A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series) (13 page)

But Mortimer had helped. And she knew that marrying Mortimer would help her father forget the past. Forget the horror she’d inflicted upon him. And if marrying a man she didn’t love - didn’t even
like
very much - could, in some small way, help dissipate the cloud of guilt hanging over her head, then she’d marry Mortimer. Simple as that!

And it had all been fairly easy - until now. Until Tate Maddox came into her life and turned everything upside down.

Now, after what had happened yesterday, there was no way she could marry Mortimer – even for her father’s sake. Mortimer deserved better. He was talented, good-looking and rich. There were loads of women in Cape Town who fitted his job description for the perfect wife. Women who were far more suited to the role, and who would make him much happier than she ever could. And he could still be the heir apparent in the Van der Zyl empire. There would be no need to change things there. He just wouldn’t be bonded to Jasper by marriage, that’s all. But he’d still be his number two in every other way.

Lacey closed the bathroom door and went back into her room. She sat at the desk and picked up her cell phone. She
had
to make that call. She had to do the right thing. Either way, someone was going to get hurt. If she didn’t marry Mortimer, her father would be hurt and angry. But, if she did marry him, then Mortimer would end up with a wife who didn’t really love him. Neither man deserved to be hurt.
She
was the only guilty party – and she would gladly take on all their suffering – but Mortimer was young. He didn’t deserve to be saddled with a reluctant and dishonourable bride. He had his whole life ahead of him. If nothing else, she owed him a chance to be free of her. To find love elsewhere. To be happy.

Tate had woken up in a bad mood. He hadn’t slept well and he was annoyed that Lacey had decided to skip dinner last night rather than face him. He’d wanted to apologise for what had happened between them. Normally, he kept an iron grip on his emotions. Passion was something that happened on
his
terms. It was safer that way. No chance of getting hurt, of making the same mistakes that he’d made in the past. Besides, his sense of honour wouldn’t allow him to lead a woman on, let her think she was anything more to him than a casual friend or lover.

Tilly Du Preez was a great example of that. He’d done everything he could to make sure that she didn’t get the wrong idea about their relationship. Okay, so he wasn’t stupid. He could see that she wanted more. They always did. But he had nothing more to give. And, as gently as he could, he always did everything he could to make sure they understood that.

But not Lacey Van der Zyl.

She made him break his own rules. In fact, at the sight of those voluptuous breasts barely contained within the stretchy top, and those sweet, rosy lips, plump and luscious, he’d have been quite happy to tear up the whole goddamn rule book there and then and chuck it away if she’d asked him to. Standing there, right in front of him, with the crystal clear waters swirling round her thighs and her hair sparkling like polished amber, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And he’d have done almost anything to have her. To satisfy the ache in his groin and the tightness in his belly.

He’d thought that she felt the same. He could tell that she wanted him. He’d felt it in the way her body had curled into his, the way she’d parted her lips to let his tongue probe the warm wetness of her mouth. He could still hear her sharp intake of breath – and it had urged him on, driving caution out of the window, shattering his self-restraint.

And then, just as his body was about to explode, she’d pushed him away. She hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t even glanced at him before she’d turned and fled. He’d wanted to follow her when she flew up into the hills, to try to make her see sense, but he knew he shouldn’t.
He
was the one who needed to see sense. He
had
to let her go. She wasn’t his woman. She was in love with another man. She could never truly be his.

Tate dragged a black polo shirt out of his wardrobe and chucked it on the bed together with a pair of white chinos and a leather belt. He was struck by the sight of his own reflection in the mirror. One glance told him everything he needed to know. His hair was a mess with tufts jutting out all over the place. His grey eyes were dark, like heavy storm clouds, and there were two deep vertical frown lines scored into his brow. A haze of blue stubble covered his chin and he ran his thumb over it, wincing at the rasping sound it made under his fingers.

He laughed; a dry, humourless sound. Not quite the Cape Town dandy that a woman like Lacey Van der Zyl would normally go for, he reckoned. His biceps bulged as he raised his arms and raked his fingers through his hair in a gesture of complete and utter despair.

