Jackal's Dance Read Online Free PDF Page A

joining a debating society. Megan was a well-rounded, genuine and thoroughly nice girl. Those who knew her marvelled at how well she coped with what, it was agreed, amounted to a considerable handicap.
    Through circumstances beyond her control, Megan had discovered early in life that which some people never learn – that while physical perfection may be a great attribute, it was no substitute for a sincere and caring personality. She was outstandingly popular, largely because of her talent for listening. At twenty-two, even people much older tended to confide in her. Megan knew enough secrets to write several scandalous books but never once was a confidence betrayed. She worked steadily towards a degree in nature conservation, was quiet and well-behaved in lectures and tutorials, diligent in submitting assignments on time and had an active, though compared to many, relatively tame social life.
    Not short of male company, a few friendships had blossomed into romance. Megan quickly learned that if she didn’t dwell on her disability, chances were neither would others. In fact, the size of her breasts was a cause of more embarrassment to her than a withered leg ever could be.
    Right now, Megan was between boyfriends. The last relationship had been ended by her because, although he was nice enough, he didn’t challenge her mentally. Megan accepted that some young men would discount her as a potential partner because of her limp but that was their loss, not hers. Superficiality was high on her hit list of pet hates.
    Most nights in camp, sitting around the fire, the others would beg Megan to get her guitar. She’d become a good player, with a range from classicalthrough modern and folk, even writing her own music. Megan’s voice was a sweetly true contralto and when Fletch joined in with a passably good tenor accompaniment, the pair would harmonise effortlessly while their audience fell silent and listened.
    Tea finished, Megan plaited her hair, securing each braid with a rubber band, then, collecting up the equipment she’d need, left her tent.
    Troy Trevaskis was known for possessing an almost legendary libido. He’d read somewhere that men thought about sex at least once every twenty minutes. Bullshit! It was hardly ever off Troy’s mind and his body responded accordingly. Especially first thing in the morning. One of his friends advised, ‘Take a leak. It works for me.’ But on those occasions he woke alone, Troy preferred to take care of early morning erections in his own way.
    Which was precisely what he was doing right now. And to help him along, he was thinking about Angela Gibbs. When he had finished, he was still thinking about her.
    The girl was gorgeous. When she joined the group waiting for the university minibus which would take them the two thousand long kilometres from Johannesburg to Etosha, Troy wasted no time and immediately introduced himself.
    As much as he had been looking forward to the field trip, until that moment Troy had been glumly sizing up Kalila, Josie and Megan. None of them was his type. He’d just come to the regrettableconclusion that he was in for three weeks of celibacy – his friends were going to love that when they found out – when Angela appeared. Blonde, slim, a figure and face to die for, the forthcoming field trip was suddenly looking brighter. Troy took it upon himself to lay an early claim. She’d responded by flirting with him and they sat together through the three-day journey. Troy was convinced that, as soon as was humanly possible, he’d get lucky. He made the mistake of mentioning it. ‘I can’t wait to be alone with you. I want to kiss you all over.’
    Great stuff! The line usually worked. Angela had cold-shouldered him ever since, leaving Troy wondering what on earth had gone wrong. The problem obviously couldn’t be him so, as he watched her flirt, first with Fletch, then the professor, he finally