Stiletto Safari (19 page)

Sighing, I logged off and wandered back outside. About twenty-five people stood around the bonfire laughing and drinking. I couldn’t see Hamish anywhere, but he’d warned me he’d be late.

“So, Zara, are you looking forward to tomorrow?” Ismail cheekily asked as I took the seat next to him.

“Tomorrow? What, Sunday? Yeah, sure, I guess. Or do you mean the fact that I turn the big 3-0?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Amy kick Ismail’s shin.

“Ow, what was that for?” Ismail yelped.

“Nothing, idiot,” Amy replied.

Understanding seemed to dawn on Ismail’s face.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Hamish is taking me tomorrow, would you, Ismail?” I innocently asked.

“No, he certainly would not,” Amy answered for him.

“She’s right, as usual,” Ismail answered before giving Amy an affectionate squeeze. I wondered how many people had picked up on the fact that the two of them were now a couple. To date, they’d kept things very quiet.

Getting them together had been easy in the end. As I’d suspected, Amy was already in love with Ismail. All I had to do was make a few encouraging comments and leave them to it.

I felt lips on the back of my neck. Turning, I saw Hamish’s perfect face looking into mine.

“Ismail was just about to tell me where we’re off to tomorrow, but now that you’ve arrived, you can tell me instead.”

Unfortunately, Hamish didn’t take the bait. “You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he responded mysteriously.

Chapter 29

“A

re your eyes still shut?”

As if in reply, I stumbled on the uneven ground. The dry grass was pricking my sandalclad feet uncomfortably. Who said surprises were fun?

“Hamish, this surprise better be worth it. You’re injuring me.” My tone sounded a bit irritable.

He laughed and, coming up behind me, released the blindfold.

In front of me was a light plane. “Excellent,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “We’re obviously going somewhere, but where is the pilot?” Looking around the empty expanse, I couldn’t see anyone.

Hamish looked at his watch. “Late as usual. I guess we should just jump in.”

“Are you sure?” I said hesitantly.

In answer to my question, he pulled open the passenger seat and helped me up. He then proceeded to climb into the pilot’s seat.

“Haha, very funny, Hamish. The pilot is going to be furious when he sees you sitting there.” I was nervous Hamish was going to accidentally bump something.

Hamish didn’t answer. He was too busy putting on headphones and motioning for me to do the same. “Ready to go?” he inquired.

“You can’t be serious! I’m not flying with you. You don’t know how to fly a plane,” I yelled above the noise of the engines.

“Perhaps I do,” Hamish yelled back.

He settled back in his seat, fiddled with a few controls, and proceeded to say something incomprehensible into the headset.

Up till the moment the plane lurched forward, I was pretty sure he was just messing around. As the plane started gathering speed for take-off, however, I started to feel very nervous. I looked over anxiously at Hamish. He gave me a huge smile and a thumbs-up.

Fabulous; it looked like my thirtieth birthday would be my last.

Remarkably, we took off without incident. As we gained altitude, my breathing slowly returned to normal and I was able to look out of the window without feeling sick.

Hamish put his hand on my thigh. “Fun, isn’t it?”

‘That’s one word to describe it. A more apt word might, however, be terrifying!”

Hamish gave a deep laugh and patted my leg reassuringly.

“Since when have you been able to fly a plane, anyway?”

“Well, I had my first lesson a couple of weeks ago and this is my maiden flight without the instructor,” he cheekily responded.

I must have turned a deathly white because, laughing, Hamish said, “I’m kidding, Zara. I’ve been flying for years. I learned in the UK when I was in my early twenties, so you’re in very good hands.” He gave my leg yet another squeeze.

“So where are we going?” I decided to change the subject before the nausea returned.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

“Seriously, I need to know.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do,” I insisted. “I get really airsick and I can only see one sick bag.” I picked up the bag, “Oh dear, it has a hole in it.”

Hamish looked at me in a slightly concerned way. “Well, we’re in for a kind of long flight—we’re going to Zanzibar.”

“Zanzibar,” I squealed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to go to Zanzibar! This is so exciting!”

Hamish smiled contentedly.

“So when will we arrive?”

