In the Arms of a Hero

by Beverly Barton

  The soldiers didn’t slow their pace as they passed the palm trees and headed in the direction from which she and Quinn had come. Were they on their way to Delicias? For the sake of Julio and the other villagers, she hoped not.

  Quinn didn’t allow her to stir for at least fifteen minutes after the soldiers disappeared. When he felt reasonably certain that it was safe for them to emerge from hiding, he helped her to stand.

  “You stay right here,” he told her.

  “Quinn,” she called after him when he left her.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He inspected the path for several yards in both directions, but didn’t detect any other soldiers. Maybe they’d gotten lucky this time and those seven rebels had been sent alone for some reason.

  He could have mowed down the seven men and they never would have known what hit them. But then he would have had to dispose of seven corpses. Besides, he figured Victoria had seen enough bloodshed yesterday during their escape from Palmira to do her for a lifetime. He suspected she’d see a lot more before they escaped from Santo Bonisto, but he intended to spare her as much as possible. As long as it didn’t endanger their lives.

  “Come on out,” he told her. “I believe the coast is clear.”

  “Do you think the rebels came from Luquillo?”

  “Possibly. But there’s no way to know for sure. However, I think the wisest thing for us to do is get off this road. If there are more troops in the area, they’re bound to use it.”

  “How are we going to get to Luquillo?”

  “The longest way around,” he told her. “It’ll take us a few more hours, since we’ll have to make our own path through the jungle.”

  “Oh, great! The jungle! How much longer will it take?”

  “We won’t get to Luquillo tonight, which means camping somewhere and heading out again early in the morning.”

  “The way our luck is running, Fidel’s truck will either have four flat tires that can’t be patched or the gasoline tank will be empty, with no gas available.”

  Quinn forced himself to grin. No need to alarm Victoria unnecessarily. But they could face a bigger problem than having to do without Fidel’s truck. If those seven rebel soldiers had come from Luquillo, there was a good chance that more soldiers had remained behind. And there was no way to be certain without going to Luquillo, or at least close enough to Fidel’s village to find out what the situation was.

  If the rebel troops were already in Luquillo, that lowered his chances of taking Victoria safely to Gurabo. And if he couldn’t get her to the capital city, they were in trouble. Really big trouble.

  “Quinn, what’s wrong?” She clasped his arm. “What are you not telling me?”

  Looking her square in the eye, he said, “I’ve told you everything you need to know right now.”

  Her first reaction was to protest his macho protectiveness, but on second thought, she decided to keep quiet. Even if she disagreed with him, she had to admit that in this situation, he was the expert, not her. If they were going to get out of Santo Bonisto alive, it came down to one simple truth—only Quinn’s knowledge and ability could save them. Thank God, when her father hired a man to do a job, he always hired the best.

  “All right,” she said. “But promise me that if…” She hesitated momentarily, her gaze pleading. “If things become hopeless, you’ll tell me.”

  “I promise.” He skimmed her cheek with the back of his rough hand. The look in his eyes affirmed the vow he’d just made to her.

  Long before nightfall, Quinn began searching for a place to make camp. Any place would suit Victoria. Any place she could lay her weary head. She was hot, dirty and tired. Every muscle in her body ached. The M-1 had grown heavier with every mile and occasionally she’d been tempted to dispose of it. And to make matters worse, the insect repellent Quinn had insisted she use possessed a distinctively repugnant odor that lingered on her skin.

  They had been walking since dawn and if it hadn’t been for the regular breaks Quinn insisted on taking, she wasn’t sure she’d still be standing. They had been steadily climbing higher and higher and the altitude played havoc with her breathing. Quinn, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, which she knew wasn’t possible. The man was, after all, human. Or was he?

  During the trek through the jungle, Quinn had taken advantage of native pathways, but when there were none, he’d sliced his way through the thicket. Thankfully, the only problem they’d had to deal with, other than a couple of snakes, after their narrow escape from being caught by rebel soldiers had been Victoria’s exhaustion.

  “Up ahead,” Quinn told her. “See that rock formation, the one that looks like a giant boulder?”

