Page 43 of Royal Pain
Chapter 15
Zan
“All of a sudden I’m afraid!” Belinda whisper screams.
I put an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, accidentally knocking her sun hat half off.
“We’re safe. I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.”
She straightens the hat and her eyes dart to our three armed guards and two guides.
“I guess six men and fifty feet should be enough between me and the meat eaters.”
Her nervous laugh gives her words no weight. She’s scared, but I know her mood will change if the lions show.
We stand on the plateau looking down at the clearing below. This is where they come almost daily to sun themselves and look over their territory. Sometimes one female, sometimes with her mate. I’ve yet to see any cubs. But I haven’t been in over a year. It could be a complete bust. There’s rustling in the tall grass bordering the clearing, and I see them move aside as something passes through.
“Here they come,” Embodi says in low tones, not turning to look at us.
His eyes are on the movement of the grasses. The men take their positions. Belinda’s nails dig into my forearm but her eyes are trained on the brush.
“Stay quiet,” I say in soft tones.
First two big golden paws and a majestic face peek out, followed by the body of the male lion. He makes no moves indicating he’s seen us. But I know for sure he’s smelled our presence. Behind him comes the female, her gait slow and easy. Their eyes are trained on the clearing.
I look to Belinda whose face is transformed. The fear has become wonder, and there’s actual tears in her eyes. She mouths the word, “Ohhh,” and squeezes my arm.
The lions begin to settle in the center of the clearing, after sniffing out the right spot. A kind of a dance happens between them right before setting their bodies down. Each faces a different direction, back haunches almost touching. The breeze is strong and it ripples their thick coats like wheat in a field. The female lifts her head to catch the wind.
“They’re beautiful, right?” I say.
“I’ve never been so taken by a sight. They’re magnificent, Zan.”
We stayed watching for just fifteen minutes. That’s when they both caught sight of us and became too intrigued. When the male got up and began to saunter our way was when we decided it was time to go back to camp.
* * *
When I first suggested we take a couple of days for a photographic safari I didn’t expect such an enthusiastic reply.
“Yes! I’d love to do that! I need to borrow your pith helmet!” she teased.
It’s turned out to be everything I hoped it would be, for me and for her. Just watching her expression when seeing an animal in the wild would have been enough. But add to that sharing the sunrise and sunset of the day. Beautiful. Tonight I’m taking cues from her favorite movie. With Belinda my motivation is genuine. I want to please by recreating something that touched her.
The fire’s in the middle of camp. It crackles and pops. The starlit sky, so clear in the darkness of the surroundings. The large comfortable tent we will be sleeping in tonight and the full course dinner the guides are preparing. All scenes from the movie. Glad I thought about lighting, which could have been difficult had it not been for the lanterns. They cast beautiful patterns on the ground. I’m certain my team is cussing me out under their breath for having to lug all these extras.
Tomorrow morning’s surprise will either be a hit, or a dismal failure. I’m betting on the former. Hope the clothes I laid out for her fit. It was the best I could do to match Meryl Streep’s wardrobe at the camp scene. When she sees my commitment to the idea, it’s going to be good. I’m in it with her. This Robert Redford get-up is cool. I’m channeling the adventurer his character was in the film. The dark shirt, khaki pants, and sturdy boots selling my intentions. But the best prop is the old victrola perched to play my selections for the night. The soundtrack from the movie.
A delicate hand draws back the tent flap and she steps out. For a few beats I have a hard time putting words to feeling. I’m stunned by her beauty and the perfect picture of femininity that stands before me.
“Belinda. You look amazing. Better than amazing.”
She smooths the pockets of the ankle-length skirt and pops the collar of the white shirt. A wide African-print shawl wraps around her shoulders and flat high boots complete the look. Blonde hair is piled loosely on top of her head. Strands escaping confinement, making it look like she’s from another era.
But what’s most striking is the lack of makeup. Her face freshly washed and naked in the moonlight. I love it. There’s a natural blush to her cheeks, and her rosy hued soft lips match.
She looks my outfit over. I do a slow turn. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re the loveliest man I’ve ever known,” she says, taking me in an embrace.
