Perfect Mistake

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Carlo studied Simone’s face. She was asleep, her features barely illuminated by the light that fell through the windows. She glowed, still flushed from their lovemaking the previous evening.

Being with her during the night had made it clear to him how lonely he’d been. For the past four years, his life and time had dragged on forever.

She stirred against him again, nestling her sweet ass to his hard cock. His erection had woken him up and he groaned. He had no idea what the time was, but outside the pitch black had slipped into a kinder hue of indigo blue. Simone was on her side, her knees pulled up. She’d always slept like that, and he had always cupped her perfectly.

Her hair spread over the pillow and his chest, and he pulled the strands away to expose her neck. Kissing her softly, he inhaled the sweet scent of her skin, which still held a trace of sex. With a sigh she leaned closer and he stroked her arm, letting his fingers wander to her side and to the hollow of her hip. He nibbled at her ear as he caressed her butt, wanting to wake her up.

She purred, and he slid his fingers over to her perfectly exposed pussy.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered in her ear, dropping a kiss on the curve of her shoulder, studying her face, and her lips, which showed traces of having been thoroughly kissed.

“A bit tender,” she murmured.

He slipped a finger between the lips of her sex, finding her wet and deliciously warm.

“Let me kiss it better,” he murmured, watching her lips as a smile tugged at the corners. He pushed his finger into her. She hadn’t opened her eyes, but stretched lazily and rolled onto her back, forcing him to extract his hand.

He breathed into her neck, relishing the scent of sleep still on her. She turned toward him and hooked a leg over his leg and hip as she opened her eyes, and kissed him on the mouth.

“What did you say?” she murmured against his neck, her hand stroking his chest.

He propped up on his elbow, his other hand on her hip, teasing the soft swell with his knuckles. “Let me kiss it better.”

“Hmm.” Her hand reached for him, and she clasped her fingers around his begging cock. “And what do you propose we do with this?”

The tightening of her hand around his cock made his innards pool inside and all he wanted was to lie back and let her suck him dry. She slowly teased him, her fingers unfurling to get a firmer grip, and he gasped. “Whatever pleases you, cara.”

She chuckled as she tugged the duvet away, shifting lower. She took him in her mouth, and he jerked as the hot, wet heat surrounded him. It was almost unreal to feel his cock engulfed in her mouth, and he gathered her hair from her face to watch her. He sighed deeply, the intense pleasure relaxing. She shot him a glance, arousing him more as her own pleasure in the act reflected in her eyes.

He wanted more, he wanted to plunder her mouth and claim this part of her like he had claimed her the night before. He exhaled in an attempt to gather his wits. When it came to sex he had a few rules, and he liked to stick to them for good reason. Once Simone was done with him he would need a nap. “Ladies first, Mona.”

She pulled away, but instead of looking at him she tipped her head, pointing her ear in the direction of the bedroom door. “Shit,” she whispered and sighed.

“What?”

“Sarah.” She closed her eyes, shaking with a quiet laugh. “Your more official welcome to parenthood.” She climbed over him to the edge of the bed, rubbing her pussy against him en route. “You might want to deal with that in the shower.”

He laughed as he grabbed her ass. “I was planning to eat you out for breakfast.”

She got off the bed, picked up and put on his shirt. “There’s plenty leftover pizza in the fridge.” She winked at him as she slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

He stared at the mosquito netting that spread over the frame of the Zanzibar bed as his laughter died down to a soft curse. Through the closed door, he could hear Simone soothing Sarah’s cries. Sarah clearly only slept until seven on blue moon Mondays every leap year.

Twenty minutes later he strolled out of the bathroom, showered and in his jocks. He paused in the door, the picture in front of him making him skip a breath. The pillows were heaped with golden curls as Simone lay with Sarah in bed, cuddling her close in a semi-doze. Sarah’s chubby fingers played with some of Simone’s curls; a soft toy lay squashed between them. Simone lifted a finger to her lips, indicating that he should be quiet.

But Sarah must have sensed the exchange because she turned toward him, not letting go of Simone’s hair, peering at him wide-eyed. As if he was part of the furniture, she turned back to Simone.

He edged around the bed and got in with them, spooning Simone’s body with his, resting his hand on her hip. He stared at Sarah over Simone’s shoulder, and Sarah paused for a second before she closed her eyes and carried on rubbing a curl between her thumb and forefinger. Simone searched for his hand and laced her fingers with his.