“Why? Are you feeling sick already?” he queried, looking worried.

“Oh no,” I said brightly, “I made that up so you’d tell me where we were going. Although, having said that, I did think I was going to be sick when you said you’d only just learned to fly. That’s the scariest thing anyone has ever said to me. But now I’m feeling much more relaxed.” I stretched out and put my hands behind my head as if to prove the point.

“It will take us at least five hours to fly to Zanzibar,” Hamish said smoothly.

“But we’ll only just get there and have to turn around and come back, won’t we?” I pouted.

Hamish looked at me with mock seriousness. “Now that wouldn’t be much of a birthday present, would it?”

I shook my head with the same mock solemnity.

“Then it’s fortunate that we’re going for a couple of nights.”

I was speechless. This was the best birthday present ever!

Then it hit me. “Oh no,” I groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Hamish said sharply. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Of course I want to go! This is beyond perfect except for the fact that I have no clothes apart from what I’m wearing.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve already considered your predicament and I think I’ve got it covered,” Hamish responded cheerfully.

“You do?”

Hamish was evidently feeling pleased with himself. “Look behind you.”

Craning my neck, I was astonished to see my bag stowed behind Hamish’s seat. I was impressed.

“What did you pack me?”

“Nothing but bikinis, of course. Actually, I have to confess: I had a bit of help.”

“Who helped?” I asked suspiciously.

“Gabi.”

I started to laugh, “You know what? Good choice. Gabi’s fashion sense has come a long way.”

We spent the next few hours happily chatting. Hamish pointed out interesting landmarks along the way. From the air, Africa was like a patchwork quilt. It was amazing how varied the landscape was. In the course of only a few hours we flew over desert; lush, densely treed forests; open savannahs; huge, snaking brown rivers; and farmland.

After a few hours we reached the coast of Tanzania. The empty beach glistened white in the summer sun, and the sapphire sea sparkled. The water was so clear we could see the coral outcrops beneath the gentle swell. In the distance I could see a blot on the horizon: Zanzibar!

As we approached the tarmac, my anxiety returned. Most plane- related deaths involve light planes and landings. Still, Hamish seemed to know what he was doing. He looked very professional as he flicked switches on the instrument panel and talked to flight control. I needn’t have worried; we landed without a hitch and taxied to a stop in the private charter section of the airport.

The first thing that struck me as I exited the plane was that it was hot, almost stifling. My dress clung to my body. I still had no idea where we were staying—hopefully somewhere on the beach, or with a pool, or preferably both.

I looked around for Hamish. He was a couple of meters from the plane, talking to a uniformed official. Every time I looked at him I was amazed by how effortlessly cool he was—I don’t know how he did it, but wherever he was, he always looked the part, whether it was at a celeb party, counting wildlife from a jeep, or parking his plane. I decided his coolness was probably a product of very healthy self-esteem.

“Time to go.” Hamish came and slipped his arm around my waist. A porter had already headed off with our luggage. An air-conditioned four-wheel drive was waiting for us. Hamish turned to me and brushed a stray hair off my face. “Straight to the resort?”

“Uh-huh, sounds perfect,” I murmured, snuggling into his arms.

The resort was about an hour from the airport. When I saw where we were staying I was blown away—it was luxe on speed. Beautiful Moorish-inspired buildings with lovely archways and mosaic floors were set around an enormous marble swimming pool. Canopied beds flanked the pool and overlooked the dazzling white-sand beach.

Our villa was amazing. It was right on the beach and had glorious views of the ocean from every room. Outside, we had an opulent day bed and plunge pool fringed by softly swaying coconut palms. Inside, there was a master suite with a king-size bed stylishly draped in blue silk and a huge ensuite bathroom with a sunken stone bath for two. There was also a luxuriously appointed lounge area. Flopping down on the oversized couch, I happily declared, “Hamish, we’re staying here forever.”

A champagne cork popped and Hamish joined me with two glasses. “So I chose well?”

I gave him a long, deep kiss in reply.

Nibbling on my ear, he huskily murmured, “I’m not sure we’ll be seeing much of the beach.”

