She clutched the glass tightly in her hand as a smile played at the corner of her lips. Taking a sip of champagne, Mena tried to disguise her interest, turning slightly to watch the lead bodyguard. Heart pounding in her chest, she strained to see his face more clearly.
It was Julian.
Devastatingly handsome and oozing a magnetic sensuality, Julian controlled the space, getting Wangari and Okeyo settled before stepping back to allow other guests to greet them.
As if drawn by an imperceptible discernment, Julian turned his head in her direction. Behind the dark sunglasses, she knew he was watching her. Mena took another sip of champagne, then tipped her head toward him. He returned the gesture, sending a flurry of butterflies through her body.
Closing her eyes, Mena took a deep breath, trying to calm the desire roaring within her. Thoughts of pulling him into a side room and making love to him with the tinkling of glasses and murmur of polite, elitist conversations in the ballroom as a backdrop to their moans flooded her mind. If she could get close enough to him, Mena knew Julian would never resist the suggestion or her.
Mena opened her eyes again.
Julian and the other bodyguard were gone.
Mena jerked her head around, glancing toward the table where Wangari and Okeyo sat.
He wasn’t there.
A hostess walked around the room, tapping a metal triangle. The chime filled the air, signaling that it was time to be seated at the tables, which had cost a staggering donation of ten million Kenyan shillings to President Thairu’s campaign.
Mena executed a slow pirouette, scanning and scrutinizing the crowd for Julian. It was as if he’d disappeared. Julian had explained that if he was doing his job correctly, she wouldn’t know he was in the same room with her. Was he watching her now as she searched for him? A game of hide and seek? Mena seriously contemplated going on a hunt of her own—
“I can’t believe this,” Grace said, her mouth dropping open.
Mena forced herself to focus on Grace. “What is it?”
“The President is seated at our table with Wangari,” Grace said, her tone bubbling with undisguised glee. “President Thairu will be having dinner with us tonight.”
“What?” Mena asked, shocked as she glanced at the man greeting Okeyo Lagat near their table. “That’s the President of Kenya?”
She’d seen him on television a few times, but not enough to commit his face to memory. Wangari had kept that little detail to herself. If Mena had known she’d be dining with the President tonight, she would have brushed up on her Kenyan history. The last thing she wanted was to look like an uninformed American, oblivious to what was going on in the world outside of U.S. interests. She’d only paid attention to the more salacious stories about corruption in the Kenyan government and political clashes. Fights between tribes with different ideologies and views toward the future of the country were not exactly the topics she wanted to bring up with the President.
Mena hesitated. Her mind raced with jumbled thoughts as she prepared to meet the leader of the country.
“I’m never going to forget this for as long as I live,” Grace shrieked as they approached the table. “How many people get to say that they’ve met the President of their country? And I will be sitting with him sharing a meal. Thairu should be a lock for re-election as long as Kipsang Rono doesn’t decide to run against him.”
“Isn’t Rono the vice president?” Mena asked.
“Deputy President,” Grace corrected, wagging a playful finger at Mena. “And yes, he is currently, but the union was strategic and has been tenuous at best over the past four years. The only man who can give Thairu a real challenge for the presidency is Rono and rumor has it that’s exactly what Rono plans to do.”
“I suppose that’s why Thairu is trying to solidify his base of wealthy supporters at this fundraiser,” Mena said.
“Exactly, and we must do everything we can to keep scum like Rono from becoming the president of Kenya,” Grace said.
“Welcome, ladies,” Wangari said, giving them a warm smile. “President Thairu, I’d like to introduce you to two of the talented art conservators at the museum. Grace Kadenge has been with the museum since it’s opening and has restored most of the Maasai warrior art pieces. Mena Nix is this year’s recipient of the prestigious fellowship and brings a wealth of knowledge on cutting edge laser restoration techniques.”
“Very pleased to meet both of you,” President Thairu said, reaching out to shake Grace’s hand. Then he turned to Mena and gave her a practiced smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mena said, as she shook the President’s hand.
Chapter Eleven
“That’s her?” Enzo asked, lowering the dark sunglasses to peer at the table where Wangari Irungu, President Thairu, and their guests were seated.
Standing in a nook near the front of the ballroom, hidden from view by the guests, Julian removed his sunglasses as he leaned against the wall.
“That’s her,” Julian said, his tone wistful. Mena was seated next to President Thairu. Julian should have been by her side tonight, instead of babysitting the Irungu Flower Princess and her DPP husband. Mena was stunning in a cream-colored strapless column gown. She was one of the most beautiful women in the room. He’d watched men appraise her as the cocktail hour ended and wanted to rip their eyeballs from the sockets.
“Damn! That is one sexy lady. No disrespect my friend, but how’d you snag her?” Enzo asked.
