“Is escaping into the jungle part of the Tecala plan?” Bethany questioned. Glancing upward there was nothing but darkness. Damn, the jungle was creepy at night.
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?” She tripped, catching herself against a tree. Her hand slipped on the slick bark and something stabbed it. Yelping, she yanked her hand away and tripped again.
“Are you hurt?” Xavier grabbed her before she fell.
“I’m okay”, she replied even as her hand throbbed to painful life. She grimaced, thinking about Tomas’s burrowing bug story. It’s a story, she told herself. She did not have a bug working its way into her skin.
Her hand could wait. A strap from her pack brushed it, and she clenched her teeth to keep from hissing in pain then pulled her hand close so nothing else could touch it.
Voices carried through the heavy air. Closer, she was sure of it. But there was no light to give away their pursuers’ position.
Hell, her hand would have to wait. “I thought they weren’t supposed to follow us in here,” Bethany whispered.
“They’re not,” Xavier growled. “They’re better than I thought.”
“You don’t have to be nice,” she said. They both knew why the soldiers changed tactics—her shout when she slipped and hit the tree.
“Stay quiet.” He led her off the game trail and under the canopy. Fifty feet in, he pulled her behind a tree. “Stay here. Stay quiet. And for God’s sake, stay hidden. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, go home.”
Home? She opened her mouth to argue but he was already gone.
With a huff of frustration, Bethany remained kneeling and tried to ignore the bugs that crawled around her and over her. She brushed something off her arm, shuddering.
Damn, she hated bugs.
Time crawled as she waited and the voices grew closer. One in particular sounded excited, and she perked up at the tone.
Had they found something? Xavier? A trail?
Keeping low, she peeked around the trunk. There were lights on the game trail but no shouting. One of the lights swung her way, and she ducked behind the tree and shut her eyes.
There’s nothing here. Nothing here. No one.
She was a moron for looking. And if she escaped detection, she promised herself she’d listen next time. She wouldn’t peek or give in to her curiosity. She’d sit and be quiet.
Please God, let there be a next time.
There was a crackling behind her, but before she could react, a dark shadow put its hand over her mouth. She bit down hard.
He didn’t let go. “Time to go. And less biting would be nice.”
Xavier. She relaxed her jaw. Using his wrist as a prop, she wavered to her feet, trying to ignore her throbbing palm. “Sorry.”
Taking her hand, he guided her back to the path. The soldiers were gone, working back the way they’d came.
“Stay close,” he whispered, heading into the jungle, increasing their pace until they were running in the dark.
Chapter 8
“How are you holding up?”
Her hand hurt, her nerves were shot and the thought of leaving Sebastian and Tomas to draw Veron away because she sucked at jungle guiding both pissed her off and made her sick to her stomach. “I’m fine.”
Xavier slowed to a walk, and Bethany took the opportunity to glance over her shoulder. There was no sign of their pursuers. No sound besides the screeches and howls that had become familiar over the past two days.
Xavier stopped. “We’ll camp here for the night.”
“Is it safe?”
“Safe enough. Besides, I don’t want to cross a river at night unless we have to.”
Bethany cocked her head and pulled the sound of moving water from the jungle noises that assaulted her ears. One more push through the leaves and she found herself standing at its banks.
Despite the break in the canopy overhead, the darkness was complete, and Bethany sensed that there was no sloping, sandy bank at her feet.
Something crawled over her arm and she brushed it off. Another took its place. “There are bugs everywhere.” Now that they’d stopped moving, she and Xavier were fast becoming something new and exciting to climb.
Her hand throbbed harder.
“Let’s pitch the tent,” Xavier declared. “Fast. And away from the game trail. I don’t want to run into the jaguar again or any of his healthier friends.”
She shuddered, grateful they had carried one of the tents because she doubted that they’d build a fire, and she didn’t want to spend the night fending off six-and eight-legged animals instead of sleeping.
Moving off the trail, they pitched the tent in minutes. Bethany tossed both packs to the back and crawled inside, flicking off bugs as she went.
Xavier zipped the tent closed and fell beside her. “Damn, it’s crawling out there.”
She smiled in the dark. “Does it bug you?”
He groaned at the pun.
“Couldn’t resist,” she teased, chuckling. Something tickled her cheek. and she brushed it away, hissing at the sharp pain when her palm brushed against her hair.
“What’s wrong?” Xavier asked.
For a moment, she considered saying nothing but being in constant and increasing pain would slow them down. She’d done plenty of that already. “It’s my hand,” she admitted. “When I fell, something either bit me or stuck me.”
Xavier didn’t swear or castigate her. She heard him rummaging through his pack and seconds later, he flicked on a flashlight.
The nylon walls of the tent glowed. “Is that smart?” she pointed out, nodding at the light.
“No.” He held out his hand and she put out hers palm up. The fleshy part below her thumb was red. “But leaving a wound untended in the jungle is even dumber. You know that.”
He pulled it closer, frowning.
“Are there…” Bethany hesitated. “Eggs?”
