Midnight Rainbow (15 page)

           
 
Twice that afternoon they heard a helicopter,
and both times he pulled her into the thickest cover, waiting until the sound
had completely faded away before emerging. The grim line of his mouth told her
that he didn't consider it just a coincidence. They were being hunted, and only
the dense cover of the forest kept them from being caught. Jane's nerves
twisted at the thought of leaving that cover; She wasn't afraid for just
herself now, but for Grant, too. He put himself in jeopardy just by being with
her.
Turego
wanted her alive, but Grant was of no use
to him at all.

           
 
If it came to a choice between Grant's life
and giving
Turego
what he wanted, Jane knew that she
would give in. She'd have to take her chances with
Turego
,
though it would be impossible now to catch him off guard the way she had the
first time. He knew now that she wasn't a rich man's flirtatious, charming plaything.
She'd made a fool of him, and he wouldn't forget.

           
 
Grant stepped over a large fallen tree and
turned back to catch her around the waist and lift her over it with that
effortless strength of his. Pausing, he pushed her tangled hair back from her
face, his touch surprisingly gentle. She knew how lethal those hands could be.
"You're too quiet," he muttered. "It makes me think you're up to
something, and that makes me nervous."

           
 
"I was just thinking," she defended
herself.

           
 
"That's what I was afraid of."

           
 
"If
Turego
catches us…"

           
 
"He won't," Grant said flatly.
Staring down at her, he saw more now than just an appealing,
sloe-eyed woman.
He knew her now, knew her courage and strength, her
secret fears and her sunny nature. He also knew her temper, which could flare
or fade in an instant.
Sabin's
advice had been to
kill her quickly rather than let
Turego
get his hands
on her; Grant had seen enough death to accept that as a realistic option at the
time. But that was before he had known her, tasted her and felt the silky
texture of her skin, watched her go wild beneath him. Things had changed now.
He had changed—in ways that he neither welcomed nor trusted, but had to
acknowledge. Jane had become important to him. He couldn't allow that, but for
the time being he had to accept it. Until she was safe, she could be his, but
no longer. There wasn't any room in his life for permanency, for roots, because
he still wasn't certain that he'd ever live in the sunshine again. Like
Sabin
, he'd been in the shadows too long. There were still
dark spots on his soul that were revealed in the lack of emotion in his eyes.
There was still the terrible, calm acceptance of things that were too terrible
to be accepted.

           
 
If things had gone as originally planned, they
would have gotten on that helicopter and she would be safely home by now. He
would never have really known her; he would have delivered her to her father
and walked away. But instead, they had been forced to spend days with only each
other for company. They had slept side by side, eaten together, shared moments
of danger and of humor. Perhaps the laughter was the more intimate, to him;
he'd known danger many times with many people, but humor was rare in his life.
She had made him laugh, and in doing so had captured a part of him. Damn her
for being the woman she was, for being lively and good-natured and desirable,
when he'd expected a spoiled, sulky bitch. Damn her for making men want her,
for making
him
want her. For the
first time in his life he felt a savage jealousy swelling in his heart. He knew
that he would have to leave her, but until then he wanted her to be his and
only his. Remembering the feel of her body under his, he knew that he would
have to have her again. His golden eyes narrowed at the feeling of intense
possessiveness that gripped him. An expression of controlled violence crossed
his face, an expression that the people who knew him had learned to avoid
provoking. Grant Sullivan was dangerous enough in the normal way of things;
angered, he was deadly. She was his now, and her life was being threatened. He'd
lost too much already; his youth, his laughter, his trust in others, even part
of his own humanity. He couldn't afford to lose anything else. He was a
desperate man trying to recapture his soul. He needed to find again even a
small part of the boy from Georgia who had walked barefoot in the warm dirt of
plowed fields,
who
had learned survival in the
mysterious depths of the great swamp. What Vietnam had begun, the years of
working in intelligence and operations had almost completed, coming close to
destroying him as a man.

           
 
Jane and her screwball brand of gallantry were
the source of the only warmth he'd felt in years. He reached out and caught her
by the nape of her neck, his strong fingers halting her. Surprised, she turned
an inquiring glance at him, and the small smile that had begun forming on her
lips faded at the fierce expression he couldn't hide.

           
 
"Grant? Is something wrong?"

           
 
Without thinking, he used the grip he had on
her neck to pull her to him, and kissed her full lips, still faintly swollen
from the lovemaking they'd shared in the cave. He took his time about it,
kissing her with slow, deep movements of his tongue. With a small sound of
pleasure she wound her arms around his neck and lifted herself on tiptoe to
press more fully against him. He felt the soft juncture of her thighs and
ground himself against her, his body jolting with desire at the way she
automatically adjusted herself to his hardness.

           
 
She was his, as she'd never belonged to any
other man.

           
 
Her safety hinged on how swiftly he could get
her out of the country, for he sensed
Turego
closing
in on them. That man would never give up, not while the microfilm was still
missing. There was no way in hell, Grant vowed, that he would allow
Turego
ever to touch Jane again. Lifting his mouth from
hers, he muttered in a harsh tone, "You're mine now. I'll take care of
you." Jane rested her head against his chest. "I know," she
whispered.

