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  It’s the last thing Matt wanted, too. He really should discourage Miranda more. Problem was…keeping the diamond aspect separate from his interest in her proved difficult. Underneath that excellent exterior of hers, she was tenacious and smart and could honestly help his investigation. Not something he could ignore.

  On the other hand, she could jeopardize his cover, blow everything sky-high, and he’d only have himself to blame. “I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Matt vowed. “You’ll be pleased to hear she’s all fired up about preserving Katanga from the bad guys. She’s determined not to let it suffer the consequences of greed.”

  “I like her already.” Nik polished off his lunch and stuffed the wrappings in the paper sack it came in. “Yet keep in mind those with passionate causes can do stupid things. Don’t let her pull anything rash.”

  “No worries, I’ve got it under control.” Yeah, famous last words. If only he were half as confident as he sounded, but he was fast coming to learn that where Miranda was concerned, his common sense fell short. And his plan for tonight only proved that fact.

  Matt stuffed the last bite of lunch in his mouth, then gathered up the trash to toss it in a nearby can. He brushed off his hands, reached into a pocket, and pulled out the list of delivery company names Miranda had provided. He handed it to Nik as he sat back down.

  “Process these and see what you come up with,” Matt said. “And while you’re at it, run a check on Victor Keyes and Warren Graham. I want everything you have on them.”

  Nik didn’t even glance at the list, just tucked it safely into his shirt pocket.

  Matt checked his watch and lightly cursed. Lunch hour was almost up. Man, punching a time clock was hell. “So, how about that name?”

  “Funny thing about that,” Nik said. “The mansion’s owner is Andrew Weston.”

  Weston? Matt whistled between his teeth. “Now, what do you suppose the Under Secretary of Trade and Industry wants with Warren Graham?”

  “That’s what you will find out,” Nik declared. “Especially since Weston is instrumental in organizing Gaborone’s diamond council. This year’s event is over the top since the implementation of the Kimberley Process. Hundred-thousand-dollar down payments on the eve of a global event stirs an ache in my old bones. I don’t like it.”

  Matt heartily agreed. “Call me as soon as you have info on those names. Right now I’ve got to get back to washing windows.”

  * * * *

  Matt lurked outside the veterinary clinic, chastising himself for not approaching Miranda earlier today. If he were a sane man, he would’ve just asked her to join him at an African wedding that evening. It wasn’t like it was a date. He needed to know the person he was partnering with. That was all. So why was it so bloody difficult to ask her?

  He checked his watch for the twelfth time in the last ten minutes. How late did she plan on working? The wedding feast began in less than an hour. The bonfire started at dusk. He couldn’t wait much longer.

  In fact, he’d waited long enough.

  Matt twisted the rearview mirror his way and raked a hand through his unruly hair, then rolled the tension out of his shoulders before climbing out of the Land Rover. His feet barely hit the ground when the clinic door opened and Miranda and Jason exited.

  She caught sight of him, and a frown settled on her brow. She was no doubt wondering about the nightly stakeout. Well, not tonight. He had other plans.

  “Dude, you working late?” Jason tapped knuckles with Matt in the new “modern” handshake of his. Personally, Matt didn’t see anything wrong with the old way.

  “I’m done for the day,” he replied. “What are you two still doing here?”

  “Paperwork.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Miss Workaholic won’t knock off early to sightsee. No sir, not her.”

  “It’s barely seven,” Miranda huffed. She turned a pointed look in Matt’s direction. “Kind of late for you to be lurking about, isn’t it?”

  “Not if you’re looking for a date.”

  She arched a nicely shaped brow and glanced around. “Did you find one?”

  “Depends.” He folded his arms and leaned back against his Rover. “What are you doing tonight?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you asking me out?”

  Figured she wouldn’t make this easy on him. “If I am, would you say yes?”

  “Depends. If you have to go hunting for a date, whatever you’ve got planned must be a real thrill. What’s up?”

  “A friend’s daughter recently married and tonight’s the traditional feast. Interested?”

