Except save his mother.
As an only child, he’d felt the burden of guilt for not being there for her when she’d needed him most.
His father had been there, comforting her as she left life and, as he’d said, joined the angels.
Pitbull had never been sure of angels and religion, but he’d experienced days in battle when nothing but a miracle could have saved them, and then it had. He liked to think his mother had been watching over him.
His father was still alive, living in Virginia, still a little lost without his wife. He’d been heartbroken by the loss and hadn’t dated or dared to love another woman since. Pitbull visited him as much as possible when he was Stateside in Little Creek, Virginia.
Having witnessed his father’s heartache, Pitbull had been hesitant to get that involved with any woman for more than a date or two. He didn’t want love someone he might lose, and suffer the way his father had.
This thing he was feeling about Marly was nothing more than insta-lust. It would fade and she’d be out of his life when they left Africa.
He ran a comb through his hair, smoothing it into place. The longer he took to get ready, the more jittery he became. Dressed thirty minutes early, he had nothing else to do but wait. Hell, he might as well wait outside.
He found himself anxious to see Marly again. How could that be? He barely knew the woman.
Pitbull stepped out of his bungalow and noted Buck standing outside his. He gave the other man a slight lift of his chin and sauntered over to join him.
Buck wore a black button-down shirt and black trousers with a red necktie. He tugged at the tie. “Damned things are like a noose. Whoever invented them was either masochistic or sadistic.”
Pitbull nodded. “I don’t understand dressing in formal clothing for dinner. What’s wrong with jeans?”
“Women.” Buck shrugged and tipped his head toward the darkening shadows in the nearby trees. “Did you hear the hyenas laughing?”
His lips quivering in laughter, Pitbull shot back, “They think we look funny, too?”
With a snort, Buck started toward the main house. “I guess early is better than late to a formal dinner.”
Pitbull glanced around. “Wonder if the others are ready.”
“They were the last ones at the pool table and are running late. They’ll find us soon enough,” Buck responded.
As they neared the front entrance to the house, the sun was setting in a radiant wash of orange, red, mauve and finally blues and purples. The gap between the trees gave them just enough of the spectacle to make them stop and stare for a long moment.
The front door opened behind them.
“Gentlemen, won’t you come into the study for a drink before dinner?” Talia stood in the doorway, dressed in a long gown that hugged every curve of her body like a second skin. The neckline was low, dipping past her breasts, but not quite down to her belly button. The woman was well endowed, and gravity hadn’t yet made its claim there.
“Now I can see why formal dinners can be a draw,” Buck said beneath his breath as he followed Talia inside. Louder he said, “Talia, you look amazing.”
“Why, thank you.” Talia stopped in the foyer and turned a smile toward Buck, her lips spreading across her expertly made-up face. “Wait until you see Marly. I got to experiment with clothes and makeup. I barely recognized her.”
Pitbull’s brows drew together. He hoped Talia hadn’t painted Marly’s smooth, natural complexion with a ton of makeup. He liked Marly’s fresh face and naturally pink lips.
“Where is she?” Buck asked, craning his neck to see around Talia.
“She was combing her hair when I left her. Hopefully she won’t be much longer.” Her glance shifted from the men in the entryway to the sweeping staircases.
A figure moved toward the landing and paused at the top.
Pitbull’s breath caught in his chest. He stared up at the woman standing there. She had on a sapphire-blue dress that hugged her body like she was born in it. The top crisscrossed her breasts and rounded the back of her neck in soft, iridescent folds. The skirt clung to her waist, hips and thighs, falling to the tops of her ankles, shimmering with every move and exposing a hint of her tight calves. Rhinestone-studded, low-heeled sandals completed her outfit, emphasizing her delicate feet.
With one hand on the rail, she descended the stairs, her head held high, sandy-blond tresses pulled up in a stylishly messy bun with strands falling down around her cheeks. Her gaze caught his, holding it all the way down.
Without realizing he’d moved, Pitbull found himself at the base of the stairs, his hand resting on the rail, his foot on the first riser.
A low whistle sounded next to him. “Is that our Marly?” Buck asked in a hushed tone.
Marly gave a lopsided grin. “It’s me,” she said and laughed.
When Buck held out his hand to her, Pitbull brushed it aside and reached out to take hers for himself.
Marly laid her fingers in his palm and shook her head. “You act as if you’re staring at a unicorn.” She wiggled her fingers in front of his face. “For that matter, you might as well be staring at a unicorn. When I leave here, you’ll never see me in a dress again.”
“Oh, Marly, darling, you look fabulous.” Talia joined them and gave Marly a hug. “I knew that color would suit you perfectly.” Talia stood back, admiring Marly’s transformation. “Don’t you boys agree?”
“You look nice,” Pitbull said. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Beautiful, sweetheart.” Buck leaned in and bussed Marly’s cheek.
Her face flamed with color. “It’s just a dress. A borrowed one at that.”
“But you wear it so well,” Talia insisted. “I have another dress that will be just as spectacular on you for tomorrow night.”
“No.” Marly held up her hand. “I can wear this one every night. You don’t have to dress me in something different every evening.”
“I insist,” Talia said. “I don’t often have lovely ladies visiting. It would be my pleasure. And you wouldn’t want to deprive me of the fun, would you?”
Marly bit on her bottom lip and studied the other woman.
Pitbull could tell she was debating what she wanted to say to her hostess.
Finally Marly sighed. “I don’t mind at all. If you want to dress me like a doll, I won’t stop you. But I draw the line at corsets. I don’t do corsets.”
Talia laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
The front door opened, and the other four members of Pitbull’s team entered. They gathered around Marly, congratulating her on her amazing transformation.
“You look like an entirely different woman,” Harm commented.
She laughed out loud and then frowned. “No matter what I’m wearing, I’m still the same old Marly. And, for the record, I’d rather wear my flight suit and hiking boots than a dress and heels any day.”
Talia raised her arms, urging the crowd of people toward another door. “If Miss Simpson and you men are ready, we can go into the dining room to be served.”
Pitbull offered Marly his arm. As they entered the formal dining room, he leaned close to Marly and said, “You look amazing.”
She ducked her head.