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Authors: Dee Davis

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BOOK: Dangerous Desires
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Drake.

Her mind was fuzzy, moving in slow motion, but she felt him yank her upward, his other arm grasping her around the waist as he hauled her out of the water and onto the muddy bank. She could feel his hands as he pressed on her chest, the motion forcing the water up and out of her lungs.

She gasped once, and then again, drinking in the air, oxygen filtering through her blood, relief singing through her body.

“Are you okay?” Drake asked as he helped her to sit up.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, still coughing up dribbles of water. “Next time we decide on a river adventure I vote for inner tubes and ice chests full of beer.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, running his hands over her legs and arms, checking for injury. “I’ll bring the beer. But first we’ve got to make it to the coast. Our adventure, as you so aptly called it, sped things along nicely, but best I can tell we’ve still got a ways to go until we reach the Rio Negro. You think you can walk?”

“I can give it a try,” she said, accepting his hand as he pulled her to her feet. Her legs wobbled for a moment, the world going wonky.

“Hang on,” Drake said, his voice calming. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay,” she said, sucking in a breath and finding her balance. “I can make it on my own.”

“You’re sure?” He frowned, pale blue eyes studying her.

“Yes.” She squared her shoulders. No way was she falling apart now. She’d come too damn far. “I’m positive.”

“Good.” He nodded his approval, and she grimaced at the little surge of joy that accompanied his praise. He’d saved her life now—twice—but that didn’t mean there was anything to be gained in getting attached to the man.

“How far have we come?”

“I’m not certain. But we were in the water almost fifteen minutes, and the water’s moving fast this time of year, so it’s possible we’re about a mile or more downstream.”

“I don’t think I’d have made it much farther,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Thanks for pulling me out when you did.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you drown.”

“Although you did let it go to the absolute last possible moment.” The words came out of their own accord, and she was immediately ashamed of them, but Drake just laughed.

“Any sign of di Silva’s men?” she asked, lifting her chin as her gaze met his.

“No. But I expect it’ll take them a little time to figure out what happened. Although they will figure it out. Which is why, if you’re up to it, we really should get a move on.”

“I told you I’m fine.” Her jaw tightened on the words.

“Well, humor me and have a little water,” he said, handing her a canteen.

“Where did you get that?” She eyed the metal canister dubiously.

“Standard issue. I had it in my backpack. Filled it with water from the stream at the ruins when I started after you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” She held up a hand, shaking her head. “I think I’ve already had more river water than I can handle in one day.”

“Believe it or not, you need the hydration.”

“What about contamination? Aren’t we supposed to avoid drinking the water? Parasites or worms or something?”

“There’s always a concern with water in the tropics. But I’ve got purification tablets. So we’re good to go. Now drink.”

She took a sip and then gulped some more, surprised to find that she actually was thirsty.

“So what else have you got in that bag of yours?” she asked, handing him back the canteen.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like, but there’s enough to keep us alive for the next couple of days, if we’re lucky.”

“I’m guessing you’re not talking a four-star hotel with room service.”

“Sadly, no. But I do have chocolate. Although you’ll
have to wait until we’re farther downriver to get your share.”

“The proverbial carrot.” She smiled. “I’ll let you lead the way.” She waved a hand toward the rushing river as he slipped the canteen into his backpack, the movement jostling Madeline’s memory.

“My bag,” she whispered, her heart slamming in her chest. “It’s gone. I can’t go anywhere until I find it.” She started for the bank, eyes searching frantically for the little carryall.

“Easy,” Drake said, reaching out to pull her back. “It’s right here. I snagged it when I pulled you out of the water.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, relief making her giddy as she grabbed the bag from him, pulling open the zipper. Everything inside was just as she’d left it. And remarkably dry, considering. She flipped through the file on Ortiz and di Silva, then pulled out a second plastic bag. Inside were the only things that really mattered in her life. Her passport, an old photograph of Jenny, a tiny gold cross, and the playing card. It was a sad testament of a life, but it was all that she had.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to share with the class?” Drake asked, his eyes alight with speculation.

