Fever (2 page)

“Damn Africa. Why Africa, of all the forgotten places in the world?”

“You know why. It’s the last caveat of my mother’s will. I have to go.” At that moment Sara had serious reservations about leaving and prayed the flight would be delayed. At least she’d have more time to convince Rikki that everything would be fine. She reached to console Rikki, who edged away from her touch. “I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me.”

“Right.”

Rikki wiped a circle on the steamy window and stared into the darkening London sky with a pouty look. She was distancing. Being unattended for any length of time was abandonment and grounds for just about anything. That’s how she justified her bad behavior.

“I asked you to come. Remember?”

“Right, as if. Besides, what the hell would I do in the middle of the desert with no running water or air-conditioning?”

“You’re being melodramatic. I’ll send you a ticket and you can visit when I get settled. You’ll see.”

“But you haven’t been to this part.” Rikki scooted closer to Sara and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’d rather take my chances with the demons I know. Just hurry back.”

“I will.” Sara opened the privacy screen. “Lo, would you call the jet and give them our ETA, please?”

“Sure, boss.”

“And don’t call me boss.”

“While I’m working you’re the boss, boss.” Lois smiled and picked up her cell phone.

Ten minutes later they pulled up to the hangar and waited for another downpour to subside. Rikki stroked the side of Sara’s face and swung a leg over her thigh. “I don’t want to fight before you leave.” She ground her pelvis into Sara’s firm quad. “You are so fucking gorgeous. Have I told you that recently?”

Without waiting for a reply, she continued. “You’ve got the greatest curves of any woman I’ve ever known. Your breasts are perfectly mouth-sized and my legs slide around your hips like I’m riding a wild stallion.”

Sara could feel Rikki’s heat rising through the fabric of her slacks. “What are you doing?”

“Just reminding you of what you’re leaving—for months.”

She cupped Sara’s breasts and kneaded them as she slowly rode her leg. “And God, how I love it when you wear your hair back like this. You look like an innocent little freckle-faced imp begging to be fucked.”

At that moment Lois’s light tap on the window echoed through the limo. Sara nudged Rikki off her lap and opened the window slightly. Lois stood outside holding an umbrella and her luggage. “Sorry, boss, you have to go now.”

“Shit,” Rikki muttered, and rubbed between her legs. “And I was just getting juicy again.” She gave Sara an evil grin. “I’ll walk you to the plane.”

As they approached the jet, Sara observed a figure at the top of the steps. Silhouetted against a dim light from inside the plane the person seemed almost like an apparition, smoky and indistinguishable. When she and Rikki climbed the stairs the attendant stepped aside and transformed from outline to a strikingly handsome dark-haired, rain-soaked woman. Her T-shirt looked spray-painted across her compact breasts and puckered nipples. Excess water dripped from her black cargo pants onto the floor and pooled around her polished jump boots. Even illuminated she appeared as a shadow except for the glow of her very pale complexion and the glimmer of her eyes, like light bouncing off metal.

Those dark gray eyes simultaneously captivated and startled Sara. They seemed capable of seeing through extraneous airs and pretenses and viewing only the soul. The woman’s face appeared as delicate and burnished as the glazed patina of a porcelain doll. Her tall frame and lightly etched musculature contrasted to the inky GI Jane outfit to create an overall menacing image. Sara was unable to look away until Rikki elbowed her from behind.

“Sara Ambrosini.” She offered her hand, which their greeter ignored, opting for a slight nod. As Sara passed the woman she detected the scent of fresh rainwater mingled with sea salt. She inhaled her two favorite fragrances and wondered how this woman managed to mix and exude them in such an enticing manner.

“Zak Chambers. Welcome aboard, ladies.”

The woman’s accent was predominately American with a familiar intonation Sara couldn’t place. Her voice was deep and velvety like the slow beating of a skin drum, and its tone sent shivers rumbling through Sara.

Rikki’s high-pitched squeal pierced the small cabin. “You’re kidding, right? That sounds like a defective German handgun. Get it—Z-a-k Chambers?”