A bottle of champagne later, we moved from the lounge area to the sumptuous bedroom. Almost immediately I noticed a little turquoise box on one of the pillows. My heart started beating very fast. I stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly afraid of what was in the box.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Hamish gave me a gentle nudge.

Nervously, I picked up the box. It was ring-size, and I really didn’t want to open it. What if it was an engagement ring? I’d totally freak. I mean, Hamish was amazing, but there was no way in the world I was going to commit to spending the rest of my life with someone I’d only known for a couple of months.

Hamish was staring at me intently. Awkwardly I gave the ribbon a little tug and peeked inside the box. A gorgeous solitaire diamond sparkled back at me in the soft light. My heart stopped beating and I broke into a cold sweat. Without thinking, I slammed the lid shut.

Hamish gave me the oddest look, “I thought diamonds were supposed to be a girl’s best friend. You don’t like it?”

Deflated, I sat down on the bed, trying to choose my words carefully. “No, I love it, or would love it in a year or two, but I’m just not ready yet.”

Hamish was looking really confused.

“Not ready for what?”

“You know, what this signifies.” I shook the box in my hand in a meaningful way.

“You’ve lost me, Zara.” I could see by his face that he really didn’t know what I was talking about. I was beginning to think he was a bit thick. “I’m not ready to get married,” I replied, feeling annoyed that he was making me spell it out.

Hamish burst into laughter—not exactly the reaction I had expected. Suddenly I felt terribly flustered.

“Shut your eyes,” Hamish commanded, finally gaining his composure.

Reluctantly I shut them. A second later I could feel something cold around my neck.

“Now, have a look in the mirror.”

A gorgeous diamond pendant sparkled back at me. Oh my god, I was the world’s biggest idiot. Hamish wasn’t proposing at all.

While the pendant really was beautiful, I was desperately trying to work out a way of recovering from the world’s most awkward moment. I mean, really, who actually thinks their boyfriend is going to propose that quickly?

“Um, the champagne, you know…” I finished rather lamely.

Rather than yelling “psycho” and running from the room, Hamish simply responded, “Lucky I have a healthy ego; that rejection could have been crushing.”

Not wanting to dig myself into an even bigger hole, I bit my lip. Every time I thought about the incident, though, I died a thousand times of embarrassment.

For the next week we lazed in the sun, sipping cocktails, eating delicious seafood, talking, and laughing. It was the most amazing time of my life. By the time we headed back to Namibia I was definitely a hundred percent in love. So in love, in fact, that I’d almost forgotten about the arrival of Sasha Friend…

Chapter 30

“A

bsolutely gorgeous pendant,” Amy gushed as she poured me another glass of wine.

“Hamish,” I said by way of explanation, squeezing Hamish’s hand tenderly. “It’s Namibian too,” I added, more for Ismail’s benefit than for Amy’s. I figured he might like to get her something before they headed back to London.

Ismail and Amy were throwing me an intimate birthday dinner party. They’d gone all out, and the food and wine were exquisite.

“So the
Vogue
crew is already here, Zara. You must be so excited about your interview,” Amy quipped conversationally. By now everyone knew about my
Vogue
interview. I guess I had a big mouth.

“Yeah, it will be great,” I replied, really thinking that it would be far greater if Sasha Friend got busted for cocaine possession at the airport.

“As much as I’m looking forward to reading your interview, Zara, I’m actually much more excited about seeing Sasha Friend,” Sam enthused. “She’s got to be the most gorgeous woman in the world. I’d give anything to date her!”

“Sorry, you’re out of luck, mate,” Ismail joined. “I was chatting to one of the photographers and the word is that she’s head over heels for some loaded English guy. He apparently lives somewhere in Africa, and that’s why she’s here.”

Hamish was looking uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.

“Maybe I should track him down and kill him,” Sam said hopefully. “What do you think?”

“Sure, that should do it, Sam. Kill the love of her life and she’ll be head over heels for you,” Amy remarked sarcastically.

I couldn’t believe Hamish still hadn’t said a word. I mean, if he didn’t have any feelings left for Sasha, why wouldn’t he just tell everyone that he was the English guy, he’d dated her, and it was totally over? It was only a matter of time before everyone found out, after all.