It was pretty obvious, really - weird that it’d taken him so long to figure it out. With his darkly tanned body, muscular physique and hairy chest, he was the proverbial “bit of rough”. The tough, unsophisticated guy from the bush. Okay, so that kind of guy might turn her on out here, with no-one else around, and Matshana weaving its spell, but women like Lacey Van der Zyl belonged in the city. They lived glamorous lives with handsome husbands like Mortimer Schutte. Women like Lacey Van der Zyl didn’t belong out here in the bush.

He knew that from past experience. Other people were still paying for the mistakes he’d made in the past.
He
was still paying for them. And, damn it, he wasn’t going to put them,
nor himself
, through all that misery again.

Turning his thoughts to more positive things, he was glad he’d accepted the invitation to Tilly’s birthday party on Saturday. He figured that taking Lacey with him might help Tilly accept the value of keeping their relationship in proportion. She was a sweet girl, and a good friend, but he felt that she wanted a hell of a lot more out of their relationship than he did. He’d tried to tell her how things really stood between them, but she just kept on hoping that things would change. That
he
would change. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to be billed as the “special” guest at Tilly’s party. He was just one of her many friends. Nothing special. No big deal. And arriving with Lacey in tow might just help convince Tilly and her family of that.

At the same time, he was hoping his friendship with Tilly might prove to Lacey that he was perfectly capable of being with a woman without losing a grip on his self control. That he knew how to treat and respect women as friends. That he liked to have women as friends. That maybe, just maybe, he and Lacey might be friends?

His thoughts were interrupted by Themba who was in the garden playing with two noisy, over-excited ridgebacks. Of course! The lad was going back to school today. How the hell could he have forgotten something as important as that?

He glanced at the clock. There was just enough time to grab a shower, shave and spruce himself up for the drive to Whitestones. He couldn’t pitch up at Pretoria’s finest prep school looking like this. Nandi could pack him a bacon sandwich, so he could eat breakfast on the hoof to save time.

He was furious that he’d allowed his obsession with Lacey to get in the way of his routine. Angry that she could still rule his thoughts even when she wasn’t with him. Somehow, the woman had managed to get right under his skin, into the blood that coursed through his veins, into his heart and his head.

And he sure as hell didn’t want her there.

Conscious of the time, he stepped outside into the shower. The early morning sun and warm water soothed him a little and, gradually, he felt the tension subside. Maybe he just wasn’t destined to fall in love and live happily ever after with the woman of his dreams. So what? He’d always have Matshana. He didn’t really need anything else. He certainly didn’t need a glamorous career woman from Cape Town who spent every waking hour writing gossip. Why, even now he could hear her bashing away at the keyboard on that blasted laptop of hers. She never stopped working, did she? Never stopped earning money for the Van der Zyl empire.

Tate knew that, if he ever did find love, she’d have to be a free spirit just like him. She’d have to love Africa - the
real
Africa - just the way he did. And she’d certainly have better ways to channel her creative energies than dishing the dirt on people just to make money. There would have to have more to her than that. A tall order, maybe. But one Tate wasn’t willing to compromise on.

‘
Baba
!’ Themba raced up the lawn to greet him. ‘I am going back to school today.’

 

‘I know you are, buddy. And I’m going to drive you there, remember?’ ‘Is Lacey coming, too?’ Themba stood on tiptoe to reach the top of the shower wall.

 

‘No. She’s busy right now. I can hear her working in her room.’ Themba listened intently. ‘I can hear her, too. She is always very busy. Like Mama.’

 

Tate grinned. ‘I guess so. Now hand me that towel, will you? We’ve got to get a move on if we’re going to make it in time.’

‘Am I allowed to go and say goodbye to Lacey?’
Tate rubbed his hair with the towel. ‘Sure you can.’
‘She will not mind? Mama gets cross if I talk to her when she is busy.’

‘This is different. I’m sure Lacey will want to say goodbye. You know how much she likes you.’

 

Themba grinned. ‘She said I am her favourite little boy. She said that I am very special.’

‘Dead right! So she won’t mind her important workload being interrupted by a “special” visitor. But don’t be too long. We’re heading out as soon as I’m dressed.’

Themba raced round the veranda to Lacey’s room. When he arrived, he found her garden doors flung wide open. He skidded to a halt and called her name to announce his arrival. Immediately, the typing stopped and Lacey came out to join him.

