Pride of the Veld

shoulders and down his arms before dropping it onto the floor. He eased Geo’s shorts off next and took his hand, leading him back to his bed.
    He found himself tucked back under the covers, and whined as the dream Danie moved away.
    “Don’t leave!” Geo cried, upset that he was always being abandoned, even by his dreams. It was so unfair. He could almost see the smirk on Danie’s face, as if it had been real. The rustling in the shadows sounded real to Geo, but his lids were already sinking, and he was losing the battle to keep them open. He briefly managed to open them once more when he felt the far side of the bed dip under a weight, and a pair of warm arms slid around his waist, tugging him backwards into a warm, silky chest.
    Geo’s last thought was to wish that Danie wasn’t just a dream.
    ****

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Danie was working through a medium rare steak when George Christiansen entered the dining room with the reserve’s estate manager, Baruti Eze.
    “I hear Geo was planning a solo trip to the bush.” Disapproval dripping from his tone, he sat. Immediately a young, white-jacketed server brought him a china cup and began pouring the coffee. “I’ve put a stop to it,” George continued, snapping open that morning’s edition of Business Day.
    Danie looked up from his plate and grunted at Lenka Eze, who gave him a cheeky grin behind George’s back.
    Baruti frowned at the grandson now taking his turn at learning the traditional service still practiced in the Christiansen dining room. Cocking a brow, Danie moved his cup away from his plate signaling a refill from the youth before whispering in Baruti’s ear, “Teen-in-training?”
    “Don’t remind me Danie. One week in the dining room with him has aged me twenty years.”
    They both grimaced as Lenka over-poured Danie’s cup, sloshing coffee across the pristine, linen tablecloth. At the horrified expression on the teen’s face, Danie slid the napkin from his lap onto the table, covering the stain with a smile. The grin was back, and Lenka bounced out of the dining room, grin firmly in place once more.
    Baruti shook his head and pulled out a slim notebook from his left shirt pocket to start making his notes for the day. Lenka came back with a cup of black tea for his grandfather, serving him with exaggerated care before refilling George Christiansen’s cup from the fresh pot he’d brought along with the tea.
    “We have a guest coming in later today and I need Geo to show him around. You’ll drive.” George laid the newspaper aside, fixing Danie with a stare.
    “Don’t you think Geo has earned his privacy and time off?” Danie resumed eating, not bothering to check the elder Christiansen’s face for irritation. It was fairly crackling in the air between them.
    “Nonsense. He’s a Christiansen. He has responsibilities to this family and to this land. It’s what he’s been raised for.” His familiar tirade was cut short by the arrival of his own breakfast.
    Danie sighed and finished up. He wanted to go find Geo. They’d been delayed longer than intended in Johannesburg. He’d tried to get back to the reserve by late afternoon, but George’s lawyer needed additional details in order to pursue a claim for salvage rights on the property retrieved on the reserve. Andrea had signed over any claims to Geo, though Geo didn’t know it yet, and George had attached a secondary claim on behalf of the reserve.
    His lawyers were negotiating release of the uncut diamonds into a trust account for conservation and education on the reserve. It was something they’d been planning for but hadn’t funded yet, and this situation presented a way for the South African government to avoid a lengthy and potentially embarrassing legal battle.
    Technically there was no way to prove the ownership of the diamonds or the fact that they’d been stolen, since no claims of losses had been filed from any of the mines in the period preceding the crash. Ronson himself was being held on kidnapping, fraud, and attempted murder charges, not smuggling. It was a mess.
    “Danie,” the old man cautioned, “you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. You’re not out in the bush any longer.” The cold tone left Danie gritting his teeth against the explosion of words pressing to be released.
    “And that’s wrong?” he finally responded.
    “It is. Geo isn’t a homosexual. No Christiansen is. He was born for great things. He has a position that requires an