Guarding the Princess - By Loreth Anne White Page 0,78
energy shifted.
“Go get Teep,” the headman barked at one of the younger men, suddenly all clipped business. He shot a glance at Brandt, then at Dalilah, then the huge rock—an apple of temptation.
“Teep,” he said quietly, while staring fixedly at the rock, “is my son. He works at the Botswana diamond mine. He has come back to the village to see his family.”
A tall and devastatingly handsome man who looked as though he’d been carved from ebony came striding toward them, Wusani scampering excitedly at his heels. He wore perfectly pressed khaki pants and a crisp white shirt. His black leather shoes had been polished to a high gloss.
His greeting, thankfully, was less traditional and brief. He took the ring from Dalilah, held it up to the light. His body went dead still, but Brandt could see the subtle shift in his muscles, the quickening of his pulse at his carotid. He swallowed and looked slowly at Dalilah, as if in disbelief.
“They don’t even have pink ones like this in South Africa.” His English was impeccable, British accented.
“Ten carats.” Dalilah said. “Cut and polished from a rough 21.35-carat gem mined from the Argyle mine in the East Kimberley region of Western Australia. It’s set in platinum. If you give us the jeep, spare gas, camping supplies and water, you can keep the diamond.”
“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Brandt whispered, pulling her aside.
“I’m doing what I want to. I want the jeep and I want to get out of here.”
Teep drew his father aside, and they conversed in low tones.
“Jesus Christ, Dalilah,” Brandt whispered. “You can’t give away a sultan’s ring like that—”
“Haroun can afford it, Brandt. Look at it this way, it’s buying my life. He’ll have to understand that. If he doesn’t, he has a problem. Besides, I’ll reimburse him.”
“What’s that thing worth anyway?”
“Two point five.”
“Million?”
She said nothing.
He stared at her, his brain reeling. “Dalilah, what decision, exactly, are you making here?
“Just leave me, okay!” she snapped, reading the deeper questions in his eyes. “It’s my decision, not yours.”
“That’s more money than these people will know what to do with.”
She raised her arm and swept it in a wide arc, taking in their surrounding village. “They need a new school. Those kids could do with shoes. That water tower needs to be replaced. They could install solar power, get hot water and electricity into their homes, increase their crops with better irrigation. More cows, another windmill, a new jeep, maybe even a secondary-education fund.”
He just stared at her. The group of men, including B.K., were now looking at her, too. More women were gathering nearby and the school kids were coming out. The whole damn village was coming to witness this event now.
Urgency exploded in him.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted, Brandt,” she said quietly, urgently. “I have wealth and I want to help.” Her eyes glittered with passion. “This continent is my home, and this is my dream.”
“This is more than just about the jeep and helping African villages, isn’t it?”
“This is about my life, Brandt,” she said quietly, “and what I want to do with it.”
A quiet rustling wildfire of hope ignited suddenly in Brandt—hope for something he didn’t even dare want to think about. Chief B.K. was approaching them, but Brandt’s brain had suddenly stalled and all he could do was stare at the princess.
“Teep says this is a good diamond,” B.K. announced.
“It’s a damn fine diamond,” Dalilah said.
“Why do you want to give us this stone? Is it stolen?”
She moistened her lips. “No, it’s not stolen. I want to give it to you because we need that jeep very badly, and because I can see your village needs new water tanks, and a new school, and a proper vegetable garden.”
He regarded her intently for several long beats.
“Well—is it a deal?” she said.
B.K. bowed, softly clapping his hands together in a sign of thanks. He followed this by making a sign of the cross for good measure.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank the Lord for this gift. You may take jeep, and all our petrol, and any supplies we can give. Teep will help you. Tell him what you need, and he will get the villagers to bring everything.”
“We’re in a hurry,” she said.
“Yes—we will be quick.”
Dalilah smiled triumphantly at Brandt, an expectant look in her face.
“I’m not saying thank-you,” he growled. “If Amal comes here, finds that ring...” He pointed after B.K., then swore and stalked off toward the jeep. She ran after him.