           
 
1 hat night changed forever the way Jane
thought of the darkness. The fear of being alone in the dark would probably
always remain with her, but when Grant reached out for her, it stopped being an
enemy to be held at bay. It became instead a warm blanket of safety that
wrapped around them, isolating them from the world. She felt his hands on her
and forgot about the night. He kissed her until she was clinging to him,
begging him wordlessly for release from the need he'd created in her. Then he
gently stripped her and himself,
then
rolled to his
back, lifting her astride him. "I hurt you this morning," he said,
his voice low and rough. "You control it this time; take only as much as
you're comfortable with."

           
 
Comfort didn't matter; making love with him
was a primitive glory, and she couldn't place any limits on it. She lost
control, moving wildly on him, and her uninhibited delight snapped the thin
thread of control he was trying to maintain. He made a rough sound deep in his
throat and clasped her to him, rolling once again until she was beneath him.
The wildly soaring pleasure they gave each other wiped her mind clear of
everything but him and the love that swelled inside of her. There was no
darkness. With his passion, with the driving need of his body, he took her out
of the darkness. When she fell asleep in his arms, it was without once having
thought of the impenetrable darkness that surrounded them." The next
morning, as always, she awoke slowly, moving and murmuring to
herself
, snuggling against the wonderfully warm, hard body
beneath her, knowing even in her sleep that it was Grant's. His hands moved
down her back to cup and knead her buttocks, awakening her fully. Then he
shifted gently onto his side, holding her in his arms and depositing her on her
back. Her eyes fluttered open, but it was still dark, so she closed them again
and turned to press her face against his neck.

           
 
"It's almost dawn, honey," he said
against her hair, but he couldn't force himself to stop touching her, to sit up
and put on his clothing. His hands slipped over her bare, silky skin,
discovering anew all the places he'd touched and kissed during the night. Her
response still overwhelmed him. She was so open and generous, wanting him and
offering herself with a simplicity that took his breath away. She groaned, and
he eased her into a sitting position,
then
reached out
to unzip the flap of the tent and let in a faint glimmer of light. "Are
you awake?"

           
 
"No," she grumbled, leaning against
him and yawning.

           
 
"We have to go."

           
 
"I know." Muttering something under
her breath, she found what she presumed to be her shirt and began trying to
untangle it. There was too much cloth, so she stopped in frustration and handed
it to him. "I think this is yours. It's too big to be mine."

           
 
He took the shirt, and Jane scrambled around
until she found her own under the blanket they'd been lying on. "Can't you
steal a truck or something?" she asked, not wanting even to think about
another day of walking.

           
 
He didn't laugh, but she could almost feel the
way the corners of his lips twitched. "That's against the law, you
know."

           
 
"Stop laughing at me! You've had a lot of
specialized training, haven't you? Don't you know how to hot-wire an
ignition?"

           
 
He sighed. "I guess I can hot-wire
anything we'd be likely to find, but stealing a vehicle would be like
advertising our position to
Turego
."

           
 
"How far can we be from Limon? Surely we
could get there before
Turego
would be able to search
every village between here and there?"

           
 
"It'd be too risky, honey. Our safest bet
is still to cut across to the east coast swamps, then work our way down the
coast. We can't be tracked in the swamp." He paused. "I'll have to go
into the village for food but you're going to stay hidden in the trees."

           
 
Jane drew back. "Like hell."

           
 
"Damn it, don't you realize that it's too
dangerous for you to show your face?"

           
 
"What about
your
face? At least I have dark hair and eyes like everyone else.
Don't forget, that soldier saw you, and your pilot friend no doubt told them
all about you, so they know we're together. That long blond mane of yours is
pretty unusual around here."

           
 
He ran his hand through his shaggy hair,
faintly surprised at how long it was. "It can't be helped." She
folded her arms stubbornly. "You're not going anywhere without me."
Silence lay between them for a moment. She was beginning to think she'd won a
surprisingly easy victory when he spoke, and the even, almost mild tone of his
voice made chills go up her spine, because it was the most implacable voice
she'd ever heard. "You'll do what I say, or I'll tie and gag you and leave
you here in the tent."

           
 
Now it was her turn to fall silent. The
intimacy that had been forged between them had made her forget that he was a
warrior first, and her lover second. Despite the gentle passion with which he
made love to her, he was still the same man who had knocked her out and thrown
her over his shoulder, carrying her away into the jungle. She hadn't held a
grudge against him for that, after the reception she'd given him, but this was
something else entirely. She felt as if he were forcibly reminding her of the
original basis of their relationship, making her acknowledge that their
physical intimacy had not made her an equal in his eyes. It was as if he'd used
her body, since she had so willingly offered it, but saw no reason to let that
give her any influence over him.

