She shaded her eyes against the glaring shards of sunlight piercing the treetops like razor blades. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the faintest sparkle. But from the distance, there was no way to tell for sure.
"All right, Valos. Have it your way,” she announced softly. “I guess you got what you wanted after all. But you didn't keep your end of the bargain."
Dropping her hand to her side, Rhea started toward Ashley and Jon. She knew her lab partner was probably bursting at the seams with curiosity. But the last thing Rhea wanted was to talk of or even think about the tall, dark-skinned man with mahogany hair and decadent eyes that had turned her whole world upside down—the man who apparently didn't exist.
CHAPTER 12
Rhea's lids fluttered open when the boisterous roar of a gang of red howler monkeys overhead invaded her dreamless sleep. As her vision slowly came into focus, she stared up at the dim canopy of trees and tangled vines through emotionless eyes. It was nearly sunrise.
Normally, she'd have been thrilled to watch the mating dance between the males and females of this animated group of primates as they leapt from branch to branch in a game of catch-me-if-you-can. But not even the beauty of the Amazon Forest or its teeming wildlife could penetrate her funk.
Nearly two weeks had passed since that morning by the Amapayaco River. Two weeks, and no sign of Valos. While the daily searches for the Yagana plant had continued, taking her and the others on excursions miles away from the Huitoto Village, Rhea had merely gone through the motions, steadily slipping further and further into a deep state of depression.
The first few nights, she'd gone to bed with high spirits, expecting Valos to come to her in her dreams, as he'd apparently done before. But when each dawn brought no secret rendezvous, she slowly began to accept the realization that he wasn't coming back. And after fourteen days of disappointment, she was beginning to doubt he'd ever existed.
She avoided the subject with Ashley, especially after she'd told her about the wonderful night in Valos's magical chamber, and Ashley had blown it all off as nothing more than an improbable wet dream. Seemed her friend had completely forgotten about seeing him herself, and had no recollection of the day they'd arrived, or that evening he'd been in the shadows by the fire.
Juanita was always too busy to be bothered with talk, and seemed to avoid her. And since Jon had never seen Valos to begin with, there was no point discussing it with him. When it came down to it, Rhea was the only one holding on to the belief that the Stairway to Heaven and its mysterious Guardian were anything more than figments of her imagination.
Currently, they were on their way to the Heliconia Amazon River Lodge in the Yanamono Reserve to retrieve Dr. Madasgar—who apparently had extensive knowledge of the medicinal plants of this region. For the first time since arriving in the Amazon, they'd all be sleeping in real beds. But as far as Rhea was concerned, it was just another exhausting trek into the unknown, one that wouldn't likely produce any reward, other than the luxuries of running water, sanitation, and real food.
She shielded her head as a few twigs and leaves drifted down from forest ceiling. The howler monkeys were certainly in an uproar this morning, and if she didn't move soon, she'd likely be pummeled by a falling tree limb. Or worse, the unfortunate target for excrement.
That thought was enough to motivate Rhea into action. She quickly unzipped her sack and rolled up into a sitting position. Then she kicked her legs free and got to her feet.
Stretching her hands above her head, she rolled her neck from side to side, trying to work out the kinks that sleeping on a hard ground with no pillow had caused. A quick assessment of the camp confirmed what she already expected—she was the first one up. But it was no matter, she preferred going through her morning ritual of sponge bathing from a bowl of tepid water in solitude. Seemed everything she did of late had become lonely.
Rhea glanced over at Ashley and Jon, huddled together on the far side of the fire pit. One would think they'd known each other for years with how quickly they seemed to have grown attached to one another. And despite her envy at Ashley's ability to draw the opposite sex like moths to a flame, she couldn't help but feel happy for her. In truth, she'd never seen either one of them more content.
Perhaps Valos was right. Ashley and Jon had found what they wanted in each other. Then another disturbing thought sent ripples of despair through her already troubled mind. Had Ashley been in need, would Valos have chosen her instead?
