by Jill Shalvis
Then they climbed out of the plane. That alone took great effort as they were deeply embedded in bush. Rick had to cut branches away so they could leap down. He went first, and though he jumped, lithely hitting the ground, he sat for a long moment afterward, holding his head.
“Rick!”
“I’m okay.” But he was green when he stood, reaching to help her down.
Around them, trees and plants grappled for space in the hot, damp perpetual summer climate. They set out walking, Rick looking down at the compass he’d found in the survival kit. Around them broadleaf evergreens made up the main tropical growth. There were tree ferns as well, tall with delicate crowns some as high as a six-story building.
And though it was the middle of the day, the light had to filter through the growth, which muted it to early dusk.
By dark, it would be terrifying. The whole situation terrified Nina. “You know there are lots of hungry creatures out here in the jungle, right?” She craned her neck, checking to make sure none of those creatures were following them.
“We’re hungrier.”
“I do not know, the capybara eats a lot.”
He slowed and looked at her. “Capybara?”
“A hundred-pound rat.”
“Oh, that.” He swallowed hard and started moving again. “Nina?”
“Yes?”
“Stay right behind me.”
“Okay. Have you seen an anaconda before? They are forty feet long—that is the height of a four-story building in case you were wondering. They swallow their prey whole. Keep your eyes out for one of those.”
His back and shoulders were wide, strong, beautiful. And very tense. “Nina?”
“Yes?”
“Watch where you put your feet.”
She watched her feet and followed him.
And followed.
It seemed they walked forever and a day through the tropical vegetation. The ferns, grasses and other flowering plants had all attained great height and volume, sometimes taking on strange shapes that fed her imagination. There was bamboo too, some only several inches high, some giants more than 120 feet.
Exhausted, Nina looked at her watch. They’d been walking only three hours.
Rick never slowed, and she couldn’t help but feel there was more to his urgency and desperation to get them to safety than he had indicated.
Not that he was talking.
He was in front of her, whacking his way through the heaviest growth with the biggest pocketknife she’d ever seen—which he’d taken out of his pant leg.
“How many more weapons are you hiding?”
“Plenty,” came his grim reply, reminding her that this man truly lived on the edge at all times.
More hours passed. Soon it would be nightfall. Rick was breathing hard, too hard in her opinion, and his head was bleeding again, right through the strip of cloth they’d ripped off the hem of his shirt. “Rick, we have to stop.”
He looked at her, his shirt damp and clinging to his body, his eyes dark and intense. Around him, lianas and woody vines, some as thick as a man’s body, hung like cables. An alien world, yet he looked at home. She had a feeling he’d look at home anywhere. Only she could see the pain he struggled to hide, and the exhaustion.
“You’re not okay?” he asked.
She was, she supposed, but he wasn’t, not that he’d admit it. He needed to rest. “I need to lie down.”
His expression assured her she hadn’t fooled him, but he complied. They found a small clearing, and together set up the tent, which was the size of a postage stamp. “We cannot both fit in there,” she said, knowing neither of them could rest without the dubious protection of the tent.
“It’s meant for at least four people.” Rick nudged her in and followed. “We’ll manage.”
Yes, if they were on top of each other.
When they were both inside, on their knees, facing each other, Rick shook his head. “Okay, it’s a tight fit.” He looked shaky, and she scooted as far back as she could before opening his pack and taking out some water and crackers.
“Lie down,” she said gently. “Please,” she added when he would have resisted. Taking the matter out of his hands, she helped him stretch out, then fell against his side when he tugged on her.
“You lie down, too,” he said, opening his arms. “Come here.”
His body, hot and hurting, felt solid and familiar beneath hers. He was there for her, which was more than she could say about anyone else in her life. Overwhelmed, she wrapped herself around him, and he held her with his big, warm hands, allowing her to bask in the closeness. “Rick...”
“I know. You feel good.” He pressed his face to her throat. “Good and alive. I like that in a woman.”
Making a satisfied sound of agreement, she slid her hands beneath his shirt, seeking more of that warmth because she couldn’t seem to get enough. Somehow, he took the emptiness from deep inside her, the emptiness threatening to swallow her up, and filled it.
“When I first realized we were going down,” he said against her skin, “all I could think was, I had to keep you safe.” He hugged her hard. “And I couldn’t.”
She closed her eyes to the reassuring masculine sound of his voice. “But you did.” Her body hummed now, with something much more than fear, and she pressed even closer. “You did.”
In the wake of the terror they’d survived, his holding her was a relief, but a pleasure, too.
Suddenly more pleasure than relief.
“Rick...”
He groaned, and when she might have backed away, he pulled her tighter to him. “Not yet. Don’t go away yet.”
He’d been hurt. He didn’t trust. Maybe he never would. There could certainly never be a future between them without that trust, but she couldn’t walk away.
Not yet.
“Nina.” His mouth nuzzled at her ear. “Hold me.”
“I will. I am.” She was on his lap, straddling him so that she could feel every hard, perfect inch of him. The slow burn in the pit of her belly took flame, and she couldn’t have stopped the gentle rocking of her hips to his erection to save her life.