But Rikki’s amusement with the woman’s name didn’t stop her from inching closer to inspect the goods. Her gaze oozed up and down Zak’s body in slow motion, taking in every sculpted ridge and chiseled dip. “I can’t imagine anything about you being defective.”

“Rikki, please.” Sara tried to rein in her overzealous girlfriend, whose usually lax sexual restraints had apparently unraveled. If an attractive woman was anywhere on the radar, Rikki scoped her out, even with Sara standing right beside her. Sara had gotten used to it by convincing herself that if Rikki wanted to cheat she wouldn’t be so blatant.

And in this case, who could blame her? Zak Chambers
was
gorgeous—tall, lanky, and mysterious in a dangerous way. The kind of woman you fantasized about but feared meeting. Having sex with a woman like that could lead to excessive dehydration, malnutrition, and spontaneous combustion.
What am I thinking? Rikki’s flirting and I’m turned on.

“All soggy, huh?” Rikki pressed herself against Zak’s side like plastic wrap to wet glass. She ran her hand down the front of Zak’s chest and stopped just below her beltline. As if checking to make sure she had Zak’s total attention, she then moved her hand to her own crotch. “Me, too.”

Sara observed Zak’s reaction to the obvious flirting with a combination of interest, embarrassment, and curious pleasure. This woman refused a handshake but allowed a violation of her personal space that was clearly intended to tantalize. But instead of slapping Rikki’s hand away from her body, Zak simply stared at her with eyes that showed absolutely no emotion. Even her body appeared to shut down. Her tightly puckered nipples smoothed as if drained of all sensation.

Rikki seemed to sense the lack of effect her efforts were having on Zak and stepped back. “Do you have a gun? I didn’t find one, unless there’s some place I haven’t searched.”

“I thought this was an escort assignment, not a protection detail. Was I misinformed?”

“No, you’re correct,” Sara clarified.

“I mean, if necessary you could provide protection, right?” Rikki was insistent.

Zak pinned Sara with a look as convincing as her words. “Yes, I could. But I wasn’t aware there would be two of you.”

“Oh, no, Rikki won’t be going. Only me.” Sara found that idea suddenly appealing and immediately felt guilty.

“Maybe I should reconsider.” Rikki gave Zak another appreciative gaze.

Sara watched Zak’s concise hand gestures as she engaged in a series of nonverbal exchanges with the pilot. Then she said, “You’ll need to decide soon. Wheels up in five minutes.” She turned away from them, retrieved Sara’s luggage in one smooth motion, and headed toward the back of the plane.

Rikki cocked her head to one side and watched Zak glide like a trained model down the catwalk. “Jeez. What a piece of womanflesh that one is. I wouldn’t mind going on a trip with her anywhere. Not much of a talker, though, is she?”

Sara shook her head. “Is that all you ever think about, sex?”

“Of course not. I also think about no sex, when you’re gone.” She brought their bodies together and engaged Sara in a deep, probing kiss, massaging the swells of Sara’s butt as she wedged her thigh between Sara’s legs.

Sara had no doubt that Rikki would dry fuck her where she stood if she allowed it. “Stop.”

Rikki grumbled her displeasure and pulled back. “I don’t like sending you away horny, especially not with someone who looks
that
hot.” She nodded toward Zak.

“Contrary to what one of us believes, lesbians aren’t attracted to all women.”

“You know I only have eyes for you.” Rikki gave Sara a kiss and started toward the door. “I’ll call you, baby, every chance I get. Love you.”

“I hope that’s true.” As Sara watched Rikki descend the steps, she felt tremendously guilty. Before she returned, it would be clearer whether she and Rikki had a future. The private investigator she’d hired would help resolve that issue. Friends insisted that Rikki had always been unfaithful. Sara wanted to believe they were wrong.

Sara Ambrosini was still waving good-bye to her ornamental girlfriend when Zak pulled the hatch closed and secured the lock. One look at Rikki’s long blond hair, micro-skirt, two-inch nails, and door-knocker earrings told Zak everything she needed to know. Add the tawdry seduction attempt in front of her lover and the label was firmly attached—sleaze. How did women like that manage to land seemingly intelligent lovers? And this one topped it off by bedding a rich woman. But her new client’s love life was not her concern.

