Pocketful of Diamonds

Prologue

A

fter an entire day of mining, Ian Miller’s back tightened, his legs cramped, but his soul was full. Finally, the funds from the diamond mine had provided not only enough to build a school and clinic, but now he might even be able to add a hospital for the local villages. He still had a long way to go. The clinic was not staffed at the moment, but that would change soon. The school needed more books, but attendance was full. These children were the first generation of Njamba inhabitants to be educated. For the tiny village in Sierra Leone, it was a giant stepping stone.

The villagers had been hesitant at first, but Ian, along with his friend Gerard, had persuaded them that it would cause no harm and that they could learn about the outside world.

Ian didn’t seek to change them. He considered them to be generous and happy. Though their lives were simple and often harsh, they were spirited. Not once during his youthful wandering across the globe had he found hearts so genuine. It was the reason he stayed, the reason he’d bought land and tried to make something special with his dwindling travel funds.

Tonight, though exhausted from hard labor, he would celebrate with his new friends. He’d come to think of them as his extended family over the past year. The new doctor would arrive tomorrow and many would get the care that they needed and never had access to. Finally, he’d found a purpose in life, a reason to put away his suitcase for a while.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long orange fingers through the white clouds, the musicians drummed a steady rhythm, calling all to its low, repetitive beat. Soon, many gatherers drifted out of the canteen to meander along the edge of the winding brown river that hugged the village. Some built a fire for light. It certainly wasn’t for warmth. The constant heat and soupy humidity meant no one ever had to worry about winter’s chill.

Gerard pressed a bottle of beer into Ian’s hands. They joined the others near the fire as the first of the dancers circled the growing flames.

One of the matrons pulled Ian into the circle, encouraging him to participate.

“We celebrate because of you,” she said.

With such a statement, he couldn’t turn her down. He could have argued that they had worked alongside him in the mine and helped to build the school and clinic. But instead, he would dance. While he wasn’t sure of the steps, it seemed simple enough to figure out. However, he would leave chanting to them. He still hadn’t picked up the native language they spoke in ceremony and song.

Ian joined in, one of the girls taking him underwing. After ten minutes, he nearly danced like a local. At least, that was what he thought. No cameras existed here to prove him wrong. But his limbs seemed to keep time, and it felt almost natural.

Ian had never felt so free, so alive. He danced as if he were an extension of the drums.

When the last of the sun had reached the horizon, he took a moment to enjoy it. Colors threaded through each other as if they were also dancing, not wanting to give way to the night.

That’s when he saw her.

Ian wasn’t sure if it was a person at first. Her form shifted in the settling light as she walked toward him, her body haloed by the escaping sun. Her blonde hair reflected the light that surrounded her.

As she approached, he wondered at her sudden appearance. Strangers would pass by the village every so often, but none of them the blonde, fair-skinned variety. And none were quite so mesmerizing.

Some of the others noticed her, and soon the drums quieted. All eyes tracked her.

She neared Ian and looked around. “I seem to have attracted attention. I didn’t mean to stop the party.” Her voice surprised him. It wasn’t as soft and effervescent as he would have expected. Instead, she exuded strength and confidence, not minding that she was an oddity on display here.

“I parked down the road. I wasn’t sure if the narrow dirt path leading to the village would accommodate the four-by-four I rented.”

Now that she was closer, he could see her features that the sun had disguised before. On the taller side, she came up to his nose. Her honey-flecked brown eyes were forthright and took in her surroundings with a quick glance. From her eyes he followed down her average nose to her pink lips, which were a bit on the thin side. But when she smiled, they transformed into something he desperately longed to kiss; a sappy sentiment he never thought before of anyone.

She looked expectantly at him, and he realized she had asked him a question while he was staring at her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t catch what you said.”

She smiled again, and he thought her perfect. “I was hoping I could find lodging and a bite to eat. I strayed off the beaten path and it’s growing late.”

“We have plenty of food for you at the canteen,” he said. There was no lodging, but he could make something work. Anyone here would open their homes for a stranger in need. “I can help you find a place to stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling again.

If she kept that up, she’d find herself tucked in at his cabin with him beside her.