“No eggs.” He glanced up, his face highlighted by the flashlight like a Halloween lantern. “Tomas got to you, didn’t he?”
She nodded. “What is it? What did I touch?”
He laid her hand in her lap and went back into his pack. “No idea, but it doesn’t look like a bug bite.” He pulled out a pair of tweezers. “It looks like a very nasty thorn.”
She held her hand out again, looking away. She had dealt with other people’s wounds without a problem. She’d bound broken bones, applied pressure to stop arterial blood flow and once, she had stitched a large gash closed with dental floss.
But her own body was where she wussed out.
“Hold this.” Xavier handed her the scissors. The tweezers touched her flesh. She flinched.
“Hold still. I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Yet? That’s comforting.”
Eyes squeezed half-shut, she peeked through her lashes at the proceedings with both horror and fascination.
“Just a minute,” Xavier proclaimed, using the pointed metal ends to probe into her flesh. She hissed in pain, jerking her hand away.
He glared at her. “Damn it, Bethany. I have got to get that out.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder unless you want to do it.”
She shook her head. The one thing worse than someone else trying to fix her was trying to fix herself. A part of her hoped that in a pinch, she’d be able to do what was needed.
Yet here she was, letting Xavier fix the situation for her.
But this wasn’t a pinch.
With a sigh of sympathy, he brushed her cheek. “Trust me.”
“I do.” And she did. Most of the time.
“Take a deep breath,” he said. “In.”
She inhaled.
“Exhale.”
She breathed out.
“Now give me your hand and keep breathing. Focus on your breathing.”
She held out her hand and did as instructed. Xavier held her hand, nothing more. “Keep breathing.”
She breathed d
eep, trying to keep her attention on the sounds of the air pushing in and out of her body.
“I’m going to take the thorn out,” he described. “It won’t hurt.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She believed him. He was a rebel, a leader and a mercenary. But he was also gentle, strong and would take care of her if she let him. She didn’t doubt that for a second.
“Breathe.”
She felt the same pricking as she before and took a deep breath.
Just breathe. She inhaled.
“Done.” He let go her hand.
Bethany exhaled with a whoosh. “Done?”
He grinned at her, and she pointed the flashlight to his palm. In the center was a small thorn with barbed edges. “What is it?”
“No idea,” he replied. “But I think you’ll be able to keep the hand.”
“Funny.” Bethany smacked him on the shoulder with her good hand, but her wounded hand was feeling better already. “Should we put something on it?”
Reaching past her, he unzipped the tent a few inches and tossed the thorn outside. “A little antibiotic,” Xavier said, rummaging in the pack again and coming back with a small tube and a bandage. “Hand out.”
She wiggled her fingers at him.
Xavier grabbed her wrist with a chuckle. “You did good,” he noted, smearing the ointment onto the wound. She noticed that the redness was already fading.
“Maybe,” she responded, warming at the praise even though she knew she’d acted anything but good.
“Everybody has their issues,” he declared, smoothing the bandage over the wound. “You didn’t let it stop you. That is what’s important.”
“Well, it wasn’t like I had a choice,” she observed, her world spiraling in to center on his touch.
His thumb stroked her palm in a careless gesture that made her shivers coil outward. She swallowed hard, but the building desire refused to fade.
“We should go to sleep,” she said.
Did he have a clue what he did to her?
“We should,” he agreed, his voice catching.
Bethany glanced from where their hands met to Xavier’s dark eyes. He needed her, as well. Without pain and fear as a distraction, memories of last night rolled over her. Her body curled up with Xavier’s as they shared the burden of fear.
And the taste of his mouth and the strength in his touch.
Oh, this was bad.
He took the light from her hand. “Sleep is a good idea.”
She knew that he meant anything but that.
He flicked off the light.
The darkness was complete.
Sitting in the blackness, Xavier kissed Bethany’s fingertips. It had been over a year since he’d been with a woman. Before then, there had been sex with women he had cared for, but those moments of two bodies coming together was mutual satisfaction and nothing more.
Bethany was different. Until he had met her, he hadn’t known what he wanted in woman. He thought he knew. Sweet. Kind. Smart. Sexy. His former lovers were all those things. So was Bethany.
But he wanted more. He wanted strength. Courage. Someone who valued honor and family as much as he did. A companion in all ways.
And he’d found that in Bethany. Being with her would never be just sex. Could never be just sex.
“Xavier?” Bethany whispered his name in the dark. She wove her fingers through his.
Leaning over, he traced a path up her arm and tangled his fingers in her hair. “I’m going to make love to you,” he murmured, giving her the choice to turn him down and praying to God that she wouldn’t.
“I know.”
He heard her breath quicken.
“You can say no if you choose.”
She covered the hand on her cheek with her bandaged one. “Make love to me.”
He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her to him, meeting her halfway. Slowly, he traced her lower lip with his tongue. She tasted like salt and desire and opened to him without hesitation.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her forever. Kiss every inch of skin from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and then work his way up again.
