Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
She heeded my warning.
The smart girl wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, or at lunch. She didn’t go on the morning drive, and Giovanni had been visibly annoyed when she didn’t appear for the afternoon one. Thankfully, he had no luck with poachers this time around, but it made the Italian fidget in the Land Cruiser, antsy for the rush and power of controlling another’s life.
My office had shockingly little information on Amin. A low-level warlord from central Africa eager to make a name for himself. It was an odd partnership for the Abramos. Their dealings up until now had been exclusive to Europe. What would make Vitale want to branch out to Africa?
It didn’t make sense.
We unloaded from the vehicle at the front of the lodge, and as soon as Giovanni’s shoes hit the dirt, he scoured the place for Olivia. If he couldn’t get his main fix, he’d settle for the other.
She stood in the shade of the veranda, deep in discussion with her Scottish co-pilot, and as I made my silent approach, I tried not to evaluate how good her silhouette looked when she was backlit by the bright sun glaring beyond the roof.
“Olivia?”
She turned to face me, startled by my arrival. Those deep, perceptive eyes scanned me critically, but the hard expression vanished from her face when she noticed Giovanni alongside. She was guarded and cautious.
“Tell the other pilot to leave,” he ordered.
“Can you excuse us for a moment?” I said to Rory. “Mr. Abramo wants a word with the captain.”
Even though the air around us was open, the unease inside me was thick and suffocating. The Scotsman nodded and stepped away, casting a worried look at Olivia. But she nodded to reassure him it was all right.
“Tell her to meet me for drinks at the bar,” Giovanni ordered, “after I’ve eaten dinner.”
Damn it. “Giovanni—” I started.
“Gio,” he corrected, irritated.
“Gio would like you to join him for drinks.”
Her gaze flitted between us, hesitant. “Remind him I’m seeing someone.”
It was too late for that. “I can, but he’ll be offended if you refuse.”
She put a hand on her hip, her body language full of indifference. “Oh, well.”
The instant need to protect her was so disorienting, it just happened. “You will say yes to this.” The word sprang from my mouth, feeling alien. “Please.”
She jolted, startled that I was asking her to do exactly what I’d been telling her not to. “Why?”
“Because he won’t handle the rejection well,” my voice filled with dread, “and I don’t know what he’ll do to you.”
9
OLIVIA
I swiped my eyelashes with mascara a second time and tried to keep my hand steady.
This whole thing was ridiculous. I was putting on makeup so I could have drinks with a man I had no interest in. It was a lie, of course. I was putting on makeup for the dangerous man who translated for our boss.
I wasn’t sure what angle Nathan was playing. Maybe he was doing important work, but my petty, wounded pride wanted to show him what a fool he was to pass me up.
Plus, I was confident I could outplay Gio. I was a survivor.
The sky was painted in oranges and yellows at sunset, and the dust kicked up in the breeze as I followed the thin path to the main lodge. The soil beneath my shoes was pale, dirty sand that was so fine it was like powder. So different from the black earth I was used to back in America.
Frances waited just inside the lodge lobby and beamed a warm smile at me. The Swede made quite a pair with her husband. Did she know what Phillip had witnessed on the game drive yesterday? As she’d escorted me back to my room last night, she’d seemed oblivious, but there were bullet holes in the side of the Land Cruiser.
My footsteps fell lightly on the wood plank floor that had been polished to a brilliant finish, leading me through the lodge to the bar. It looked different in the fading sunlight, less intimate than last night. The men were already seated and rose when I arrived to join them.
My breath caught at the sight of Nathan. He wore tan pants and a thin, dark green sweater, with the gun in its shoulder holster over that. Not even bothering to hide it, but then again, why would he? The patrolling escorts carried guns in plain view.
Nathan had shaved and his dark hair was tousled, almost as if it had been casually styled. Like he’d made an effort. Oh, holy hell, he was a beautiful man, and I cursed my pulse for quickening at the sight of him.
His gaze drifted down my body, taking in the ivory-colored top with sheer sleeves and fitted black slacks. He looked like he was assessing me for a threat, but for all his acting, I could see right through it. His gaze had nothing to do with his job, and everything to do with the other night. The corners of my mouth crept up into a smile. He liked what he saw, even though he didn’t want to.