“Take your seat, please, Ms. Ambrosini.” Zak motioned toward the back of the plane. “I’ve placed your things where you won’t be disturbed.”

“I’d prefer to sit here.” Sara pointed to a seat next to Zak’s rucksack. “This is my usual seat.”

“Of course, this is your plane.” Zak reached for her bag as Sara moved to stop her. Instinctively, Zak backed away from the gesture. It was the second time this woman had attempted to touch her. And the second time she had avoided contact. It had been impolite to refuse her handshake when they met and rude, verging on paranoid, to recoil from a simple touch just now. She had to snap out of whatever repressed emotional state she was in and get her game on. This was an assignment like any other, and the client deserved her best effort.

Sara gave her a skeptical look. “If you don’t mind, I think we need to talk about our trip. That will be difficult with one of us here and the other in the back of the plane.”

The request was innocent enough but something about this woman set off alarms in Zak’s head. Perhaps the amber glow of her hair as it caught the dim cabin light made her appear too appealing. Or the long French braid that hung halfway down her back like a serpent lying in wait made her seem seductive. Possibly, the emerald Italian-made suit that caressed her feminine curves was just too tantalizing. Maybe it was the warmth that flowed from her dark brown eyes like hot fudge on ice cream. Or her voice that washed over Zak with the soft, soothing tide of the ocean. She stopped herself in mid-rant. So the woman was gorgeous. She’d been around many attractive women and handled herself with professionalism. Rikki was the most recent proof. But her discomfort with this particular woman was much simpler. And if she listened to her head instead of her as-of-late unchecked emotions, the reasons would be clear.

A woman like Sara Ambrosini always got what she wanted. Wealth and privilege had spoiled her for the things that really mattered in life and distanced her from other people who suffered her whims and demands. Rikki was obviously one of her entitled trophies. A woman that sexually charged, in a vulgar sort of way, constantly on the prowl, said a lot about her keeper. Sara was either a fool to think Rikki would ever be faithful or a fool who slept beneath her potential. Either way, Sara was a rich fool. Zak decided to deny her on principle alone.

“Let’s put the talk on hold. I need to rest. I’ve just come off another job.” There, that should shut her up for a while. Zak once again reached for her rucksack but Sara swung her curvy body sideways, tactically blocking her path. The cabin seemed to swallow any space for retreat as their bodies came closer together.

Fire sparked in the redhead’s brown eyes and their color changed to a murky black. She straightened to her full height, which was at least three inches shorter than Zak’s five-nine, and stared her down. A row of light freckles across her slightly upturned nose seemed to darken as her skin flushed. Perhaps there was more to her new client than just a pretty face and lots of money. A temper that quick usually covered a deep passion or belief in something. She waited for the eruption that followed the smoke and sparks.

“Ms. Chambers, I’m really sorry about your overworked schedule, but we do have things to discuss. I have questions about this trip, and you have been employed, against my wishes, I might add, to provide those answers and serve as an undesired, and, in my humble opinion, unneeded and terribly overpaid escort. The least you can do is answer a few simple questions. Is that too much to ask?”

While Sara Ambrosini paused for a breath, Zak replied. “No.” Without seeming to hear her response, Sara continued with her apparently much-needed venting tirade.

“I’ve been to Africa many times in my life and feel quite capable of handling myself there. My family vacationed in Mombasa and the surrounding area. While I understand that Mombasa is not bush country, I do believe I can find my way around and communicate well enough to accomplish my goals. And furthermore—”

She stopped as if Zak’s response finally registered. “No? You said no?”

As much as Zak hated to admit it, this woman would be her boss until they reached their destination, so she’d better get used to taking orders from Ms. Moneybags. And if she needed answers to her questions immediately, Zak would accommodate her. Just like the rich to disregard anyone else’s needs but their own. “I said no. It’s not too much to ask for information. And you’re right. My failures should never be at your expense.”