Читать книгу The Ordinary King - Нина Харрингтон - Страница 6

‘I AM so sorry, Kate, but there is still no sign of your luggage. They are chasing up the airline, but you may have to do some emergency shopping. Not, perhaps, the finest welcome to Ghana you could have had.’

Kate O’Neill smiled across at the company’s PR agent for West Africa, who had already gone beyond the call of duty to try and track down her precious suitcase. ‘I blame it on that five-hour delay leaving Mexico. I only just made the connecting flight out of London with minutes to spare. It was a bit optimistic to expect my bag to have done the same, but thank you for trying, Molly. I really appreciate it.’

Molly Evans sighed heavily and took a sip of her coffee. ‘Fingers crossed it will turn up soon. You do know that Andy will never forgive me if I don’t look after you on your first field trip to Ghana, don’t you? He feels bad enough leaving you in the lurch like this at zero notice.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Kate answered. ‘Have you heard from Andy yet? His wife was still in labour when I spoke to him yesterday from Mexico.’

Molly lowered her cup and grinned across at Kate. ‘There was a text message waiting for me this morning. His twin boys are healthy, hungry and tired, just like their parents. I am so pleased for him. He has a lot of sleepless nights to look forward to, and wouldn’t have it any other way. Andy has waited a long time to have the family he wanted, even if the boys did decide to make their appearance three weeks early. Good luck to him.’

Kate lifted up her coffee cup and clinked it against Molly’s. ‘I’ll drink to that. I only hope that the delegates don’t expect me to know as much about the country as Andy does. He has been here—what?—fifteen or twenty years?’

Molly nodded. ‘At least. And don’t worry; the organisers know that you had to step in at the very last minute.’ Then Molly paused and looked at Kate over the top of her spectacles. ‘Unless, of course, I can persuade you to take over from Andy on a more permanent basis?’ Molly added in a casual, innocent voice, her eyebrows raised.

Kate hesitated for a moment, her mind reeling with the impact of Molly’s innocent question.

Take over? Take over a job so totally engrossing and demanding that you could forget any kind of family life? Oh, no! She had seen for herself what had happened to Simon’s father, and the impact his total dedication had had on his wife and son. She would not be making that same mistake.

‘Ah. That would be no,’ Kate replied with a warm smile. ‘I am only working on the project for the next few weeks or so, while Andy is on paternity leave.’

‘Your work in Mexico has been very impressive, Kate,’ Molly said with a slight nod. ‘We could really use someone with your experience to support the team here in Ghana, and I know that Andy has been looking for a long-term replacement for months. Why not think about it over the next few days?’

Luckily for Kate, at that moment there was a rush of chatter from the hotel reception desk as the airport shuttle bus dropped off more new delegates for the technology conference and Molly immediately started bustling together her paperwork and slurping down the last of her coffee.

‘Sorry, Kate. Duty calls. Catch up with you at the welcome session. And … Kate?’

Only Kate was not listening. Her attention was totally focused on the tall, rugged-looking man in very dusty clothing who was standing in the elegant lobby, and her jaw dropped in that fraction of a second when she recognised who it was—who had just walked back into her life after three years.

A bolt of energy hit her hard in the stomach, and sucked the air from her lungs so powerfully that she had to clutch onto the edge of the table with both hands to stop herself sliding off the chair and onto the floor.

She could not believe that this was happening.

It had to be some sort of crazy nightmare, brought on by lack of sleep from two long-haul flights after a busy week and way too much caffeine to compensate.

There was nothing else that could explain this giddiness.

She did not do giddy. She never did giddy.

Except that six feet two of broad-shouldered, brown-haired hunk of a man-boy from a distant country she called the past was blocking her view of the hotel entrance and the light from the halogens above his head. Even at this distance, with only a side view of his head, there was no doubt at all about who she was looking at.

It was a face she’d used to know by heart. A face she had kept in that safe locked room in her memory alongside the fading images of the people she had once loved.

But there was no mistaking him.

Simon Richard Reynolds. Her Simon.

The last person on the planet she had expected to see at that moment, in this hotel, and still in Ghana after three years, took a couple of steps closer—and the sight of him sent her brain into a complete spin.

This must be what it feels like to have a heart attack.

Her hands moved instinctively to smooth down the fabric of her skirt, and she had to force herself not to check her hair and her shoes to make sure that she was clean and neat and almost good enough for the smartest, richest boy in her university class. It seemed that old habits were hard to break.

‘Oh, there’s Simon,’ Molly said with a smile. ‘Have you two already met?’

Met? Kate did not know whether to laugh or to cry. Her brain was racing with memories of Simon laughing, Simon racing along the beach holding her hand, Simon kissing her so hard that she thought she would die from the pleasure of it … Her Simon.

‘Yes. We were on the same course at university back in England. But that was years ago,’ she added quickly. ‘I haven’t seen him since. I certainly had no idea he was still in Africa.’

‘He most certainly is,’ Molly said with a certain lilt in her voice, ‘and likely to stay in Ghana for quite some time. We’re all very excited about what Simon has achieved here.’

