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be arriving in Mombasa in ten minutes. Prepare for landing.”
    “You got me through the storm. I didn’t even realize it was over. Thank you.” Releasing her death grip on Zak’s arm, Sara cupped her face and quickly kissed her on the lips.
    Zak was so stunned she had no time to withdraw from the touch or the kiss. Both connected with her skin like water on parched sand. She wanted to freeze the moment their lips joined and drink in the softness of Sara’s mouth. It was a simple gesture of thanks but so spontaneous and genuine that it registered deep inside Zak. She seldom received affection that wasn’t carefully calculated for effect.
    Sara withdrew her hands, bringing them to her lips as though burned. “I’m so sorry. I—”
    Zak turned away, not trusting herself to speak. This woman was gently poking at things Zak preferred to keep undisturbed. Outside the window, shards of ochre sunlight sliced through the receding darkness. The sky was decorated with layers of color ranging from inky black to shades of plum, cerulean, and white. The aqua waters of the Indian Ocean appeared almost invisible under a night that refused to depart quickly.
    Zak was grateful the savannahs of the Masai Mara weren’t visible as they approached Moi International Airport. She could wait another day to see the country that felt more like home than her own and to acknowledge the feelings that this place demanded. Her skin tingled with anticipation as her eyes clouded and tears escaped onto her cheeks. She quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand and buckled her seat belt for landing. Even if she didn’t have a job anymore, Zak would remain in Africa. She had unanswered questions and things to settle.

    *

    Sara moved to her original seat and prepared for landing. Her lips stung from the kiss as she tried to make sense of it. She was prone to overt expressions, an impulse born of sheer joy at still being alive, a simple display of gratitude to a woman who knew exactly how to calm her. Rikki couldn’t quiet her fears, usually resorting to shushing her like a child. But somehow Zak understood that her incessant talking would distract her just enough. The kiss was pure whimsy, so why did it feel like more?
    Girding her seat belt around her, she stole a glimpse at the mystifying woman across the aisle. She hadn’t responded to the kiss at all, simply stared out the window unaffected. She had reacted quite differently when Sara inadvertently groped her breasts. Her intellectual reply had been clear: Find a replacement . How could someone perceptive enough to intuit what would quiet her during a crisis be so emotionally contained?
    She stared at the back of Zak’s head as if she could absorb the answer through osmosis. Zak appeared intent on the sunrise over Mombasa as they approached the airport. A soft glow seeped in from the window, casting a rainbow of light around her. She inhaled deeply and swiped at a tear track glistening on her cheek. Sara fought the urge to comfort her, knowing that this very private woman would neither accept nor appreciate it.
    Even though Zak wore the latest high-tech sat phone like an extra appendage, it never rang. She hardly spoke unless responding to a direct question or giving instructions. Controlling her feelings seemed to be like breathing. But this woman’s chain mail showed scratches Sara had seen twice, and she was seldom wrong about people. What had caused Zak’s uncharacteristic lapse into the emotional?
    As the wheels of the jet skidded to a stop on the runway, Sara knew she might never be any closer to an answer.

Chapter Four

    Royalty came to mind as Zak watched the pilot and chauffeur trip over themselves retrieving Sara’s luggage. Those who orbited in the galaxy of the wealthy must be accustomed to self-deprecation. She wasn’t falling into that trap, Zak thought when she stepped into the warm African air. The small dirty gray building that served as the airport terminal would