Harry Boyle’s mind was on other things as he dodged through the crowds in Addis Mercato, the biggest market in Africa. He was surrounded by people, animals, and vehicles. There were folk buying spices from stalls with perfect cone-shaped piles of powder on them. They’d scoop some spice into a little bag for their customer, then spend their time making the cone smooth again as they waited for another sale. A donkey carrying a pile of overstuffed bags wandered past a table where women haggled over lengths of brightly colored cloth.
He dodged around a display of intricately woven baskets being sold from a blanket on the ground, and barely missed toppling a woman who held a pole laden with jebenas—the local clay formed coffee pots. From plastic containers to shoes made of recycled tires, the market had everything you could ever need and a lot of things you wouldn’t.
But, on that hot, dry morning, where the red dust rose from the earth to coat your feet, Harry didn’t pay attention to the chaos around him. His eyes were fixed firmly on his feet as his brain raced over the lines of code he needed to perfect for the British government. This was why, when a man with a pile of overfilled bags balanced on top of his head stepped into his path—Harry walked into him. The bags fell to the ground, Harry tripped over them and landed flat on his back in the dirt.
And a nearby donkey sat on his legs.
There was a second when it felt like the whole world paused to look at the white man trapped under the ass of a donkey. And then, the world laughed.
“Harry!”
He groaned and shut his eyes as he heard his wife rush through the crowd to get to him. Unlike Harry, who blended into the woodwork, people tended to notice Magenta. He wasn’t sure if it was the Goth effect of her black makeup and clothes, or just because Magenta wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting in her way.
“Help me get that donkey off him,” she snapped. “Harry, are you okay?”
He opened an eye and saw her face above his, the bright blue of the sky framing her black hair like a halo. “The internet’s down,” he said. “Well, not all of it. Just our hotel’s connection. I was heading to the Hilton to use their Wi-Fi.”
The weight of the donkey lifted from him, and the beast brayed loudly in complaint. Apparently, Harry made a comfortable seat.
“Come on,” Magenta said. “Get up before someone trips over you.”
She reached out her hand and helped Harry to his feet. He gamely smiled back at his grinning audience as his wife patted the dust off his back. Today she wore black denim cut-off shorts, a black vest-top, and black canvas Converse. Several strings of black and white ceramic beads that she’d bought in Nigeria were wrapped around her wrist. She’d tied her dyed black hair up in a high ponytail, and this softened the effect of the thick black eyeliner framing her eyes. As usual, she was stunning.
He knew he was grinning at her like a loon, but he couldn’t help it. His whole life, all he’d wanted was to be with Magenta. Ever since he’d seen her in the playground when they were tiny. Now, he got to be with her every day.
“What am I going to do with you?” she said when she saw the grin.
“I can think of a few things. But maybe we shouldn’t do any of them in public.”
She took his hand. “Yeah, in public is definitely out.” She started walking, pulling him along with her.
“Where are we going?” Harry said.
“To the hotel. To find the internet you need.”
He could feel the burn in his cheeks. Thirty years old, and he still embarrassed himself at every turn. It was a good job he was smart; otherwise, his ego would have been dust by now.
“I’ve figured out the kink in that code I’m working on for the Department of Defence. I just need to get it to them, and they can run a diagnostic.” The work he did for the UK government was top secret, but he loved the challenge it provided.
After he’d sold his security program to the government for a mint, he’d tried to go into semi-retirement and focus on setting up a literacy charity with his dyslexic wife, but coding kept calling to him. There was nothing like the challenge of writing code. Of pitting your brain against the world’s best hackers and seeing who came out on top. Apart from sex with Magenta, it was the best high he could think of.
“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?” Magenta tugged at his hand and smiled up at him.
“Were you talking?” He often zoned out when his brain was niggling away at a problem. His wife had become used to it.
“I was saying that we’ve almost set up the school now. We hired the last staff member this morning.”
“That’s great.” He wanted to sweep her up and hug her tight to show his admiration. But the middle of a bustling market wasn’t the best place. A thought struck him, and his stomach fell. “I was supposed to be at that interview, wasn’t I?”
They turned up a dusty street with shanty style houses on one side of the road and high-rise buildings on the other—one of them, the hotel Harry had been aiming for. It always disturbed him that a luxury hotel overlooked the tin roofs of the shanty. It made him feel enormously guilty that he had so much when so many had so little.
“We’re doing what we can to help,” Magenta said, as though reading his mind.
“I know.” It was the reason they’d set up a charity to run schools in some of the poorest parts of the world to help educate kids who couldn’t afford it. And all of it was paid for with the money he’d made from selling his security software to the government. Which reminded him, he really must tweak some of his notes before he sent them off to his colleagues…
“And he’s off again.” Magenta grinned at him.
“I’m sorry.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side as her arm snaked around his waist. “I’ll get this done, then we can have dinner, and I promise to concentrate on every word you say.”
“I know you will.” She gave him a squeeze. “Go do what you need to do and meet me in the lobby bar. And, if you get lost in your work and don’t appear within the next couple of hours, I’ll come find you.”
His shoulders sagged with relief. Him getting lost in his work was a distinct possibility. “See you soon.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and headed for the business center.
Magenta didn’t have to track her husband down. He managed to find his way to the Hilton lobby bar less than an hour after he’d gone in search of an internet connection.
