Curse of the Condor (13 page)

Chapter 16

Jetta found herself loving the Yagua and their customs. They were kind to her, so unlike the idea she'd had in her head when she'd first thought of a native tribe. She handed a baby back to one of the women, and smiled when the native acknowledged her. She watched the topless women walk around the camp, some nursing their babies. Naked children followed them around like puppies. The men never stared at the women's breasts like she knew the men back home would. It was natural to them. No lust involved. These people were open and honest, and certainly didn't have anything to hide.

She wished she could break down her inhibitions long enough to walk around like them. But she'd never even been able to visit a nudist beach, so how would she dare do something like take off her top with so many men present? Especially Conrado. Sure, he'd seen her nakedness already, but since that day she felt embarrassed to think what they had done.

She was ashamed at the way she basically threw herself at Conrado, and also at the rejection she felt when he pushed her away.

Night was closing in, and the villagers gathered around for the feast. Conrado walked up behind her, gently placing his hand on the small of her back.

"Hungry?" he asked her.

She looked at the huge tapir roasting on a spit above the open fire. Its eye sockets were gaping holes, and its legs were out stiff and crispy.

"I think I'll pass," she said, feeling the roll of her stomach.

"You might like it," he told her. "After all, look how you took a liking to slugs."

"I don't think so."

Just then the chief and his wife walked up to her and started to talk very quickly in their tribal language.

"What are they saying?" she asked, standing stationary as the chief's wife grabbed her arm and tried to pull her with them.

"They want you to be the guest of honor at the feast. You are to sit at their side."

"Oh no, really," she told them though she knew they didn't understand. "I'm not eating tonight."

"They'll be offended if you don't eat with them," Conrado warned her. "After all, you are the guest of honor. It wouldn't be good to offend them."

"Why not?" she asked, turning back to talk as they led her away. "What happens if I offend them?"

"Well," he answered. "Let's just say it would be better to eat tapir rather than turn down an offer of eating with the chief."

* * *

The meal had gone smoothly, and Conrado was happy to see that Jetta had not only accepted the chief's offer to sit at his side, but she'd also tried the tapir. Her nibbles turned into bites, and bites led to her devouring the entire piece of roasted meat he'd placed in front of her.

Conrado sat on the ground,
watching Jetta use a form of charades to mingle effortlessly with the Yagua. She seemed as if she belonged here. She'd played games of hide and seek with the children, learned to bead necklaces with porcupine quills and fish bones, and even cooked with the women. And of course, she’d admiringly watched the men as they practiced their blowguns by knocking birds from the skies.

The chief had even shown her how they heated a poison-arrow frog above the fire until its poisons ran out, and they dipped their darts into the liquid. She hadn't liked that part. He'd seen it in her face. Conrado didn't like it either. He didn't like the fact she was so interested in blowguns and poison darts.

A native woman handed him a wooden bowl filled with
chicha,
manioc beer. He thanked her and brought the bowl to his mouth, sipping the liquid and liking the way it made him feel. Jetta had tried it also. In a way, he wondered if it was the reason she was so giddy. If only she knew the women used their own spittle in the brew.

"What happens now?" asked Jetta, walking over to Conrado, her hips swaying gently. Conrado heard the swish of the grass skirt on her bare legs.

"The Yagua are going to dance," he told her.

"Dance?" she asked enthusiastically. "Oh, this I'd like to see."

She sat down beside him, her bare shoulder brushing against him. Just her essence so close to him was driving him mad. He tried to stop himself, but couldn't. Before he knew it, he had his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled. Then leaned her head against his chest.

"This is nice," she said.

"I've seen it hundreds of times," he answered. "The dance doesn't excite me."

"I'm not talking about the dance. I'm talking about us. This is nice."

"Ummmph," he mumbled, knowing he was enjoying their closeness as much as she was, and it irked him. He didn't deserve enjoyment. And definitely not from Ryder's sister. What was he doing? He took his arm away and put it on his lap. She turned her head slightly to look at him, and he felt her body tense against him.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

He picked up the bowl of beer at his side and raised it to his mouth. "Nothing. I just wanted some more to drink. Care for some?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. Then her eyes went back to the Yagua natives as they danced around the high burning fire. One of the tribal women wandered over to them, holding out her hands for Jetta to join them.

