The low buzz of an approaching aircraft caught their attention and Hope immediately started waving frantically to catch the pilot’s attention. J.T. yelled, “Get down!” and tackled her to the ground to hide in the foliage.
“What are you doing?” she screeched, unable to believe he’d just submarined a possible way out of the jungle. “That could be our rescue plane!”
“I can guarantee that is not a rescue plane,” he growled, holding her tight. “Remember how I said there were guerrillas in this jungle? Well, they use ultralight aircraft to patrol their territory, such as that Cessna that just flew overhead. Chances are they saw the plane down, which means they’re going to circle back around for a better look. We gotta get out of here, now.”
A flutter of alarm traveled her spinal cord. “What if they saw me?”
“Let’s not hang around and find out,” he said, letting her go as they climbed to their feet. The sound of the aircraft returning put their feet into sudden motion as they ran into the jungle, trying to lose themselves within the dense canopy.
Branches scraped her face and thick tree roots tripped her more than once as they ran like bats out of hell until they could no longer hear the plane, but by that point they were so deep in the jungle Hope was terrified that they’d gone from the frying pan to the fire.
Breathing hard, sweat running down their faces, they stopped to catch their breath as they regrouped.
“Do you think they saw us?” she asked when she could speak again.
“No way to know,” he answered grimly, and drew a deep breath. “But we gotta keep moving.”
“But we don’t even know where we’re going!” she protested. “We could be heading in the wrong direction.”
“We’ll follow the river. At least we’ll have access to drinking water.”
“But you said the river would take us over a cliff,” she reminded him anxiously.
“I guess we’ll just have to be careful.”
He flashed her a grin that belied the seriousness of the situation and she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit reassured that they were going to be all right.
As long as they weren’t eaten.
Or shot.
4
J.T. TOOK POINT, pushing through the dense jungle, getting slapped and scratched by branches, as they slipped on slick mud and swatted at the mosquitoes that buzzed around their heads. By the time they reached the river bend, they were both hot, sweaty and hungry.
“That protein bar didn’t go very far,” Hope said, squinting at the midday sun, breathless. “I feel like my stomach is caving in.”
“Same,” he agreed, looking around. He knew that the Lacandon had plenty of edible fruits, tubers and greens, but he wasn’t about to take a chance and gnaw on a leaf he couldn’t identify.
And seeing as he wasn’t a botanist, he couldn’t identify much of anything.
However, Hope had better luck.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, moving past him to crouch on the jungle floor beside a leafy green bush that looked, frankly, exactly the same as the rest of the jungle, but when she rose with a triumphant smile and a handful of green pods, he knew she’d found something. “These are edible berries,” she explained, plucking the green buds and pouring a few into his palm.
“Are you sure?” he asked, regarding the buds with uncertainty. “I don’t want to die hallucinating that the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is coming to eat me.”
“They are completely safe,” she assured him, popping her handful into her mouth. Immediately grimacing, she added, “But no promises on how they taste. Good gravy, that’s a different flavor altogether.”
He followed suit and experimentally chewed on the berries. “Whoa, you aren’t kidding,” he said, trying to categorize the flavor. “Not sweet, a bit sour...and grainy.”
She nodded and swallowed. “But edible. We should eat a few more.”
“I’m not sure starving wouldn’t be preferable to putting those things in my mouth again, but I’ll take your word for it.” He accepted a few more round green buds and hastily tossed them back, chewing quickly so he could get it over with. “What I wouldn’t do for my meatball sub,” he groused.
Hope commiserated, swallowing quickly. “Never been a huge fan, but right now I’d go face-first into that sub if it were in your hands.”
J.T. laughed and pulled the water canteen to wash down the jungle gunk. “Here, take a few swigs. The aftertaste is a killer.”
They shared a few drinks and then surveyed their situation. “Best guess, this is the Lacanjá River. If we follow it, we should run into a few villages. With any luck, we can hitch a ride to one of the bigger cities closer to Guatemala or Belize. From there we can regroup and find another plane.”
“And what if this isn’t the Lacanjá River, but some other tributary and we end up more lost than ever?”
“Then we’re going to be eating a lot more of those disgusting berries,” he said grimly. But, God, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“That’s not a great prospect,” she said.
“Tell me about it.”
They wound their way along the river’s edge, slipping and sliding, landing more than once in the water, before they realized they were running out of traversable land and would have to double back.
“Maybe we could let the current take us downriver,” Hope suggested, and bit her lip in distress. Thinking better of her own suggestion, she said, “Or we could just find an alternate route.”
“The current is moving pretty fast. I wouldn’t want to take the chance if we didn’t have to.”
Hope agreed, sighing heavily. As they turned to go back the way they’d come, they heard the distinct sound of voices speaking Spanish heading their way and froze.
“What do we do?” Hope asked fearfully, swallowing as she stood rigid. “They’re going to see us any second!”
