Moonflower (15 page)

To the
casual observer, Sophie seemed unfazed by this news, but in reality
her heart hammered painfully as she watched him incline his head
and whisper something in the model’s ear. The beauty looked
delighted, smiled broadly at his comment and leaned against his
side.

Sophie
wasn’t sure how she managed to keep up the charade of finishing her
dinner as if she didn’t have a care in the world, when she wanted
so badly to run from the room. She shovelled a few forkfuls of food
into her mouth before taking her plate to the sink, wishing
everyone a goodnight and, at last, dashing for the refuge of the
cottage.

She was
at the end of the path when a dark shadow moved suddenly in front
of one of the garden torches staked in the ground.

‘
Mr Solomon,’ Sophie said. Her heart was broken; all she wanted
to do was get to the cottage, where she could deal with the
emotions that were tearing her apart.

He took a
step towards her, peered up into her face. His eyes narrowed, he
shook his head, and for a moment Sophie felt transparent as a
jellyfish.

‘
Come with me,’ he said, turning and walking stiffly down the
path.

‘
I’m not feeling well this evening, Mr Solomon. Perhaps another
time.’

He
stopped, turned back to her and with a beckoning hand, said,
‘Come!’

Sophie
sighed and followed him down the path. He stepped off the paving,
tottered onto the lawn and around a corner. Sophie came to a stop
beside him in front of an enormous bush, bowed beneath the weight
of a glorious display of yellow roses.

‘
What d’you see?’ he asked her.

‘
A rosebush.’

‘
Just a rosebush.’ The old man sounded disdainful.

‘
A very large rosebush with lots of blooms,’ Sophie tried
again.

‘
They said it was dead. Near the back porch. Wanted it pulled
out. “Throw it away,” they said. But I wouldn’t do it.’ He shook
his head. ‘It wasn’t dead. I knew that. Could see it straight away.
It’d been tested with bad soil and poor light and still it
survived. So I moved it here.’

Sophie
turned to the little man, laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
‘You’re very special, aren’t you, Mr Solomon? You see more than
most people do; that’s a gift.’

He stepped towards the rosebush and stroked the petals of a
bloom with tender fingers. ‘People talk too much,’ he said, pulling
a face. ‘They miss all the things that aren’t said. They look at
all the signs but don’t
see
. They’re there though. You just
have to
look
.’

He took a
small pair of garden shears from his pocket, snipped off a rose and
handed it to her.

‘
I’ll dry it when it’s past its first bloom; as a reminder of a
very important lesson,’ Sophie said. ‘Thank you.’

She put
the magnificent yellow rose in a glass of water when she reached
the cottage, took her clothes off, pulled on a t-shirt and crawled
into bed, where she lay staring up at the ghost-white mosquito
net.

It served
her right, of course. It was the dose of reality she’d been waiting
for. She just hadn’t known how ice-cold the dousing would
be.

The image of Reuben with another woman felt like a knife
through her heart, but she pushed it aside with all the
self-preservation and stubbornness she could muster, because in
real life, love did
not
always conquer all. In fact, if you weren’t careful, and you
were disappointed often enough, it could make you bitter. Sophie
was determined that would never happen to her.

She was
not angry with Reuben. How could she be? He’d only ever been honest
with her. Her broken heart was her own doing. She had thought she
was more sophisticated than she really was. She’d fallen in love
with him and, hoping he too had feelings for her, she’d tried to
create a different reality.

But the
experience had taught her a few important lessons about herself.
She was not a woman suited to casual affairs. She would not make
that mistake again. She was a simple outdoor girl from the other
side of the world and she was utterly comfortable with that. In
fact, now that she held up her own life and compared it with
Reuben’s, she couldn’t figure out what she’d been thinking. The
idea of a deep and lasting relationship with business tycoon,
Reuben Manning, was laughable. She felt a little embarrassed if
truth be told. It was time she grew up.

Sophie
turned her head, catching sight of the rose in the glass on the
bedside table. It stood out pale in the moonlight and she could
smell its sweet perfume. Tears squeezed out of the corners of her
eyes. A broken heart was a broken heart, but tomorrow she would
start to put the pieces back together again.

Chapter
Ten

Two weeks later, Sophie was in the hut near the
boma
, chatting to a group
of fourteen-year-olds about long-term
veld
and game management programmes,
when Reuben walked in with Isaac beside him.

She had
put so much effort into clearing him from her mind that for a split
second she didn’t believe her eyes. Too many times he’d stepped
into her dreams uninvited, or she would think she heard his
footsteps, or his laughter on the path around the corner. Each time
this happened she would discipline her mind to think of other
things.

Now he
stood at the back of the room in chinos and a loose-fitting shirt.
His dark, wavy hair was shorter, skin a little paler, but the navy
blue eyes were exactly as she remembered them and they were fixed
on her.

Sophie’s
skin tingled, and the tiny hairs that stood up on her arms told her
this was not a dream. There had been no time to prepare for this
meeting. A week ago, Sara had been telephoned by a secretary who
told her he would be delayed for at least another few weeks. Sophie
had wondered if he’d ever return. The thought had left her
desolate, but part of her had seen it as a way out—the decision of
where they should go from here taken out of her hands.

Sophie faltered in her description of the particular
characteristics of
renosterveld
and the children turned to follow her gaze. There
was no smile from Reuben, no look of meaningful reunion.

Swallowing, she took a deep breath and continued her talk.
Moments later, when she dared to look his way again, his arms were
folded across his chest and he seemed to want to look anywhere but
at her.

