Page 24 of Loving Graystoke's Heir

“We’ve always been strong-willed people, Donal, but I can say that I see the same things in both of us, up until a point.”

Donal shook himself and tried to brush away the confusion from his mind. “What’s that?”

He saw a tear gather on her lashes at the corner of her eye, but she kept her hands straight down to her sides rather than wipe it away.

“That you say you want me, but you won’t fight for me. For us. And so I’m going to walk away right now before I slap you silly. You’re already the biggest idiot I know.”

He could only stare at her as she walked way, wondering how he managed to do exactly what he’d wanted to avoid, hurting her.

Maybe it was better to let her walk away, hating him.

He didn’t need to hear his beast tell him he’d been an even bigger ass than he already was, he just had to decide what to do from there.

Chapter Six

Tamsin hadn’t expected the women in the group to fold her into their circle as quickly as they did. In fact, she hadn’t even said a word before one of the women took her by the hand and led her toward the mess tent to take a seat.

She didn’t know what possessed her, but as Magheli approached the table, Tamsin crooked her finger and brought him close enough that she could whisper a request.

If her request shocked him, he didn’t show it. Instead he gave her a low nod and left the tent, his long stride eating up the distance to his jeep. Picking up his duffle, Magheli headed down the path she’d just traveled.

There was only one of the women who turned to watch the tall Afrikaner walk away, and when she took her place at the table, Tamsin mustered up a smile for her. “You must be Zenzile. I met your father yesterday.”

The other woman took her measure in a quick glance, nodding at the end of her assessment. “And he,” her eyes chased after Magheli rather than saying his name, “took you to see my father?”

Tamsin grinned. “Magheli told me that if anyone would know where to find Donal, it would be your father.” The moment struck her as funny, not in the ‘ha ha’ sense, but in the way that odd moments knocked her off kilter. “How strange that nearly everyone I’ve met since coming to Africa knows each other. Like it’s the universe playing its own version of six degrees of separation.” Her voice fell away as she counted silently on her fingers. “And I only needed three to find Donal. That’s some kind of luck.”

The woman beside her introduced herself as Amahle and offered her a cup of umqombothi and Tamsin eagerly accepted. She’d developed a taste for the beer the night before and while she wasn’t one to drink every day, she gave herself a pass. The things she’d seen…

Holding the cup in her hand she looked at the women surrounding her and did her best to answer their smiles with her own before she took a sip.

Okay, more than a sip, but no one seemed to be complaining.

Leaning on the tabletop, Zenzile gave her a pointed look. “Do you want to tell us what happened back there?”

Back there.

Shaking her head, Tamsin blew out a breath. “I’m not even sure I know what happened. I’m still trying to understand it. To understand what happened to Donal. He’s not the man… not the same man I knew in America.”

The women at the table shared looks with each other.

Nomusa, who had introduced herself when Tamsin had arrived at the camp, poured more of the beer into her cup. “And we wondered who he left behind.”

Tamsin didn’t have anything to say to that. She knew what she wanted to be to Donal… back then. She still held onto that love for him. She didn’t think she’d ever let that go.

She took another sip of the beer and let the strong brew cover her tongue and soothe the ache in her chest. How was she going to understand anything ever again?

Donal wasn’t just her first love. He’d likely be the last. There wasn’t any room in her heart for another man.

A man.

Was he still?

Tamsin could almost feel his hands on her, his eyes watching her expressions as he spoke. How could he be anything other than the man she’d fallen in love with?

The man she’d given herself to.

And even when she’d looked at their hands folded together and watched his skin turn from his warm tan to the ink-dark skin of a gorilla, she hadn’t felt fear so much as wonder.

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