Winter Bride (9780345546197) (13 page)

The flippant words sounded vaguely familiar and she suddenly remembered where she had heard them. “That’s what Ronnie said at the hotel.”

“Ronnie says a lot. Some of it even makes sense.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I think we’ll have to find a way to keep her off our heels. I wouldn’t put it past her to insist on filming the entire rescue from inside the
castillo
.”

“And how do you intend to do that?”

He snapped his fingers. “Perez. I’ll ask Ramon to take her to the rebel base in the hills after he drops us off at the shack. Then Perez’s pilot can bring her along for the helicopter pickup. Filming the rebels in action should be more of a draw for her than spinning her wheels reconnoitering the
castillo
.” He straightened away from the wall. “And speaking of Ronnie, I believe I’ll go and help her. I’d prefer not to start this particular endeavor with a bellyache.”

She watched helplessly as he crossed the room toward the kitchen. “But I don’t
need
you, Jed. My mother was a resistance fighter from the time she was fourteen. Do you think she’d let me grow up without learning how to survive and protect myself?”

He turned to face her. “A little help from your friend can’t hurt.”

“Friend?” she whispered.

A sudden smile lit his features with rare beauty. “Friend. We can address the more incendiary aspects
of our relationship later, but I think you could use a friend now.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. “I’ve never had a friend except Steven.”

His smile faded. “Lord, what are you trying to do to me?” He stood there looking at her for an Instant before abruptly turning on his heel and entering the kitchen.

Ysabel vaguely heard Ronnie say something, but she couldn’t comprehend the meaning of the words. Everything was a wild jumble of sound and sensation as she stood there looking after Jed. Everything but the one crystal clear nugget of knowledge that had struck her like a lightning bolt.

Dear heavens, how could she have been so blind? She should have realized what was happening to her. There had certainly been enough signs.

She should have guessed she loved Jed Corbin.

Ronnie lifted her gaze from the document she’d been reading on the countertop in front of her. “You’re really giving Jed your home?”

“
His
home. It was never mine. I’ve never really had a home. Will you witness my signature please?”

Ronnie hesitated and then accepted the pen Ysabel was holding out to her, and scrawled her name on the line Ysabel had indicated. “I’ve never had a home either,” she said wistfully. “I’ve never even had a country. I’ve always wanted—” She broke off and squared her shoulders. “Do you want me to sign anything else?”

“No, I just wanted to be sure it was done legally.” Ronnie’s last words had piqued her curiosity. “I thought you told me you were American.”

“I am but there are problems.…” Ronnie turned and moved toward the archway of the kitchen.

It was clear Ronnie would not welcome any other questions on that subject. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the cruiser to get our sleeping bags. If we’re going to spend the night here, I prefer not to bruise my rump on that floor.”

“Should I go with you? Will you need help?”

Ronnie shook her head. “Why? I’m strong enough to carry three down-filled sleeping bags, for goodness sake. See you.” She was gone before Ysabel could reply.

Yes, Ronnie was strong, Ysabel thought, but the hint of vulnerability Ysabel had previously noticed was becoming more and more clear the longer she knew her.

She carefully took the contract and placed it in Ronnie’s knapsack, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her. Now she could spend these last days with Jed with no shadow of Winter Island hovering over her.

“You’d better give that place a good debugging.” Ronnie peered out the window of the car at the small thatch-roofed shack across the clearing. “You don’t want any tarantulas in your sleeping bags.”

“What a comforting thought.” Jed set the two
sleeping bags on the ground before helping Ysabel out of the car.

“You’re sure you don’t need me?” Ronnie asked. “I don’t really
have
to go to Perez’s base.”

“And then we’d have you mooning around and playing the martyr. I believe we can survive without you until tomorrow.”

“If you’re lucky.” Ronnie smiled impudently. “Come on, Ramon, let’s get going. I have work to do.”

“Presently.” Ramon turned to Jed and Ysabel. “I’ll be back here at seven-fifteen tomorrow morning to pick you up and take you to the
castillo
.”

