Ned and Joyce rose from the bench and crowded toward the door. Gwen turned her back to Derek just as the car came to a jerking stop. The force of the train’s abrupt halt caused several people to stumble. Someone bumped into Gwen, knocking her off balance. Derek’s arm coiled around her, steadying her.
Her already parched mouth went impossibly drier at the contact. She gathered her bearings and stepped away from him with a slight shiver. “Thank you, again.”
He grinned and winked. “Anytime.”
The doors opened and they stepped out into the brisk evening air. The tree-lined streets bustled with activity. There were black cabs, double-decker red buses and cars going by with nobody in the driver’s seat.
The facades of the buildings retained their time-gone-by feel that made Gwen smile. She loved the grand feel of London and the history represented in the architecture. The arched doorways and colorful doors of the tall slim houses that were built together as if sharing the walls, called to her. Someday she’d like to live in London.
Their hostel was two blocks down on the right. The two-story yellow brick building sat in the middle of the block. An archway over a red door welcomed them. Arched windows with wrought iron balconies gave the building charm.
The proprietor, who introduced himself as Damon, greeted them warmly and showed them to their accommodations. They passed a room with comfy-looking couches that served as the common area, then up a narrow staircase with an ornately carved banister.
The wood floors of the hallway were covered with worn blue runners. Gwen was thankful they each had separate rooms with a single bathroom just down the hall.
The rooms weren’t fancy, but they were clean and functional with a single bed, scratched-up dresser and small closet with empty hangers. Gwen’s room shared a wall with Joyce’s while the men’s rooms were across the way.
Derek and the others were making plans for a late dinner. Gwen listened for a moment before stepping into her room and closing the door. Her plan was to relax and prepare for the rest of the journey; the long flight in the morning from the UK to Africa, then the drive from Entebbe Airport to the Moswani province.
To that end, she grabbed a few toiletries and stepped back into the hall which was thankfully empty. She wasn’t big on small talk.
Between the long flight and the eight-hour time difference, she felt ready to grab a bite to eat at the little pub next door and then sleep. Refreshed, she opened the bathroom door and found Derek leaning against the wall.
She blinked. “Uh, it’s all yours.”
“Is there any hot water left?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “I think so. I wasn’t in there that long.”
His mouth quirked. “I’m teasing.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know him well enough to recognize when he was teasing or not. “I hope you’re not too uncomfortable with the accommodations here.”
He waved off her concern. “I lived in a dorm in college.”
“Well, Joyce wasn’t kidding when she said this is luxurious compared to where we’ll be staying next.”
He lightly tweaked her braid. “Don’t worry about me. I’m adaptable.”
She stepped away from him. “That’s good. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Hey, wait,” he said. “We’re all going to dinner in an hour. You’re coming, too.”
She cocked her head, not liking the way he told her what she was doing. “I don’t think so.”
“You have to eat. And from what the others were telling me, this might be the last normal meal we’ll get until we’re back here.”
“I don’t want to stay out late.”
The excuse was lame. She had no real reason not to join them other than she just wasn’t good in casual settings. She didn’t do the chitchatty, surface deal that Joyce was so good at. She hadn’t learned the fine art of conversation. Living on the street, it wasn’t a priority—wondering where the next meal was coming from was. She gave another prayer of thanks for Claire and the teen shelter she’d created, which helped get her off the street.
“I promise I won’t keep you out long.” He stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll come get you in an hour.” With that he shut the door.
Gwen frowned. He was awfully pushy, but she couldn’t deny that eating alone as usual wasn’t appealing. Maybe it was time to step out of her comfort zone and try to have a casual dinner out with the team.
Her team.
She had to keep reminding herself that she was in charge and responsible for the success of the mission and the safety of the people. A heavy load, but one she willingly bore.
An hour later, there was a knock on the door to her room. Her heart leaped and she forced herself to stay calm. This wasn’t a date. She wouldn’t be alone with Derek. Still she smoothed a hand over the skirt she’d brought to wear to church in the village.
She opened the door expecting to see Derek and found only Craig and Joyce standing in the hall.
Disappointment spiraled through Gwen and she forced the silly emotion down. She had no business caring one way or another about Derek’s whereabouts.
Still the anxious flutter of nerves warned her that she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she wanted to be. Not good. Not good at all.
Gwen forced a smile and stepped into the hall. “Hi, guys. Where are the other two?”
“Ned and Derek went on ahead to secure a table,” Joyce explained as they headed down the stairs.
“Boy, I’m starved.” Craig held open the door for the ladies. Gwen smiled at him as she left the hostel, liking his gentlemanly manners.
Joyce had changed into a pair of linen pants and a bright pink tank top that showed off her creamy complexion. Her dark hair curled in appealing ringlets. Craig had shaved, his young face looking even more boyish. His jeans and polo shirt could have used an iron.
They walked two blocks to a quaint restaurant called Monica’s. The entryway boasted dark mahogany wood and antique furnishings. Waiters with white aprons hustled about. Tantalizing aromas hung in the air and Gwen’s stomach rumbled.
At a white linen-covered table near the back Derek waved them over. He looked good, with his freshly washed hair and clean-shaven face, though there was nothing boyish about Derek. His broad shoulders filled out his silk blue shirt. He looked solid and sturdy. The type who liked to be in control.
Gwen hung back slightly, unsure where to sit.
Derek stood and pulled out a chair for Joyce and then turned to her. “Here you go.” He pulled out the chair next to where he’d been sitting.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she sat. Awareness tingled over her arms. She shivered.
He folded himself back