He gripped her tight, urging her on, coaxing her body to fit itself to his in an attempt to put out the fire.
She could feel the pumping of his blood, or maybe that was hers. There’d be no resisting, not now, maybe not ever, at least not on her part. Much as she knew pulling away to be the smart thing, her body simply wouldn’t, couldn’t, and driven by this overwhelming desire and hunger, she closed her eyes and let it take her.
He touched her, and everywhere he did, she smoldered for more. Her breasts, her belly. Between her thighs.
Her head spun with the unrelenting need.
Somehow his jeans opened. Somehow her skirt bunched up around her waist. Somehow her hands were in his shorts, touching him. He was fully erect, needing release, and she was equally desperate.
“Have to...” He gripped her bottom in his kneading fingers. “Have to feel you.”
“Yes. Now.” Shamelessly panting, shamelessly wet and ready, she rubbed herself over him.
They were both lost then. He pulled her down on him, smoothing her panties aside to let him in. “Like this, Nina, here—” With a low, rough sound, he guided her over him, while she tore at his shirt buttons so that she could open her mouth on his bare chest. When he slid into her, they both let out a long, gratifying moan, and then again when he thrust into her with rising fervor, using his fingers, his mouth, everywhere, until she was a quivering, heated mass on the very edge. Knowing her inside and out now, as no one else ever had, he easily drove her off that edge, flying with her, and they both came with a long, thready cry.
Stunned, shaken, they sank together and let sleep claim them.
* * *
NINA CAME AWAKE to Rick holding her close, his mouth to her ear. It was nice, and she snuggled in.
Then he whispered, “We’re going to get out of this, Nina, I promise you,” and reali
ty came back all too quickly.
With a sigh she opened her eyes and took in the dim light that told her it was very early morning. Her entire body ached, and thanks to waking up every hour or so to check on Rick, she still felt exhausted. “A promise.” Her hands were slow to leave him. “And here I thought you never made them.”
“I don’t.” Over her head, he frowned. “That is, I don’t make any I can’t keep.”
“I never asked you for any promises.”
“You should.” His hands streaked up and down her back, not a gentle, tender touch, but a solid, life-affirming one, and she gripped him back just as hard, looking right into his eyes when he cupped her face and tilted it up. “You should be asking me for all sorts of things,” he said, looking unhappy with himself.
He had no idea how much that only made her care all the more. “Such as?”
“Commitment. Marriage.” His mouth went grim. “Love.”
“Since you say that as if it is a dirty word, you will excuse me for not asking you for a thing. Especially that.” With another sigh, she shifted off him. “I guess we ought to get moving again.”
He looked at her, concerned.
He wasn’t going to let this go, and she had no intention of letting him know she’d so stupidly fallen for him. “Rick, we have known each other for less than a week. Did you think I expected commitment, marriage and love after such a short time?” She lifted a shoulder. “Just concentrate on getting us out of here.”
“Nina—”
“Come on,” she said, reaching out a hand, not wanting him to look too closely, to see she wanted exactly those things she’d just scoffed.
He stared at her for a long moment, so long she feared he was going to push the issue, but he took her hand.
* * *
AROUND THEM the jungle was a study of motion and sound. If it was sunny or raining or cloudy or even all of the above, she had no earthly clue, since the sky couldn’t be seen through the thick growth around them. Nina felt as if they’d penetrated some secret green facade as they wound their way through a maze of unbranched trunks that soared upward, their crowns indistinguishable among the high latticework of foliage. Flowers were everywhere, wafting a heavy fragrance when the wind blew.
“Watch out for that nut tree,” she said worriedly as Rick passed it. The entire thing was filled with heavily encased pods of nuts. If one of those landed on his head, it would surely kill him.
Or her.
She had no idea how anyone could find their way out of this place, but Rick had a compass and he said he knew what he was doing, that if they kept walking this way, they’d eventually come to the Amazon River. Once on the river, they’d be able to flag down help.
Probably.
That word, and all the others, which included poisonous snakes, hungry caimans—a relative of the alligator—and deadly insects, were jumping around in her brain.
So was exhaustion.
Every few minutes, Rick would turn around and just look at her.
“What?” she finally asked, dripping in sweat, sore and aching, and not feeling particularly charitable toward the man who wouldn’t say what was in his heart. “What do you keep looking at?”
“You.”
She saw things in his eyes, things she’d dreamed of, like warmth and affection, and as they had to be a mirage in this endless heat and humidity, she got mad. “Well, stop it. You are giving me ideas.”
“Ideas?”
“Ideas that would make you run screaming.”
“Like?”
“Oh, no,” she said on a mirthless laugh. “I will not go there, just to be told—politely, mind you—that you do not do those things. I already know that, so just...just stop looking at me.”
“Nina—”
“Walk, Rick. We will get nowhere standing here, miserable in each other’s company.”
“I didn’t know we were miserable in each other’s company.”
“Pay attention then.”
