[Atlantean's Quest 01] The Arrival (13 page)

“You will understand soon,” he smiled, “once the mating ceremony is complete and my seed is planted deep within your womb.” Eros began clearing the dye and brush off the table. He returned them to the compartment hidden in the side of the wall. Rachel glimpsed tools and other instruments, before he stepped away, closing the case behind him.

Now is not the time for curiosity
, she mentally chastised.
I’ve got more important things to take care of here.

Rachel faced Eros, her fingers resting lightly on her hips. “There isn’t going to be a mating ceremony or planting of seed. I’m not a farmer’s field. Where I’m from people don’t usually mate to have babies, unless they’re married. And seeing as though we’re not wed, this conversation is mute.” She reddened. It made her uncomfortable to discuss this with him.

“Exactly.”

“Ooogh, are you trying to piss me off?” Rachel balled her hands into tight fists, but resisted the urge to slug the jerk. She figured if she hit him, the only person who’d get hurt would be her. Besides, he was mentally unstable. She should humor him.

Eros stepped forward, raising his hands to take her in his arms, but stopped short. “I’m not trying to upset you, my Queen, although I seem to be successful in that respect.” The corners of his firm lips quirked in a half smile. “I speak the truth.”

Rachel reached out and covered his mouth with her hand, trying to quiet him long enough for her to think things through. He kissed her palm, flicking his tongue at its center.

She quickly pulled away and tried to regain her composure. The skin still tingled where his lips had touched. “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that I’m Queen, then who is King?”

Eros smiled slowly, an erotically carnal action that caused the proverbial curling of her toes. “I am.” He kissed her forehead, turned, and walked out of the hut.

Chapter Ten

A queer sensation twisted in Rachel’s belly, and she was rendered speechless. Confusing emotions and thoughts swirled through her, all fighting one another for attention.

He’d said she’d been chosen by this tribe to mate with him, but that was ridiculous. She wished that the thought of having sex with him was unappealing, but ever since she’d laid eyes on him, saying that would have been a bald-faced lie.

If she’d met Eros in New York she’d probably have thrown herself at him and begged the big oaf to fuck her silly, until she couldn’t walk the next day. And that was saying a lot coming from a girl that had been celibate for the last two years.

She looked down at her nipples, bright red with dye, complete with glittering gold rings. Considering what a god Eros was, she’d probably have let him pierce her in New York, too. Hell, she’d probably have allowed him to tattoo his name across her forehead.

Rachel rolled her eyes as her thoughts turned to Eros and his people, their beauty almost astonishing in its perfection. Rachel glanced down at her body. She wasn’t even going to go there right now. These people seemed to have developed a form of telepathic language that would leave even the top psychics envious. Not that Rachel believed in those kinds of abilities, but it was hard to ignore what she’d seen. That left, of course, Eros’s ability to generate healing energy from his hands. Was it real? Rachel sighed. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

What if the lost civilization of Atlantis existed and ended up on the other side of the world?
Not that she lent the thought any credence.

So many theories existed about Atlanteans. One popular hypothesis was that it had sunk due to a volcanic eruption equivalent to the disaster in Pompeii. Another researcher found what he thought was proof of a giant tidal wave. Yet another believed Atlanteans originated from the area of the Bermuda Triangle.

The most radical of the bunch of theorists was a professor of ancient civilizations. His hypothesis stated that Atlanteans developed a society so advanced that their technological expertise destroyed them.

Rachel decided that once she returned to the museum she’d dedicate some time to reading the research papers that had been written on the subject.

If these people were Atlanteans, this would be the discovery of a lifetime.

Society could benefit from their knowledge. Rachel would be recognized in all the anthropological journals, receive book deals, do the talk show circuit—the sky was the limit. Professor Donald could then slither back under the rock from which he came.