Untangling his hand from hers, he slid it up the back of her shirt. Soft skin covered muscle that came from hiking and working in the wilderness.
He wished he could turn on the light. See her beautiful back, her sleek body and watch her flush when he was inside her. The thought of entering her made him groan.
She giggled.
He smiled. He’d never heard her giggle before. It was an unexpectedly girlish sound, and one he wanted to hear more often.
She ran her hand up his thigh until she touched his erection. “Mine,” she whispered, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants.
He groaned again.
Bethany smiled at the sound, enjoying the feel of Xavier twitching beneath her hand. It was heady, having that much power over him.
“Yours?” Xavier asked.
“Yes.” She squeezed him again.
“Vixen.” With a firm hand, he pushed her back onto the sleeping bag. There was a zipping sound as he opened the side panels of the tent, leaving the mosquito mesh in place. The sounds of the night filled the small space.
Then another zipping sound caught her attention. She leaned up on her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“Protection.”
“You brought protection?” She didn’t think he’d brought it for her since Sebastian had brought their gear, but it made her wonder.
“For water,” Xavier explained.
“Water?”
“A condom can hold a gallon of water. In a pinch, we can use one for transport.”
“A condom as a water bottle. Wow, that’s hot,” she teased.
“If all it takes is a condom full of water to arouse you, wait until you see what I do with a sock,” Xavier said, chuckling.
Bethany giggled again. It felt so good to know she could laugh with him. This wasn’t just sex, and it should be a cause for celebration.
The air shifted as he moved to her side. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her neck.
She arched upward, letting her hands roam over his shoulders. “How can you tell? It’s pitch black. I might have a weird deformity.”
Xavier chuckled. “I am sure your body is perfect, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.” He slid both hands under her shirt, drawing tiny circles on her skin, and moving toward her shoulders. Taking a moment to rub the stiffness from her muscles, he pulled her shirt over her head. Leaning over her, he kissed the skin over her heart. “I was talking about this.” He kissed her again. “This is beautiful.”
For a moment, she thought it might break at his kindness and her own duplicity. Her laughter faded.
Then he kissed his way up her chest, over her shoulder to her neck, skimmed her lips and kissed her forehead. “And this,” he said. “Muy bonita.”
She didn’t deserve this or him, but she didn’t care. She wanted him. Wanted to be who he thought she was. She pulled him to her mouth and felt his smile as he kissed her. His hands roamed over her torso, skimmed her sides and slid her bra off her shoulders.
“Impressive,” she said, tossing the scrap of material to the corner above her head. “I didn’t even feel you unhook it.”
He chuckled then did the same to the rest of her clothes until she was naked in the dark. Bethany wriggled, both exhilarated and nervous to be so exposed in both mind and body.
The swish of clothes told her that he was undressing, and the sound of a wrapper ripping told her what was about to happen next. Her breath quickened and body tightened at the thought of Xavier inside her, her hands on his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his hips.
Moments later, he lay next to her—heated skin against heated skin, hip to hip. He stroked her back again and kissed her neck. “I can’t wait,” he whispered.
“I wasn’t asking you to.”
Rolling her over, he parted her thig
hs with his knee. “This is just to take the edge off,” he whispered, sliding into her.
“Oh, God,” Bethany groaned as her body tightened around him. It had been too long since she’d been with a man. She was going to topple over before she had time to enjoy the sensations that pulsed through her.
He moved inside her with a slowness that pushed her closer to the edge, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not wanting the moment to end.
“Tu boca es una dulce tentación,” he whispered, kissing her in the dark. He thrust again, and she bit her bottom lip as her body tightened into a familiar spiral.
Not yet. Not yet.
“Let go, Bethany,” Xavier muttered. Reaching between them as he stroked her with his thumb. “Let go.”
Her body didn’t give her a choice as a climax rushed over. Bethany arched upward, fingers digging into Xavier’s back while she clenched her jaw to keep from crying out.
She raked her nails down him, and in the recesses of her mind, knew that taking the edge off her desire for him was a hopeless fantasy. She wanted to teeter on the edge forever. Instead, he remained deep inside her as he pulled her upward, raking her along his hips and prolonging her climax, and from the groan that echoed through the tent—his own agony.
Finally, she relaxed beneath him and he kissed her forehead. “That was amazing.” She lifted her chin and kissed him back.
The scent of sex and sweat hung between them. He thrust into her again, making her gasp. “You assume it’s over.”
“It’s not?”
He withdrew, and this time, there was nothing slow or gentle about the way he entered her. “It’s not.”
Bethany wrapped herself around him. He made love to her until another climax claimed her, and then he let go, joining her.
Bethany lay on her side, watching Xavier sleep in the morning light that filtered through the canopy and into their small tent.
Being careful not to wake him, she inched her hand toward him and pushed a strand of hair from his forehead and traced a thin scar that started on his temple and went into his hairline. Last night had been amazing. She’d never had anyone make love to her with such intensity or thoroughness. She wanted more. She wanted Xavier. He made her feel like the person she pretended to be.
Mercenary’s Promise Page 10