“This is the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen,” he murmured in Simone’s ear. It was true. He’d never beheld a more breathtaking image than Simone and Sarah in the natural morning light, so close, in bed. He wanted to see this every morning. More than ever. He wanted photos of them, all over his walls at home. On his desk, in his wallet.

“Just wait,” Simone whispered back, laughter hiding in her voice as he dropped a kiss on her temple.

“Wait for what?”

“For Sarah to wake up completely.”

Her words were hardly cold when Sarah tossed the long-limbed teddy to the side and started kicking at the duvet. She let go of Simone’s curls, but her fingers got stuck and by accident she yanked some hairs.

“Ouch!” Simone cried out.

Sarah sat up. “Sorry, Mommy.” She gawked at him, and it was as if she recognized him for the first time, and noted that he was there.

He walked his fingers over Simone’s hip to Sarah’s leg. She giggled as they reached her leg and ran to her tummy, which he tickled. Sarah laughed, and crawled away from his hand. She got up and, as if by instinct, started to jump on the bed.

Her curls bounced with every jump, shooting up and almost touching the mosquito-netted ceiling.

Simone groaned. “Not on the bed, darling.”

He laughed as he slipped off the bed, picked up his jeans and pulled them on. “Where else?” If he were a midget he would join Sarah in her antics. He must remember to order a trampoline.

Simone had covered her face with her hands and was wobbling with every jump Sarah made. Both were laughing, and a surge of love flowed over him in an unstoppable wave.

“Simone.” He reached for her, his hand on her arm, ready to spill his heart at her feet.

Sarah paused, and Simone peeked at him through her cupped hands. In the second of silence, a phone rang somewhere in the apartment.

“My phone.” Simone sat up. “Nobody ever phones me at this time of the morning.” She frowned at him. “You need your shirt.” She got off the bed and rushed from the room. “Give me a minute,” she called back.

He winked at Sarah, who’d continued to jump on the bed, but something was out of place. The moment had passed, the magic diluted within a breath.

He tried to listen to Simone’s conversation over Sarah’s giggles. Her voice echoed down the corridor, normal in greeting, then strained as she answered the caller. Dread filled him from the bottom up, as if the previous day and night and this morning had been too good, and he hadn’t deserved them.

“Best you get down, Sarah.” He grappled for her hand, but she ignored him as she jumped on.

She was flushed red, her eyes bright with laughter.

“Cara-cara-cara,” he remonstrated, “get down now before you fall and break something.” The bed was high, and just the idea freaked him out. He grabbed her by the waist and swung her off the bed, setting her on her feet. She shrieked playfully and pattered out of the room.

In the moment of quiet reprieve, he heard Simone’s voice. “No…no. I’ve no idea where he is.” There was a pause. “Of course, I can go to the hotel and check…I’ll let you know. Yes. On this number.”

He cursed and picked up his shoes. When he straightened Simone stood in the door, his phone in her hand.

“It was Julia.”

His blood stalled and his toes curled.

“She’s looking for you.” She held his phone, which he’d switched off, out to him.

Anxiety for Julia surged through him. “Thank you. Why did she phone you?” Did she sound high? Did she make sense?

“She can’t get hold of Angelo or Dino. Apparently, she’s been trying to phone you for the last couple of hours. She tried the hotel, but you’re not there.” A steady blush spread to her cheeks. “Since she knows…we’ve been flying together she wondered…if I knew where you were.” Sarah pattered in and grabbed Simone around the leg and Simone rested her hand on her head. “She found my number in the company directory.”

He cursed in Italian as he switched on his phone. Twenty missed calls stared at him from the screen. Most were from Julia but the other numbers he didn’t recognize. He doubted Julia would be able to phone him twice if she had used drugs, never mind twenty times. She wouldn’t care to hunt him down via every avenue on a high. Nothing made sense. He met Simone’s gaze.

“You’ll need your shirt,” she murmured and turned toward her closet as she unbuttoned his shirt.

She could have passed her phone to him, and he could have spoken to Julia directly, but he didn’t need to ask what she’d told Julia. She didn’t know where he was.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing down the cold disappointment that flushed through his chest. The outside world had invaded their cocoon with brutal force. He opened his eyes, and stared at her naked back, how gracefully it sloped down to her rounded butt, to her legs that carried on forever. Sarah clung to Simone, nagging to be picked up.

