After another round of goodbyes, Imani hung up the phone. She touched a finger to her bottom lip and felt warmth pool in her pelvis. Had those looks Kofi said he saw from Wasim been mere lust…or something more?
“You and Imani? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Andres said.
Sitting at the top of the steps that led into his expansive back yard, Wasim smiled at Andres’s incredulous tone. He scratched under the chin of the baby lion wedged up against his thigh. She was absolutely adorable, purring happily with half-closed eyes as he scratched her pleasure spot.
Across the lawn, the animal caretakers playfully wrestled with the lion and lioness in the grass.
“There was always chemistry between the two of you, but I never thought anything would come of it,” Andres admitted.
That comment got Wasim’s attention. “And why not?”
“For one thing, I never saw any sign of you settling down.”
“That’s because I didn’t want to settle down. But circumstances change, and decisions have to be made that make sense for you and your future.”
“That sounds very romantic,” Andres said dryly.
“What did you hope for? That she would put a ring through my nose the way Angela has put a ring through yours?”
A mere four months ago, in December, he’d married Angela Lipscomb, Dahlia’s best friend. He met her at Dahlia and Kofi’s wedding. They had a baby on the way in a few months.
Andres laughed. “Yes, and that you would love every minute of it. Falling in love and being with the person you love is the best feeling in the world. It makes you willing to do anything to hold on to that high.”
Wasim rubbed his hand over the cub’s head and ears, but didn’t reply.
“You don’t have to answer me, but I have to ask—is this real?”
Wasim paused. “What do you mean?”
“You and Imani.”
“As real as ever,” he replied evenly.
“That’s not an answer.”
“You have doubts because…why, exactly?”
“The timing, I suppose. But maybe I’m wrong.”
Wasim’s gaze shifted to where the adult lions now lazed in the sun. “Imani has all the qualities I want in a wife.”
“And she understands the demands that come with that position, which makes her a good fit. I’m happy for you, if this is what you want.”
“This is what I want,” Wasim said firmly.
“Then I wish you both the best.”
“Thank you.” He had a feeling they would need it.
7
What a day!
Imani hurried into the embassy and removed her white face mask. She felt grimy and dirty. Today had been a particularly scorching day, with the ceremony she attended getting cut short by a sandstorm. They hadn’t had one this bad in over a year. With limited visibility, the entire city looked like it was covered in fog, and the local weather service predicted those conditions would remain until tomorrow.
Thank goodness she’d worn another headscarf, turban-style again—gold and black this time—which matched her gold blouse and black slacks. She looked forward to a cleansing shower, but at least she wouldn’t have to wash her hair.
“Any messages?” she asked as she swept down the carpeted hall to her office, past the photographs that portrayed rural and city life in Zamibia. She tucked the mask into the large leather purse over her shoulder.
Daman, the office manager, fell into step beside her and brushed dust particles from her clothes. He was a few inches taller than her with dark brown skin and wore his hair in dreadlocks pinned in a bun at the crown of his head.
“A few phone calls inquiring about the result of the report from the environmental commission.”
“A report we still haven’t received yet,” Imani said, irritation spiking her voice.
“Nothing has changed since this morning, and I’ve called several times to get an update, but no one can tell me anything except they will provide the report soon.”
Waiting for the assessment put Imani and her team in an awkward position with the Barrakesch government. Once the report arrived, they’d have to sort through it and make final adjustments before the agreement between Barrakesch and Zamibia could be signed. But absolutely nothing could be done until then. Right now, the Barrakesch Ministry of Oil was patient, but the delay meant postponing getting this project off all their plates.
“Keep me up to date on—”
Imani came to a stop on the threshold of her office and stared at her favorite piece of furniture. The large, heavy desk had been imported from Zamibia at her request and right now served as the base for a vase filled with red roses. She walked forward slowly.
“What’s all this?” She lifted one of the roses from the enormous bouquet.
“Special delivery. They arrived after lunch.” Daman came to stand beside her.
“From who?” Imani opened the attached envelope. Only one short sentence was written on the card inside.
No more toads.
Her heart fluttered, and she smiled through the biting of her lip.
Damon leaned in and peered at the card. “No more toads?”
Imani clutched the message to her chest and pursed her lips. “Mind your business.”
“What does that mean?”
Instead of answering, Imani walked around the desk, set down her purse, and sat in the leather chair. Crossing her legs, she sniffed the petals of the single rose, which reminded her of how the front entrance of Wasim’s home smelled. Roses were among the flowers he used in the fountain in the foyer.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked pointedly.
“So you’re not going to tell me?”
“Bye, Daman.”
“Those better be from Prince Wasim, or I’m telling.” He sent her a pointed look as he walked out of the room.
Imani failed at fighting the smile that came to her face. Wasim certainly had his own cheerleading section. She didn’t doubt for a minute that Daman would rat her out to Wasim if she stepped out of line. Women loved him and men admired him.
Her gaze lingered on the beautiful flowers, and she tapped a finger on the desktop. Should she call him now? He might be busy, but she wanted to thank him.
“Call him now,” she said aloud, laughing to herself.
She dialed his number, and it rang three times before he answered.
“Hello, Prince Wasim.” Imani winced, embarrassed at the sound of her voice. She sounded extra sweet and downright coquettish.
“Hello, Ambassador Karunzika. Did you get my gift? I hope the color was okay. I couldn’t find lavender roses.”
When he talked like that, with his voice low and warmth seeping through the words, he made her pulse go crazy.
“Yes, I received them and the color is fine. The flowers are beautiful. Toads?” She smiled.
“I’m wishing you the best moving forward. You’re too good for the toads of the world.”
Her nipples tightened fractionally. The compliment and small gesture of sending flowers had her head floating above the clouds.
This is pretend, she reminded herself.
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful. How are things coming with the technology expo?”