"Oh, I don't know . . ." she looked to Conrado for support.

"Go ahead," he answered. "It's rather fun once you learn the rhythm."

"All right, I will." She got to her feet, and the Yagua woman smiled at her.

"Why don't you join too?"  Jetta asked him.

Conrado put the bowl down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He wanted to join her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and pull her closely to his body. He wanted to brush back her hair and kiss her atop the head, tasting every bit of her. Then he wanted to sink deep into her, inch by glorious inch, until they became one.

"No. You go ahead. I'll just watch."

"But what do I do?" she asked. "I don't know the dance."

"When in the jungle, do as the natives do," he told her with a wink. "You'll catch on fast, I'm sure."

"Oh. All right." She disappeared to the other side of the fire with the Yagua woman holding her hand.

"You really like her, don't you?" Eloy squatted down beside him.

"Who? Tabora?" he asked, referring to the older woman who'd prodded Jetta to dance. "Yeah, she's like a mother to me."

"Not her," Eloy said. "You know I'm talking about Jetta."

His eyes settled on her, and he couldn’t help but stare. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d fallen for her badly, though he hadn’t meant to.

Conrado just nodded slightly, listening to her delicate laughter as she danced her way around the fire. Beaded necklaces swished back and forth in the firelight, a feathered headband crowned her golden hair. She was truly the princess among the tribe.

"You going to tell her about Ryder?" Eloy’s comment ripped him from his contentment.

"I have to,” he said. “But not tonight.” He didn’t want to do anything to ruin her happiness and the fun she was having. “First thing tomorrow.”

He turned back to Eloy, but the tribesman was no longer paying attention. Conrado followed his gaze and almost choked. There was Jetta, smiling and dancing around the fire. Topless!

Chapter 17

Conrado's mouth fell open and he dropped the bowl of
chicha
to the ground. Jetta's breasts were visible for anyone to see. Two round white mounds accented by the cherries of red in the center. And atop the one breast she proudly boasted her tattooed rose.

"Really nice," said Eloy letting out a small whistle.

Conrado was atop him immediately, pushing the man's arms behind his back and smearing his face into the dirt.

"I don't ever want to hear you refer to Jetta's breasts again," threatened Conrado.

"Breasts?" asked Eloy, half laughing from his place in the dirt. "I've seen more of those than I care to see. I didn't even notice hers. I was talking about that nice rose tattoo she's wearing."

"Like hell you were,” he said, releasing him, then rushed to Jetta’s side.

"Jetta!"

She turned around laughing, then stopped when she saw the scowl on his face.

"Conrado." She looked down slightly and blushed. "Care to dance?"

"Dance?" he asked. "No. I don't want to dance." He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her away from the dancers and the fire. His groin tightened as he noticed the way her breasts bobbed as she walked over the hard earth. He pulled her to the side, out of the celebration, and away from roaming eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Dancing."

"You know what I mean. Why did you take off your top?"

She crossed her arms over her chest before she answered. "You told me to act like the natives while in the jungle."

"I didn't think you'd take it to this extreme."

"You were the one who was insinuating I should have traded my top to the natives."

"Only because I knew you'd never do it."

"Well, the Yagua women walk around topless. What's the difference?"

"The difference is that they've always done it. You are supposed to be covered up. You're a school teacher for heaven's sake, not a native."

"What's really bothering you, Conrado? Every woman here has been topless since we've gotten here, and you didn't seem to have a problem with it. Now that I've stripped off my shirt, you're furious. Maybe you should go tell the Yagua to clothe themselves."

"That's not it," he said. "It's just . . . "

"Just what?" she challenged him by putting her hands on her hips, giving him a wonderful view.

He bit his lip and looked away. It was so hard to concentrate like this. "I just don't want every man here looking at you . . . at your . . . "

"Ah,” she said with a smile. “You’re jealous!"

"Dammit, Jetta. When you walk around like that, you put ideas in my head. Ideas I have no right to be thinking. Don't you know what you're doing to me?"

"No, I don't," she said. “But maybe you can show me. After all, you had your chance the day you painted this rose on me, but you backed away. Why is that, Conrado? Do I scare you?"