J.T. did some quick thinking and came up with two possible scenarios. Stick around and die, or jump in the water and possibly drown—only one option had a slim shot of survival. Grabbing her hand, he yelled, “Jump!” right as a bullet split the air by his ear and they went feetfirst into the fast-moving river.
If he hadn’t been choking on river water, the sudden cool of the water would’ve been refreshing, but the brutal current was tossing them around like rag dolls, pulling them under as they went, only to spit them out again as they drew quick lungfuls of precious air.
“J.T.!” Hope managed to scream before going under again. He swam toward her and managed to grab her hand and pull her to him, but the waves buffeted them, doing their best to tear them apart.
“Don’t let go!” he yelled, gripping her hand so hard he would’ve feared under normal circumstances that he’d snap bone.
J.T. popped out of the water in time to see the worst-case scenario materialize before his eyes. Awww, shit. A waterfall loomed and they were heading straight for it.
He knew they had seconds before they went over, so he used the time to shout quick instructions.
“Whatever you do, try to go feetfirst into the water. With any luck...we won’t hit rocks!”
“Rocks?” she cried, ending with a shrill, “OHHMYYGOD” as they plunged over the side.
It would be a miracle if they survived.
And J.T. worried...they might be plain out of miracles.
* * *
HOPE SURGED TO the surface with a huge gasp as her lungs screamed for air. Mist from the waterfall sprayed her face as she tread water looking frantically for J.T.
Oh, God, please don’t be dead. “J.T.?” she called out, desperately hoping that some kind of luck—even if she didn’t believe in luck—was on their side.
J.T. popped up from beneath the water and she nearly cried with relief. She swam to him and imme
diately went into his arms, so grateful that he was alive that she didn’t care that he was a relative stranger. Immediately aware of the strength rippling in his arms as he held her afloat, she found herself a little breathless.
“You okay?” he asked, and all she could do was nod gratefully.
“You’re alive,” she said, smiling through tears that had suddenly appeared without warning. “I thought you were dead when you didn’t surface right away.”
“More weight...went deeper,” he grunted, his arms tightening around her, water spraying all around them.
“I was scared,” she admitted, pushing away the wet hair clinging to her face. “I thought for sure we were both dead.”
“Not dead yet,” he said with a ragged smile, showing no signs of letting her go, and she was okay with that.
More than okay.
Was it bad that she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go?
Of course it was.
“Well, glad you didn’t die,” Hope said, reluctantly pulling away so she could gather her wits before they floated away along with her self-respect.
“That makes two of us,” he said from behind her as they swam away from the falls to climb onto the rocks lining the bank of the river.
Hope cautiously stood on a slippery flat rock to survey where they’d landed.
“It’s like something off a postcard,” Hope noted with wry amusement at the raw natural beauty of the scenic lagoon as her gaze traveled up the waterfall. She shuddered at how high they’d fallen. Had she really just gone over the falls like a skipping stone? She didn’t even like staying on the top floors of hotels! “But I never want to do that again.”
J.T. paused in shaking his head like a shaggy dog to squint up at the falls. “Yeah, that was an adrenaline rush, wasn’t it? Reminded me of the time I went bungee jumping off the Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado. I thought I was going to piss myself. It was great.”
“I don’t understand the fascination people have with putting themselves in terrifying situations simply for the biochemical response created by saturating your brain with fear hormones.”
J.T. shrugged as if he’d never taken the time to ask the question, nor did he care. “It was fun. We went out for beers afterward. Good times.” He eyed her with interest. “You mean to tell me you’ve never done something simply for the thrill factor?”
“My idea of a thrill does not involve the potential of bodily injury.” Hope made her way gingerly from the rocks toward the bank. Turning to watch him as he followed, and trying to keep from staring at his perfectly molded physique, she added, “Besides, I find scientific discovery thrilling. You may not realize this, but a lab can be filled with excitement.”
He laughed at her claim, but when she cast him a sharp look, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll take your word for it.” He maneuvered around her, holding his hand out to help her navigate the final rock.
Hope slipped and he yanked her into his arms before she could land on her behind. Sheltered in the warm cove of his arms, Hope had a hard time remembering why it wasn’t completely natural to be cozied up to J.T. as if they were a newlywed couple enjoying an exotic honeymoon.
“Thank you,” she murmured, intensely aware of how wonderful it felt to be pressed against all that solid muscle and just how long it’d been since she’d enjoyed the company of the opposite sex.
Hope gazed up at him, unable to break eye contact, even though she knew she should. “Extreme situations often cause an emotional response to the opposite sex that could be misconstrued as attraction,” she explained, not only for his benefit, but for her own.
One dark eyebrow went up. “Are you feeling a misplaced attraction, Dr. Larsen?”
God, yes. “N-no, I was just saying...in case you’re feeling something...that it could be a false notion.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You can let me go now.” But please don’t. Heaven help her, she wanted to do something reckless. Maybe it was the whole falling-off-a-cliff thing that was messing with her head, but it was really hard to ignore the overwhelming urge to seal her lips to his, if only to celebrate that they’d freaking survived what should’ve killed them.
