C2: Breakfast in the sky

The beach house in South Africa sat open to the sea, dressed in quiet African luxury, with carved animal heads on the walls, woven rugs on the floor, and dark wood furniture that made the whole place feel rich without trying too hard. Derek stood near the window, a tall, well-built man in his late fifties with silver at his temples and a face that looked calm even when his mind was working fast. He held a magazine loosely in one hand, but his attention stayed fixed on the photograph on the page.

Elias Van der Merwe was dancing with a woman Derek did not know.

She was not one of the usual polished women who drifted around men like Elias. There was something about her that caught the eye right away, something softer and stronger at the same time. Derek looked at the picture for a moment longer, then turned the page and looked back again.

“That one,” he said, tapping the magazine with one finger. “Find out everything you can about her.”

On the sofa behind him, Mandla looked up with a tired sigh. He was younger, leaner, with his father’s sharp eyes and none of his patience. “Since when am I your private investigator?”

Derek shot him a flat look.

Mandla lifted both hands in surrender. “Fine. Relax.”

Derek did not bother answering. He was already thinking ahead, already sorting the variables in his head. The woman was not the real story. Not yet. The Botswana bid was still the real issue. Elias was the obstacle. Everything else was just information waiting to be used.

Mandla leaned back into the sofa and glanced at the magazine again. “So what is this really about?”

Derek’s eyes stayed on the photograph. “She is different.”

That was all he said.

Then, after a short pause, Mandla nodded toward the table. “What about the bid for the diamond mine in Botswana?”

Derek’s expression sharpened at once. That was the real business. The woman was only one more piece on the board, and he wanted to know where she fit before he made his next move.

*_*_*

Sleep eluded Zara.

Even when she managed to drift off, it did not last. Elias’s face kept showing up in her mind, the way he had looked at her when they danced, the heat of his hand at her waist, the kiss on the terrace that had gone on too long to be called harmless.

By morning, she was irritated with herself.

She kept telling herself it had been one night, one kiss, one reckless moment she should already have put behind her. But that was easier to say than to do, because her mind was still there, still circling him.

By the time Zara’s phone buzzed later that morning, she had almost convinced herself the night had been nothing more than a strange kind of dream.

Five minutes from now. Van der Merwe building. Rooftop. Come alone.

No signature. No explanation.

Of course it was him.

She stared at the screen for a second, then got up, got dressed, and left before she could talk herself out of it.

The Van der Merwe building rose over Lusaka like it belonged to another world. Glass, steel, polished floors, quiet money. Zara crossed the lobby with her shoulders straight, refusing to let the looks from the reception area or the security desk get to her.

At the counter, a young woman looked up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Elias Van der Merwe.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes.”

Before she could say anything else, a voice came from behind her.

“You may let her through.”

Zara turned.

Elias stood a few feet away, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tie loose, looking as though he had already spent half the morning in meetings that had gone longer than they should have. He looked calm, but not relaxed. That was part of the problem with him. He always looked like he had everything under control.

He nodded once to the receptionist, then looked at Zara.

“Come with me.”

That was all he said.

She followed him into the elevator.  .

No sooner had the elevator doors closed than Elias reached for her, pulled her against him, and kissed her.

“Good morning,” he said against her mouth.

Zara came up breathless and glared at him. “You could have used words, you know. Like a normal person.”

He chuckled and traced her still-moist lips with his thumb. “I prefer my way. It says what I mean better.”

Then he tilted his head, brushed her lips again, and stepped back just as the elevator doors opened.

“Let’s save that for later,” he said.

Zara’s heart flipped at the heated look in his eyes, and she hated that it did.

He handed her the folder instead of flirting.

Her proposal.

She stared at it. She had sent it after midnight, half convinced he would not even look at it until much later, if at all.

“You read it already?”

“I did.”

That surprised her.

He handed her a cup of coffee next. “You look like you need it.”

She took it, suspicious. “Bad night’s sleep?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Hardly slept.”

“I slept like a baby,” he said.

She glared at him. “Of course you did.”

He laughed softly, then leaned forward in his seat. One hand rested lightly on her exposed thigh.

Zara jerked back like she had touched fire. Heat spread through her so fast it made her shift in her seat, frustrated already.

Elias only smiled. “Why fight the inevitable?”

“Fuck off,” she muttered.

That made him laugh properly.

Zara dropped her gaze and buried herself in the contract, trying to focus on the revisions instead of the man sitting too close to her.

A little later, the helicopter landed at Crested Crane Private Airport.

“We are here,” Elias said.

He helped her out, and when Zara looked up, she saw the jet waiting on the tarmac, his company name printed neatly on the side.

She stared at it in disbelief. “You really like living large, huh?”

He stepped close enough for his breath to brush her ear. “Welcome to my world.”

The heat of it slid over her skin and made her go still for a second.

He guided her toward the jet with one hand at the small of her back, and Zara had the absurd thought that being led like this should bother her more than it did.

“You know this would be much easier for you if you fought it a little less,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes, but she let him buckle her in anyway.

Thre breakfast spread was almost ridiculous.

Fresh fruit, eggs, pastries, juice, coffee, and little covered dishes that looked far too fancy for a morning flight. Zara took a bite here and there while Elias talked business, his voice calm, his attention steady, as if discussing numbers and schedules in a private jet before breakfast was the most normal thing in the world.

He asked her about her ideas for the gala. She answered him properly at first, then started to relax as the conversation moved back and forth between work and the kind of teasing that kept slipping in at the edges.

“You already sound like you have it planned in your head,” she said.

“I usually do.”

“That must be nice. Carrying the whole world around like that.”

He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “You think I carry the whole world?”

“You act like it.”

That earned her a small smile.

When Zara finished eating, she leaned back in her seat and watched him.

There was no denying it. Elias was eye candy. A working man, yes, but still eye candy. The rolled sleeves, the strong hands, the way he handled his coffee, the way his face changed when he concentrated on something, all of it made it very hard for her to look away.

Unfortunately, he looked up right then.

His grey eyes caught hers and held.

Smouldering. Intense. Too steady.

Zara felt her face heat almost instantly. She looked away fast, pretending to be far more interested in the window than she actually was.

A few seconds later, she closed her eyes instead, hoping that would make things less awkward.

It did not.

Elias noticed the pretending right away, and the soft chuckle that left him only made it worse.

After a while, the hostess came by with a blanket, clearly noticing that Zara had drifted off.

“I can cover her,” she said quietly.

Elias looked up from his work. “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

The hostess paused, then nodded and stepped back.

Elias set his papers aside and rose from his seat. He moved to Zara without making a sound, knelt beside her, and covered her carefully. His hand lingered for a second as he smoothed the blanket over her shoulder, his fingers brushing the exposed skin of her arm.

Zara’s skin was warm under his touch, soft and smooth, and he felt it even more than he probably should have.

“You are such an enigma,” he said quietly.