  She chewed on her lower lip for a second, making him wait until he began regretting his impulse.

  “How much time do I have to get ready?” she finally asked.

  “None. We have to leave now.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  He shook his head.

  “No way,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere in this.” She swept a hand down a perfectly decent looking tank top, shorts, and leather shoes.

  “Believe me, where we’re going, that’s perfectly fine.”

  “Oh, no it isn’t. I need to change at the lodge.”

  He glanced at his watch again. “We’ll be late.”

  “Hello, people.” Jason waved at them both. “Remember me? The third wheel?”

  Damn. He’d forgotten Jason. “Don’t tell me you need to change clothes, too?” Matt asked.

  “Me? Attend a wedding dinner?” Jason lifted his hands in a negative wave. “No, thanks. I’m pretty sure Tavi at the lodge is cooking up something just shy of heaven. I’ll spend my evening sparring with Kampo over her culinary delights.”

  The night was definitely shaping up. Matt looked back at Miranda. “Well?”

  “Ten minutes,” she demanded. “I have to change.”

  He knew a losing battle when he saw one. With a nod of agreement he opened the Rover door. “Hop in. We’ll have to hurry.”

  Chapter 13

  Twenty minutes later, Matt paced the living room floor in Miranda’s cabin. “Aren’t you ready yet?” he called out to the bedroom door.

  No answer.

  “Miranda!” he shouted.

  The door swung open and Matt stopped breathing.

  Gone was the khaki-wearing zoo dentist, and in her place stood a woman of soft and sexy curves, the kind that could fill a man’s dreams for years. More than that, she was every fantasy he ever had all wrapped up in rosy lip gloss, warm glowing skin, and a sleeveless print shirt with a soft ruffle that drew the eye temptingly downward. She wore a long flowing skirt and sandals that revealed little pink toenails, but his eyes roamed back up to her modest display of cleavage.

  A crazy ripple of heat shot straight to his groin. Every time he saw her, his attraction grew.

  She did a little twirl in the doorway and her dark hair, for once free of the ponytail, swung loose past her shoulders. “Well? It’s the best I could do with only ten minutes.”

  He snapped his jaw closed. “It’s been almost twenty and you look…fine.”

  That was a serious understatement. He’d never seen anyone look so…fine…in his entire life. He’d known plenty of beautiful women, even dated a few, but this was new territory. Miranda upset his balance. Hell, it was next to gone, and he was at a loss over how to deal with it.

  “We’re late,” he said a bit gruffly, “let’s go.”

  A finely arched brow lifted in what was beginning to be a familiar way, and she grabbed a purse so tiny he wondered at the point of carrying it.

  “I declare, Matthew.” Her lashes fluttered as she breezed past him toward the front door. “You do know how to flatter a woman.”

  Her soft floral scent lingered in the air as she preceded him out the door, and he breathed deep the enticing aroma. Miranda in khaki was tempting in the extreme; this vision was pushing buttons all over the place. She pranced through the garden with softly swaying hips
, beckoning, driving him past crazy. The urge to turn them around and head right back to her room consumed him. It took no effort at all to imagine her naked, moaning with desire beneath him, and his body instantly responded. If he didn’t get a grip on his control, and quick, the zoo-dentist-turned-siren would completely upend him. He was more than halfway there already.

  He opened the car door for her, then rounded the back and climbed inside the driver’s seat.

  “Hang on.” Matt shifted into reverse and wheeled sharply around. “Katomi will be unhappy if I’m late.” He burst onto the highway headed north, skirting the downtown business district and picking up the quickest route to Molepolole.

  “Who is Katomi?”

  “He is Kgosi, Chief of his Bakwena tribe and a long-time friend.”

  She stared out the window at the passing cityscape. “It’s his daughter’s wedding?”

  “Yes.” He accelerated around a rusted and sputtering pickup. “Zuli is nineteen and well past marriageable age. Katomi thought she’d never find a warrior to suit her taste.”