           
 
Jane turned away from him, fumbling with her
shirt and finally getting it straight. She wouldn't let him see any hint of
hurt in her eyes; she'd known that the love she felt was completely one-sided.
His hand shot out and pulled the shirt away from her. Startled, she looked at
him. "I have to get dressed. You said we need to—"

           
 
"I know what I said," he growled,
easing her down onto the blanket. The lure of her soft body, the knowledge that
he'd hurt her and her characteristic chin-up attempt to keep him from seeing
it, all made it impossible for him to remember the importance of moving on. The
core of ice deep inside his chest kept him from whispering to her how much she
meant to him. The remoteness bred into him by years of living on the edge of
death hadn't yet been overcome; perhaps it never would be. It was still vital
to him to keep some small significant part of himself sealed away, aloof and
cold. Still, he couldn't let her draw away from him with that carefully blank
expression on her face. She was his, and it was time she came to terms with the
fact.

           
 
Putting his hands on her thighs, he spread
them apart and mounted her. Jane caught her breath, her hands going up to grab
at his back. He slowly pushed into her, filling her with a powerful movement
that had her body arching on the blanket.

           
 
He went deep inside her, holding her tightly
to him. Her inner tightness made him almost groan aloud as wild shivers of
pleasure ran up his spine. Shoving his hand into her hair, he turned her head
until her mouth was under his,
then
kissed her with a
violence that only hinted at the inferno inside him. She responded to him
immediately. Her mouth molded to his and her body rose to meet his thrusts in
increasingly ecstatic undulations. He wanted to immerse himself in her, go
deeper and deeper until they were bonded together, their flesh fused. He held
her beneath him, their bodies locked together in total intimacy. He reveled in
the waves of intensifying pleasure that made them clutch at each other,
straining together in an effort to reach the peak of their passion. When he was
inside her, he no longer felt the need to isolate himself. She was taking a
part of him that he hadn't meant to offer, but he couldn't stop it. It was as
if he'd gotten on a roller coaster and there was no way to get off until it
reached the end of the line. He'd just have to go along for the ride, and he
meant to wring every moment of pleasure he could from the short time that he
had her all to himself.

           
 
Jane clung to his shoulders, driven out of her
senses by the pounding of his body. He seemed to have lost all control; he was
wild, almost violent, his flesh so heated that his skin burned her palms. She
was caught up in the depth of his passion, writhing against him and begging for
more. Then, abruptly, her pleasure crested, and he ground his mouth against
hers to catch her mindless cries. Her hot flare of ecstasy caught him in its
explosion, and he began shuddering as the final shock waves jolted through his
body. Now it was she who held him, and when it was over he collapsed on her,
his eyes closed and his chest heaving, his body glistening with sweat.

           
 
Her fingers gently touched the shaggy, dark
gold threads of his hair, pushing them away from his forehead. She didn't know
what had triggered his sudden, violent possession, but it didn't matter. What
mattered was that, despite everything, he needed her in a basic way that he
didn't welcome, but couldn't deny. That wasn't what she wanted, but it was a
start. Slowly she trailed her hand down his back, feeling the powerful muscles
that lay under his supple bronzed skin. The muscles twitched then relaxed under
her touch, and he grew heavier as the tension left him.

           
 
"Now we
really
have to go," he murmured against her breast.

           
 
"
Ummm
."
She didn't want to stir; her limbs were heavy, totally relaxed. She could
happily have lain there for the rest of the day, dozing with him and waking to
make love again. She knew that the peace wouldn't last; in a moment he stirred
and eased their bodies apart.

           
 
They dressed in silence, except for the
rustling of their clothing, until she began lacing her boots on her feet. He
reached out and tilted her chin then, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip.
"Promise me," he demanded, making her look at him. "Tell me that
you're going to do what I say, without an argument. Don't make me tie you up."

           
 
Was he asking for obedience, or trust? Jane
hesitated,
then
went with her instincts. "All
right," she whispered. "I promise."

           
 
His pupils dilated, and his thumb probed at
the corner of her lips. "I'll take care of you," he said, and it was
more than a promise.

           
 
They took down the tent; then Jane got out the
meager supply of remaining food. She emptied the last of the Perrier into his
canteen, disposed of the bottles, and broke in two the granola bar that she'd
been saving. That and a small can of grapefruit
was
their breakfast, and the last of their food. The morning was almost gone, and
the heat and humidity had risen to almost unbearable levels, when Grant stopped
and looked around. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. "We're almost even
with the village. Stay
here,
and I'll be back in an
hour or so."

           
 
"How long is 'or so'?" she asked
politely, but the sound of her teeth snapping together made him grin.

           
 
"Until I get
back."
He took the pistol out of its holster and extended it to
her. "I take it you know how to use this, too?"

           
 
Jane took the weapon from his hand, a grim
expression on her mouth. "Yes. After I was kidnapped, Dad insisted that I
learn how to protect myself. That included a course in firearms, as well as
self-defense classes." Her slim hand handled the gun with respect, and
reluctant expertise. "I've never seen one quite like this. What is
it?"

           
 
"A
Bren
10
millimeter," he grunted.

           
 
Her eyebrows lifted. "Isn't it still
considered experimental?" He shrugged.
"By some
people.
I've used it for a while; it does what I want." He watched
her for a moment,
then
a frown drew his brows
together. "Could you use it, if you had to?"