tiles and fumbled
with the key before she got his door open.

A
three-quarter moon showed Reuben asleep on his back, the sheet to
his waist, an arm flung across his bare chest.

Sophie
climbed onto the bed beside him and shook his powerful shoulders.
‘Why didn’t you come to me tonight? Why?’ Her voice was filled with
longing, desire, anger.

His eyes
flew open.

‘
Did you not want this, Reuben?’ Her hand slipped beneath the
sheet, her palm gliding over the line of soft belly hair that
erupted in curls at its base. He grew in her hand as she caressed
him.

Reuben
sat up, looking furious with her, and Sophie felt suddenly
frightened that she’d made a terrible fool of herself. She withdrew
her hand, made to scramble from the bed, but his cry of ‘No!’
stopped her.

‘
Take off your clothes,’ he ordered.

Kneeling
on the bed beside him, her fingers trembled as she undid the
buttons of her shirt. One at time, slowly, moving the fabric aside
and letting it slide from her shoulders, down her back. He moved a
curtain of copper hair aside, his eyes feasting on her aching
breasts, but he did not touch her.

Sophie
wanted to cry then, perhaps with the sheer force of her love for
him, or desire—hot and hard tonight—coursing through her. Her heart
still pounded, her body flowing with adrenaline. She trembled,
catching the flesh of her bottom lip between her teeth and biting
down as hard as she could.

Reuben’s
tilted her face upward so she was forced to look at him. He was
frowning, eyes travelling over her face, stopping at her mouth. His
thumb rubbed across her lip, freeing it from the ache of her
teeth.

‘
I am lost with you, Sophie. Take off your clothes,’ he
repeated.

Sophie
wanted to ask him what he meant. She wanted to fling herself at
him, biting and scratching. Cradle his face in gentle hands and
kiss him with all the tenderness she had ever felt in her
life.

She rose
on her knees, and, balancing on knuckles, stretched one long leg
backward off the bed, then the other. Standing, she unbuttoned the
denim shorts and folded back each side. She wore no knickers.
Slowly, she eased the fabric over her hips, one hand slipping
downward to caress herself.

Briefly,
her eyes met Reuben’s as he watched her, mesmerised. Sophie closed
her eyes, tilted her head back and continued to pleasure herself
until her breath came in gasps that were short and sharp, and
Reuben leapt forward with a strangled cry and drew her down to the
bed.

Breathing
hard, he entered her almost immediately, his teeth nipping her
neck, his hand squeezing her breast, and Sophie thought she smelled
the moonflowers again. Her head swam with their sweet exotic scent,
the room blurred with moonlight as she floated and seemed to twist,
plummet and swirl in the air with only Reuben to keep her from
flying off forever.

He
stroked her face as she lay in his arms. He kissed her cheeks and
murmured in her ear. ‘You are the wildest of creatures, Sophie.’
Kissed the smoothness of her chin, his lips tracing the gentle
sweep of her jaw. ‘You come to me in the moonlight. In fragrance
and shadows.’ He buried his face in her hair and was still. Sophie
thought she heard him murmur against her hair, ‘I am powerless with
you. You cannot be caught. Never tamed,’ but she could not be
sure.

Sophie
stayed away from the house when his parents were due to arrive.
Reuben had asked Beauty to let him know when she returned from the
bush. Why hadn’t she made the effort to be here when his parents
arrived? And why should he care?

He really
didn’t know how much more of this he could stand. He knew the
situation was taking its toll on Sophie, too, and it was like a
stab of pain to his chest.

He was
sure she was trying to distance herself from him any way she could.
So why didn’t he put her out of her misery by ending it? He didn’t
have to be here. In fact, he’d spent far too much time at the farm
and rumours in London were rife; his competitors making the most of
his continued absence.

Sophie
had stated in no uncertain terms that she wanted the four-year
research programme on the farm. She could stay, and he must return
to London. It was a simple enough solution.

His
parents were due any minute now. He strode from the room, but he
did not head for the verandah; he went in the direction of the
garages.

Sophie
was in her office, half turned from him, her hair like a curtain of
fiery sunlight around her shoulders. He stood in the shadow of the
doorway, watching her fingers work as she scooped up handfuls of
hair into a thick ponytail. He should have had his fill of her last
night, but there seemed to be no slaking his hunger for her. Desire
tightened every muscle in his body and pounded in his
ears.

And she,
too, was aware of his presence in the sudden stillness of her body
and the slow raising of her head. Her eyes met his and for a moment
neither spoke.

‘
I thought you’d be at the house to meet my parents.’ He was
unable to take his eyes off her.

Sophie
rose from her chair, but stayed behind the desk. ‘I thought you
might want to do that in private.’

‘
Yes, but then I’d planned to introduce them to the
staff.’

He
watched Sophie’s gaze move to the window. She took a deep breath
and looked back at him, the effort of a smile on her face. ‘Of
course. You must let me know when Sipho, Isaac or I should take
them for a game drive.’

Reuben
shook his head. Took a step towards her. ‘You don’t have to stay
away, Sophie.’

‘
Don’t I?’

It was a
genuine question; he saw pain in her face, not defiance, and it
stabbed at his heart. But he could give her no further
assurances.

She
stepped around the desk in one graceful, fluid motion, went to a
shelf and lifted down a first aid kit. ‘I’m looking forward to
meeting your parents along with the rest of the staff,’ Sophie
said, crouching on the floor to open the kit.

‘
And they’re looking forward to meeting you,
Sophie.’

He had
said her name in a whisper and the longing in it was obvious. He
knew he played with his own feelings no less than hers. Never
before had he displayed such weakness and he disgusted
himself.

‘
Why is that?’ she asked, not looking up at him.

He
couldn’t stand being forced to look down, impotently, at the top of
her head, her shoulders and face turned stiffly away from him. He
wanted to take hold of the thick silkiness of her ponytail and turn
her face up to him, lips parted, eyes languid, willing him to take
her mouth.

He
scowled at her. ‘They watch a lot of wildlife shows on television,
so they’ll have a few questions.’

He
thought he saw a flicker of hurt or disappointment in her eyes as
she looked up at him.

‘
I’ll gather up Sipho and Isaac and we’ll be happy to answer
any of their questions.’

Sophie
had sent the rangers ahead to explain that she’d had to take a call
from the farm’s vet. Which was why all the staff were already
gathered by the time she was able to make her way to the
house.

‘
Miss Kyle?’

Sophie
heard her name called from the verandah, but with bright sunlight
behind her, she couldn’t make out the person standing in the
shade.

‘
Miss Kyle, is that you?’

Sophie
strode up the stairs and went to the woman who had called her name.
She had hazel eyes and very dark, glossy hair. Very like
Reuben’s.