Diamond Legacy (16 page)

Matt walked right past her with a flirty wink and a chipper, “Morning, sweetheart.”

As she stared at his retreating back, a disconcerting flashback made her frown. An important decision was made last night, she was certain, but nothing coalesced. The maddening suspicion added a pounding heart to work in rhythm with her throbbing head.

And honestly, couldn’t Katanga find a uniform that fit him? The tight coveralls stretched enticingly across his broad shoulders and revealed the play of muscle as he moved. Even half hidden by the pile he carried, he still looked much too good for her comfort.

“Earth to Miranda,” Jason said.

She blinked and turned back to her companions. Letta’s knowing grin and Jason’s slack jaw made her want to squirm. What the devil was the matter with her?

“See something you like?” Letta asked.

An embarrassed flush crept up Miranda’s neck. “He’s a flirt,” she insisted. “That’s all.”

“Right.” Letta’s skepticism came through loud and clear.

“Hot diggity dog!” Jason slapped his knee with a hearty yee-haw. “There’s hope for you yet. Not once in the past two years have I seen you look at anyone with that much lust. Especially not the esteemed Hank.”

For once in Miranda’s life, she was at a loss for an adequate reprimand. She settled for a huff of exasperation and vowed to work on controlling her emotions better. She didn’t want to feel a thing for Matt, lust or otherwise, but couldn’t deny it was there.

“Who is Hank?” Letta asked.

“Her limp fish boyfriend back home,” Jason answered with relish.

“That’s ex-boyfriend, thank you, and a perfectly decent man.” She didn’t like where this conversation headed. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Suit yourself.” Jason shrugged. “But I think the janitor’s got it as bad for you as you’ve got it for him. I’d seriously think about that if I were in your shoes.”

Determined to do no such thing, Miranda crossed her arms with a glare of disapproval. Never mind that she’d done nothing but think about Matt since that day at the airport. Even dreamed about him. Vividly. She still refused to acknowledge the attraction and turned her back on Jason’s tempting statement.

“Jason’s right, you know.” Letta joined ranks against her. “The interest is mutual, no matter how much you deny it. Why not enjoy it?”

Miranda hesitated, wondering if her friends had a point.

Until Letta followed up with, “Matt is, as you Americans say, very hot stuff.”

Jason roared his approval, and they shared a hearty high-five.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Will you two please stop?” The last thing she wished to discuss was the hot-stuff janitor and the maddening attraction she didn’t want to feel. “Don’t we have work to do?” she asked Letta.

“Plenty,” Letta replied on a sigh. “Once the tents are up we’ll need to set tables and chairs. There are signs to make, a petting zoo to create. The list is endless.”

“Let’s get cracking then,” Jason said. “Time’s a wasting.”

* * * *

“I know you drank too much hooch last night,” Jason said with a grin, “but you are literally green.”

Miranda laughed and set down her paintbrush to grab a paper towel. “I think this is the most fun I’ve had since college.”

She wiped at the paint on her hands and felt a twinge of guilt for sitting in the air-conditioned conference room painting signs while everyone else worked more labor intensive chores. But when she mentioned her ability to doodle animal characters, she’d been instantly drafted.

“You seriously need to get out more,” Jason said while handing her a cold soda. “How’s the artwork coming?”

She pointed to a long line of signs waiting an application of watercolor. There were just as many completed ones spread out to dry. Welcome signs, information and instructional signs, tabletop displays, labels and tags, all drawn with animal cartoons and a decorative flourish. It had been a fun, but guilt-laced break, from the pace of the past couple of weeks.

Jason looked them over and shook his head. “Is there no end to the list of things you can do?”

“I can’t hold my own against
mampoer
, for one.” She grinned. “Nor can I paint without getting more on me than the canvas.” She wiped at a splash of purple near her elbow. “But I can draw, and cartoons are my favorite.”

“Which is why you’re on permanent sign painting detail.” Letta entered the room and dropped another list on the table by Miranda. “Here’s the next lot of signs we need.”

“More?” She groaned and held up a mangled claw of a hand. “This is what I’m going to look like by the end of the day.”