Usually
she loved sharing her passion for plants and animals with
children—it was a talk similar to this that had kindled her own
passion for wildlife as a child—but today was an ordeal and every
sentence seemed to drag out, her eyes continuously sliding towards
him.

At that
moment, Isaac was pointing to one of the posters on the wall, but
Reuben’s body language said it all—he was half-turned towards the
door, itching to get out, away from her.

Sophie
forced steadiness and strength into her voice. Ignored the way her
legs wobbled and her stomach churned. What she held onto in that
moment was love of her job, and her pride. She looked at the faces
turned up to her. Forced a smile onto her lips, animation into her
voice. No matter how hard, she would keep doing her job and would
never let Reuben see that he had broken her heart.

He had
told himself he was leaving England early because he wanted to be
at Labour’s End when the first consignment of animals arrived. But
then he’d never been very good at deluding himself.

In
reality he was rushing back to Sophie. She was almost all he’d been
able to think about since he’d left. He had thought he’d step
effortlessly back into life in London. Pick up where he’d left off.
The trip to Africa was meant to have been nothing more than the
viewing of an asset he could use as a possible retreat if the place
agreed with him.

But the
penthouse apartment in London had seemed empty no matter how many
lights he turned on, and it seemed strange that he would long for a
verandah that faced the sunset over a Cape Town mountain
range.

In
meetings he would find himself staring out of a window, or realise
he’d been looking at a particular page of a document for long
moments without seeing whatever pressing business demanded his
attention.

It was Sophie he saw. Sophie laughing, large green eyes
arresting, like a splash of green against the gold of the
bushveld
. Or her mouth,
full lips parted as he stroked long golden limbs. He would wake in
the darkness, convinced he could feel her beside him, hear her
breathe.

He was a
mess and he was not pleased about it. He still saw no way of
bringing Sophie’s world and his together. He simply had to be more
disciplined, so he’d put in an extra hour in the gym after he left
the office. He accepted invitations and attended functions. Sophie
was like a virus that had somehow got into his system, and if he
worked hard enough, he could get her out again.

Still his
desire for her persisted, so he’d decided to return to ground zero
to rid himself of this obsession once and for all, or succumb to
its madness. In fact, Reuben wondered how important Sophie herself
was in the bigger scheme of things. He had for some time felt a
vague dissatisfaction with life, which could have prompted the
sudden urge to buy an African game farm. Had an exotic
copper-haired beauty become the excuse to escape for a time from
boardrooms, endless meetings and cocktail parties?

He had
built her up in his mind in recent weeks, but he was sure the young
woman would not stand up to the image when he laid eyes on her
again.

He had
arrived at the house, resolute that he would not look for her, or
strain for the sound of her voice. He had stripped off his business
suit, taken a shower, talked with Rolf and Sara. Even though it was
Sophie he wanted to find; test his theory about the woman and the
image in his head.

He’d
eventually found Isaac in the storeroom. Sophie was giving a talk
to the second school group they’d had that week. Yes, of course he
wanted to see her in action, Reuben had told Isaac.

Why did
his heart beat the way it did when he approached the hut? At first
she did not see him silhouetted against the bright doorway. He
heard her voice—his eyes taking a minute to adjust to the light—and
there was laughter in it, a lilting pleasure she took in speaking
of her passion. A dozen images came rushing back at him: hoarse
whispers as she wrapped long legs around his hips, encouraging him
to pleasure her more deeply; her breath hot bursts against his
skin.

Arousal
hit him like the blast of a furnace. He had worn a loose shirt. It
was just as well, because he burned for her, hot and
rigid.

She was
far more than his wildest imaginings, and his response to her had
nothing to do with rationality and intellect. He realised now why
he’d broken all his own rules, and hurled himself into bed with a
very young employee. For all his money and all his power, he was
helpless, unable to function around her in any logical way, and he
had no idea why. It had been a mistake to come back. Why hadn’t he
simply stayed away? It now seemed like the only sensible and sane
thing to have done. But it was too late now.

Sophie
had looked shocked to see him. He searched her face for a smile, a
lighting up of the eyes, but there was none.

Mark had
told him of his talk with Sophie, of Clarice’s warning to her, and
then there’d been the incident with McTavish. Had Sophie decided
that Reuben Manning came with too much baggage? She was young; was
all this complication beyond her?

He tried
to concentrate, half-turning away from her, as Isaac explained a
poster on the wall, but Reuben heard little of what he said. How
could he, with Sophie’s voice filling his head? Could he let go of
her now? He didn’t think he was ready yet, but he needed time to
figure out his next move.

As soon
as Isaac paused in his talk, Reuben thanked him and asked to be
taken back to the house. He left the hut, fighting the urge to look
back at her. Perhaps he’d turn and the smile would be there, the
welcome in her eyes. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, but she
had her back to him, pointing to something on a
chalkboard.

‘
Mr Manning wants to see you,’ Isaac said, when she pulled into
the garage. ‘And the generator people called. The message is on
your desk.’

‘
This afternoon they’re doing a house call,’ she told him. ‘I
want us to do a full power failure drill. Check the generator and
electric fencing. We’ll need to be ready from two.’

‘
All stations go,’ Isaac said, giving her the
thumbs-up.

The smile
slipped from Sophie’s face as soon as Isaac had gone. Reuben wanted
to see her. He had seemed so distant in the hut, impatient, almost
angry, and she hoped if he called her in now to tell her it was
over between them, that she would give nothing of her own emotions
away. She just needed a little time to tightly fasten her armour
about her before she went to the house.