“My name is Ian Miller. I own the mine across the river.” He glanced around him to find they were the center of attention. “And this is the village of Njamba.”

“I’m Gwen,” she said, smiling at the onlookers. “Again, I’m sorry if I interrupted a party. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. I could hear the drums from the road.”

Ian turned and bade the celebration to continue. It wouldn’t do for Gwen to feel out of place. Njamba was very welcoming once curiosity wore off.

As the drummers began and the dancers resumed, Ian explained, “We are celebrating. The doctor for the new clinic will arrive tomorrow. But you must be hungry. Let’s go to the—”

Gwen squeaked, jumping forward. He grabbed her arms to steady her, not sure what had frightened her. He looked down to find Harry.

“It’s okay,” Ian said. “It’s just Harry. He won’t bite unless you’re a salad.”

Gwen looked down at the pygmy hippo and took a breath. She righted herself and composed her features, seeming upset that she took fright of the little hippo. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit jumpy. I’ve never been to Sierra Leone before, and I guess . . . well, everything is so new and different. I didn’t know what to expect. I certainly wasn’t expecting Harry.”

Harry heard his name and grinned up at her, pressing his head to her bare leg. Ian tried not to be jealous of Harry, but he wished he could switch places. Her shorts were modest, but they allowed for a stretch of leg that he could imagine wrapped . . .

No, he wasn’t going to go there. He’d only torment himself. She was only passing through. She’d be gone by tomorrow.

“He likes you.” Harry had the right of it. Ian liked Gwen, felt a pull to her that he had never experienced before. He chalked it up to being hungry. “Let’s go find Harry some food before he tests out your sandals. We can get something for you too.”

She laughed at Harry’s eagerness and followed Ian to the Happy Hippo canteen, named after Harry.

For the rest of the night, they talked, danced, and laughed until the final embers slowly died and the villagers had all walked home, leaving Ian and Gwen alone.

She was fascinating, and with each word, she weaved a spell that he couldn’t fight, didn’t want to fight. He was desperate to know if the feeling was one-sided.

And when had he ever been desperate?

He was losing his mind. There was no other explanation for it. Maybe heat stroke?

There was one way to test it. He hadn’t found her a place to stay, hadn’t wanted to. He was greedy and wanted her all to himself. So, he stood and offered his hand. She took it without hesitation. Had she the slightest pause, he would have let her use his cabin while he took the couch in the office.

But she didn’t, and now they were heading down the unlit path to his hut. Ian silently cursed himself for not remembering to bring a flashlight. Even the shotgun would have been nice. The sounds of the nocturnal animals were only comforting from behind secure doors and windows.

However, there was one advantage of it being so dark. Gwen had to hold on to him to keep from getting lost. He did not mind that at all.

“How far away are we?” she asked, her body pressed up against his. “It sounds like there are animals a foot away.”

“The sound is deceiving.” At least he hoped it was. He seriously didn’t know, but there was no sense in scaring her. Just the rustling in the underbrush had him ready to run. “We’ll be to my place in a minute.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Long enough to memorize the trail. Don’t worry.”

“I’m won’t. I trust you.”

She shouldn’t. She didn’t know him or what was running through his mind.

“This is going to sound crazy,” she said, “but I feel as though I’ve known you longer than just a few hours. Yet, I know hardly anything about you.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy at all.” He had been thinking the exact same thing.

When they reached his cabin, he opened the door and let her in. “Stay here while I light the lantern.”

Ian fumbled for the matches on the small kitchen table off to the right. His place was small, not much bigger than a single bedroom. He was able to add a tiny kitchenette. Unfortunately, there was no electricity or running water, something he was hoping to add soon.

Striking the match, he lit the lantern, casting a yellow glow through the room. Gwen still stood near the door. Her gaze wandered around the sparse room, tripping on the bed draped with a white net around it.

Once again, he wasn’t sure if he’d judged the situation correctly. She had him so turned around that he wasn’t sure of much anymore, not even his sanity.

“You can have the cabin tonight,” he said. He hated hearing the hesitancy in his voice. It wasn’t like him. “There is a shower out back. I can show you how to work it in the morning.” When she didn’t say anything, he knew for certain he had misjudged the situation. Ian walked to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure to lock the door behind me.”