‘Wow!’ she said, placing her hands on her hips and angling her head to look at his school uniform. ‘Don’t you look great!’

‘I am going back to school. I have come to say goodbye.
Baba
said you were very busy, but that I am allowed to see you because I am special. Am I special?’

Lacey dropped down to Themba’s eye level. ‘You certainly are special. And I’m glad you came to say goodbye. I’m going to miss you, my darling.’

‘I will be back again soon,’ Themba replied solemnly. ‘You do not have to cry. Mama says I must not cry when I go to school because going to school is a good thing.’

‘And, as always, your mama is right. Going to school is a very good thing.’

 

‘Did you go to school when you were little?’ Themba slipped his hand into Lacey’s as they walked round to the front of the house.

‘I did, and I loved it.’
Did your mama cry when you had to go away?’

Lacey gulped and forced a smile. ‘I think she may have done. Once or twice.’

 

‘That is because she loved you,’ Themba volunteered. ‘Did you cry, too?’

 

Suddenly, Lacey felt the tears start to prickle. ‘Yes… I cried, too. Sometimes.’

 

‘Because you loved her?’

 

Lacey nodded. ‘Yes, darling. Because I loved her. I loved her very much.’

Themba’s attention was diverted by Kaya and Jabu who came hurtling round to the front of the house where Tate was shoving a huge trunk into the boot of his Mercedes. The dogs bounded up to Themba and proceeded to jostle for the right to slurp his chin and paw his chest.

‘Stop that! Naughty dogs!’ Nandi yelled, waving her arms in a bid to shoo the animals away from her pristine youngster. ‘Do not encourage them, child, or you will have dog hairs all over your blazer. I am surprised the
Nkosi
did not tell you that.’

‘Don’t blame me! I’m innocent!’ Tate muttered as he shoved the last of the bags into the boot and straightened up. ‘Now what I want to know is, what the hell is all this stuff? When I was at school all we were allowed was one miserable trunk. We certainly weren’t allowed this amount of baggage. You’re only going away for a measly half-term, kid. You’re not going trekking in Timbuktu for five years, you know.’

Themba grinned sheepishly, and half-heartedly wiped the front of his blazer with one hand, while tormenting the two dogs playfully with the other. ‘I am allowed to bring some toys to play with. Other boys do.’

‘Okay. Fair deal,’ Tate laughed. ‘Just so long as there’s enough room left in the car for you and me.’

‘Are you not going with them, Nandi?’ Lacey asked, studiously avoiding Tate’s eyes, but conscious that he was watching her from beneath those two jagged brows.

‘I have work to do here, Miss Lacey. And I do not like to go for long journeys in a car. It makes me sick.’

 

‘And she moans non-stop!’ Tate teased, taking care not to talk directly to Lacey.

Nandi didn’t seem to notice the tension between them, even though they were practically circling each other like a couple of combatants in a ring. Both nervous. Both wary. Avoiding eye contact.

Eventually, with the car crammed full of luggage, Tate and Themba were ready to go. They climbed into the car and leaned out of the windows. Nandi bent down to hug her son who was now struggling to hide his tears. On the driver’s side, feeling a little safer with the car door between them, Lacey whispered goodbye to Tate.

‘You okay?’ Tate queried, concerned by the haunted look in her eyes.

He was still angry with himself for causing her pain, for losing selfcontrol and failing to respect the fact that she was engaged to someone else. Sure, she’d returned his kiss, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be unfaithful to the man she loved. It just meant that she’d been carried away by the heat of the moment. So had he, if the truth be known. He shouldn’t really be beating himself up about it. That was pointless. At the very worst, he might end up as an amusing anecdote at swanky Cape Town dinner parties for a while. But he’d be miles away, here at Matshana. And, in the end, that was all that really mattered.

Lacey was surprised by his gentle, caring tone of voice; the warmth in his smile. She desperately wanted to blurt out the truth, to tell him that she was sorry for running away like a frightened young springbok. She wasn’t like that normally. She wasn’t the kind of woman who went round flirting and breaking men’s hearts. Besides, if anything, it was
her
heart that was close to breaking now.