“That’s what you get for being good,” Letta replied with little sympathy. “Meanwhile, they’re asking for volunteers to set up tables and chairs.” The last she said with a pointed look at Jason.

“I guess duty calls.” With a snappy salute, he headed out.

Letta joined Miranda at the table. “So,” her friend began, “you plan on telling me what happened last night?”

Miranda shrugged and went back to painting. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Really?” Letta scoffed. “Jason says you attended a tribal wedding with Matt Bennett last night.”

“That’s true.” And the headache it caused had just begun subsiding.

“All day you’ve been skittish, and Matt’s whistling at work like a crazy person. Now I ask myself, what happened between these two?”

Miranda sighed heavily and grabbed a paintbrush. “Oh, blast, I don’t know. And that’s the problem.”

“You don’t know?” Letta asked in disbelief.

“I drank quite a bit of
mampoer
,” Miranda admitted sheepishly.

Letta’s eyes opened wide. “Mercy! Don’t you know that drink renders you mindless?”

“So I learned.” She dipped her brush into the green paint and went back to work. “Toward the end of the evening everything gets fuzzy. I think I may have kissed him, but I can’t recall.”

“Oh, my,” Letta breathed. “I think this kiss would be something to remember.”

“Exactly. Which is why I believe it was a dream.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?” Miranda paused and gazed at Letta with reluctance.

“Matt appears awfully chipper this morning.” Speculation glittered in Letta’s brown eyes. “I bet he remembers this kiss.”

Miranda froze. There was also the possibility he removed her clothing before tucking her in bed. That she had lost control was embarrassing enough, but that he might have peeled her like a banana was positively mortifying.

She’d rather believe it a dream. “I seriously doubt the kiss was real,” Miranda denied.

“I wouldn’t be so certain if I were you.” Letta rose to leave. “I’ll be in the clinic helping prep a huge amount of vaccine for injections. Come find me if you remember. I want details!”

Miranda waved at her friend and turned her focus back to painting. But with her hands busy, her mind was free to roam through last night’s shadowy events. And the worrisome suspicion that something big happened out on those rocks.

Drumbeats, dancing, even the feast, she remembered all in vivid detail. What had her chewing her lip in doubt was the vague memory of a soul-shattering kiss. It had to be a liquor-induced dream. Honestly, no one kissed
that
good.

Unable to force the memory, she gave up and tried analyzing the attraction instead. Matt was exasperating, but she understood him. They shared a unique perspective of the world due to their upbringing, and she envied his time spent in the African bush. To have that experience tainted by brutality was heartbreaking.

But it explained why he posed such a contrast, one moment friendly and teasing, the next filled with stark intensity. Forced to witness the loss of your parents in such a horrific manner would scar the toughest of men. And he’d been fourteen.

That sense of loss still overshadowed his life. The signs were all there. The way he kept personal information to himself, well, that could be due to his job. But his occasional gruff demeanor, his tight-lipped stance when asked about family, it pointed straight to pain-induced denial.

He kept the agonizing memories locked away.

Her dad had experienced the same bottled emotion after his accident. His external wounds had mended, but internal scars lingered. Matt continued to fight his demons. It also explained his choice of career. Every victory against diamond crime cut into the powerless horror he had felt that day.

The problem was, ingrained anger like that prompted crazy risks. The kind that could very well end in tragedy. The very thought turned Miranda cold.

Finished with the round of painting, she spread the signs out to dry, then grabbed Letta’s list and counted. She needed another welcome sign, two for cattle demonstrations, and one for the petting zoo. And she was out of poster board.

Time to hit the supply room. She covered the watercolors to keep them moist, tried to clean her hands, but declared it a losing battle and headed out.

Scurrying down the hall, she made for the supply corridor without running into a soul. Right up until she rounded the final corner and promptly froze in her tracks. Matt stood in front of the storage room, bent over at the waist and playing tug-o-war with Roz over his keys.

The very last person she wanted to see. Why then, did she suddenly start laughing?