No, stop it, Rhea. Valos doesn't exist. He was nice dream. That's all.
Rhea shook her head, trying to clear her scattering thoughts and return some semblance of order to her quickly disintegrating state of logic. She was a biologist. Educated. Everything in life had a lucid explanation for existence. Beings like Guardians—whatever that really was—didn't make sense.
She pondered her recent change in behavior, in thinking, in rationalizing. When had her current state of disorganized thoughts and ridiculous ideas begun? When had she slipped into accepting this crazy notion that there was a magical stairwell, and a Guardian who promised to make all her dreams come true? When had she ceased knowing what was a reality and what was a delusion?
The moment I stepped off the plane.
It was true. She hadn't been herself since she'd set foot in this place. But what was the reasoning behind it? The food? Drink?
Try as she might, Rhea really couldn't draw any conclusion. She saw Valos only moments after arriving, so what could have triggered such a cogent hallucination? One that had managed to overtake every aspect of her mind during waking and sleep.
This has to be Steve's fault, she concluded.
Apparently, their breakup had been more traumatic for her than she'd thought. His betrayal had pushed her over the edge. And now she was making up imaginary men to fill the gaping void left behind from a lifetime of choosing the wrong guy.
With a sigh of frustration, she started toward the river's edge with towel and soap in hand. With any luck, she'd get her bathing done and be back before the others stirred. She certainly didn't want to be lectured again about wandering off.
* * * *
It was midday, the sun was at its peak in the crystal sky, and they had just traveled fifty miles by boat to reach their destination. Rhea watched as they drew near the Heliconia Lodge with growing anticipation. The first thing she wanted to do was take a shower. Two weeks of caked-on dirt and grime was enough to make anyone crabby.
The Lodge was built with thatches of palm leaves, wood, and other typical jungle material. It offered twenty-one guest quarters, a restaurant, lobby, bar, resting room, and hammock room, all connected by roofed passageways. And, to Rhea's delight, provided a private bathroom with running hot water for each resident.
After a quiet dinner in her room and a long, well-deserved shower, Rhea pulled her wet hair up into a ponytail, then slipped on a pair of khaki shorts, a thin white blouse, and a pair of braided sandals. She gave herself a quick glance in the mirror to assure she was presentable, then headed down to the bar for a much-needed drink.
Ashley and Jon had scarcely checked into their rooms before disappearing, hand in hand, into the jungle on a hunt for the lupuna—which, according to Jon, is an impressive tree known for its large dimensions. But they weren't fooling anyone; Rhea knew what they'd disappeared for. The romantic lure of the rainforest was irresistible, and she couldn't blame them for wanting to find a remote spot somewhere, perhaps a private waterfall, and take full advantage of it. Were Valos here, she'd be—
Rhea stopped herself, refusing to let her imagination take over the little bit of control she'd managed to regain over the course of the day. Evening was drawing near, the sun was beginning to set, and she planned on sitting at the bar until she'd drunk herself into a stupor, then either stumbling back to her room to spend the rest of the night alone, or perhaps taking a walk by the river. She imagined, with no trees blocking her view, the stars would be spectacular.
After tossi
ng her purse—one of the many gifts she'd received that first night at the Huitoto Village—onto the counter, Rhea seated herself on one of the bar stools and waited. Since she wasn't quite sure what to order, it didn't bother her that it took several minutes for the waiter to finish what he was doing before noticing her.
He flashed her an apologetic smile and hurried over. “Excusa, señorita. What would you like?"
"Well, um, I'm not sure,” Rhea began, feeling a little silly. She wished she'd asked Jon for a suggestion before he took off with Ashley, but at the time, the only things on her mind were running water and fresh clothes.
The bartender smiled once again. “You like fruits? Sí?"
Rhea nodded.
"Okay, I'll fix you up,” he declared with a wink and darted away.
She watched as he stopped to take an order from a couple at the end of the bar, then disappeared through a doorway on the left. Rhea chewed the inside of her cheek. Something fruity was good, she hoped.
