Demola Adenuga stood in the middle of the
lodge, watching the giant-screen television
with the crowd of fifty or so people who’d
gathered around for the big event. On screen
four women, all tall, all pretty.
The Angels were at it again.
Demola shifted his gaze from the giant
picture to the small family that stood directly
in front of the screen. At least there was a
halfway decent reason behind this madness.
Like most of the other stunts the Angels
women had performed in the last three years,
this one was a fund-raiser. The recipient was
the ten-year-old boy sitting in the wheelchair
front and center, flanked protectively by his
parents. He needed a bone marrow
transplant and his family had no insurance to
cover the cost.
Demola studied the boy. He was small for his
age, pale and looked as if they couldn’t start
the procedure any time soon. But he was a
cute kid with a killer smile and there was a
sparkle in his eyes that said he was living
this minute for all it was worth.
He shifted his attention back to the screen.
In total surround sound, the whir of the
chopper’s blades filled the room and vibrated
beneath their feet. The scream of the wind
howled in their ears. It was probably quieter
in the damned helicopter. But even over the
steady thump in the floor, he could feel his
heart pounding, hear it over the roar of the
At the helicopter’s open door, Tomilola
Adeyemi. Or as she knew herself, Tomilola
Daniels, the woman he’d come to bring home
came down from the helicopter. She looked
back at the camera, her sensuous lips
smiling widely, her light brown eyes sparkling
with excitement and her long curly black hair
blowing in the wind.
His breath caught in his throat and the same
s£nsat!on he’d gotten the first time he’d seen
her picture, not twenty-four hours ago, hit
him hard. It was a feeling not unlike one of
his wild mustangs delivering a hard kick to
But this s£nsat!on was lower, harder and
twice as powerful. He wanted her. Like a
stallion scenting a mare, he wanted her.
Irrational and startling. But undeniable.
And equally unwelcome.
Because Wale Adeyemi, just before he’d died,
had made Demola promise he’d not only
bring Tomilola back to her father’s estate,
but he’d make sure she had everything that
was good and wonderful and bright. And no
matter how you saddled that horse, an ex-
con didn’t fit into any of those categories.
To be continued
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