He glanced up, and the humor sparkling in his eyes melted something deep inside her. Caught in an unguarded moment, his patience with Roz revealed a kinship with animals. An admirable trait in her way of thinking. And completely irresistible. She lifted her fingers to wiggle them in a silly wave.

Matt kept his grip on the keys and gave her a mock frown. “I’ve discovered Roz likes to steal things.”

“I know,” she said as she closed the distance between them. “I’ve seen her raiding your supply cart before.”

“What?” He nearly lost his grip but went back to his tug-o-war game. “And you didn’t tell me? I’ve been agonizing over how to log the shortages. How could you keep something like that a secret?”

“I figured you knew. I learned about it the day I arrived.”

The chimp kept a determined grip, shaking her head and sounding off in boisterous protest at his lack of cooperation.

“This little hoodlum needs to spend a day or two in the slammer,” Matt said as he finally won the round. “A little time in the company of felons should straighten her up.”

“I doubt it.” Miranda shook her head on a laugh. “She’d just charm every last convict and then steal them blind.”

He straightened and pocketed his keys before turning her way. Then his gaze traveled the length of her, head to toe, and the oddest sensation tingled across her skin. She’d swear she had just been caressed, and her mood shifted from playful to wary.

That need for caution intensified when he reached out and brushed a finger across her cheek, turning that caress into a reality. “What have you been into?” he asked.

It was unsettling the way her skin warmed beneath his touch. “I drew sign painting detail. Afraid I’m a bit sloppy.”

“Nah, green becomes you.”

She fidgeted when the heat in his eyes spoke of last night’s dream kiss. “Now you’re just being mean. Nobody looks good green.”

“Kermit the frog does. And you’ve got him beat hands down.”

“How flattering.”

Roz distracted them both by ambling off into the storage room. Matt watched her disappear with a critical eye. “Looking for her next big take, no doubt.” He glanced back at Miranda. “Does she ever quit?”

“Monkeys are blessed with an avid curiosity.”

“More like cursed, I’d say.” He quirked an inquisitive brow at her. “So, how are you feeling today?”

Now he wasn’t playing fair. A blatant reminder of last night’s drunken revelry wasn’t very gentlemanly.

“Quite well,” she lied.

“You were quite indisposed when I put you in bed.”

She gasped and her face heated. “You didn’t…that is…I…”

“I made you comfortable if that’s what has your tongue tied.”

“Comfortable?” Indignation straightened her spine. “More like you took advantage of the situation!”

Without a word, he grabbed her hand and yanked her into the storage room, promptly shutting the door behind them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Taking this reprimand behind closed doors.” His smile turned wicked. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

Miranda nearly snorted. “Your ego is two sizes too large.”

He laughed outright. “Now who’s being mean? Arguing in the hall would draw undue attention. Not good for you or my investigation.”

Well, blast. He was right. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve realized that. That she didn’t was totally his fault. He drove her stark, raving crazy.

Roz began making noise as she clambered around the lower shelves, knocking cans together as she scrounged around.

Miranda ignored Roz’s warning signs and glared up at Matt. “I hate it when you’re right, and you know she’s going to make a wreck of those shelves.”

His gaze remained fixed on her mouth. “And I love it when you get that hotter than Hades look in your eye.” His stare gobbled her up, like she was some sort of tempting treat.

“Be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious all right.”

Did he just lick his lips? Why did she feel like Little Red Riding Hood all of a sudden?

“Stop it!” She glared at him. “Right now.”

“Was it that bad?”

He wasn’t making sense. “What are you talking about?”

“Last night.” He stepped closer. “One minute you demand I kiss you, the next you are snoring in my arms.”

“I do not snore! And I don’t remember kissing you,” she lied again. She remembered all right, every dreamy detail. Reality had likely been far different.

He took another step toward her. “Maybe I should remind you.”

She took a step back. If he kissed her, she’d find out if the magic was real, but there was also a chance she’d forget all about diamonds and investigations and saving Katanga. “Don’t go getting all smoochy on me. It won’t work. I’ve got questions.”

His expression went from steamy to cautious in seconds flat. “What sort of questions?”

“For starters, I want to know who lives in that mansion.”