Page 9 of The Rival in South Africa
“Nikki?”
Alex was watching me, and I released my lower lip from between my teeth.
Our Jeep slowed, and Riaan stuck his arm out the window and pointed out to the left where a small lake was coming into view. “Hippos.”
“What, really?” Alex leaned toward me to get a better view. As we came to a stop, I could make out that what I had thought were wet rocks were actually hippos. They lazed about on the banks, occasionally flicking their tails or ears. White birds dotted the mud and hippo flanks, and Riaan explained they were eating bugs and pests from the hippos’ skin.
When I turned back, Alex’s face was right in front of me. His eyes were wide, a grin crinkling his eyes and cheeks. I’d always liked the way his lips looked: rather thin, with delicate skin.
His eyes flicked to me and then back out the window. I turned my attention back to the hippos. “Most dangerous animals in Africa, I understand,” I said.
“Yes,” Riaan confirmed. “They are aggressive and cause too many road accidents. They are tanks.”
When we’d had our fill, Riaan sped back up again. “Don’t worry, you’ll see plenty more,” he assured us.
A few minutes later, he slowed again. Alex and I both leaned toward the center of the car, peering through the windshield. Ahead of us, stock-still on the road, stood a rather large hoofed animal. The coat was a glossy grey over rippling muscles, but the eyes were drawn to massive, spiraling horns. As we slowed, the beast—a kudu, Riaan said—leapt gracefully over the fence on the right side of the road, easily over two meters high.
Alex nudged my shoulder with his. Our eyes met as Riaan sped back up.
“I know you aren’t keen on having me here.”
“That’s…I…” I floundered.
“Regardless, thank you for allowing me to come along.” He wiped the palms of his hands against his thighs. “I know I haven’t said thank you yet. But sincerely. Thank you.”
My mouth hung open as Alex turned back to look outside the window. When was the last time Alex had thanked me for anything?
His honesty also made me realize that regardless of how the job went, I was here for the experience too. I needed to appreciate this opportunity that I had been given.
Riaan pointed through the treetops to a herd of giraffes off in the distance. Thoughts of my job disappeared, and I laughed when Alex imitated a giraffe’s tongue. The flutter of excitement grew stronger with every kilometer we drove. This was Africa, and I couldn’t wait to see it.
* * *
“So, there’s only one bed?”Alex asked, peering around our tent.
To be fair, it was a huge bed. And the tent itself could hardly be called a tent. The bed was the focal piece, a king-sized, four-poster monstrosity with mosquito netting tied back with straps of canvas. The floor was concrete, the roof of the tent canvas with gossamer walls hanging down on all four sides. A light breeze blew in, and the curtains swayed. We had a small couch, a desk, and some upholstered chairs. At the foot of the bed sat a massive travel trunk for us to store our belongings to keep them out of the hands of the local troublemakers—monkeys.
“Only one bed. Did your mother not tell you that?” I asked innocently.
“You knew?”
I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I did, and I still agreed, out of the kindness of my heart, to allow you to join me anyway.”
“As in, your mum got to you.”
“Of course she did.”
Alex looked at the couch. Actually, one could hardly call it a couch. It was more of a loveseat. He looked back at me.
“This is my trip,” I said primly.
“I will definitely not fit on this couch.”
I crossed my arms, shifting my hips to lean against the couch in question. “Neither will I.”
Alex took a few steps towards the front of the tent, the sunlight streaming in and highlighting motes of dust in the early afternoon light and backlighting him. “I’ll ask them if they have another tent available.”
“They don’t.” His eyebrow raised further, and I weighed my choices. How much should I tell him? “This is a soft opening. Not all of the tents are finished, and I do happen to know all the tents that are done are full.”
