Authors: Tamara Cape
FOURTEEN
At last Kerry could wear the one dressy outfit she had brought to Zimbabwe. It was a figure-hugging LBD, short and sleeveless, in which she felt cool and comfortable. When they had eaten, she ironed it to remove the travel kinks. After showering she slipped it on in the privacy of her room.
After so many days in shorts, it felt strange but satisfying in a feminine way to
wear a dress again. She was surprised at how well she looked. Her body had recovered from the ravages of fever. Her skin had regained its tautness and healthy bloom. Her tan was marked: it would never match Chad’s, but it was sufficient to make her look quite different from when she had stepped off the plane two weeks before.
She took extra care with her make-up, paying special attention to her eyes.
She applied shadow, false lashes and a double coat of glossy black mascara. Was there too much shadow? The room’s low-intensity lighting made judgement difficult. A favourite deep-red lipstick completed the transformation.
Kerry enjoyed her new look. She loved using make-up; yet she had proved over the holiday that she
could live without it. Chad had seen her at her lowest ebb, fever-racked in the hospital ward. Now he would see her at her most glam – she smiled as she wondered what his reaction would be.
He was unable to take his eyes off her.
“I must be in the wrong lodge,” he said. “You’re not the woman I arrived with.”
Arms outstretched, Kerry pirouetted,
her eyes sparkling with pleasure. At the same time she took in his outfit: primrose linen jacket over open-necked flowery Hawaiian shirt. Miami Vice in darkest Africa. He looked exactly what he was: hunky, successful, confident – a man at home in the sun and comfortable with his image. How many Englishmen possessed the panache to wear a primrose jacket? Chad had the tanned looks and charisma to carry it off to devastating effect.
She felt colour rush to her face as his eyes hungrily ran up her body and back down to her legs.
“Nice,” he said, giving her his wickedest smile. “You look good enough to eat.”
Kerry accepted the compliment gracefully.
“You don’t look bad yourself.”
“We could . . . ah . . . make some excuse,” he said, taking half a step forward.
With that one movement, the flirtation had taken on a deadly seriousness. Kerry found herself teetering on the brink. She longed to rush into his arms, feel his lips on hers, his strength crushing her against his manly body. The sight of him now, aroused and wanting her, made her legs weak and melted her insides. Her breath came in short, almost painful gasps. She now knew beyond doubt that she loved this man. She wanted to feel his hands arousing her willing flesh while hers explored the tight curls visible at his shirt front, and down where . . .
One step was all it would take.
Yet, with a sense almost of disbelief, she knew it was a step she could not make.
***
While Chad paced about waiting for the Olsens’ knock, Kerry did some quick soul searching. What was wrong with her? Why did her head keep on overruling what her body craved? If he were to close the gap between them, she would be lost. But he did not. Instead he averted his eyes and brooded silently.
The result was that by the time they reached the casino the barriers were up again. Chad stood by himself at the roulette tables. He didn
’t play but watched the croupiers and gamblers at work. Per left the women and joined Chad. He changed money into chips and bet at the next play. Camilla played the slot machines and Kerry stood with her.
They talked about their homes and work. Camilla liked Johannesburg, especially its climate. Heavy coats were now things of the past, snow seen only on TV. Quite a change for a girl reared in northern Europe. She gave Kerry her home telephone number and insisted she call on her next stopover in the city.
The Dane turned her head, her blonde hair brushing against her shoulders. Her blue eyes left Kerry and focused on Chad, an interested spectator at a roulette table across the room.
“You and Chad seem made for one another. But you have problems
. It was plain to see on the river and again now.”
It was a shock to be found out, to know others had noticed. Kerry smiled to cover her embarrassment, unable to decide whether to cut Camilla short.
“I am fortunate,” the Dane went on regardless. “Per is a good man – honest, hard working, and we enjoy each other physically. Surely you and Chad can have no problem in bed? This is a place made for romance . . .”
She broke off when she saw Kerry
’s shocked expression.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I was forgetting the English are not as open as Scandinavians in discussing sexual matters.”
Was Camilla simply curious, or could she have a deeper motive? Kerry chided herself – why did she suspect
every
woman who came into Chad’s orbit of having designs on him? And why should she care if they did? The warmth in the other woman’s eyes seemed so genuine. And if you couldn’t talk freely in a holiday setting, where on earth could you?
Kerry covered her embarrassment with a short laugh.
“Camilla, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but you’re absolutely right . . . Chad and I don’t have a problem in bed – because we’ve never been there together.”
The Dane
’s face registered shock. “Ah,
voila!
” She kissed the tips of her fingers in the French fashion. “That explains everything.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“The smouldering looks, the vibes you both give out. He watches you all the time you are not looking. You are like a tiger and tigress at their physical peak, desperate to mate but finding the bars of a cage between them – a barrier they cannot breach.”
Kerry could not contain her laughter. “Imaginative – I
’ll give you that.”
“Look at the other women – casting sly glances his way.
All aware of Chad as the best looking male in the room. That jacket – amazing! What a handsome guy.” Camilla gave Kerry’s hand a quick squeeze. “Tear down those bars.”
Camilla turned away and began feeding the slots. Kerry wandered off to try her luck at roulette. As she exchanged money for chips, Chad appeared at her side.
“Dangerous game. Be careful.”
She bristled. After ignoring her since their arrival, why did he have to appear now giving out advice as if she were a first-timer?