  “Yes, I see it.”

  A variety of epiphytic plants encrusted the rough-surfaced boulder. The trees grew taller in this part of the jungle and the verdant canopy was thicker, blocking out the evening sunlight. An abundance of lush plant life sprouted from the moist ground. Compared to the sweltering heat of the tropical sun, the ravine seemed deliciously cool.

  “We’ll set up camp here,” he said as he led her toward the sheltered spot beneath the giant boulder. “I can hear running water, so I’m pretty sure there’s a stream nearby. I’ll check it out later.”

  She sighed at the thought of burying herself in a pool of refreshing water. “I’d give anything for a bath.”

  “Anything?” he teased.

  She glared at him, but when she saw the lopsided grin on his face, her stinging retort died on her lips. “Well, almost anything,” she corrected and returned his smile.

  Quinn helped her remove her backpack, then removed his. When she started to sit on a nearby log, he clutched her arm to keep her from sitting.

  “Let’s put something over that log first,” he said. “No use tempting any biting insects.” He retrieved a rain jacket from his pack and spread it out for her.

  Victoria’s hips melted onto the jacket, then she bent, braced her elbows on her upper thighs and supported her head between her open palms. Quinn nudged her knee with the side of his calf. Lifting her head, she peered up at him. He handed her a canteen.

  “Thanks.” She drank her fill of the tepid water and handed the canteen back to Quinn.

  “Rest here,” he said. “But keep your rifle handy, just in case. I’m going to see if I can find that stream.”

  Don’t leave me, she wanted to cry, but instead said, “I hope it’s deep enough to swim in.”

  “If it is, we can go skinny-dipping.”

  Before she could respond, Quinn disappeared into the forest, leaving Victoria with her mouth agape. The thought of swimming in the nude appealed to her, but sharing that experience with Quinn McCoy ignited both apprehension as well as excitement within her.

  Unfortunately the stream turned out to be narrow and shallow, providing no opportunity for a real bath. However, Quinn refilled their canteens from the underground spring that fed the small stream, which no doubt eventually spilled over into a larger stream that wound its way to the river. He stood guard, with his back to her, while she partially undressed and washed herself. Then she did the same for him.

  They dined on tortillas Julio had packed that morning and on fresh fruit, washing it all down with cool water from the stream. Afterward, Quinn arranged two light blankets on the ground.

  “Before you turn in, you’d better let me rub you down with insect repellent,” he said. “You probably washed most of it off.”

  Victoria groaned. “I know I need that stuff, but I hate the smell.”

  Quinn chuckled. “It’s not so bad. And with both of us stinking, it’s kind of like eating onions and both of us having bad breath.”

  “Would you like me to do you first?” she asked, not realizing the suggestive connotation Quinn would give her words.

  “Might be more fun if we do each other at the same time.”

  She stared questioningly at him for a couple of seconds, then realization dawned. “Oh, very funny, Mr
. McCoy. I was referring to applying the insect repellent, and you darn well know it.”

  “Yeah, but a guy can hope, can’t he?”

  She didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. How could a woman know with a man such as Quinn? She assumed he was joking, hoping he could alleviate some of the tension their nerve-racking situation had created. But what if he’d been even partly serious? What if his teasing had actually been a proposition?

  Get real, she told herself. If Quinn wants me, it’s because he needs a woman and I’m available. Maybe he made a practice of seducing all the women he rescued. If that was the case, then she was definitely offended. She didn’t like the idea of being lumped together with all the other women in his life— Victoria Fortune, what are you thinking! snapped that little voice. She was thinking about having sex with Quinn. A man she barely knew. A man she didn’t especially like.

  What was it about him that aroused such strong emotions in her?

  Treat him the way you treat your brothers, the voice decreed. Pretend he’s just another of your male acquaintances who thinks of you as a buddy.

  No way on earth she could think of Quinn the way she did her brothers or her male friends. He was different from any man she’d ever known, and she was both attracted and repulsed by him in equal measures.