Before he could leave, she said, “Wait.”

He waited.

Silently, he watched as a war played across her face. He wanted to touch her, ease the worry lines from her forehead.

She looked up at him. “I don’t want you to go.” A small smile slipped onto her lips, giving her the strong features he’d met her with.

Relief flooded through him. While he didn’t want to force the moment, he at least could relax and soak it in. It was freeing to have her verbalize what he wanted to know, but he needed just a little more.

“If you don’t want me to go, then what do you want?” he asked softly.

She stepped toward him, reaching her hand out to touch his chest. “Stay with me tonight.”

He cupped her face in his hands, staring into her eyes before lowering his mouth to hers. He did so patiently, placing small kisses to the corners of her lips before taking them fully. He pulled away slightly to look her into her eyes. “You can stop anytime you want.” He wanted to reassure her. It wasn’t like they weren’t both adults, but she was alone in a foreign land. He wanted her to feel safe with him.

She brought his head back down to her. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, touching her lips back to his.

It was his undoing.

He moaned as her tongue tentatively flicked his lips. Taking advantage, he opened his mouth and allowed her exploration as they moved together. Her hands found their way under his shirt. They ran up his back, his tired muscles now tight under her touch. He had to lie down before he seized completely.

Slowly, he backed up, bringing Gwen with him until the back of his legs reached the bed. She smiled as she pushed against his chest, sending him down on the bed.

He looked up at her, returning her smile. “Care to join me?”

She laughed and tumbled into bed next to him. He reached over to touch her still-turned-up lips.

“I love your smile.”

She ducked away. Was she embarrassed? He couldn’t figure her out. She commanded such strength, yet showed a soft underbelly. If he had more than one night with her, he would discover her secrets. But he had a feeling that once she left Njamba, he would never see her again. Ignoring the gnawing at his stomach, he promised to take whatever Gwen offered him and cherish it.

He would cherish her.

Ian turned onto his side, allowing his hand to drift along her curves, dipping at her waist and settling temporarily on her hip.

They were both far too clothed. As his mouth played with hers, his fingers slowly removed article after article until they were flesh against flesh, her soft skin hot against his. He wanted to go slow, savor her, but with the way she touched him, all he could think about was taking her hard and fast, claiming her as his own, repeating it until she knew it, until she never wanted to leave.

His reaction to Gwen scared him. He wondered if she had drugged him. Ian was intoxicated, and it was all because of her. Her skin, fire against his. Her mouth, swollen under his. Her sweet-sounding moans had him grasping the sheets.

When Gwen shifted her hips, rubbing against him, he stopped thinking. His mind blanked into a nothingness.

And yet there was something at the back of his mind. Something that knocked incessantly, but he ignored it. How could he not? Gwen had wrapped her legs around him, and whatever had tried to get his attention before was now silenced.

It wasn’t

until the next morning that his mind assembled again, and he found himself alone in bed. Gwen was gone.

Sprinting from the bed, he yanked on shorts and a shirt and flew down the trail to where Gwen said she’d parked her car. He found the place, with tire tracks as evidence, but no vehicle. No Gwen.

Ian sat at the side of the road and gathered his thoughts. He knew she would leave but had thought she would say goodbye. Between making love over and over, they had talked throughout the night. It wasn’t until she finally fell asleep in the small morning hours, curled in his arms, that he’d slept soundly, not hearing her leave.

After all they had shared, he had no idea how to contact her; he didn’t even know her last name.

She was truly gone.

It felt as though an appendage he’d once counted on was ripped from him.

Ian stood and wandered to the office. There was no sense dwelling on her; it would only torture him. He’d have enough tortured nights ahead of him, he was sure. But while Gwen might own his nights for a time, he still owned his days. There was too much work that still needed to be done.

When Ian arrived at the office, which was no bigger than a trailer, he found Gerard standing by the safe, peering in.

Ian sank into the chair behind the desk. “We should move those diamonds today.”

Gerard swung the safe door open wide. “Too late.” He flicked a scrap of paper in front of Ian.

Ian looked down to read the feminine scrawl.

I’m sorry.