There were dark circles under his eyes from too many nights spent working on his code, because his days had been filled helping her run their charity. He absentmindedly pushed his hair from his forehead as he smiled at her, and, as usual, her heart flipped at the sight. Harry’s genius IQ meant that when he focused on something, it got all of his attention. He honestly didn’t see anything but the object of his focus. And when that object was her, the feeling was indescribable. There was nothing in the world like having all of Harry’s attention.
He flopped his long, lean body into the chair beside her and eyed the tablet in her hand. “School stuff?”
“Tightening loose ends for the new board of trustees.” She put the tablet aside. “How did it go? Get the code sent okay?”
“Yeah, but the internet here’s even slower than our hotel’s connection.” He signaled for the waiter, who headed their way. “Have you ordered already?”
“No, I was waiting for you.”
They gave their choices to the waiter and relaxed back into their leather seats. The crisp, clean marble-and-metal décor of the bar was in stark contrast to the dusty chaos outside the door of the hotel. Gentle background music played as cool air pumped through the room. They could have been in a hotel anywhere in the world. There was nothing around them to indicate that they were in the middle of Ethiopia.
Magenta leaned across the table and took her husband’s hand in hers. “You’re fed up with all the traveling, aren’t you?”
He jerked at her comment, his hand tightening on hers. “I don’t mind it. I only want you to be happy.”
And there it was, the reason her love for Harry often overwhelmed her. “I am happy. You make me that way.”
“Then we’re good.” And he meant it. As far as he was concerned, the topic was closed.
Harry would bend over backward to give her everything she wanted, even if it meant sacrificing some of the things he needed. It was her job to make sure his needs were fulfilled too. One she’d slacked on these past couple of years, mainly because she’d been so busy setting up their schools. But it was time that changed.
“I want to make you happy too,” she said.
“You do.” He leaned across the table, eager to reassure her.
Magenta shook her head to stop whatever he was about to say. “You’re getting antsy. I see it. You want to be working again.”
“I do work. I work on the charity with you, and I do the odd job with Benson Security. Then there’s the government work.”
“Which you can’t do properly, because we’re always moving, and the internet connections are spotty at best. Plus, you’re limited in what you can do because you need a secure connection. You’re doing half the job you want to do, and it’s obvious you’re getting frustrated.”
“It’s working out okay. I don’t have any complaints.”
No, he wouldn’t. Because that wasn’t how he functioned. It was time she complained on his behalf. Even if it meant the complaint was against herself. “The charity isn’t your thing,” she said softly. “I know you’re supporting me in it, but it isn’t your first love. Coding is. I’ve been selfish making you focus on the schools these past few years.”
“Don’t be daft. You haven’t been selfish. And you’re wrong about my first love. It’s you, baby. Always has been, always will be.”
And that’s why things had to change. Harry would never look out for himself; he’d always put her first. It was time she did the same for him. “The Benson Security work isn’t stretching you either. You could do it in your sleep. Let’s face it, you don’t have a whole lot of interest in the company. You mainly went into partnership with Lake and Callum to help them out.” She gentled her voice. “They don’t need you now. They’ve established their reputation, and they have Elle to do their computer stuff. I think it’s time you cut your ties with the business.”
Harry started to protest, but his shoulders relaxed some. Which was a dead giveaway that the idea appealed to him.
“Honey,” Magenta said to stop his protest. “I think it’s time we moved back to Scotland.”
His gaze shot to hers, and he focused in on her, the way only Harry could: not missing one tiny thing. “You mean it?”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot these past few months. The charity is well established now, and there are a lot of skilled people in Africa who are far more knowledgeable about setting up a school than I’ll ever be. I’m self-aware enough to realize that working with the charity these past few years has been more about helping me deal with growing up dyslexic than it ever was about running the schools.” She knew her smile was rueful. “I think we should employ an African team to move around and set things up, then let them get on with it.”
“No.” Harry leaned in, ready to argue her case even against herself.
“You know it’s true,” she cut him off. “Finding out at twenty-one that I wasn’t dumb, that I just had a learning issue, rocked my world. Having you, and the bags of cash you don’t care about has made it easy to throw myself into setting up something to ensure other kids don’t have to suffer what I did.” She reached for his other hand, holding them both tight, as she stared into the eyes of the man she loved more than she loved breathing. “You’re an amazing man. Your support over the past few years has changed everything about my life and given me confidence in me. It’s time I gave something back to you.”
“You give me everything, baby. There’s nothing else to give.”
Damn, but she loved her man. “I want to move back to Scotland. I want to run my own caving company like I always planned. And I want you to have great internet access, lots of computery gadgets, and your brother close enough to watch football with on a Saturday. I want to go home to Invertary.”
His lips quirked. “Not sure computery is a technical term.”
“We’ll make it one. What do you say, Hairy Boil? Want to go home to Invertary with me once we’ve sorted this school?”
His goofy smile made her heart beat faster. “Yeah, Maggie Fraser-Boil, I do.”
“Good. Then while I sort out the last few loose ends to get the school up and running, you need to ring Lake and sell your share in the business to him. Agreed?”
“Yeah, agreed. But you know we can still travel to check on the schools, right?”
“I know.” She leaned across the table and kissed her husband, long and hard.
The sound of a throat being cleared brought them up for air, and they turned to find their waiter grinning down at them. “Do you want these meals to take to your room?” he asked.
“This isn’t actually our hotel,” Harry told him.
The smile grew wider. “Do you want me to get you a room?”
“No,” Magenta said. “I think we’re good.” Then she looked at her husband. “But eat fast, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed with that sparkle in his eyes that she loved.