  She rummaged in her knapsack for the insect repellent, making sure her eyes didn’t meet his when she spoke. “If you’re going to be offensive, then I withdraw my offer. You can just rub yourself—” She froze midsentence, realizing that once again he would twist her words to suit his own meaning. She grabbed the bottle out of the knapsack. “Oh, you know what I mean, so don’t go getting all—”

  Lightning-fast, he descended upon her, cutting off her breath as he snatched the bottle out of her hands and jerked her onto her feet. “Why don’t you just stop talking while you’re ahead, honey? If you keep this up, you’re going to convince me that you’re after my body.”

  Huffing loudly, her eyes wide and round, she shoved against his chest. “Of all the ridiculous things for you to… I’ll have you know… Why, you’re the last man on earth I’d—”

  Quinn wrapped his arms around her, bringing her body intimately against his, aligning their lower bodies for a perfect fit. Gasping when she felt his blatant arousal, Victoria told herself to get away from him as quickly as possible. But her traitorous body refused to comply with her wishes. Instead she lifted her arms up and around his neck and gazed spellbound into his sexy blue eyes.

  Five

  I’m making a big mistake, Quinn told himself. Flirting with Victoria Fortune would be like playing with fire—he’d never know for sure who would get burned or how severely. But he couldn’t help himself. How could he resist the look in her eyes, the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest, the seductive sensation of her arms wrapped around him? While his mind cautioned him to back off, to use common sense, his body responded as would any man’s under similar circumstances.

  Gripping her hip, he shoved her more intimately into contact with his hardened sex. Moaning deep in her throat, she closed her eyes. He lowered his head and touched her lips with a featherlight kiss. Her mouth opened on a tremulous sigh. Light shudders shook her from head to toe. With her lips parted, Quinn accepted the unspoken invitation to take what she was offering.

  His kiss devoured. It ravaged. It possessed completely. He wanted her, wanted her badly. Here. Now. On the ground.

  The overwhelming sense of belonging to Quinn erased any reservations Victoria had. In that one illogical moment, her mind ceased to function and she reacted purely on instinct. Something she seemed doomed to do again and again with Quinn.

  Reserved at first, she returned his kiss shyly. But with each demanding thrust of his tongue, her self-restraint eroded until she claimed him as surely as he did her.

  As a chained demon unleashed, Quinn’s hunger controlled his actions; his mouth surveyed her face, her ears and her throat. All the while his hands explored her body, caressing, inflaming, heating his desire to the boiling point. When he covered her breast with one hand and squeezed, her closed eyelids flew open and she stared at him, the look a mixture of longing and surprise.

  Victoria suddenly realized how out of control the situation had become and how easily she had succumbed to Quinn’s amorous attack. He had swept her away with his passion.

  Never breaking eye contact with him, she covered his hand with hers and removed it from her breast. Then she wriggled in an effort to free herself from his embrace. He released her slowly, as if doing so pained him. She stepped backward, putting several feet between them. He stood unmoving and silent. His breathing labored. His nostrils flared. His sex throbbed.

  She didn’t know what to say. Had no idea how to defuse the tension radiating between them. But she did know that if he touched her again, she’d be lost. Barely knowing Quinn and in spite of being uncertain about her feelings for him, she had to admit that she wanted him in a way she’d never wanted another man.

  Quinn broke eye contact, turned on his heels and stomped away into the forest. Victoria slumped onto one of the blankets he had spread out on the ground. Why had she put her arms around his neck? Why had she allowed him to kiss her? Had she lost her mind? This wasn’t some good-ole-boy friend of her brothers. He wasn’t one of her college buddies. Nor was he one of her associates. He was a hired soldier of fortune, a ruthless stranger whose only interest in her was her father’s millions.

  Victoria curled up in a fetal ball, hugging her knees, as she listened for Quinn’s footsteps. She waited and waited and waited. Her eyelids grew heavy. She yawned several times. Where was Quinn? Why didn’t he come back and talk to her? Was he angry that she had rejected his advances?

