Chapter One: The Last Guest

The storm had washed out the road to the lodge, and every other guest had cancelled.

Kayla Steyn stood on the deck of Umlilo Bush Lodge in the warm Lowveld dusk, a glass of wine in her hand and the whole place to herself. Below her, the river ran fat and brown with rain. Somewhere out in the dark, a hyena whooped. She had booked this weekend for two, back when there had been two of her. Now there was just her, a king-size bed, and a black lace set in her suitcase that nobody was going to see.

“You’re the one who didn’t cancel.”

She turned. The man leaning in the doorway of the bar was the kind of handsome that should come with a warning label. Dark hair, a little too long, pushed back off his forehead. Stubble along a hard jaw. A black T-shirt that strained across his chest and arms that had clearly carried a lot more than cocktail trays. His eyes were dark brown and amused.

“Nico,” he said. “I own the place. Chef’s gone home, the rangers are stuck on the other side of the river, and it’s just you and me until Monday. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Kayla said.

His eyes moved over her slowly. Her blonde hair loose down her back. The thin white sundress that clung to her slim waist and stopped well above the knee. Her bare, tanned legs.

“Good,” Nico said. “Then come and have a drink with me.”