While she waited for the man to return with her mystery drink, she glanced about the bar. “Must be a slow night,” she mumbled, taking in the handful of people seated at varying tables. Of course, how busy would a place be in the middle of the Amazon?
Her gaze drifted to the co-joining hammock room, which faced the river. Perhaps when her drink arrived, she'd go sit out there and watch the sun set over the water. With the exception of one, all the hammocks were free.
Rhea strained to see who occupied it. But the hammocks hung perpendicular to where she was sitting, so it was impossible to see little more than the top of the person's head. She could just make out the dark color of hair, but couldn't tell if it was a man or woman.
"Señorita?"
The bartender's voice startled her, jolting her back to minding her own business.
"Yes? Oh. Thank you,” Rhea replied hastily, taking in the colorful drink he'd set in front of her.
The chilled, wide-bottomed mug was filled with a thick, peach-colored liquid the consistency of a frozen margarita. A tall wooden skewer lined with various fruit jutted out from the center—cherries, mangos, pineapple, and a few others she couldn't name. And perched on the side, was a vivid, yellow paper umbrella. It was almost too pretty to drink.
As though waiting for her approval, the bartender remained. Rhea grasped the large mug by its handle and lifted it to her lips. Then she took a tentative sip.
At first, she could only taste the sugary flavor of the fruit, and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd brought her a virgin daiquiri. But then the alcohol hit the back of her tongue and—Wow!—was it potent. Just two of these babies and she'd likely be sloshed!
Rhea carefully set her drink back down, then picked up a napkin and dotted the corner of her lips. “That's ... whoa. That's good."
The bartender grinned. “That's aguardiente. Nothing like it."
"I'll say. How much do I owe you?” Rhea grabbed for her purse.
The man held up his hands and backed away shaking his head. “Compliments of the señor."
At first Rhea thought he meant it was on the house. But when he gestured toward the hammock room, she realized that whoever occupied that far hammock had just bought her a drink.
She turned to thank the person, but he or she was gone; the hammock was empty. Then she skimmed the bar, thinking perhaps they'd come in to join her, but no one else had entered. With a shrug of indifference, she turned her attention back to her drink.
Apparently, whoever it was had changed their mind. But Rhea didn't care. She wasn't up for chitchat, and really just wanted to be alone.
She lifted her drink and took a long swig. After swirling the pungent liquid around on her tongue, she let it slip down her throat, savoring the burn as it went down. It was funny how good liquor could be painful to drink, and yet so satisfying.
Is that sadistic?
"Not at all."
Rhea choked on a mouthful of alcohol and dropped her drink as the familiar baritone voice brushed the back of her neck like a feathery breath. The mug landed on the bar with a resounding thud, then toppled over on its side, spilling peach liquid across the tabletop. Grabbing another napkin to cover her mouth as she coughed and sputtered, she whipped around, not too sure if she'd really heard him, or if it was just another figment of her imagination.
"Hello, Rhea. I missed you."
Rhea's eyes grew round with disbelief. This can't be. Surely I'm not drunk yet!
His responding chuckle made her heart lurch in the back of her throat, setting off another round of defensive gasps. Alcohol burned her nose, making her eyes water. Heat raced through her veins like liquid fire. She wasn't sure if it was the sound of his voice, or the liquor setting her aflame.
They stared at each other a long, quiet moment—he, seemingly pleased with the havoc his appearance had caused, and she, nothing less than stunned into silence. Either she was totally wasted on two gulps of whatever the bartender had called it, or Valos was standing before her, as real as anyone else in the room.
Her eyes quickly took in his full form. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but draped over one broad shoulder like a stole. He was dressed in sleek black lounge-pants and a sheer white shirt, unbuttoned down to the navel, yet neatly tucked into his waistband. Her gaze lingered at the expanse of his chest, preoccupied with the smooth bronzed skin, before dropping to the penny-loafers covering his feet.
