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The chefs were true to their words. The night’s dinner was a feast of culinary genius. The chefs all hailed from West Africa and were eager to display some of their favorite dishes.
The main dining room was soon alive with conversation and laughter as the residents began to enter. Kam walked arm in arm with Kieli. The ladies chatted away while Ali and Chisulo talked and followed behind them. Cafrey and Saiida conversed enthusiastically as they arrived. Mustafa and Bach were in the midst of a discussion when they followed moments later. Rani and Kofi rounded out the group as they walked in laughing over something they viewed on Rani’s phone.
The housekeeping staff doubled as servers and plied the diners with their preferred beverages, bread, and salad to start things off. Laughter and conversation gradually eased when the main courses started to arrive. West African cuisine was thoroughly represented. Soups and stews were as hearty as the main dishes placed on the long, beautifully set table. Appetites had no choice but to be satisfied.
Egusi Soup from Nigeria was more of a savory stew with leafy greens, chunks of fresh-caught fish, and yams. Another hearty dish was the Ogbono Soup. Also from Nigeria, this chicken, crayfish and shrimp-filled soup received a round of applause from Rani as it was his favorite. Rounding out the array of succulent fare, was a favorite of Mustafa’s and Ali’s. Cachupa Stew from Cape Verde was a slow-cooked dish made from a medley of vegetables- corn, cassava, and yam along with flavorful and fresh meats including chunks of spicy, beef sausage.
For those choosing to satisfy their appetites with seemingly lighter fare, there was Chicken Tassa. This Ghanan recipe topped a bed of couscous with onions, garlic, peppers, and cabbage as well as chicken marinated in lemon and onions. For dessert, the chefs decided on a simple favorite: chocolate cake.
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“Next on our list of travel destinations, brother,” Kofi said as he and Rani shook on the decision.
Cafrey had been sharing details of the Oracabessa trip. The young Nkosis perked up at the mention of the Golden Eye Hotel and James Bond Beach. The two were die-hard fans of the film franchise as well as the book series.
“It’s a well-kept secret,” Cafrey said, “not too overrun with tourists.”
“Given what it costs to spend a night there,” Kieli said, “it’s a great way to attract exactly who you want.”
“Is it a ‘tuxedos for breakfast’ kind of place?”
Kam’s query earned a laugh from the group.
“It’s not as high-brow as you might think, Kam,” Cafrey said. “Everyone we met was very welcoming and down to earth. Someone even said it’s a top destination for several bird-watching groups.”
“Careful there, Cafrey. Bird watchers aren’t always what they seem.” Kam noted.
“I’m reading his book, you know?” Saiida informed her cousin.
Kieli’s eyes darted between the women. “Have I missed something?”
“Maxwell Davis,” Ali chimed in. “The dolt propped himself up as a friend to Kam and then betrayed her by working with The Safari.”
Kieli nodded then, remembering.
“Why are you wasting time reading that bastard’s book?” Ali asked, while helping himself to a third thick slice of the divine cake.
Saiida shrugged. “You can learn a lot about a person from a book. Especially one they’ve written themself. Call it professional courtesy. I’d like to know who Dr. Davis was before he got tangled up with The Safari. I mean, he wasn’t always one of them, right Kam?”
“No.” Kam shook her head and took a sip from her goblet of pinot griot. “He’d go on and on about how horrific their existence was for the environment. Later, he said he only got in bed with them to secure funding for his research.”
Quiet, chilly laughter surged from several around the table.
“I can relate, though,” Saiida said. “A scientist’s work...some of us are blindly passionate about it. From what I’m reading of Dr. Davis’s book, I sense that passion.”
“That’s true!” Kam’s laughter flowed more robustly. “I remember his passion for Shorebirds. Knowing him, I learned more than I ever knew there was to know about their mating habits.”
Laughter roared at the table. Saiida’s was among the loudest until something stopped her. No one, except Bach appeared to notice. While the lively discussion continued at the table, he cupped her elbow and squeezed.
“Okay?” he queried softly.
“I just thought of something but,” she cast a quick, covert look around the table, “It’s only speculation until I can confirm it.”
“This about Kam?” Bach guessed.
Saiida nodded. “I don’t think she’s gonna like it. Neither will your brother.”
“But you think it might help us get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
“Yeah,” again, Saiida looked around at the faces alive with laughter and excitement. “Yeah, I think it just might.”
***
Mustafa rested on the doorframe and watched Cafrey finish up a call to her assistant Shelby Lemans who was in charge during her absence.
“Think there will be many more fires to be put out before we get back?” He asked when she was done with the call.
“Doubt it,” Cafrey said. “That’s the first call I’ve gotten from her since we left Iceland, so I’m impressed.”
Mustafa watched as she put the phone on to charge. “You clocking out for the night?”
“Thought I’d have a cup of tea first, do some reading,” Cafrey did a doubletake toward Mustafa still in the doorway. “You okay?” she asked.
He responded at first with a half smile. “Just thinking how nice it was down there tonight at dinner.”