She had to think of a way out of here. Maybe if she left tonight she’d be able to get out of the tree without her fear of heights kicking in. It would be dark, so she wouldn’t see the steep drop. Rachel swallowed the burst of fear and reaffirmed her decision. She would wait until the tribe had gone to sleep, then she would make her escape.

Rachel wondered where Eros had gone. Would he be sleeping with one of his many women tonight? The thought chafed her ass. He’d better not be fucking someone else, not if he expected to become her mate.

What am I saying?

There will be no mating ceremony, no coronation—no nothing. I’m out of here in a couple of hours. What Eros does is no concern of mine.

Hours passed and the village quieted. Rachel threw back the hide covering the door and peeked out. Fear and panic gripped at her insides like a living entity trying to pull her back inside. No one stirred in the surrounding huts. The moon would be full by tomorrow night, so it would be fairly easy to find her way out of the encampment.

Eros was nowhere to be seen.

He’s probably in bed with some slut
. She ignored the pain that came with that thought.

Rachel walked back into the hut, donned her pants and T-shirt and retrieved her cell phone. She pocketed the phone, reluctantly dropped the beautiful skirt on the hides and headed out the door. Her nipple rings felt strange against her bra.

Talk about your souvenirs.

Before leaving, she tucked the tool Eros had used to pierce her inside one of her pockets. She now had the necessary evidence to prove that she’d actually been in an Atlantean society, or at the very least around a previously undiscovered tribe.

The moon cast ominous shadows on the jungle floor. Walking along the outside of the hut, she kept her back against the wall until she reached the corner of the building. Several vines hung from the trees in a mess of tangles. Rachel fought back the queasiness that threatened to empty her stomach’s contents.

It’s now or never
.

Rachel reached out and grabbed a vine, pulling on it firmly to ensure the rope like growth would hold her weight. She looked over her shoulder once more, but there was no movement.

She blew out a steadying breath.
Exactly like gym class
.
Just don’t look down
.

Stifling a scream, Rachel swung onto the vine and slid down as silently as possible. The rope slithered between her thighs, rubbing her clit through her pants. The gold rings on her nipples brushed her T-shirt, sending erotic sensations coursing through her body. She clamped her lips together to keep from groaning.

Rachel’s booted feet hit the ground. She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Rachel let go of the vine and pushed her body against the tree. There was still no sign of any disturbance. A voice niggled at the back of her mind,
this is too easy
, but she ignored it.

She searched the night sky until she located the North Star. She did a few quick calculations in her mind of the time she’d need to reach the river. She paused just long enough to get her bearings.

Ready, set—go.

Rachel took off running as fast as she could. Vines and undergrowth snarled at her feet, but didn’t slow her pace. She snapped branches and crushed ferns, running as hard as she could, always with one ear listening to see if someone followed. Her breathing was ragged and her legs burned.

After fifteen minutes of hard running, she slowed to a clipped jog. She’d lost sight of the North Star and had no idea what direction she was heading. Rachel prayed she wasn’t running in circles and that the river would appear in a few hours. If she got really lucky she’d run into the Professor.

And then I can kill him
.

After she enjoyed the shock on his face at seeing her return from the dead. Rachel knew she was talking nonsense. She couldn’t kill anything, but it made her feel better to think it. The best she could hope for was stumbling across her pack and retrieving Jac’s present or getting the jump on one of the smaller guides and taking his gun from him.

Two hours later, out of breath and out of steam, Rachel walked until she couldn’t take another step.

What was she going to do? She still hadn’t found a sign of water or her pack. She dropped to her knees next to a large tree that had partially eroded away. The arc shaped nook would provide adequate shelter for the night, and hopefully a hiding place if Eros came looking. Rachel rested her back against the bark and closed her eyes. She’d done it. She’d escaped. Unfortunately, the thought did not bring her any solace.

* * * * *

Eros fought the urge to swoop down and retrieve his woman. She’d led him on a merry chase through the jungle tonight. The pain of her rejection tore at his insides. He blew out a heavy breath. In time she’d learn to love him as much as he already loved her and if not, well he’d learn to live with it.