She scared him in ways even he didn’t understand. But he could ignore their passion for each other no longer.

"Well, sweetie. I may have been a gentleman once, but I’m feeling more the native tonight."

He pulled her into his arms.

Jetta felt the air whoosh out of her lungs as Conrado pulled her close in a punishing kiss. A tinge of fear mixed with excitement pulsed through her, and she suddenly wondered if she’d been too bold by taking off her top. As he ran his hand over her back, she could feel the hairs of his chest against her skin, and also his hardness pressed against her belly.

Maybe she shouldn't have tempted him like this. Maybe she had no right to walk around topless and just should have stayed clothed. But she was living in the moment, she told herself. She truly felt as if she were one with the Yagua tribe, and when she started dancing, she felt as if her tank top was the only thing keeping her apart.

She’d removed the top and her necklace from Ryder and placed them in her purse. One of the village children had been nice enough to put it in a storage hut for safe keeping.

She didn't fight him, nor did she want to. He swept her off her feet, holding her safely in his strong arms. She let out a little startled yelp of joy.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as Conrado entered into a small storage hut. "Where are you taking me?"

"I'm doing something I should have done that day I painted the rose," he said, flipping the flimsy door closed with his foot. Darkness surrounded them in the enclosure as he put her on her feet. "No one will bother us here."

She heard his zipper go down, and then the swish of denim as he kicked his shorts from his body.

"I can't see a thing in here," she told Conrado, noticing the way her voice quivered.

"With the flick of his lighter, a flame lit up the room. She saw him digging around the storage hut, finally finding a small battery operated camping lantern.

“Thank God for tourists,” he said, and lit that instead. "Now, come here Jetta."

He had that hungry look back in his eyes, and this time there was no doubt in her mind he’d satisfy it before the night was through. He held out his hand to her. With a deep breath, she followed him to the back of the hut. He found a soft blanket and laid her upon it.

She slipped down to the ground willingly, all the while locked in the gaze of his eyes. Passion burned within them both, and all the doubt she’d seen earlier was gone.

She’d told him she wanted to make love with him, and though the intensity of his stare unnerved her, she wouldn’t back out now. Her heart thumped rapidly against her ribs as he slipped his hands around her waist, first removing her grass skirt and then unsnapping the top of her shorts. He paused a moment, and Jetta feared he’d turn away like before. She caught his hand in hers and guided him as she undid the zipper. In one motion her shorts were gone, and he was leaning over her.

“You are beautiful, Jetta,” he whispered, causing a shiver to course through her body. His voice was rich and sultry. His body so masculine and naked above her. “I don’t deserve  you.”

She put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, the whisper of skin against skin turning hot between them. She reached up and brushed her lips against his. He held his body above her by his elbows as he settled his legs around her. His hand slid gently down her shoulder, but when he’d reached for her breast, his hand tangled in the beaded necklaces still around her neck. His fist closed around them and in one yank he broke them away, beads scattering everywhere in the process. This should have disturbed her, but instead it excited her. Her Tarzan was taking her in his own native way. Her headband followed, and when it did, he ran his fingers through her hair, holding her face close to his.

“Tell me to stop, Jetta. Tell me and I will.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she answered in a breathy voice. “I want this more than you’ll ever know.”

“You know nothing about me, Jetta. You don’t want to make love with a man like me.”

“If we don’t do this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“No,” he said. “You’ll regret it if we do.”

She didn’t want to argue with him. She wanted to make love. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the corded sinew beneath his golden skin. Her hands roamed lower until she found him hot, hard, and ready for her. Her own passion flowed freely as he explored her body in much the same way.

Then she opened for him and he lowered himself to her. He filled her completely, and then even more. His body rocked above her, and she matched his ancient rhythm. Just like a dance, she moved her hips, arching her back off the ground. They’d met their unbridled passion together, and when completeness encompassed her, she let loose her inhibitions with screams of rapture.

Chatter found his way inside the hut at that moment, imitating her screams with some of his own. Conrado lowered himself beside her and they collapsed in sweet surrender against each other, watching the monkey hopping around. They both laughed, and she knew she’d found her new home. This is where she belonged. In the jungle. With Conrado.

"Oh, Tarzan," she whispered in his ear. "I think I want to be your Jane."