Rand's Redemption

By Karen Van Der Zee

Rand Caldwell was as rugged and untamed as the land he owned: 75,000 wild acres of hills and savannah in vast, beautiful Kenya. He might love women, but they'd never been a part of his long–term plan.Warm, fun–loving Shanna Moore turned Rand's life upside down. So much so that soon he was gruffly inviting her to share his home – if she'd like. Shanna knew she would, but did his invitation include sharing his bed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Jul 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781460844458

Karen Van Der Zee

Karen van der Zee is the author of 34 romance novels published by Harlequin and Silhouette, one of which won a RITA Award. She grew up in the Netherlands where she developed a taste for travel. She married an American globetrotter and has cooked, shopped, mothered, traveled and written romance novels and non-fiction stories in Africa, Asia, the US, the Middle East, and Europe. She now lives in France.  

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

SHANNA noticed the man from quite a distance as he came striding down the busy street toward the Thorn Tree Café terrace. It was hard not to. Amid the colorful crowd of tourists sporting cameras, men in business suits, Indian women in exotic saris and Arabs in flowing robes, he looked tall and casual in his khaki slacks and short-sleeved shirt. He had long legs and he moved with the grace of an athlete. Or an animal, free and proud in the wild.

He entered the terrace where she was sitting with Nick and glanced around. His dark hair was curly and cropped close, his blue eyes clear and sharp.

He was coming toward them.

Her stomach tightened, her pulse quickened and she felt a delicious thrill of excitement—a different kind of excitement than she had felt ever since she’d woozily stumbled off the plane in Nairobi last night—a kind of excitement that made you think of romantic music and starry nights, the kind that made your heart do dance steps.

Barely off the plane and she was dreaming already. Well, why not. Today was a golden day.

A day full of exotic sights and tropical sunshine and bright promise. A day full of secret anticipation of what was to come. She was finally back in the place where she had spent the four happiest years of her life as a girl. Oh, how long she had dreamed of this!

She felt Nick’s arm around her shoulder. He smiled at her. It’s good to see you happy, he said. Keep it up okay?

She was touched by the warmth in his eyes. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. I’ll be fine, Nick. A change of scenery will do me good, something to occupy my mind.

He tightened his arm around her, kissed her cheek. Good, then I’m glad you came.

And then he was there, the stranger, looming in front of them.

Nick leaped to his feet with a wide grin and the men shook hands. The man was taller than Nick, who was tall by anyone’s standard. He looked like he belonged on a movie screen—confident, self-assured. As if he owned the world.

Well, he owned part of it.

Seventy-five thousand acres of hills and jungle and savannah in the Rift Valley, where he raised sheep and cattle and lived in a big, gorgeous house on the edge of a cliff. Just like in the movies. She’d seen the pictures Nick had taken some years ago, and last year a magazine had featured an article on the ranch and the research work conducted there by the Kenyan government and the African Wildlife Organisation. Looking at the man, she could easily imagine him in a Land Rover or on a horse, or flying a little Cessna, all of which he probably did.

Nick turned to face her with a smile. Shanna, this is Rand Caldwell. Rand, Shanna Moore, my niece.

She extended her hand and he took it in his huge hard one. For a pregnant moment he said nothing, just stared at her with his penetrating blue gaze. In the tanned face his eyes looked impossibly light, and disturbingly icy.

Miss Moore, he said in cool British tones, and released her hand.

Meeting new people was not usually a source of apprehension for her. However, this man made her feel off balance. Why was he looking at her like this?

Nice to meet you, she said, and offered him her cheeriest smile, trying not to show him he’d unnerved her, which he had. Nick told me all about your ranch.

Rand lifted a quizzical brow and glanced over at Nick. You haven’t seen it in years, he said dryly.

Nick grinned. It made an indelible impression. Especially that lioness that nearly tore me apart.

Nick was, biologically, her uncle, but in reality he was more like a big brother. He was a fun-loving guy with a sense of the adventurous, eleven years older than she. Since the death of her parents six years ago, it was at Nick and his wife Melanie’s home she’d spent Christmas and other holidays. They were her family now.

How’s Melanie? Rand asked.

Very well, said Nick. Busy with the children. She’s sorry she couldn’t come along. In his student days Rand had spent a couple of years studying in the States and had become friends with Melanie and Nick.