‘Really? Is he working on one of your field projects?’ Kate asked as casually as she could; only it came out squeaky and a lot wobblier than she wanted.

Molly looked up at her in surprise. ‘Oh, no. Simon was working with Andy. I am looking forward to his presentation this afternoon—so far it sounds like one of the company’s most successful initiatives. Lucky girl—he’s all yours. Now, if you will excuse me, I promise I’ll catch up with you later. And welcome to Ghana, Kate. Akwaaba.’

Breathing was starting to become difficult.

Simon had been working with Andy? He was all hers?

That could not be right. She had read through the files on the three projects Andy was supervising during the long flight from Mexico, and she certainly hadn’t seen Simon’s name come up. Tired she might be, but she would not have missed the name which was engraved on her heart.

And then Kate sighed out loud.

Of course. Stupid girl.

All of the proposals for company sponsorship had to go through the most senior member of that particular small tribal kingdom in Ghana. Royal protocol demanded that only the king for the area made those sorts of decisions. Volunteers like Simon would not be listed on any of those high-level reports.

Kate’s cup rattled on the saucer as the terrible reality of her situation hit home.

Suddenly it was all a bit too much. She was on a new continent, for goodness’ sake, in a new country, without her luggage after a long nightmare journey from Mexico. Her body clock had no idea what time of day it was, and she was eating breakfast when she should probably be sleeping.

And now she was going to have to work with Simon Reynolds if she was going to make a go of her temporary promotion and impress her boss, just when she needed promotion so very badly.

Kate sucked in a lungful of air and watched Molly meet and greet the other conference delegates, dressed in bright African robes or western dress, and felt even more guilt. The company she worked for was one of the main sponsors for this conference. She should be on her feet, smiling and shaking hands like Molly and Simon were doing now. Networking. Explaining why Andy was not there to meet them as usual. Making the delegates feel welcome.

But that would mean talking to Simon. And she was not ready for that. Not yet.

How did you start a conversation when what you really wanted to say was along the lines of, Hi, Simon—isn’t the weather nice for this time of year? Oh, by the way, do you still blame me for destroying your parents’ marriage and generally ruining your life? Because I would really like to know why you abandoned me just when I needed you the most and broke my heart in the process. If it is not too much trouble?

Suddenly her confidence faltered and shuddered to a grinding halt.

Kate swallowed down the huge lump of emotion and regret in her throat that was threatening to overwhelm her. She had sworn three years ago, during that terrible summer after he left, that she would not waste one more tear or sleepless night on Simon Reynolds while her stepdad and her sister needed her to be strong for them.

She could do this. The company needed her to be a total professional and do her job. Simon was just another volunteer working on the company-sponsored rural IT project. That was all.

She was going to show him that she had changed in the past three years. Kate O’Neill was not the push-over he had known at university, who had relied on her extrovert boyfriend to make all the big decisions for them both. The tables had turned. She was the one making the decisions now.

Forcing her head up, she stood up from the table, smiled across to the delegates and lifted her chin, back straight.

Only at that same moment Molly said something to Simon, and they both turned their heads in her direction.

Simon’s gaze met hers, locked and held.

She had always been able to read Simon from those remarkable grey eyes, but at this distance it was not possible—except for a flicker of … What? What was it she saw in that instant? Hurt? Need? Confusion? Surprise and amazement? Remorse?

Kate’s stomach clenched and tied into a tight painful knot under the cold, analytical focus of his stare. Then Simon gave one hard blink and the moment was lost.

With one brief smile and half-bow to the group around him Simon turned towards her and strolled in slow, deliberate steps across the room, as though he owned the hotel, the resort and most of the world around it.

Confident. Strong. Impressive.

Simon Reynolds had been brought up to be a leader amongst men, and it showed in every step that he took—no matter where he was or what he was wearing.

In fact she might have been intimidated by him if it had not been for a few tiny aspects of his new look. The supersmart, casual but expensive preppy clothes his mother had used to buy him in London when he was a student had been replaced by a loose short-sleeved shirt made from the same type of striped fabric she had seen being worn at the airport the previous evening. The faded and darned fabric hung over the scruffiest trousers she had ever seen in her life. The knees were patched with several irregular pieces of fabric in various patterns, which seemed to have been cut out with the same nail scissors he had used to trim his hair. A brown cowhide shoulder bag was slung casually across his chest.

He was unshaven, he was trailing a line of red dust along the floor as he walked, and he looked tastier than hot bread straight from the oven.

Mouth-watering. Hot. Bread.

Perhaps he was more country Sourdough than buttery brioche, but Simon Reynolds still looked just as delicious, and her treacherous heart yearned for a taste.

Her whole body prickled to attention, aware of every move that he made.

Kate sucked in a breath, dropped her gaze, and pretended to gather together her papers on the table, trying to ignore the hot pulsing of the blood in her head as her fingers fumbled and trembled.