“Yeah,” Cafrey’s bourbon-brown eyes held a dreamy tint. “Bet you never thought that would be possible.”
“Well...it’s not like any of us are ready to jump in front of a bus for one another, but yeah...yeah it was a nice surprise- a good one. Thank you.”
“Me?” Playful suspicion held her expression. “It was your idea to have Ali here.”
“It was you who reminded me of that when he and I were behaving like jackasses,” he said.
“You’re the one who agreed to it,” she countered.
Mustafa laughed. “Jeez woman, can’t I even compliment you?”
“I think you just wanted me to turn around and give you the credit.” When his contagious laughter intensified, she smiled gleefully.
Laughter cooling, he pushed from the door. “I should let you get to your reading. I only checked in to tell you about these doors.”
Cafrey reacted with a curious frown. Mustafa gestured toward the towering cherrywood doors on either side of the entryway.
“I didn’t even notice them there,” she moved closer, surveying the slabs which looked to be part of the wall instead of separate entities. “How do they open? I didn’t see a knob or lever...”
“They pull away from the wall,” he used one of the doors to demonstrate. “They’re held by a magnetic panel that adheres to the one on the back of the door. Just push on it when you want it to open.”
“Ingenious,” she laughed softly. “You guys really put a lot into this place. Guests lucky enough to get an invite must be very impressed.”
“This place is just for family. Kam’s about to be my sister. If Bach gets his head out of his ass and does right by Saiida, she’ll be my sister too. It makes sense for Ali to be here.”
“Well, Kieli and I appreciate being thought of as family.”
Mustafa’s expression was unreadable then. “You’ve been my family for a long time, Cafrey.”
She squeezed his arm and turned to the other door. “Now, let me try my luck with this thing. I just pull it from the magnet?”
“Yeah...even someone as puny as you can manage it.”
Cafrey laughed and swatted Mustafa’s arm that time. Seconds later, her arms were in his grip and the wall was at her back. Then, his mouth was on hers, smothering, crushing, filling her mouth with his tongue. Her whimper of surprise was followed by a trembling moan. Eagerly, her fingers curled into his shirt front, a move meant to reassure her that he wouldn’t be reconsidering his closeness anytime soon.
She hadn’t fantasized about Mustafa Nkosi in years. Correction- she hadn’t let herself fantasize about him. That hadn’t been easy to accomplish. The man had always been too sexy for his own good. How often had she wondered if his mouth was as velvety soft as it appeared? Or whether his immense build was as hard and unyielding as it looked beneath the tailored clothing he wore? She didn’t dare ease her hold on his clothes to test the softness of the thick wavy mane that brushed his eclipsing shoulders. She wanted nothing to interrupt the kiss she had waited too long to sample.
He had always exhibited the height of professionalism where she was concerned. He never gave her cause to think he saw her as anything other than his trusty assistant. What the hell was happening?
Whatever it was, she would ponder it later. Right now, his mouth felt too right on hers, his tongue far too skillful to be legal. It stroked the roof and sides of her mouth, engaging hers in a seductive dance that involved circling and rubbing before he used his lips to suckle her tongue and draw it deep.
Cafrey’s tiny whimpers and moans were an enticement that soon made Mustafa second guess his gentlemanly, yet stupid decision to let her have his bed while he slept on a couch.
Sleep? Ha! He’d be lucky to feel settled enough to close his eyes after this. While her hands curled trustingly into his shirt, his now moved down her back en route to her bottom to take liberties he’d never acted on. Yes, those liberties had crossed his mind and he had always shut them down.
Ilua Botha had been right when she’d referred to Cafrey as a goddess. She was so far out of his league that it was laughable that he’d consider himself worthy of her affection, let alone her love. That she was unattainable, was one of the many reasons he’d selected her for the job all those years ago. When had his attraction for her started to eat away at his better intentions?
The kiss was showing no signs of cooling. Her bottom was snug in his hands now and bringing truth to what he had long suspected about the quality of her curves. Effortlessly supporting her, he spread her thighs, moving between them as he positioned her against the wall. She gasped amid the steady thrusts of his tongue. The folds of her peach cashmere dress had shifted. Except for her sheer stockings and panties, there was no barrier-no denying the tremendous build of the man holding her.
Instinctively, her thighs flexed in attempts to hold, squeeze and absorb the sensations he roused. Her hands moved over his chest and shoulders as the sense of being overwhelmed began to consume her. The sense wasn’t intimidating, but thrilling. Cafrey didn’t want it to end, but perfection was always fleeting and the recipient could only consider themself lucky for having experienced it at all.
The hunger of the kiss began to ebb slowly, yet noticeably. The lusty thrusts eased until they were only trading the sweetest of kisses, lips meeting in rapid succession for a time until that ceased as well.
Mustafa kissed Cafrey’s cheek, and put another to the corner of her eye and a third to her forehead. He lingered there for a time, then stepped back and set her gently to her feet.
“Good night, Cafrey,” he said.
The towering doors were closing behind Mustafa by the time Cafrey repeated the sentiment.