Finally regaining her composure, Rhea cleared her throat. “What are you doing—"
"Rhea! I see you've met Dr. Madasgar."
Rhea turned to see Jon making his way across the bar with Ashley clinging to his arm like an overgrown swatch of ivy. Rhea didn't know what to say. She watched in open-mouthed shock as Jon approached them, then shook hands with the man as though greeting an old friend.
"Um ... no,” she stuttered, not believing Jon could actually see him this time. “We we're ... oh!” Her drink had spilled over the edge of the bar and was splattering all over the floor and her feet. Rhea jumped to the side when the cold liquid landed on her toes.
"Actually, I startled her, causing her to spill her drink. And I was just getting ready to buy her another."
Rhea snatched her napkin and threw it on the hardwood floor where her drink was making a large sloppy puddle. “Um ... bartender!” she called, hoping to remove herself from the uncomfortable situation by finding something else to do. “I need a towel!"
She started to step around them, but Jon had managed to block her only exit. She was trapped between them and her chair. Helpless, she glanced up at Dr. Madasgar with a phony smile. If she could just play it off long enough to escape to her room...
Rhea extended her hand. “N ... nice to meet you, Dr.—” she started.
"Please, call me Valos."
When his warm hand curled around hers, Rhea felt her knees grow weak. Before she could pull away, he'd turned her palm over, and leaned forward to brush his lips across the center in a sensual kiss. When he let go, she surely would have fallen at his feet had she not leaned back against her chair for support.
Jon, oblivious to the sexual tension crackling through the air around them, began discussing their previous excursions and the plants they'd come across thus far. Rhea vaguely heard something about Valos and her continuing the search on their own since Ashley and he would be returning to the Huitoto Village for some sort of ceremony.
"...so I hope Valos and you will get along all right as partners. We'll be gone for a few weeks at least. In the meantime, you may want to focus your attentions near the Peruvian border. From what I've—"
"Are you all right, Rhea?” Ashley chimed in.
"I ... think I had too much to drink,” Rhea replied quickly, hoping Valos didn't dispute her claim.
His response to Ashley nearly floored her. “Why don't you two enjoy the evening? I'm going to walk Rhea to her room."
When his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her up against his side, Rhea couldn't have ar
gued had she wanted to. She merely glanced up at him and muttered, “All right."
Ashley and Jon said their goodnights, then headed off for the hammock room, leaving Rhea alone with Valos. His arm tightened, preventing any last minute thoughts of escape. Then he turned her toward the exit and started for the roofed passageway leading to the guest rooms.
After several moments of silence, he asked, “Did you miss me?"
"It's been two weeks,” Rhea replied flatly. “When I woke up alone by the river, I assumed it had—"
"Been a dream?"
She stared up at him, expecting him to disappear at any moment.
Valos stopped, then turned her toward him. “I'm sorry it took so long. I was ... delayed. But it's done. The Stairway has been given over to the next Guardian."
"You're ... here for good?"
Valos's mouth curled into a sensual smile. “Forever."
Rhea reached out a tentative hand and curled it along his jaw. The prickle of new growth stuck her palm. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn't know why, but for some reason, the fact he could grow a beard made him seem—
"Real?"
"Yeah,” she breathed out in a heated rush. “But, you're still reading my mind. How—"
Valos took her hand and placed it over his heart. It pounded beneath her palm with a steady drum. Lubb-dub, lubb-dub. Rhea spread her fingers wide, trying to feel as much of him as she could.
"Your essence will always bind us, Rhea. No matter where you are, I'll be with you."
His hands found their way to her hips and he pulled her up against him. Rhea melted into him like butter on a hot frying pan. And when his head dipped forward, she lifted her chin in mute invitation. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
At the first brush of his lips, her eyelids fluttered down. Then his mouth closed over hers in a soul-reaching kiss that left her breathless. Her hands knotted in the material at the parted V of his shirt, refusing to let go lest he vanish and she wake up alone once again.
Stairway To Heaven Page 8