  Quinn watched Victoria from afar, knowing he had to stay away from her until he had regained complete control of himself. He didn’t usually go off the deep end, the way he’d done with Victoria. It was as if she possessed some kind of unnatural power over him.

  He’d had more than his share of women and sex had always been a wild ride for him. He kept his romantic liaisons on a strictly impersonal, sex-only, no-commitments basis. He liked things that way and sure as hell didn’t want more from any woman. Certainly not from Victoria.

  First of all, he was her bodyguard. Hired to rescue and protect her. He never became involved with clients, although he had been tempted a couple of times. Second, Victoria was out of his league. She’d been born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, the daughter of a multi-millionaire. He always avoided personal entanglements with rich women. And third, he figured that Victoria wasn’t the type to indulge in meaningless affairs. Even on such brief acquaintance, he suspected she was the kind of woman who’d confuse sex with love.

  When he was certain she had fallen asleep, he returned to their makeshift camp. Gazing down at her in the moonlight, he couldn’t help thinking about how young and wholesome she looked and how truly lovely she was. Trim without being skinny, slender without being delicate, her body was firm and toned.

  The heat of day had died, leaving behind a damp coolness that seeped into the bones. After picking up his blanket, Quinn spread it over her. He positioned the M-16 at the edge of Victoria’s blanket, then lay beside her and shared the cover. He turned his back on her, making sure their bodies didn’t touch.

  He didn’t dare allow himself the luxury of falling deeply asleep so that he could truly rest. He doubted any rebel troops were moving through the jungle at night, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances. His years of experience had taught him how to doze and yet remain alert enough to sense any hint of danger.

  Victoria stirred in her sleep, uttering a tiny, gurgling sigh. Quinn’s body tensed when she rolled toward him. Cuddling against his back, she threw her arm around his waist. He tried to shrug her off, but the harder he tried to dislodge her, the more she snuggled against him. Her full breasts pressed against his shoulder blades. Her thighs hugged the back of his.

&nbs
p; He couldn’t rest this way. Hell, if she remained glued to him this way for the rest of the night, he’d go stark, raving mad. Give it some time, he told himself. Sooner or later, she’d turn over and he would be able to move out of her reach.

  So he waited as his body fought and lost the battle of control. This wasn’t working, he admitted silently. She was draped all over him! He eased her arm from around his waist. She grumbled in her sleep. He sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t wake. Inch by inch, he slid away from her, untangling himself from the blankets. He maneuvered himself onto the damp earth, then turned in time to see her roll over onto her back.

  Within minutes she began to snore. Quinn chuckled to himself. Poor kid, she had to be exhausted. After picking up his M-16, he reached down, lifted the edge of Victoria’s blanket and covered her with it, tucking the edges around her. He took his own thin blanket with him as he headed toward the nearest tree. Using the blanket like a cape, he sat and braced his back against the knotted tree trunk. He laid his gun across his thighs, then closed his eyes and prayed for an uneventful night.

  Quinn awakened Victoria at dawn, then hurried her through a quick breakfast of dried fruit and nuts. She seemed to be in a relatively good mood, cooperating with him fully. Neither of them mentioned what had happened between them the night before, but the fact was there, just below the surface, affecting everything they said or did. Both were now equally aware of the sexual tension that made each a little more wary of the other.

  “If my calculations are correct, it shouldn’t take more than two hours to reach Luquillo this morning,” he told her. “We could be in Gurabo this afternoon.”

  “Let’s just hope Fidel’s truck is in working order.”

  “Think positive thoughts.”

  She pasted a halfhearted smile on her face as they headed off onto one of the many pig trails that dissected the jungle. She kept pace with Quinn, whom she knew had adjusted himself to her gait. During their trek, she found herself musing over the breadth of his shoulders, the slenderness of his waist, the tautness of his buttocks, the power in his arms and legs. No woman could deny that he was an incredibly beautiful male specimen. No, not beautiful, she thought. The word was too feminine to suit such a masculine man. Perfect was a better word. Perfect male specimen. Tall, but not too tall. Big, but not too big. Handsome, but not a pretty boy.