Noble Hearts (Wild Hearts Romance Book 3) Read Free Page B

settled here, yes, of course.” I crossed to the back of the jeep, leaned over the half-door, and kissed Lisha gently on her forehead, dismayed at the fever gathered there. “ Wana nguvu ,” I told her. Have strength . Where I was going to find that strength myself I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure Jamal would ever find it again, if his utterly blasted look was any indication. What was it like to love and revere another human being so much, I wondered.
    “Are you okay to drive?”
    Jamal nodded, absently as though he might not have understood the words, just the tone. I placed my fingers under his chin and turned his head so we were looking directly into each other’s eyes, and repeated the question.
    He took a shuddering breath and nodded again. This time at least I knew it was a conscious response.
    On a whim, I stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on Jamal’s forehead in the exact same spot I had kissed Lisha. “ For strength ,” I echoed. “For you both.”
    Nodding over and over, as though the gesture provided him courage only as long as he didn’t stop, Jamal slid behind the wheel and sped away.
    “She’s going to die,” I said.
    “Probably,” came Dr. LeSabre’s gentle agreement.
    But he had misunderstood me.
    “Going off to the city. To a strange hospital. Away from her children. Away from her home. The decision made for her.” I turned wide eyes on the man beside me. “Why is going to die better than staying to die?”
    He opened his mouth as though to say something.
    He earned my respect when he closed it with a thoughtful shake of his head just before his own pain and stress and blood loss caught up to him and he swayed dangerously under the heat of the sun.

CHAPTER 4

Mark
    Hindsight told me I should have grabbed my medical bag when I’d fled the rebel camp. Had I known I’d need heavy-duty pain meds so immediately, I wouldn’t have left those behind.
    “If you’re staying, we need to get you inside,” my benefactor said, her tone brisked with worry for her friend, for me, perhaps for Ushindi in general.
    Trying to distract myself from the pain, I focused on the smooth lines of her heart-shaped face, the olive-tan coloring of her skin that seemed as much natural as sunbaked in, and the moody depths of her espresso-washed eyes.
    When she turned away, I followed her across the planked veranda, losing myself in the soft sway of her hips. When she laid her hand on the door latch, an anxious whine and the scrabble of big claws on hard floor drew my attention instead.
    “ Sawa-sawa , Gus,” she seemed to assure the beast as she eased her way in and took its collar before gesturing me inside. I was almost through the door when a bundle of black energy swept past, bumping against me as it launched itself at my host with a screech.
    “No, Jengo.” The woman’s voice was stern as she put her free hand on the shoulder of the young primate attempting to scale her legs.
    She threw me an apologetic look as I eased around the three pairs of eyes tracking my progress.
    “I’ve lived on a university campus most of my life,” I told her as way of excuse for my trepidation. “I don’t have much experience with dogs or”—was I really about to say it?—“monkeys.”
    “Gorilla,” she corrected. “Jengo’s still a baby—a toddler—and pretty much mvulana mama ya —a mama’s boy.”
    With a face only a mother could love, I thought as I stared at the deep folds of skin under his impossibly huge eyes and the wrinkle of his wide, flat nose. “Quite a family.”
    She smiled. “This is only half of it. The boys. Wait’ll you meet the girls.”
    I arched my brows her way.
    “Later,” she said, releasing the collar she still held. “After we get you cleaned up.”
    The big black-and-tan dog padded obediently beside her, the gorilla’s hand in hers as she led the way to the kitchen, an open, airy room dominated by two large picture windows that looked out over the planted rainforest. I