“No.” She shook her head, dropping the plastic bag back into the carryall. “I wouldn’t.”

Their gazes locked for a moment, his probing. And then he shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “I know it’s important to you, so I’m glad it didn’t get lost.”

There was an invitation in his words, but Madeline wasn’t in the mood to open up to him. Instead she slipped
the bag over her shoulder and started walking. “So do we keep following the stream?”

“Yeah, I still think it’s our best course of action. Once we reach the junction with the Rio Negro I’m hoping we’ll be able to commandeer a boat.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little unlikely?” she asked. “I mean considering this isn’t exactly the hub of civilization. The jungle around here is basically uninhabited.”

“Yeah, but there are still indigenous people around. Their settlements are scattered throughout the region.”

“Great, a dugout canoe will do wonders.”

“Beats walking,” he said, hacking at a thorn bush barring their path. “But I’m hoping for something a bit more modern. There’s an outpost where our river feeds into the Rio Negro—or at least there was one the last time I was in the area.”

“Rescuing another damsel in distress?” she asked, only half kidding.

“No.” He laughed, the sound warming her from the inside out. “I was working a dig. In college. Anyway, the place isn’t much more than a dock and shack, but it’s open to anyone in the area who wants to use it. I think it’s owned by the University of Colombia.”

“And you think there might be a boat.”

“I think it’s possible. But don’t get too excited. As I said, it’s been a long time. For all I know it isn’t even there anymore. In any case, we’re definitely not going to find it today.” He nodded at the canopy above, a small opening in the trees allowing them to see a patch of pink-tinted sky. The day was well past its zenith, the sky already fading as the sun sank behind the horizon.

“Meaning we’ll have to spend the night out here?” The thought was unsettling.

“I know we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, but we’re better off not trying to move at night.”

“Because of the animals,” she said, carefully stepping over the remains of a fallen tree.

“Not just them. Although pumas and bears are nothing to sneeze at. There’s still FARC activity in this area as well.”

“You’re talking about insurgents.” She frowned, her thoughts turning to Andrés. “But haven’t things quieted down in the past few years?”

“They have. But that doesn’t mean the threat is gone. FARC is still somewhere between six and eighteen thousand strong, depending on whose statistics you want to believe.”

“The government or the revolutionaries,” Madeline finished for him.

“Either way it’s more than we want to deal with. Finding two Americans roaming around the jungle would be like found treasure as far as they’re concerned. And I’m sure di Silva’s people would be more than happy to pay for your return.”

“So that they can kill me.” She blew out a breath, fighting a surge of fear. “So basically, we’re stuck in the jungle trying to make our way to an outpost that may or may not exist, in hopes of finding a boat to take us downriver while we work at avoiding the drug cartel from the north and the terrorists to the south. Sounds like great fun.”

“Glad to hear you’re up for the challenge.” His grin lacked any real humor, but she appreciated the effort. It was easy to blame him for their predicament, but the
honest truth was that she’d dealt her own hand, starting with the Queen of Hearts, and now she had to accept the fallout.

All of it.

Including her growing dependence on Drake Flynn.

They walked in silence for the next hour or so, all their energy spent on hacking through the jungle in order to stay with the river. And if that weren’t enough the river itself made their efforts even more difficult. There were fallen trees, thorny undergrowth, moss-slick stones, and always the cold rushing water. A second waterfall proved almost impassable, with a dicey series of fallen boulders bordered with jagged rocks that protruded at awkward angles, their sharp edges threatening to cut right through the soles of their shoes.

After managing to pick their way safely down to the bottom of the falls, Madeline was drenched in her own sweat. The idea of going farther was almost beyond comprehension. But Drake had produced the promised chocolate, giving each of them a square. And after a few minutes’ rest, they’d started out again, following alongside the rushing water.

The trees were thicker here, the hot humid air weighing down on them like a living, breathing thing, smothering in its intensity. The jungle itself had grown quiet, the only sounds the rush of the water and the occasional squawk of a bird high over their heads. The sky, when she could see it, had grown ominously dark, and the smell of rain pervaded her senses.