“Not now, Sarah,” Simone said as she plucked some beige underwear from a drawer. She turned, just enough so that he could see the edge of her breast. “Your shirt.” She held it out toward him.

He took it from her with a sighed thank you and walked out of the room as he pulled it on. Once in the lounge, he dialed Julia’s number, dropping onto the couch and preparing himself for the worst, already plotting how to get the rehab centre to collect her wilted, wasted body from home.

“Thank God, you finally picked up,” Julia answered.

Nothing in her voice gave away that she’d used, but the adrenaline was pulsing through his veins. “Are you okay, Julia? Sorry, I only switched my phone on, I—” He broke off.

“God, Carlo, I don’t know what to do,” she said, then added as an afterthought, “I’m fine, I’m one hundred percent fine.”

He swallowed and dropped his forehead to his palm as he breathed his relief. “What’s wrong?” He couldn’t imagine anything else warranting all her calls.

“Alan Kaan and Brett Winser phoned me, on the old landline.” Her voice trembled. “In the dead of night…freaking me out.”

The phone rang in his mind, its menacing ring echoing through the tomblike hall of their old family house. He shook his head, trying to place the names in the unexpected turn of the conversation. Brett Winser was the CEO of the East African Wildlife Society; Alan Kaan was from the African Elephant Specialist Group. His chest tightened. Both Alan and Brett had been in the conservation industry for decades and had been his father’s friends, but closer friends of Peppe’s. “Why did they phone? Is this about Peppe and the Tusk Awards?”

“They would have spoken to Peppe but knew about his heart attack. They wanted to talk to you.” Julia paused. “Since you didn’t answer your mobile, they phoned dad’s old landline. Imagine, they still have the number.” She sighed into the phone.

Few people still had that number or bothered to phone it. His blood was pulsing at his temple, and deep in his gut, he knew where the conversation was going. “Why?”

“The poaching and trafficking have leaked.” She didn’t quite sob, but her voice broke. “They wanted to know whether there was any truth to the rumors.” Julia groaned. “Carlo, I—”

“What did you say?”

“Denied all knowledge of anything and denounced it as impossible.” The tears, which had been thick in her voice, broke through, and she sobbed.

He got up from the sofa and started pacing the lounge, raking his hand through his hair.

“God, I lied to them. Was it the right thing to do?”

“Calm down, Julia. What exactly do they know?”

“They seemed to know everything. That we have a network flying tusks from our concessions out to Dar es Salaam and onward to Southeast Asia. That Carlevaro Air is directly involved.”

“Fuck.” The word popped out. For a second there was nothing else to say. That the information had hopped so undistorted from its origins to the ears of the highest players in the East African conservation industry gave him the chills.

“Alan Kaan asked me if we were responsible for the container of tusks they’ve discovered in the Mombasa harbor.”

He swore under his breath. By the sounds of it, Alan Kaan knew more than he did. “We’re not responsible for the bloody stowed tusks in the Mombasa harbor. We don’t even fly to Mombasa?” Suddenly he was uncertain, as everything zoomed out of focus. He paced the room again but stopped short on seeing Simone in the corridor, wide-eyed and pale. She shook her head.

“Carlevaro Air doesn’t fly to Mombasa.” Julia never cursed, but strings of Italian swear words slipped from her mouth. “I don’t understand, it’s only been two weeks and Alan Kaan knows. How did he find out?”

“I’ve no clue. We took pains to keep it quiet.” He paused. “Noel Peters and his team—”

“They’re from Kenya,” Julia interrupted him. “They could be involved.”

“No. Noel Peters—” He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “He can’t possibly be involved.”

“Everybody has their price, Carlo.” She swallowed. “Who else could have leaked it to them?”

“I don’t know, but heads are going to roll once I find out.” Carlo stopped to think. “Where are they? Alan and Brett?”

“They’re already in London for the Tusk Awards.”

Sitting in some pub and tearing Carlevaro International down brick by brick.

“I’ll get on my laptop and see what I can do from here,” he said, searching the room for his laptop. Then he recalled he’d left it at the hotel, and exhaled deeply. “You’re going to have to give me ten minutes. I’ll call you back. And stay calm, Julia.”

He rang off, just in time too, as Sarah bolted down the corridor, past Simone, and into the lounge. “Daddy!” She held several dolls by the hair, their legs protruding in awkward directions.