“Those guys were shooting at us,” Hope said, shuddering. “If we hadn’t jumped...”
“Yeah, best not to think about that. Besides, we made it. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Good idea.”
Their lips were inches away from touching. It would be so easy to close the distance. His arms felt warm and secure tucked around her, their bodies fitting together almost perfectly.
“You’re a good guy to have around in a crisis,” she murmured.
“And you bring trouble,” he countered with a sexy grin. “Good thing I like that about you.”
Don’t kiss him. Don’t confuse the adrenaline of the moment with an inappropriate attraction.
The advice was solid, but it took a superhuman effort to disengage her hold around his neck and step away. Leaving the comforting feel of his solid body immediately made her feel vulnerable.
“What kind of snakes are in Mexico? Water snakes? Venomous? Constrictors?” she worried, scanning the dense foliage and the ground for anything that resembled a snake. “That’s all I need, a snake bite to go with this already harrowing experience.”
“I see your precious cargo made the fall, too,” J.T. noted.
She double-checked her bag, breathing a secret sigh of relief when she confirmed that the special carrying case was still locked safely and securely. He frowned as he said, “You know, you could’ve drowned with that thing weighing you down. What’s so special about that cargo that you’re willing to die for it?”
Hope forced a light laugh. “No, no, a deal is a deal. No questions.”
But he wasn’t laughing.
“That was before I was shot at, my plane was ruined and I went over a cliff with nothing more than a prayer. What the hell are you carrying around?”
Take a chance. Tell him. But even as she opened her mouth with the thought, Hope stuffed down the impulse, dismissing it as stupidly reckless—more so than kissing J.T. would’ve been—and switched gears.
She shouldered her pack and offered a sunny smile. “Nope. Best you don’t know. Now, can we get moving? Daylight is wasting.”
“That answer is getting real old,” he growled, running his hands over his head, sending droplets everywhere. “You’re a stubborn thing, you know that?”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’?” she shot back coyly, yet her insides trembled with her need to come clean with J.T. Just get the job done. Deliver the virus. Those were the priorities. What did it matter what her hot pilot thought of her? “And yes, I am stubborn. I think it’s one of my best qualities.”
His gaze snagged on her chest area before bouncing away as if scalded. She gasped when she realized how completely see-through her blouse had become. She might as well have been naked. “Oh, goodness,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I didn’t realize...”
“I didn’t take you for a pink-hearts kind of girl,” he teased gruffly, referencing the tiny hearts that dotted the dainty white bra beneath her blouse.
“Yeah? Why is that?” she asked, laughing past her embarrassment. Would he be shocked to know her panties matched? “You think smart girls don’t like to feel pretty?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t make a habit of shacking up with smart girls,” he admitted with a shrug that was sexy as hell even if his quip did send her internal feminist into a tizzy.
“Which begs the question...what do you have against smart girls?”
“I don’t have anything against smart women,” he said, clarifying. “I try to avoid smart and beautiful. Seems a dangerous
combination. And complicated.”
“Only for a man who isn’t secure enough to handle being with one.”
J.T. staggered as if he’d been shot. “Ouch. You got me.”
“Not that I care what your preferences are,” she said, needing to make that clear, not only for J.T., but for herself. “I’m just making an observation.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”
The word chest made her think breast and reminded her of how J.T. had caught an eyeful, and her nipples pearled when her mind wandered to things best left alone.
J.T., the opportunist, laughed, his green eyes twinkling. “Catch a breeze?”
Hope scowled and started climbing the short bank, needing space between herself and J.T. She could still hear his quiet chuckling from behind her, but before she could whirl around and remind him of their professional relationship, her gaze caught the most beautiful sight in all the jungle—a road!
Embarrassment forgotten, Hope pointed, exclaiming, “There’s a road up ahead. Do you think it’s safe to follow?”
He didn’t have a definitive answer, but they didn’t have much choice. They both knew they couldn’t hole up in the jungle for much longer. “We’ll just have to take our chances,” he said, taking point.
“That sounds dicey,” Hope said, but she agreed it was a risk they had to take. “Here’s hoping we’re not hopping from the frying pan to the fire.”
The road wasn’t exactly maintained by modern standards. In fact, it seemed more of a suggestion than an actual roadway, but at the very least they weren’t fighting jungle branches and slipping in mud up to their knees with every other step, and for that she was grateful.
Bare-chested brown children with shaved dark heads, wearing threadbare cotton shorts, stopped their play to smile shyly at the strangers who had shown up unannounced while the adults assessed them.
The fact that the locals wore Westernized clothing was the one small clue that they weren’t in the most remote village in the Lacandon and that gave her hope. Well, that and the fact that there was an actual road running alongside the village. She’d never been so happy to see asphalt.
The Flyboy's Temptation Page 4