The men ordered beer and Shanna asked for another passion fruit juice, nectar of the gods. She listened absently to the conversation, sipping her juice and watching the colorful melee of humanity pass by in the busy street.

A tall blond woman maneuvered her way through the maze of chairs and tables, a baby in her arms, his little face blissfully asleep on her shoulder.

Sammy.

A rush of longing. Instant, fierce. She could feel the weight of his small body in her arms, smell his sweet baby smell. Tears burned behind her eyes. She glanced down at her lap, pressed her eyes closed and took a deep, steadying breath.

Sammy was all right. She had to believe that. She took another deep breath.

Think of something else, she told herself.

Like Rand Caldwell and his icy eyes.

Focusing on the men’s voices, she heard them talk about politics and her thoughts drifted to the ranch, the pictures she had seen.

The ranch, she knew, was only twenty miles from Kanguli, the village where she had lived with her parents as a child. What she wanted to do more than anything else was to run out into the street, hijack the first Jeep or Land Rover passing by and drive out to Kanguli right this minute. Unfortunately she’d have to wait till tomorrow, when she’d pick up her own rented Land Rover. She hoped she could still find the village. Would the people still remember her after all this time?

She watched Rand as he talked. He had a somewhat prominent nose, a square chin, a high forehead—a face like a living sculpture, angular and masculine. And those piercing eyes…

She glanced down at his hands holding his beer glass. They were big and brown and strong. Capable, competent hands. It would be interesting to see him in action on the ranch.

He looked at her suddenly, as if he realized that she’d been studying him. For a moment their eyes locked. The cool disdain in his face was unsettling. Why was he looking at her like that?

She heard Nick talking about her, telling Rand that she was writing an article for a university publication.

And you’re here to do research? Rand asked politely.

Yes, she said. This was partially the truth, if not the whole truth.

And you happened to come out at the same time as Nick? he asked levelly.

She nodded. My schedule was flexible, so I made it fit his.

And what are you going to write about? His tone indicated he couldn’t care less.

I’m doing a piece on Kenyan women, how their lives have changed in the last generation, their position in the family, the society and the workforce.

One dark brow cocked. Really? His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

She groaned inwardly, knowing full well what he was thinking. He thought she was here for two weeks. The idea of writing a well-researched article of that nature in two weeks, being fresh in a foreign country, was laughable.

Only, she wasn’t a stranger to the country, and she wasn’t staying for two weeks—not if her plans worked out, and she was determined that they should. However, she could not set Mr. Rand Caldwell straight because Nick didn’t know about her intentions yet. She didn’t want to worry him.

Rand was looking at her, narrow-eyed, contemplating no doubt if she were merely acting like a fool, or, in actual fact, was one.

Nick patted her hand and drew his tall body out of the chair. I need to make a phone call. Can I trust you two alone for a few minutes?

Shanna rolled her eyes at him and he grinned.

Left alone with Rand, Shanna was well aware of a certain disconcerting electricity in the air between them. For a reason she couldn’t begin to understand, this man did not like her. Perhaps it was best to simply ignore the vibes he was sending out and pretend she had no idea. Well, she didn’t. At least not why he seemed to be so chilly toward her.

I understand there is a lot of wild game on your property, she said, and you’re very involved in conservation.

He took a swallow of beer. Yes. His voice was curt and impatient.

I saw the article they did on your work at the ranch last year, she went on. Why did you decide to allow your place to be used for research?

Because I think it is important, he said, as if he were talking to a dim-witted child. She let it pass, trying to remember what else had been in the article. It had mentioned the house which was built on the edge of a wild and rocky gorge. Magnificent views, dramatic scenery, the report had said, and the photos had been dramatic indeed. She’d love to see the place.

She took a drink from her juice and a thought occurred to her. It was rather a brave thought, she had to admit, but why not take a risk? She had nothing to lose.

You have a big place, she stated. Do you have women employees, farm workers?

Yes. He reached for his glass.

I wonder if I could visit some time and talk to the women. If it wouldn’t be an inconvenience, of course.

I doubt it will be helpful, he said with barely restrained condescension.