His jaw tight, he turned around again.
Silent.
As they walked this time, he didn’t look back.
* * *
“RICK?”
He didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to see the exhaustion and temper in Nina’s eyes. Didn’t want to feel his heart tug good and hard as it did every time he so much as thought of her, which was only every living second. He hacked at a long, winding branch. “Yeah?”
“Why did the pilot die?”
He’d wondered how long it would take her to put the clues together. How long before she came out of shock enough to realize they were in far bigger trouble than any crash landing in the middle of the Amazon rain forest.
“You should be saving your energy.” Stopping, he searched the immediate area around them, which was nothing but green, green and more green. A virtual wall of dense growth garlanded with hanging lianas.
Oh, and the heat. He couldn’t forget the overwhelming, all-consuming, drenching heat.
But he’d paid damn good attention while crash landing, and with the help of the compass, he could get them to the river. From there, they’d pay someone to take them to the closest village.
Theoretically anyway.
“You are keeping things close inside, as always,” Nina said, miffed.
Yes, it was a special talent of his. “We’re getting closer to the river. But I think it’s still several miles off. And we—”
“Yes, yes, we have to get there before nightfall because if we are lucky, we will find a village, or at the very least somebody to borrow a river boat from. You have said. Several times. But what you have not said, Rick, is a word about the plane and the way we were forced to land. What happened to our pilot?”
Tipping his head back, he studied the sky. Or what he could see of it between the high canopy of trees. “He died.”
“I know that.” When she caught up with him, she tugged on his sleeve. “Why?”
She honestly didn’t know. She was either too innocent or just not thinking clearly. God, she was sweet. Too sweet to be caught up in this mess, whatever this mess was. Certainly far too sweet to be involved with him, but suddenly, he couldn’t imagine what his world would be like without her in it.
After only a few days of knowing her.
Talk about terrifying.
“Rick?” She was cupping his face now, peering into his gaze worriedly. “What is it? You just went pale as a ghost. It is the pilot, I know it. You are hiding something new from me now?”
Yeah, he was hiding something. Big time.
He was hiding the fact he’d not only allowed his frozen heart to defrost, but let her climb right in and make herself at home, opening him to all sorts of emotions and feelings he wanted nothing to do with. “We need to keep walking.”
“Damn it!”
He stared at her in shock. “What?”
“Yes, I swore! I do that occasionally, when extremely frustrated.” Her fingers grabbed the front of his shirt. “Now, I realize you cannot wait to get rid of me, but—”
“What?”
She blew a stray hair out of her face. “Are you really hard of hearing, or are you just being as irritating as possible on purpose?”
She looked furious. And magnificent. If his head didn’t hurt like a mother, and if they hadn’t been in danger from a million different things, the least of which was dehydration and exposure, Rick would have grabbed her and quite possibly never let go. “I most definitely can wait to get rid of you.”
Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, but he set a finger to it. “And our pilot was poisoned. That’s what the foam on the soda can was. And that bitter vanilla smell. Cyanide, and we were all meant to die on that plane because of it. Now before you use another swear word, understand something. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you. Silly, yes. Macho and egotistical, double yes. But I feel an accelerated possessiveness toward you that seems to force me to act stupid.”
“He was
poisoned,” she said dully, less than underwhelmed by his admission of not wanting to get rid of her.
If that didn’t beat all to hell. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked.
“Yes, someone killed that poor man. Someone tried to kill us.” She looked back over her shoulder. “No wonder you did not want to stay with the plane. What if they came to check their handiwork?” Her eyes were huge when she turned back to him. “Who would want us dead?” She clamped a hand to her mouth. “The same person after Terry! It is the same person who framed her, it has to be! Do you know what this means?” Once again, she gripped his shirt tight. “That all we have to do is catch this person, and we will be able to prove Terry’s innocence!”
He shook his head. “Whoa. Back the tuna truck up. We’re not catching anyone. You—”
“If you say I am not experienced enough to go after this person, or able to take care of myself, I will—”
“Nina.” He grabbed her arms. “I said I feel something for you, and—”
“Well, bully for you,” she snapped, stepping back and crossing her arms. “Welcome to my world.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I hope to God you care for me—we have slept together twice! I care for you, too, you asinine, closemouthed, impossibly stubborn Americano!”
Thoroughly baffled, he narrowed his eyes. “What does being American have to do with anything?”
She threw up her hands. “Someone is trying to kill us and suddenly, now, you want to open up and talk?”
“Okay, yes, someone is trying to kill us. But since I’m not going to let them—”
“See?” she cried, pointing at him. “That is exactly the chauvinistic kind of thing I would expect you to say. I do not want your guilty need to protect me, I want—”
Stepping forward, he hauled her up to her toes so they were eyes to eye. Unfortunately they were also mouth to mouth. “My wanting you safe has nothing to do with guilt,” he said very quietly.
“Really?” Her eyes were smoldering. “What does it have to do with?”
“Damn it, that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” He was confused enough to muddle everything up. When she wiggled against him, he groaned and pulled her snug to his body.
