Four Relentless Days. Elle James
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first and make sure we don’t have a cobra waiting in our bed.”
Buck shuddered. “I can’t imagine what Big Jake must have felt seeing that snake.”
“I would have blown the bed and half the room away trying to kill that cobra,” T-Mac said.
“Because you’re a lousy shot.” Diesel draped an arm over T-Mac’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you clear your cabin so you can sleep without fear of being snake bit. And so you don’t feel the need to put holes in the furniture or walls.”
“Thanks, dude,” T-Mac said with a twisted grin. “You’re a real friend.”
“I’ve got your six, man,” Diesel said.
The two men left the kitchen, followed by Buck and Angela and Marly and Pitbull.
Though they poked and prodded each other, they seemed to be a tight-knit team, willing to do anything for each other.
Eventually, Talia was alone. She cleaned the dishes, dried them and put them away. She knew she was procrastinating, avoiding going to bed. Many nights she’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, finally falling asleep in one of the lounge chairs in the common area rather than going up to the room she’d shared with Michael.
A few months after Michael’s death, she’d moved her things out of their room and into a smaller room to open up the master suite to guests. She’d told herself it was because she could charge a premium for the larger room. The reality was she didn’t want to sleep in the room she had shared with Michael. Too many memories kept her awake at night.
But tonight, she wasn’t awake because of her memories of Michael. She didn’t want to walk past the room Harm was sleeping in to get to hers. The thought of only a wall standing between them as they lay in their beds seemed too personal. None of her other guests had that effect on her. Why would Harm?
She wrapped her arms around her middle and walked into the common area. Maybe she’d sleep in one of the lounge chairs. She always woke before her guests. In that case, she could be up and dressed for the day well before they came down for breakfast.
Talia sat on one of the long sofas and tucked her legs beneath her.
Wide-awake and wired, sleep wasn’t going to come to her at once. The cobra, the poachers and other happenings were getting too close for comfort. Something had to give. Her chef had suggested she hire the local witch doctor to lift the evil spell from the walls, floors and grounds. She hadn’t been keen on doing that.
First of all, Talia didn’t believe in magic, but the people who worked for her did. Second, the witch doctor could be the one behind all of the shenanigans. He could be setting her up for extortion.
However, if things didn’t improve soon, her staff would stop coming to work. She’d have to run the place by herself. She could do it during the slow season, but not when the lodge and all the cabins were full. Someone had to lead the safaris while another person cooked enough to feed the guests, tended to the cabins and maintained the grounds.
No, she couldn’t do all those tasks alone. If her staff quit coming to work, she’d have to take fewer and fewer guests. If she couldn’t bring in guests, she couldn’t pay the bills. She’d be forced to close.
Then what? After Michael was killed by a rhino, she’d automatically assumed she’d continue on with the operation of the resort. Yes, it had been primarily Michael’s dream, but while he was alive, she’d shared that dream. After his death, she’d been in such a funk, she couldn’t bring herself to consider other options. Michael was buried in Africa. She hadn’t wanted to leave.
This place, the lodge, the resort, the savanna, had memories seared into every corner, every tree, everywhere she looked.
Yet her thoughts continued to drift up the stairs to the man in the room beside hers. Guilt rushed over her like a heat wave. Only a year had passed since Michael’s death. She shouldn’t be feeling anything for anyone other than her husband. Should she?
Talia reached for one of the throw pillows on the cushion beside her and hugged it to her chest. She missed being able to hug someone. Not just a friendly hug, but one that involved body-to-body contact. A real, warm, lasting hug she never wanted to end.
Not like holding a pillow. A pillow couldn’t return the sentiment. Someone with thick, strong arms was needed to make that connection. Someone who could return the pressure and make her feel safe and loved. And not so very...alone.
“Why are you sitting down here all alone?” a deep resonant voice asked.
Talia started and glanced up into the warm, deep brown eyes of the man she’d been thinking about.
He wore jeans and a well-worn T-shirt stretched tautly over the broad expanse of his chest. And he was barefoot.
Talia fought the urge to drool like Pavlov’s dog. “I...uh...” She gulped hard to keep from squeaking. “...wasn’t sleepy.”
“Too much excitement?” He nodded toward the cushion beside her. “Mind if I sit?”
Excitement? Oh, yeah. She pretended a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Please. Sit where you like.” Inside she fought a losing battle between self-preservation and desire. If he accepted her offer to take the seat beside her on the sofa, self-preservation didn’t stand a chance.
Harm dropped onto the cushion inches away from Talia.
Her breath caught and her pulse kicked into high gear.
Sitting half facing her, Harm leaned his elbows on his knees. “The snake in Big Jake’s cabin worrying you?”
“For a start,” she admitted. No use telling him she was also worried by her feelings for him. He didn’t need to know that little bit of information. If she thought witchcraft and bad juju were making her vulnerable, letting a man know he made her weak in the knees would expose her in a way she was nowhere near ready to handle.
Talia prayed he didn’t try anything silly, like kissing her. She wasn’t sure she had the power to resist.
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