Surprised, Ysabel said, “You don’t have to do that. It’s only five miles and I have a map.”

“I’ll decide what I have to do,” Ramon said testily. “I have no intention of helping you with the escape, but I’ll drop you off a mile from the
castillo
. You’ve caused me enough trouble and I don’t want my efforts wasted if you’re stupid enough to get yourself captured.” He put the car in gear and a moment later the ancient Ford was bouncing over the rutted road.

Jed picked up the two sleeping bags. “I’ll store our gear and then we’ll hike over to the
castillo
and check it out.” He glanced at the shack. “Stay here. This place looks as if it hasn’t been used in years, and Ronnie may be right about the tarantulas.”

“They’re usually no problem. I’ve dealt with tarantulas before.”

“I’m sure you have.” He added soberly, “I imagine you’ve dealt with a hell of a lot of creepy crawlies in
your short life. But do me a favor and let me handle these particular pests.”

Happiness flooded through her as she watched him walk toward the shack. She couldn’t remember when she had ever had this precious sense of being treasured, guarded. She couldn’t allow it to continue, but surely it would do no harm to let it go on for a little while.

“What, no arguments?” He glanced quickly over his shoulder and a smile lit his mobile features.

Passion, intelligence, and curiosity.

A bold, hard-edged Lancelot.

Sweet Mary, she loved him.

“No arguments.”

“No guards on the ramparts,” Ysabel whispered, her gaze on the twin towers of the
castillo
a few hundred yards away. “And we’ve seen only one guard at the gate just as Ridelez wrote me.”

Jed nodded as he let the branches of the bush screening them swing back in place. “It’s not a sure thing, but it all seems to check out.”

She turned away from the
castillo
and started back down the path through the jungle. “Then it’s a go for tomorrow.”

“Yes.” His brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak until they were halfway back to the shack. “I’ve been thinking. There’s no need for both of us to go after your brother.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” she said quickly.

“So I’ll go by myself.”

“You? No way,” she said flatly.

“I’m more experienced and I—”

“I said no, Jed. He’s
my
brother and
my
problem.”

His lips tightened. “We’ll see.”

Good God, he was strong willed.

As strong willed as Arnold had been.

The thought came out of nowhere, sending a bolt of panic through her. She had been able to survive Arnold’s domination because he had been unable to touch her emotions, but her love for Jed gave him tremendous power over her.

“Don’t look like that,” Jed said roughly, his gaze on her face. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get him out.”

They would get Steven out of his prison, but she might be edging closer to another one for herself. But why was she worrying? she thought impatiently. Jed did not love her and had made no mention of any feelings but desire and friendship. He had no place in his life for a permanent relationship. A bewildering mixture of pain and relief washed over her.

No, she wouldn’t think of the future without Jed. She would enjoy these precious moments while she had them and try to make them complete in every way.

Jed came out of the hut and threw a pile of debris on the ground beside the door. His sweat-darkened pearl-gray shirt clung to his torso, his charcoal-gray cord pants were smudged with the same dust that darkened his silver hair to pewter. He was a study in gray and reminded Ysabel of a gleaming blade fashioned of the toughest steel. She felt a melting tenderness as she looked at him.

He straightened as he caught sight of her. “Where have you been?”

Her lashes lowered to veil her eyes as she strolled toward him. “No tarantulas?”

“Nary a one. I was almost disappointed. I was ready to do battle.” His gaze focused on the shining braid nestled against her breast. “Why is your hair damp?”

“You refused to let me help so while you were braving nonexistent tarantulas, I was doing some
reconnollering. There’s a pond about a half mile from here.”

“So you went for a swim?” He frowned. “You shouldn’t have gone alone. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“It was perfectly safe. The pond’s surrounded by shrubbery and I grew up in the jungle, remember?” She turned and started down the path. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To the pond. You look as hot as I felt before my swim.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Coming?”

She tried to keep her expression bland, but he must have detected something in it for his own expression changed, became arrested.

“You bet I am,” he muttered as he strode after her.