Kerry was not a serious gambler. Her method at roulette was to bet on a few easily remembered numbers, same numbers every spin. During past visits to casinos she had managed to hold her own or win a little. However tonight nothing was going right. After five spins all her chips were gone. Determined to win them back, she changed more money. But determination, she soon found, was not enough. These chips too dwindled away.
She felt miserable. She had thrown away hard-earned money needlessly. She wished she had stayed with Camilla and played the slots. She was about to retire to lick her wounds when Chad reappeared at her shoulder.
“How much have you lost?”
“Thirty.”
She braced herself for a rebuke. Damn him! It was none of his business what she did with her money. She could spend it or throw it away stupidly if she liked.
Chad surprised her. Instead of the expected tongue-lashing, his measured voice asked, “Have you noticed that eight of the last nine winning numbers have been Red?”
Kerry shook her head. She had lost interest in the table.
He said, “Gives you a chance of recouping your money.”
“On Black?”
“Once the Red run is over.
These things have a habit of evening up.”
“Chad, I don
’t want to play any more –”
“Look, it
’s changed to Black.” He pointed to the spinning wheel where the ball had dropped on 8. “Now’s the time to play. Remember the saying: Who dares wins.”
“I already dared and lost.”
“You relied on blind luck, no system or timing. He’s spinning. Quick!”
Kerry sighed, opened her bag. “Can you guarantee this will work?” She tossed money onto the roulette table and told the croupier, “On Red.”
“
Black!
” Chad barked. “She wants it on Black.”
The croupier looked at Kerry for confirmation. She nodded and he took the money and placed a plastic chip on Black. The ball dropped.
“Good call,” the croupier said with a smile.
Kerry was surprised.
Her first successful bet of the night. It felt good, even if it had been Chad who’d pushed her into it. The croupier placed her winning chip beside her bet. As Kerry reached out for the two chips, Chad put a restraining hand on her arm.
“Let them ride,” he instructed. “And put on that other fiver I saw in your purse as well.”
Kerry swung round to face him. “Are you crazy?”
“You won a bet – big deal
. You’re still down twenty-five bucks. How do you propose to get that back? Stick with me, girl, and you have a chance.”
“Hang on, you’re asking . . . telling . . .
ordering
me to risk more. That’s forty lost if it goes down.”
“Think positive
ly . . . think Black – we need only two more. If . . .
when
it wins, you’ll be in profit and can buy a round of drinks.”
Kerry did a quick mental calculation. She had ten already on Black. Five more from her purse would make fifteen. If it won, the fifteen became thirty. Another win and the thirty became sixty – giving her a twenty profit on the night. If – and it was a big if – the next two spins were won by Black numbers. It was asking a lot, but Chad’s plan seemed her only way of salvaging something from the evening. Should it go down, which she fully expected, the loss would hardly break her.
Her deliberations had taken time and she only got the additional money down on the table at the last second. She felt sudden tension grip her body as she watched the wheel. The winning number didn’t register in her brain – all she saw was its colour. Black! She felt a wave of relief. Chad gave her his broadest grin and winked. With her winning chips, Kerry now had a respectable pile on Black and she was sorely tempted to quit.
“I can’t take th
is tension,” she told Chad.
His voice was calm.
“Three choices. Walk away now, in which case you’re ten down on the night. Or take out part and leave the rest; if it wins you’ll be all square again. Or leave it all on one last spin.”
“Can the Black run continue?”
“Yes. It’s fifty-fifty.”
Not quite, Kerry thought. Zero was neither a Black nor a Red number – which lengthened the odds slightly. The croupier picked up the ball and spun it round the wheel.
She had to make a quick decision.
“What would you do?”
“Let it ride. If it wins, you’re in profit. If it loses, at least you got close.”
My money, my decision, Kerry thought. Her hand hovered over the pile of chips. Logic told her to take off some of the bet so she wouldn’t lose the lot. Then the croupier said, “No more bets,” and it was too late for Kerry to change her bet. It was all or nothing.
She forced herself to watch. The ball slowed and, without any of the usual skips and hops, plunged straight into 32. Red. Kerry closed her eyes. Her heartbeat must have doubled over the last few minutes. Close, but no cigar.
S
he felt her shoulders gripped by powerful hands. The scent of Chad’s tangy aftershave invaded her nostrils. What the hell was going on? Instead of the expected commiserations, he was laughing and congratulating her. Kerry opened her eyes, brushing off his hands and rounded on him.
“I lost, didn’t I? Chad, sometimes your humour is very trying.” Kerry was still convinced that Clarence
had not found its way into her bed by accident.
A hush fell over the table. Other punters stopped to listen. Even the croupier paused and stared at her in
surprise, the whites of his eyes showing big against his black face.
Chad Lindsay said nothing, but directed her attention to the wheel by pointing a finger.
Kerry turned her head. The ball lay in 15. Black. She had won. She could scarcely believe it.
“It was in 32 . . . I saw it drop,” she stammered, at once ashamed and embarrassed by the scene she had caused.
“Bounced out. Often happens,” Chad explained.
“Chad, I’m sorry.” Her legs felt weak. The other players went back about their business. Kerry felt foolish. She had caused a scene over nothing. Whatever would Chad think of her? “I owe you an apology and my thanks,” she told him. “Please cash in my chips. I’ll round up
Per and Camilla and we’ll have that drink.”
His hand caught her as she moved past him. Far from being upset, Chad looked relaxed and happy for the first time that night.
“You did well,” he said. “Kept your nerve.”