And then, as suddenly as if God had turned on the taps, the rain came, torrential sheets of it that cut through
the trees, lashing against them as they worked their way through the river of mud created by the downpour.

Despite the heat, Madeline found herself shivering violently as the rain pelted down. Rivulets of water coursed down her cheeks, running into her nose and mouth as she tried to shelter her face and protect herself from the onslaught.

Drake was walking in front of her, using his knife to clear a path through the overgrown vegetation. Clearly unfazed by this latest turn of weather, he kept the pace fast, forcing her to push herself to the limit just to keep up.

Finally, when the shivers turned to shudders and she could hardly walk for shaking, she stopped to give herself a moment’s respite from the relentless fall of rain. What she wouldn’t give for a hot bath and a warm bed, but the only way that was ever going to happen was if she kept moving.

So with a grimace, she straightened up, startled to see that Drake had disappeared into the gloom. The jungle around her had grown noticeably darker, the rain lessening to form a fine mist. She tried for forward motion, but her legs refused the order, buckling instead, sending her headfirst into brush.

“Hang on,” Drake said, appearing by her side, his breath warm against her ear as his arms closed around her. “I’ve got you.”

He pulled her upright, and she leaned against him, her teeth chattering as she tried to control the shuddering. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Can’t seem to stop.”

“You’re going into shock,” he said, his voice still gentle. “I should have seen it coming.” He rubbed her
shoulders, the resulting warmth seeming almost heaven-sent, but the shudders were still winning, so violent now that her muscles were visibly twitching.

“I need to start a fire. Get you warm. Will you be all right if I leave you for a minute?”

She wanted to tighten her hold. To mold herself to him permanently. But she knew that the desire sprang from her exhaustion. So she nodded against his chest. “I’ll… I’ll be okay. Ju… just help me sit down.”

He lowered her carefully onto a grassy tuft of the riverbank. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’ve just got to get some wood. Okay?”

She nodded, her tongue too thick for words, her body still racked with shudders. Wrapping her arms around herself, she closed her eyes and waited, minutes passing slowly, like the molasses her mother used to pour on pancakes. She’d made the best pancakes. They were Jenny’s favorite. Madeline smiled, the image of the two of them at the table, their mother flipping pancakes at the stove—her father passed out in the next room.

It was the only time there was peace. She let herself drift on the encroaching darkness.

“Madeline? Come on, you’ve got to stay with me.”

Drake.

“I’ve got the fire started,” he said. “We’ve just got to get you warm. Everything’s going to be all right.”

She shook her head, denying the words. Nothing was ever going to be right. Her mother was dead. Jenny was dead. She was alone in the jungle.

With Drake.

Her eyes flickered open as he lifted her into his arms, carrying her away from the river. Out of the mist an
outcropping of rock rose behind a stand of mata ratons. In places, the trees literally sprang from the rocks, and the overhanging branches formed an umbrella of sorts, a quiet copse that, for the moment at least, promised refuge. In the center a little fire danced against the green-gray backdrop of foliage.

He carried her over to the fire and set her down on a mat made from palm leaves, kneeling beside her. “We need to get you warm,” he said, “and that means getting rid of those sweats for now. They’re soaked.”

She nodded, and with gentle fingers he peeled them off, then pulled her into his lap, her body cradled against his warmth. She closed her eyes again as his arms tightened around her. It felt so nice to be taken care of.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had just held her.

It had been years.

She nestled closer, her shudders slowing to shivers, his body heat radiating into her skin, seeping down to her bones. He smelled like leather and shaving cream. Which seemed absurdly funny in the middle of the jungle. But then again maybe this was all a dream. Her brain was having a hard time separating fact from fiction.

She could feel his heart beating against her hand, his even breath soothing her in a way nothing else possibly could have. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, and though the sign of weakness angered her, she couldn’t seem to find the energy to lift her hand and brush them away.

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