A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series) Read Online Free

he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin before dropping it on to his plate and standing up. ‘I’ve got a couple of things I need to do before we set off. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.’
    Half an hour later, Lacey discovered Tate pinned against the side of a pick-up truck with two fat paws pressed against his chest. He was laughing as a huge Rhodesian ridgeback gnawed at his fist with gentle jaws.
‘Stupid dog!’ he muttered. ‘Think you can beat me in a stand-up fight? No way!’
    The dog panted joyfully, not understanding the words, but loving the teasing tone in his master’s voice. His two back legs danced to keep him upright as the two of them tussled playfully for dominance.
‘Ready to roll?’ Tate asked as he spotted Lacey walking towards them. ‘Definitely. I’m looking forward to it.’ Lacey braced herself as almost eighty pounds of solid muscle came hurtling towards her.
     
‘Just ignore Jabu. He’s quite harmless.’
    ‘An animal lover herself, Lacey held out a passive hand for Jabu as he skidded to a halt in front of her. Tentatively, he sniffed at it first, then slurped it trustingly with his tongue. Tate was impressed. Here was a woman who understood animals. He liked that.
‘Jabu? That’s an unusual name.’
    ‘It’s Zulu. It means Rejoice.’ Tate hooked his thumb and forefinger into his mouth and whistled. Immediately, a second dog bounded into view. ‘This is Kaya. It means Restful, but she’s more stressful than restful, I’m afraid. She’s a bundle of energy. Never stops! I’m just waiting for the two of them to grow old and senile so they’ll just sleep all the time.’
    Tate waited while the two dogs jumped into the back of the pick-up before climbing into the driver’s seat alongside Lacey. With one glance in his rear view mirror to make sure they were both behaving themselves, he thrust the truck into gear and headed out into the bush. The cab windows were open to make the most of the cooling breeze.
‘I should have tied my hair back,’ said Lacey, brushing aside the wisps that tickled her face.
    Tate glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. She looked lovely sitting there with her shoulder-length hair blowing in the wind, her chin tilted towards the sun and her eyes half-closed against its light. At breakfast, he’d noticed a hint of jasmine when she came into the room. He could smell it now. Sweet. Sensual. A lovely, exotic perfume. He found it incredibly distracting and he jerked his eyes back to the track to clear his head of crazy thoughts.
‘Are they finished? The lodges.’
     
‘The construction work’s done. I’m just waiting for the bits and pieces
     
-paintings, pottery. The kind of stuff that’ll make them homely.’
    ‘Are they coming from the estate workers?’ Lacey liked the thought that wealthy tourists from all over the world would get the chance to see the local skills that rural Africa had to offer.
    ‘No. I’ve commissioned the works from a guy based in Johannesburg. He’s an internationally-renowned artist. The pottery’s imported from London.’
‘London! Why London? Why not use local crafts?’
    Tate swung the steering wheel round a giant granite kopje then took the path that led directly down to the river. ‘I’ve got to strike a balance between rustic and luxury. These lodges will cost a bomb to rent. I don’t want people thinking they’ve been short-changed on fixtures and fittings.’
    Lacey bit back the urge to argue. As far as she was concerned, the only people who’d been short-changed were the estate workers. Nothing was too good for the wealthy paying guests, so it seemed. Clearly, Tate hadn’t been joking when he’d said he wanted the lodges to make him loads of money. And it obviously didn’t matter how many ordinary people got ditched in the process.
    ‘Here we are,’ Tate slowed down and drew the truck to a halt in front of a stunning hillside complex. In the back,