For now he’d have to be content in the tree above her, watching her sleep. His chest contracted, as if he’d received a physical blow. Tonight he’d let her feel a small moment of victory. Tomorrow he’d collect her and return her to the village.

In the end, she would not win.

A bitter hollow victory for him since the decision would not be of her choosing.

He was about to nod off when the crunching sound of movement caught his attention. Several members of Rachel’s expedition were making their way through the jungle, heading straight toward Rachel’s hiding place.

Eros unsheathed his knife. There were many, but he’d kill every last one of the men before he’d let them take his woman.

* * * * *

Rachel woke with a start. She’d heard something, but in her dreamlike state she wasn’t sure what. She listened.

There it was again.

Someone was coming.

Panic struck. She pushed her body against the tree and stilled her breathing. She hadn’t come this far, only to have freedom ripped away from her. The noise drew nearer. Rachel recognized a couple of the voices. It was the expedition. Torn by fear and indecision, she stayed in place.

What would the men do once they discover I’m alive? Kill me?

She could stay rooted against the tree or take the chance that they’d be too scared to do anything other than, very worse case scenario, return her to the Professor. Hopefully in the time it took to get to Donald, she’d be able to acquire a weapon. Rachel decided to take her chances with her first captors, even though her heart sank at the thought of leaving her giant behind.

For a moment she pictured Eros, his beautiful body all lean and strong, standing proud in the doorway of his hut. His gaze burning with fire as he lovingly caressed her. Rachel took a ragged breath. She’d miss her giant.

Would she ever see his handsome face again, or taste his passionate kisses? Would he forgive her for leaving him if she did return one day? Rachel doubted he’d welcome her back with open arms, his pride would not allow it.

Rachel jumped out of the crevice, knowing there would be no happily ever after for them. She listened for the men, then followed their footsteps like a bloodhound. She was about to round the next tree when she tripped. Rachel felt around on the ground trying to figure out what the obstruction was when her hands encountered a pack. It wouldn’t be, could it? Her heart leapt for joy as her fingers dove to the bottom, encountering Jac’s little present. Relief flooded her as she rose to her feet, tucked the Glock against the small of her back and raced forward to catch up with the group. She came upon the men in less than five minutes.

Rachel let out a bloodcurdling scream followed by a loud, “Boo!”

The guides were swinging the beams of their flashlights wildly about, making the jungle look like a rave party. Their eyes were wide with fear and surprise. She didn’t see Jaro, but did recognize the other men. There was a lot of pushing and shoving along with frantic shouts about her being a ghost. The scene was utter chaos.

Afraid of angering the dead, not a single man reached for his gun. She had to hide a giggle at that. Let them think she’d returned from the dead. It would serve them right. The fear would actually work to her advantage.

Rachel raised her arms above her head, waggling her fingers menacingly. “Take me to the Professor or I will snatch your souls while you sleep,” she shouted in their native tongue.

Wild eyes looked from her to the jungle and back again. Some of the men were praying, while others begged her forgiveness. Rachel just leered and pointed at each man as if determining which one to take. The men quivered and shook. Several guides jumped up and ran off, disappearing in the thick undergrowth.

Donald pushed his way through the crowd and appeared at the front of the group. His face twisted in fury the moment he saw Rachel. “What are you doing here, Evans? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I didn’t like being dead, so I came back. I have some unfinished business to settle.” Rachel fought to control the fear racing through her veins. The Professor would jump on any sign of weakness.

“What would that be, Dr. Evans?” His tone was deceptively cool.

“I need to get the asshole fired that left me here to die in the jungle and, with any luck, arrested for attempted murder.”

Donald’s cheek twitched. “I’m not a fool like these idiots,” he spat out as he waved a hand aggressively at the guides. “If you’re dead, then so am I.”

Rachel laughed. ”Not yet, you’re not.”