her forehead. “Terrible, thanks.”
She disentangled herself from the sleeping bag as he started toward the jeep.
“Do you need to stretch your legs, or can you wait?”
She took his question as euphemism for bathroom break. “I can wait.”
“Good, because we need to get moving—I already let you sleep too long.”
He climbed into the jeep beside her, and the weight of the vehicle shifted. He secured the rifle on the dash and folded down the spattered windshield.
Brandt started the ignition and the diesel engine purred to life. He began to reverse from their spot beneath the trees. Swinging the wheel around, he checked the GPS and set a course directly perpendicular from the river. Dalilah saw him glance at his watch. Tension whispered through her.
Sharp grass stalks clicked and rustled under the carriage as they negotiated the space between trees and already temperatures were increasing. Dalilah glanced at Brandt’s profile, taking her first proper study of him in the unforgiving light of dawn.
He had a fighter’s face. The bridge of his nose had a bump, as if it had been broken more than once, and he had a fine scar across his jaw. He was not handsome, but arresting—there was something mesmerizing about the broad strokes and aggression of his features. This was a man who wouldn’t shy away from confrontation, who’d physically stand up for what he believed, or wanted.
His mouth was also powerful—wide, well-defined lips, the lines bracketing them etched deep. She liked the character in his face, a rugged map of his past experience. The memory of the taste of him, the sensation of the feather-soft brush of those powerful lips against hers filled her mind and Dalilah swallowed, her gaze lowering to his strong neck muscles that flared into broad shoulders which she knew from experience were strong and hard like iron. Dalilah glanced at his hands on the wheel. Firm, sure. Big. Knuckles also scarred.
She knew the palms of those hands were rough, and his fingers callused, but that his touch could be as gentle as he was dexterous. This was a physical man who spent a lot of his life outdoors, a man shaped, most likely, by wilderness, the sun, the space and freedom. And violence.
Dalilah wondered again about what he’d said about killing people, about how he knew her brother. He could feel her studying him, she was sure of it. But he didn’t glance her way. The sky turned soft gold as the first rays of sun crept over the land. Heat and humidity peaked instantly. She loosened her shirt, feeling thirst.
“Why a lion?”
Now he looked at her. “What?”
“Your tattoo.”
He gave a soft snort. “My African name—Tautona. That’s what the locals call me. It means old lion.”
“Why an old lion?”
A wry smile twisted over his lips. “Guess they figured I’m like those scarred old males that have been ousted from their pride and live alone on the fringes of the veldt. Have to hunt all by themselves—no females to do the job for them.”
“Is it true?”
He shot her another glance, and the brackets around his mouth deepened, but he said nothing.
“Where are we going?” she said finally.
“First, west. Then north, then southwest.”
“I mean, what is the plan, our destination? How long is it going to take?”
He inhaled, his grip firming on the wheel, as if irritated by having to explain things.
“Look, it might help to share the plan,” she said. “I helped you back at the river, remember? You might need me again. We made a good team last night.”
A muscle began to pulse at his jaw. And when he didn’t bother to dignify her with a reply, she lowered her voice and said irritably, “Brandt—”
He muttered something in Afrikaans she couldn’t understand, then said, “I want as much distance as possible between us and the Tsholo, okay? Then we turn northward to find a route up onto a plateau. Once up on the plateau we’ll head for a paved road, hopefully lose tracks while driving south along the tarmac for a while, then we’ll cut back into the bush and make for a safe place and phone your brother.” His tone was terse. “However, if by the time we reach the plateau tonight there is no sign of them following us, we might stop and rest for the night at an old airstrip I know, move again at first light.”
“How will we know if they’re following?”
“We should be able to get a good view of the land all the way to the river