Demola Adenuga stood in the middle of the lodge, watching the
giant-screen television with the crowd of fifty or so people who'd
gathered around for the big event. On screen four women, all tall, all
pretty.
The Angels were at it again.
Demola shifted his
gaze from the giant picture to the small family that stood directly in
front of the screen. At least there was a halfway decent reason behind
this madness. Like most of the other stunts the Angels women had
performed in the last three years, this one was a fund-raiser. The
recipient was the ten-year-old boy sitting in the wheelchair front and
center, flanked protectively by his parents. He needed a bone marrow
transplant and his family had no insurance to cover the cost.
Demola
studied the boy. He was small for his age, pale and looked as if they
couldn't start the procedure any time soon. But he was a cute kid with a
killer smile and there was a sparkle in his eyes that said he was
living this minute for all it was worth.
He shifted his
attention back to the screen. In total surround sound, the whir of the
chopper's blades filled the room and vibrated beneath their feet. The
scream of the wind howled in their ears. It was probably quieter in the
damned helicopter. But even over the steady thump in the floor, he could
feel his heart pounding, hear it over the roar of the helicopter
blades.
At the helicopter's open door, Tomilola Adeyemi. Or as
she knew herself, Tomilola Daniels, the woman he'd come to bring home
came down from the helicopter. She looked back at the camera, her
sensuous lips smiling widely, her light brown eyes sparkling with
excitement and her long curly black hair blowing in the wind.
His
breath caught in his throat and the same sensation he'd gotten the
first time he'd seen her picture, not twenty-four hours ago, hit him
hard. It was a feeling not unlike one of his wild mustangs delivering a
hard kick to the gut. But this sensation was lower, harder and twice as
powerful. He wanted her. Like a stallion scenting a mare, he wanted her.
Irrational and startling. But undeniable.
And equally unwelcome.
Because
Wole Adenuga, just before he'd died, had made Demola promise he'd not
only bring Tomilola back to her father's estate, but he'd make sure she
had everything that was good and wonderful and bright. And no matter how
you saddled that horse, an ex-con didn't fit into any of those
categories.
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