Then Simon took another step forward, pausing to greet a delegate on the way, and the air seemed to catch in her lungs in the form of her old nervous cough. The one she had thought she had got rid of.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t talk to him like this in front of the other people in the room. Her emotions were too open and exposed. And her failure to control herself had hit so hard that she knew she would have to escape until she could steady herself.

A minute. That was it. She needed a minute to get her head straight before she went back to work. This time she would be the one running away from him.

Simon watched from the other side of the room as Kate quickly gathered together her paperwork and strolled out onto the hotel terrace, her back straight and her shoulders high with tension.

Kate O’Neill!

Of all the technology conferences in the entire world she had to walk into this one.

He could hardly believe it! But there could only be one tall, curvaceous, elegant blonde-haired woman called Kate O’Neill, and it had taken a single brief glance to confirm it. Katie was back in his life.

He had not even realised that she was working for the same international IT company that was sponsoring his project until an hour ago, when he had finally managed to get through to Andy and her name had echoed down the line like a bolt from above.

Andy Parsons was his contact, his friend, and his longstanding connection to the outside world from the remote rural village in the Volta area of Eastern Ghana where Simon had made his home. Andy had been a keen supporter of his work right from the first time he had met him with his dad all those years ago. Only now Andy was back in England with his new babies, and judging from the telephone conversation they’d had that morning he was so thrilled and stunned that Simon could not begrudge him one single moment of that happiness. Andy had earned it with years of dedication and hard work serving the same people Simon was trying to help now.

Of course Andy had wished him well for his presentation on the pilot study they had worked so hard together to make reality. He believed that Kate O’Neill would be an ideal replacement for him at the conference, and well able to back Simon up in the technical questions.

What Andy did not know—and what he could never know because Simon had not told him—was that Simon and Kate had a history together. Andy had been replaced by the only woman who had every reason to hate his guts. The same woman he needed to be his most avid supporter.

Just fantastic!

Simon ran one hand through his hair, which was freshly coated with a layer of dry red dust from the long road trip from the village. They were late—he was late—and the village of several hundred people had placed its economic future in his hands. He could not let them down—he would not let them down.

He needed a shower and to change, and most of all he needed to persuade Kate O’Neill to take him seriously before the media circus arrived and the pressure really started.

Of course this was only about the work.

The lump in his throat and the thumping of blood in his head had nothing at all to do with the fact that in three years his Katie had grown into the beautiful woman he had always known she would become. Only this time he needed her to be the best friend he had in this world.

That meant she would have to put aside the fact that after three years at university together, where they had shared their lives, dreams and hopes and every waking moment, he had dumped her only days after they’d graduated.

Apart from that …

Time to get to work. He could only pray that she was ready to do the same.

Simon sighed out loud and sniffed.

He was doomed.

Kate stood on the terrace looking out towards the ocean, with her fingers clasped hard around the smooth wooden rail, willing herself to be steady, resolute and professional and failing on every count.

She had never expected the sight of Simon Reynolds to destroy her composure like this, but it had—in every way possible. And it had nothing to do with the past few exhausting days and everything to do with how much she still felt about this man.

Which made her so angry she clenched her nails even harder into the wooden railing.

He had been the one who had walked out on her.

He had been the one who had been full of promises and not kept one of them.

He had been … He had been the love of her life, who had left her behind just like all the other men in her life who had abandoned her when the going got tough. If it had not been for her stepfather, Tom, she would have given up on the whole sorry lot of them a long time ago. Now Simon was here, in this stunning country, and she was going to have to deal with him.

A peal of happy children’s laughter rang out from the beach below, interrupting her thoughts, and Kate blinked hard in the dazzling bright morning light to focus on the stunning view before her.

The hotel terrace faced the ocean, and the beautifully kept lawns stretched out to a wide strip of glowing white sand, where her view of the lapping waves was broken only by the thin trunks of tall palm trees.

It was like a poster of a dream beach from the cover of a holiday brochure, complete with a long wooden canoe on the shore and umbrellas made from palm fronds to protect the professional sunbathers from the heat of the African sun in January.

Palm trees. She was looking at real African coconut palm trees. The sky was a cloudless bright blue, and the warm breeze was luxuriously dry and scented with the salty tang from the sea blended with spice and a tropical sweet floral scent.

A great garland of bougainvillea with stunning bright purple and hot pink flowers wound its way around the handrail, intertwined with a wonderful frangipani which spilled out from a blue ceramic pot, attracting nectar-seeking insects to the intensely fragrant blossoms.

Kate spent most of her life in small air-conditioned computer rooms surrounded by office equipment and machinery. It was only natural that she should bend down to appreciate the frangipani flowers close up. Only the biggest insect she had ever seen in her life was inside one of the flowers at the time, and decided to leave just as she bent her head to sniff the blossom. Insect and cheek collided, and the insect was just as unhappy about that fact as she was.

Ouch! ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Kate mumbled as she stood up and wafted the offending creature away. ‘No wasp stings. Not on my first morning in Africa.’

‘Hello, Katie,’ came a voice as familiar as her own. ‘Talking to yourself again?’