Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

“When given the resources, most people, if willing, can make a good living.”

When she looks back at me, there’s a curious light in her eyes. “It’s a huge investment.”

I shrug. “As I said, they helped me build the land back up.”

That inquisitive light in her baby-blues changes to something like hope. “That’s why you need so much money. You’re using it to rebuild a community.”

What she can never forget is that I’m not a good guy. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of Robin Hood. I steal for me, not for them.”

Her face falls. Point achieved. Hope crushed. She better get that through her head. I’m bad to my core.

I leave her to her disappointment to go check on the loose panel. By the time I’ve fixed it, her shadow falls over me.

“What else do you do with your money except for saving people and animals?” she asks.

Nice try, but the label she tries to pin on me doesn’t fit. “I’m not a savior.”

She kicks at a stone. “From where I’m standing, it pretty much looks that way.”

I straighten and stare down at her. “Then you’re either blind or standing on the wrong side.”

Her mouth tightens.

I don’t want to fight with her or disillusion her further. Cupping her jaw, I say, “Shall we head back for breakfast?” I check my watch. It’s close to seven already. “You must be hungry.”

She bites her lip, which makes me want to sink my teeth into the plump bottom one. If I look at her for a second longer, I’ll forsake breakfast and fuck her right here in the field.

Turning on my heel, I head back to the Jeep. On my silent cue, she follows. I like her obedience, but I like it even more when she challenges me. I like to wrestle with her, whether it’s with words or our bodies, and I especially like that she’s no longer acting afraid of me.

Chapter 6

Cas

When we get back to Ian’s bungalow, the room is tidy and breakfast is waiting on the deck table under the cone-shaped lids.

“Why don’t the monkeys just take off the lids?” I ask Ian after we’ve washed up and he seats me at the table.

He pulls up a shoulder. “They’re scared of the cones for some reason.”

“How did you figure that out?”

“I didn’t.” He pours me a cup of coffee. “It’s a habit the locals have practiced for generations.”

“How many people are living here?”

“Only Shona and Banga live here in the bungalows, but there must be around three hundred people in the village.”

“Banga?”

“The guy you probably saw in the office. He’s my CFO, for a lack of a better word.”

In other words, Banga is the one who cooks the books. I suppose Ian is trying to make everything look as legal as possible for the sake of the community. “How often do you visit here?”

He smiles as if my questions amuse him. “As often as I can.”

I fold my palms around the cup and let the warmth seep into my skin. “What about when you’re not here?”

“What about it?” he asks, putting slices of cheese and a hard-boiled egg onto my plate.

“Where do we go?”

He stills with his hand mid-way in the air. It’s only minutely before he takes the pot of honey. He doesn’t look at me when he replies. “You stay here.”

My heart slows a beat before quickening with anger. “Forever?”

His answer is flat. “Yes.”

My jaw drops. He must be joking. The lodge is paradise, but I can’t stay in this room for the rest of my life.

Regarding me from under his lashes, he says in an even tone, “Eat.”

Too angry, I’m no longer hungry.

He watches me, measuring me, as he bites into a bread roll. “We’ll go to town after breakfast to fit you out.”

“Fit me out?”

He reaches for the sugar like he hasn’t noticed how furious I am with the helpless anger twisting me up inside. I don’t know what I expected, maybe too much after the intense way he took me last night. Maybe I’ve read too much into the sex. He warned me not to harbor silly hopes, yet my heart has gone and done that anyway.

“Not hungry?” he asks, looking at my untouched food.

“No,” I say rudely.

He finishes off the last bite on his plate and pushes to his feet. “In that case, let’s go.”

Spitefulness makes me want to reject his offer to fit me out, but I can’t deny the fact that I need clothes or turn down an opportunity to visit the town. I need as much information as I can get, because information is power. Will the town be the same as I remember it? It has been eight years since I’ve been in Vic Falls. I was sixteen when my parents brought me here.

He drives us back to the main building where he goes in search of Shona. He finds her in the reception hall, polishing the furniture.