I think it might be. She produced a smile. And of course, if you know other women who would be willing to talk to me, I would appreciate your help.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he was silent for a moment. She had confused him with her appeal. He was emitting hostile vibrations and he had expected to receive the same in return. Instead, she was appealing to his gentleman instincts and asking for help.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes probing hers. I’ll let you know. His tone of voice indicated that she might as well forget the whole idea.

She smiled. She was determined to stay civil and keep her dignity. Thank you. It’s important I talk to as many different kinds of women as possible to get a balanced impression.

And you think you can accomplish that in two weeks?

She shrugged. I’ve done extensive research.

I see, he said in a tone that indicated he doubted it very much.

She pretended not to notice his animosity. The best defense was no defense at all.

They sat in silence, and she watched the people around her.

Nick told me you were born in Kenya, that you grew up here, she said after a while, making another effort at civilized conversation, and that the ranch has been in your family since your grandfather came to Kenya from England in the early twenties.

His mouth tightened. Yes.

She leaned forward in her chair. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…pry. I’m just trying to make conversation. She smiled again, but it was taking quite an effort.

Naturally. He radiated cold dislike.

It was amazing. What was the matter with this man? She hadn’t asked anything that wasn’t printed in the article. She leaned back in her chair and decided to get away from the personal.

It’s wonderful to be here. I’m looking forward to the party tonight, meeting people.

She was quite comfortable with her own company, but now and again she enjoyed parties and other get-togethers where she had the opportunity to meet interesting people, learn new things.

He did not respond, but then of course she had not asked a question; she’d merely made a comment, and he certainly didn’t seem inclined to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Perhaps, living alone, he had forgotten how to talk and be sociable.

Living in such an isolated place must get lonely at times, she commented. What do you do for entertainment?

Entertainment is not high on my list of priorities. I have a ranch to run.

And certainly he had no time for anything as frivolous as entertainment, came the automatic thought. Yes, of course, she said evenly, but a person can’t always work. A modest dose of fun now and then is good for the soul.

He took a swallow of beer and said nothing.

If you have one, she added, unable to help herself.

He raised his brows in mild derision, still saying nothing and she was tempted to pour her drink over his handsome head but managed to contain herself.

Do you? she asked. Have a soul?

I doubt it, he said, and there was the merest quiver of his mouth, but she might have imagined it. She wondered what made him smile, laugh. What made him happy.

What do you enjoy most about your work? What is it that gives you pleasure?

He raised his brows. You certainly seem to be preoccupied with fun and joy and pleasure, he said, his voice sounding as if these were unsavory pastimes no moral person should get involved with.

Not to mention happiness, she added, smiling sweetly. I enjoy my work, I enjoy my friends. I like being happy, and if I may be so blunt, there seems to be a great lack of all that in your disposition. She came to her feet. Excuse me, I think my hair needs combing.

Rand watched her go. Lovely legs, sexy body. She was beautiful, with her blond hair and green eyes and that gorgeous sunny smile. An empty-headed party girl, no doubt. His stomach clenched painfully.

Blond hair and green eyes.

An image floated through his mind, the face of another woman, smiling. The scent of violets. He thought of the twelve-year-old boy lying in bed, trying desperately not to cry because men don’t cry. He thought of promises made and never kept. He squashed the memories forcefully, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to think of her. It was all in the past, done, over with.

Instead, he thought of Melanie, the way he remembered her, long ago, looking at Nick, hopelessly in love. Her happy face, the love in her eyes. So young and naive, so blind.

There was no denying that Nick had been a true friend to him in his college years in the States. There was also no denying that Nick had been an irrepressible skirt chaser, breaking hearts left, right and center. Rand sighed and rubbed his forehead.

He had warned Melanie, but she had not heeded that warning. Instead of running the other way, she had married him. And now here was Nick, far away from home, with this woman, his niece.

Shanna was in her hotel room, which adjoined Nick’s, and plopped herself down on the big, comfortable bed. It was a gorgeous room, nicely furnished with rattan furniture with cushions upholstered in some bright, tropical fabric, and interesting batik art on the wall.

She stretched out on the bed and let out a deep sigh. She had almost lost her temper with Mr. Rand Caldwell, but not quite.

After she’d returned from the ladies’ room, she’d found Nick back at the table and soon after that they’d left to go back to their hotel, and Rand to the house of friends where he was staying.

His supercilious manner was infuriating, not to mention offensive. For some incomprehensible reason, he