  Miranda’s laugh began to sooth his frayed nerves. He was making headway in bringing his world back into focus.

  “It seems families are not so different,” she said, “no matter where you come from.”

  “Maybe. But if you expect a traditional wedding tonight, you’re in for a surprise.”

  “Oooh.” Her fingers fluttered in that tempting piece of ruffle on her chest. “I do love surprises!”

  He didn’t understand why. He hated that off-kilter feeling that came with them. He had it often enough in his line of work, but good bluffing skills and a custom 9mm helped. Miranda, on the other hand, was a vastly different sort of surprise and required another set of skills. When it came to romance, he was as rusty as the pickup they’d just passed.

  “Ever seen an African tribal wedding?” He zipped across the Ngotwane River and made a left onto Motsete Highway.

  “On the Discovery Channel,” she answered. “Will I tonight?”

  Even in the gathering dusk he could see that ever-present curiosity of hers. “If we get there in time.”

  Matt downshifted and made a quick jog onto Molepolole Road and headed northwest. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and he pushed the Rover as fast as road conditions allowed. Which wasn’t near fast enough, but jarring teeth didn’t make for a good date.

  Not that he’d classify this as a date. But hell, it wasn’t an interrogation either.

  “Did you find out who owned the mansion today?”

  Damn. So much for hoping she’d forgotten that. “I’m still working on it.”

  “No you aren’t,” she scoffed. “You just don’t want to tell me.”

  “That’s right,” he admitted. “And you know why? Because this is a dangerous game and the people involved don’t play nice. Let it go.”

  “It’s too late for that and you know it.”

  He sighed theatrically. “Please, Miranda. I get precious little time off. Let’s enjoy an evening free of investigations and intrigue. Just for tonight.”

  He could see she didn’t like it one bit, but playing on her sympathy worked like a charm. She let it go, and they made the rest of the drive in relative peace.

  Twilight blanketed the open sky by the time they pulled onto the dirt-packed road that led to Katomi’s small but thriving village. Central clapboard buildings and outer huts of mud and thatch hadn’t changed much since the days of Matt’s youth. Village life continued the way it had for generations. But traces of modern life were creeping in.

  Matt pulled up alongside a cattle corral he helped build two years ago and parked. An orange glow lit up the darkening sky behind the huts, the bonfire signaling the beginning of Zuli’s wedding. They were right on time.

  The village appeared deserted, but drums sounded a distant and steady beat. “Where is everyone?” Miranda asked as she climbed out of the vehicle.

  He rounded to the back of the Rover and opened the hatch. “A dry lakebed about a hundred yards out. It marks the edge of the Kalahari and serves all ceremonial events. Based on those drums, it’s about to begin.” Matt lifted out a couple of fat chunks of wood and closed the back hatch.

  “What are those for?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He’d tell her after she’d downed a shot or two of courage. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Leading the way, they wove through the village at a fast pace. The evening was warm, but not uncomfortably so, and she kept up without a word of complaint. As they rounded the last hut and set out across a well-worn path, the sound of chanting voices began to blend with drums.

  A bittersweet sense of nostalgia washed over Matt.

  The scene unfolding before them was as familiar to him as life in the city. A central bonfire crackled and popped, lighting the faces of Bakwena men and women in ceremonial face paint. They ringed the fire, the women adorned in colorful scarves and countless necklaces of stone and feathers. The men sported grass skirts and bare feet, some brandishing a carving of their symbolic totem, the alligator. They danced in rhythm with the drums, arms lifted to the waxing three quarter moon, chanting the blessings of their ancestors.

  “Amazing!” Miranda cried.

  A high-pitched, undulating yell filled the night, and even he had to admit it was a scene straight out of National Geographic. A warrior faced the bonfire in full ceremonial gear. Circles of dried grass looped about his waist, ankles, and wrists, and a headdress of shell and bone scraped his shoulders as he lifted a spear to the sky.

  “Who is that?” Miranda asked.

