A Sinful Seduction. Elizabeth Lane
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were usually short-lived affairs, with plenty of heat that burned out quickly. With all the time he devoted to J-COR and the foundation, he had little to spare for romantic entanglements. Brief, passionate flings were usually his preference—the sort of relationship shallow enough for every conflict to be solved by taking matters to bed. He had little experience comforting genuine distress, and his body shifted into default mode, wanting to solve the problem by replacing her troubled thoughts—and his own niggling guilt for causing her such distress—with ecstasy for them both.
The desire was there, smoldering where her hips rested against his, igniting the urge to sweep her upstairs to his luxury suite and ravish her till she moaned with pleasure. Maybe that was what the woman needed—a few weeks of rest, good food and good loving to restore her health and build her trust.
But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. It was comfort and support she needed now, not some big, horny jerk making moves on her.
Giving himself a mental slap, Cal shifted backward, easing the contact between them. She was calm now. Maybe too calm. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.
She exhaled, pushing away from him. “I’ll be fine. Sorry you had to see me like that. I feel like a fool.”
“No one’s blaming you. I’ve seen those camps. You’ve been through eleven months of hell.”
“But not like the people who have nowhere else to go. Seeing their children die, their women—”
“You can’t dwell on that, Megan.”
“I can’t forget it. That’s why I plan to go back as soon as I’m strong enough.”
“That’s insane. I could stop you, you know.”
“You could try. But if you do, I’ll find another way.”
The defiance in her gaze stunned him. Back in San Francisco, where he’d known her as a charming hostess and a lovely ornament, he would never have believed she could possess such an iron will. But her will looked to be all she had left. She was like a guttering candle, on the verge of burning out.
“You should go back and finish your dinner,” she said. “I’ve got my rain poncho. I can catch a matatu back to the clinic.”
“One of those rickety little buses? You’d end up walking for blocks, alone in the rain. I’ll take you.” Cal wouldn’t have minded inviting her upstairs for a hot bath and a chaste, restful night in his suite’s second bed—as a simple act of kindness. But she was certain to turn him down. And even if she accepted, he didn’t trust himself to behave. For all her devious ways, Megan was an alluring woman, made more so by her surprising strength and the unspoken challenge in her manner. The urge to bury himself between those slim, lovely legs might prove too much to resist.
But an idea had taken root in his thoughts—one so audacious that it surprised even him. First thing tomorrow he would make some calls. What he had in mind might be just the thing to restore her health and win her trust.
* * *
Minutes later Megan was huddled beside Cal in the cab’s backseat. The rain had stopped, but the night was chilly and the black blazer she’d worn to look presentable was too thin for warmth.
“You’re shivering.” Cal peeled off his Burberry coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, enfolding her in the heat and manly scent of his body. A thread of panic uncurled inside her. She willed it away.
“We’ve talked about me all evening,” she said, making conversation. “What’s new with you?”
“Nothing much, except that I’m here. The company’s doing fine. So is the foundation. I’ve hired a team of professionals to do the fund-raising. But they don’t have your elegant touch. I miss you and...Nick.”
Megan hadn’t missed the beat of hesitation before he spoke her late husband’s name. “That time seems like a hundred years ago,” she said, then tactfully changed the subject. “Any special lady in your life? As I recall, you always had plenty to choose from.”
“Having a special lady requires an investment in time. More time than I can spare.”
“Remind yourself of that when you’re a grumpy, lonely old man,” she teased. “You’re what? Forty?”
“Thirty-eight. Don’t make me out to be more decrepit than I already am.”
“Fine. But one of these days you’re going to look back and wish you’d had a family.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” he countered.
“Well, at least I tried.” She remembered telling him about the baby. Had Nick let him know she’d miscarried? Or had her statement made him think of her wedding day, when his best man’s toast had congratulated the two of them on the new family they were making together?
His answering silence told Megan she’d pushed the conversation onto painful ground. Cal had been as devastated as she was by Nick’s death. Devastated and angry—or at least, there had been anger on her part, when she’d learned about the embezzlement. Cal had seemed determined to find some way to clear Nick of any blame...which had meant shoving that blame on her, instead. Now, more than two years and half a world away, she was sitting beside him with his coat wrapped around her. It was as if they’d come full circle. She’d done everything in her power to put the past behind her and find peace. But it was no use. Being with Cal had brought it all back.
Three
Cal had offered Benjamin a cab ride back to Dr. Musa’s. The distance wasn’t far but by the time they arrived, jet lag from the long flight had caught up with him. He was nodding off every few minutes.
“Won’t you come in, sir?” the husky youth asked as he climbed out of the cab. “I can make you tea.”
“Another time, thank you. And give my best to the doctor. Tell him I’ll ring him up tomorrow.”
As the cab headed on to the hotel, splashing through the backstreet ruts, Cal reflected on his evening with Megan. Nothing had been as he’d expected. She was so fragile, and yet so powerfully seductive that he’d been caught off guard. It would have been all too easy to forget that the woman had either stolen or driven his best friend to steal millions from the foundation before killing himself, and that the money was still missing. In the days ahead he’d do well to remember that.
A few evenings out weren’t going to break down her resistance. He was going to need more time with her—a lot more time, in a setting calculated to put her at ease. A safari would be perfect—days exploring Africa’s beautiful wildlands, and the kind of pampered nights that a first-class safari company could provide.
Tomorrow he would put his scheme into action. First, as a courtesy, he would ask Dr. Musa’s permission to take Megan out of the clinic for a couple of weeks. If need be, he could fly in another volunteer to take her place. Arranging a photo safari on short notice shouldn’t be a problem. Business tended to slow during the rainy season. Most companies would be eager to accommodate a well-paying client.
Not until everything was in place would he let Megan in on his plan. She might argue. She might even dig in her heels and refuse to go along. But in the end she would go with him. If he had to knock her out and kidnap her, so help him, she would go.
Evenings were long and peaceful on safari, with little to do except eat, drink, rest and talk. As for the nights...But he would let nature take its course. If things went as planned, Megan would soon be stripped of any secrets she was hiding.
But first he wanted to cover all his bases. Tomorrow he would compose an email to Harlan Crandall. If the man was sharp enough to locate Megan, he might also be able to ferret out more details about the last months of Nick’s life. He might even be able to locate the missing money.
For now—Cal punctuated the thought with a tired yawn—all he wanted was to go back to the hotel, crawl between the sheets and sleep