Simone grabbed her around the waist and stopped her from going further. “Not now, Sarah.”

Sarah cried out, kicking her legs in protest as Simone picked her up.

He met Simone’s gaze. Her face was even paler than it had been minutes ago.

“I need to go to the hotel for my laptop. Somehow the poaching leaked to some of our major conservation stakeholders.” He shoved his phone in his pocket. “With the big shots of those two NGOs knowing, it’s only a jump to the Tanzanian Government.” He tried to gather his thoughts but they’d scrambled.

“Carlo, I—” Simone started, trying to talk above Sarah whining that she wanted to be put down.

“I don’t know how this is going to pan out. Alan Kaan and Brett Winser phoned Julia,” he explained, but from her expression, Simone knew whom he’d discussed with Julia over the phone.

“I’ve flown them a few times,” she said, putting Sarah on the floor. “Sarah, be quiet.”

Sarah was by his leg, looking up at him and holding out her dolls.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, “but I’ll be back later, okay?” He walked over to where Simone leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I’ll drive you to the hotel?” she offered. “It’s only five minutes from here.”

“Dad-dy!”

His gaze dropped to Sarah, who’d followed him and hadn’t stopped calling for him, her voice rising with each attempt to get his attention as she tugged at his jeans. “No, you best stay here. I’ll grab a taxi at the Slipway. It’s only a minute’s walk.” He dropped to his haunches and brushed Sarah’s curls from her face. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

“No dragons!” she cried. “Play Barbie!”

“Oh sweetie, these dragons are tame.” He bit back the lie and stood. He reached for Simone, but she’d folded her arms over her chest. He squeezed her shoulder, and would have kissed her, but she looked flustered and closed her eyes as he searched her face.

“I’ll call you,” he said and marched out of the front door.

****

Simone didn’t move from the kitchen counter. She stared at Sarah, who in turn stared at the closed front door, on the verge of throwing a full-blown tantrum. She wanted to tell Sarah that now was not a good time, but her voice was gone.

What the hell had just happened? Nobody knew better who’d set that ball rolling than she did. Her gut twisted, and her blood hammered in her temple. She swallowed at the tightening in her throat, willing the sting behind her eyes away.

Heads were going to roll, and hers was first in line. She cursed Michael, but it didn’t help. Annie had obviously told Alan Kaan, her boss at the African Elephant Specialist Group, about the tusk Michael had found in the Carlevaro Air plane. If she hadn’t asked Michael to poke around in the first place, this would never have leaked.

“Mommy, where Daddy go?” Sarah whimpered, tugging at her shorts.

“Work,” she whispered. She hadn’t told him that she’d leaked it, indirectly. There hadn’t been a chance.

She turned to switch on the kettle, to do anything that would take her mind off the past disastrous half hour. She had to tell him that she had asked Michael to check the hold and that he’d spoken to Annie about finding that tusk.

Carlo was going to be furious. She wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive her. But that wasn’t all of it. Beyond the poaching leak stood everything else that had happened that morning.

“Do you want some cereal?” Her hands were shaking and she’d do anything to avoid thinking beyond Alan Kaan and Brett Winser and the silent storm she’d stirred up.

“Daddy go work, Mommy stay home?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling.

“Something like that.” Simone blinked. How was she going to explain anything to Sarah? She knelt and hugged Sarah close.

“Does daddies stay?”

She sniffed and rubbed at her nose. “He’ll be back. He said he’ll phone.”

She’d heard that one before. She blocked the whisper in her head.

His face when she’d handed him his phone, telling him to call Julia, flashed in her mind’s eye. Her stomach clutched tight, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

She should have passed him her phone.

Something in Julia’s voice, unexpected warmth, had reached to her like a hand through the phone. She could have explained to Julia that he’d been there, in her bed, making love to her and ignoring his phone for the past twelve hours because of her. She could have rewound every clock and could have made it easy for him, for them.

But she’d told him she didn’t want his family to know, and he’d respected her wishes. She’d denied any knowledge of his whereabouts first, and he’d taken her lead. Carlo had walked out, and she had no idea how he had interpreted her actions that morning. It made her feel horrible, the idea that she might have made him think that she’d shown him the door. And that after the day before and the intimacy they’d shared.

“Why you crying, Mommy?” Sarah asked, her voice thick with tears.

She closed her eyes. She’d clogged up everywhere, and her shoulders shook. “I don’t know, my darling.”