Sweet Peril

He kept his eyes on his clasped fingers, nodding his head as he answered. “The spread of disease among populations. Primarily HIV and AIDS.”

Anytime I could get Kope to open up felt like a small success.

“Do you miss Malawi?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s it like there?”

He paused and tilted his head, face serious. “Everyone lives in huts with no electricity.”

“Oh,” I said, frowning. A dimpled grin spread across his smooth face and I gasped. “You’re messing with me!”

I was so delighted by his teasing that I reached out and gave his upper arm a little smack, before remembering myself. I wrapped my arms around my leg and held tight. Kopano gave a small laugh, finally meeting my eyes.

“That is what everyone thinks about Africa,” he said. “And it is like that in some parts, but we also have large cities, same as America.” While he was talking, his hand reached up and touched the spot on his arm where I’d hit him.

“What do you miss most about it?” I asked.

He leaned in against the armrest and his demeanor took on a dreamy reverence.

“The waters of Lake Malawi are like crystal.” The name of his country sounded magical on his lips. “Wild animals and birds everywhere. I miss the nights with no artificial light to dim the stars. But mostly I miss the sense of community among the people. There is much that can be improved among the leadership, but the people are kind. They respect the land and one another.”

I watched as he reined in his passion. We’d both leaned in, trying to keep our conversation hushed.

There’d always been something commanding about Kopano’s presence. Seeing him worked up showed a man willing to battle injustices firsthand. He could go head-to-head with the men who’d been led to their downfalls by his own father. My admiration deepened. I glanced at his book about diseases.

“Is AIDS really bad there?” I probably sounded ignorant, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He rubbed a hand across his brow, which now bore a deep crease. “One in fourteen people. Orphanages are overrun. It’s not acceptable.”

One in fourteen people. That would be one or two people in each of my classes at school. No wonder the subject made him so distraught. Seeing his love and concern, I reached my hand out and took his. He shifted in his seat and his back straightened. I waited while he yielded to the feel of my touch and seemed to relax. I wanted to be a friend to him—to be able to comfort him. I hoped he could accept it for what it was.

He turned our wrists so that my hand was on top and he could look at it. My skin was pale against his. With his other hand he ran a finger over the small rifts and valleys of my knuckles, looking at my skin as if it held some universal truth. As he lavished attention on my fingers, the gesture of friendship I’d offered somehow morphed. He raised his hazel eyes to mine. Differing feelings flashed through me. Not wanting to send mixed signals, I gave him a smile and slipped my hand from his. I gripped the armrest, still feeling his pleasant touch on my skin.

The flight attendants were pulling the beverage cart to our row. One of the attendants, a pretty, dark-skinned woman with red lipstick, gave Kope the once-over before taking my drink order. It was weird to see someone check him out like that. She poured me a cup of ice water and leaned over Kope to give it to me. Her aura reddened as her hip lingered against his arm. He discreetly turned his head, avoiding a face full of feminine curves. I bit my lip against a smile.

“Thank you,” I told her.

She gave one last, hopeful glance in his direction before pushing the cart to the next row. Kope’s head leaned back and his chest released a long, quiet breath. Poor guy. Must have been hard to be celibate, charming, and good-looking.

Landing in London affected me more than I’d expected. Passing guys with their English accents had my head spinning, eyes looking, heart squeezing and sputtering. I didn’t want to think of Kaidan. It hurt too much. But everything here was infused with him. I envisioned him walking the crowded sidewalks and entering a pub with band friends as we came to our hotel for check-in.

We left our suitcases in the rooms and immediately set off for the twins’ flat. Kope and I descended in silence into the Tube for our train.

“You are quiet,” Kope noted when we got off at our stop.

I forced a smile. “Just soaking it all in.”

When we neared the twins’ flat, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Marna.

“Hallooo?” she sang.

“Hello, yourself,” I responded. “I have a surprise for you. Kope and I are here for a visit.”

I pulled the phone from my ear when she screamed with glee and shouted to Ginger, which got a light chuckle from Kope.

“Seriously? You’re really here? I can’t believe it! Well, hurry on, then! But don’t take the lift—it’s terribly slow.” She gave one last excited scream before hanging up.

At their building we took the stairs to the second floor and rang their bell. When we made it in, Marna’s hug sent her and me both sprawling on the floor of their flat.

“Oh, pull it together, the two of you.” Ginger shut the door and gave Kope a quick hug before nudging Marna with her foot and muttering, “I suppose I’ll make some tea.”

Ginger shot me a mean look before going in the kitchen and I wondered if things would always be like that between us.

We got up from the floor and Marna hugged Kope around his waist. She looked as fresh and gorgeous as always with her big gray eyes, layered brown waves, and stylish clothes. Who wore dress slacks and strappy heels in the comfort of their own home? Only the twins.