  “Father of the bride.”

  Katomi spun back to the crowd and flashed a smile of welcome straight at Matt. After a quick salute, Matt escorted Miranda over to join the throng.

  Singsong chanting began again, and the circle started moving. Stomping feet and clapping hands, their voices rose with words of love, fidelity, life, and family. They rounded the mass of people to the far end for a better view, and Matt dropped the wood at their feet.

  “Which one is the bride?” Miranda asked.

  He pointed back toward town. “She’s on her way. Her mother and sisters escort her to the fire for the handfasting.”

  “This is so incredible.” Miranda’s smile warmed his insides. “I can’t tell you how excited I am.”

  Yeah, him too, though more from the prospect of tasting those enticing lips of hers.

  The warm Kalahari night surrounded them, and he stepped up close behind her, settling his hands on her shoulders to knead soft muscle with his thumbs. A blazing inferno served as a backdrop for Katomi’s ceremonial dance, drums pounding out tradition. And all he could think about doing was reaching down to taste the nape of her neck.

  When the bride arrived, he seized an opportunity to lean close and whisper in her ear. “That’s Zuli, the bride.”

  She was dressed in a wraparound sari of rich browns and vibrant reds, a tall headscarf that denoted noble lineage, and adorned with beaded necklaces and big loop earrings that glinted in the firelight. She glowed with the radiance of a woman in love as she stood waiting for her father’s approval of her groom. Matt whispered as much to Miranda.

  The chief performed a final circle of the bonfire, tossing his spear from hand to hand. It had bits of bone and shell that dangled from braided grass rope, and they rattled to the escalating drumbeat. Then, as the rhythm grew to a breaking point, Katomi grasped his spear with a high-pitched yell, lifted it high over his head, then sank the tip into the desert sands.

  The drums silenced. The fire snapped and crackled. Then softly, a singsong voice drifted their way. It grew stronger as the tribal shaman rounded the fire and came to a halt by the sunken spear.

  The bride and groom joined him, bowed their respect to the symbolic spear, and the ceremony began.

  The shaman sang loud, reaching for the heavens and shaking pebble-filled gourds that rattled with a hollow sound. His voice
rang with ceremonial reverence as he crisscrossed down the groom’s torso, following the twisted straps of his wedding regalia. He did the same for the bride, all while chanting in his singsong way.

  “What’s he saying?” Miranda leaned back and whispered.

  Matt’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her backside flush against him. He whispered in her ear. “He sings of long life, fertility, and joy in the couple’s physical union.”

  She fingered the ruffle and glanced up with skepticism.

  “Hold on, here comes the climax,” he whispered wickedly.

  “Stop it!” A suppressed smile belied the forceful whisper.

  The shaman’s chant trailed off, and he took a final step backward. A hushed expectancy built in the observers as he bent low at the waist and hovered. A second passed, then two. Then, with a low cry, the shaman rose until his arms extended above his head, a long braided grass rope stretched between his hands.

  The cry turned into a deep-throated yell. With the speed of light, he brought the rope down to weave between the wrists of Zuli and Bakka.

  Handfasted, the couple lifted their joined wrists to the sky amid robust cheers. Drums began beating again, and Miranda let out a good old-fashioned whoop of joy. She turned in Matt’s grasp, smiling up at him with eyes that sparkled.

  Matt smiled back at her, feeling lighter and happier than he’d had in years. He pulled her into a celebratory hug and spun them in a circle. Her laughter washed over him like cool water on a hot day, and he closed his eyes, soaking in the sensation, breathing deep the alluring scent of her perfume.

  “This one good medicine for my Matthew.”

  Matt’s eyes flew open. Katomi stood beside them, grinning like the village idiot.

  “Like my Zuli, you wait for mate of your heart. Proud for you, my young friend.”

  “Not so fast, Chief.” Matt released Miranda, but held her close with an arm casually about her shoulders. “Meet Dr. Miranda Parrish, an animal dentist from America.”