Ten minutes later they arrived at the small pool. She pushed through the overhanging shrubbery and dropped down on the mossy bank. She noticed her hands were shaking and quickly folded them on her lap. “Be prepared for a shock. The water’s cold after this hot sun.”

“You’re not going in again?”

“I’ll wait here.”

He caught the slight huskiness in her voice, and his eyes narrowed on her face. “Wait for what?”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “I’ll just wait.”

“What’s this all about, Ysabel?”

She hadn’t expected to feel this nervous and shy. It took an effort to answer casually, “It’s all about heat. You’re hot and you’re going to take a swim.”

She could feel his gaze on her face, then heard, the rustle of clothing as he began to undress.

A moment later she heard the splash of water and raised her eyes to see Jed in the pond. The sunlight played on the shifting muscles of his tight buttocks, highlighted the corded tendons of his upper thighs.

Heat rippled through her and she found her nails biting into her palms.

He was chest-deep in water before he turned to face her. “You’re right, it’s cold as—” His muscles tensed. “Ysabel?”

She finished unbuttoning her shirt and slipped it off, then pulled off her boots and socks.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” he asked thickly, staring at her naked breasts.

“Undressing.” She wriggled out of her trousers, threw them aside, and began to unbraid her hair. “I want to get some sun.” She ran her fingers through her loosened hair before lying down on the mossy bank.

“That’s not all you’re going to get.”

His gaze on her body was generating more heat than the blazing sun. She could feel the blood running hot beneath her skin, scorching her cheeks and ripening the tips of her breasts. “I suspected as much.” She had to pause to steady her voice. “Feel free to ignore me, if you wish. I don’t want to force—”

“Ignore you?” He was moving toward the bank. “Are you crazy? You don’t ignore a full-course meal after almost starving to death.” He stepped on the bank and stood over her. His wet skin gleamed bronze in the sunlight and his arousal was stark,
shocking. Drops of water fell from his body onto her sun-warmed flesh. They did not cool her. “Why now?”

She might have known he wouldn’t accept without questioning. She had to quickly do something to distract him. “What difference does it make?”

“I need to know—” He broke off as she reached out and touched his calf. The muscles hardened, bunched beneath her palm.

Her hand moved along his calf, kneading, caressing.

A shudder went through him and he closed his eyes. The next moment his lids flicked open. “It does make a difference.” He fell to his knees beside her. “But I don’t give a damn. Not now.”

He parted her thighs and moved between them. He slid with excruciating slowness into the depths of her womanhood. He was cool, heavy, hard in her warmth, and the sensation was unbearably erotic.

“Lord, it’s good.” His voice was shaking. “Tight. It’s like nothing I’ve—” He reached under her, gathering her buttocks in his palms. “Hold on.” He brought her high and forward as he began to plunge and drive.

A storm of emotion, sensation spiraling, whirling, giving, taking. She felt held, possessed, totally, dangerously dominated, but the
pleasure
 …

Her hands reached out, blindly grasping his shoulders; her head thrashed back and forth on the moss. The tempo increased, the tension growing.

“Jed …”

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “It’s ripping me apart.
I need to …” His words trailed off as he began bucking, rotating, taking more.

“Yes.” She wanted to scream, but the word came out in a whimper. “Yes, that’s what—” She arched with a low cry.

Release
.

A climax as violent, demanding, and wild as the striving that had gone on before.

Jed stiffened above her, the tendons visible in his throat as he clenched his teeth and threw back his head. “Ysabel!”

Her name sounded guttural, rasping, without the musical intonation she had become accustomed to hearing from him, but it filled her with primitive satisfaction. He collapsed on top of her, and her arms closed fiercely around him.
Hers
.

He did not move for a few moments, his weight endearingly heavy on her body. Then he stirred and she reluctantly loosened her clasp and let him go. His chest was still heaving as he lifted his head and looked warily down at her. “Now, what the hell was that all about?”

Not hers. He could never be entirely hers. She quickly smothered the ripple of pain the thought brought. How stupid. She had known this joy would be fleeting when she had begun. “It’s very simple. I wanted this to happen.”