[Atlantean's Quest 01] The Arrival (4 page)

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t, because like the poor locals, he could have her bounced out of here in a heartbeat. Rachel found someone to point out where her tent was located and then phoned Jac, only to get her answering machine. The woman was never home. Rachel left a message letting her know that the flight arrived more or less on time and everything appeared to be on schedule. She hung up after saying she’d call her in a week, purposely omitting the fact that the expedition had already encountered sabotage.

* * * * *

Night fell quickly in the jungle. The air in the tent grew smothering as Rachel unpacked only essentials. The cot, on the other hand, was actually quite comfortable once she put the sleeping bag down and mosquito netting up.

She peeked out the door. A fire blazed in the center of the group of tents. Some of the men gathered away from the flames, sitting in a circle and swapping what appeared to be fishing stories.

Rachel tied the flap of the tent up in hopes of catching a breeze, any kind of relief from the stifling conditions. She walked into the clearing, near the log stumps positioned around the fire.

She took a seat on one of the logs, furthest from the flames. It was unbearably hot, the air so thick that it hung in low, shadowy clouds just above the treetops, pressing down on the creatures below in a smothering embrace. A cacophony of insects swirled in the night sky, their buzzing surprisingly soothing.

Winged creatures, probably bats, dove close to the fire, pulling up at the last minute in amazing aerial acrobatic feats. Monkeys squealed, their haunting cries so human-like she found it disconcerting.

In the distance she could just barely make out the sound of rushing water through the wall of trees. A stream definitely ran nearby, probably the one the Professor had mentioned. Rachel squinted, trying to pierce the darkness. She couldn’t see any sign of the stream or the three-quarter moon’s reflection on anything resembling the tempting liquid.

A cool dip in running water would feel like heaven right about now. Anything to get the sweat off her body. But it was dangerous to go near the stream. Predators came out to hunt, and the most vulnerable prey was found near water.

Perspiration dripped between her breasts, saturating the bottom of her bra. Loose tendrils of hair clung to her temples. The back of her shirt was soaked down the center, and sticking to her like a second skin.

She walked back to her tent and pulled out the zoological guidebook from the case containing her work papers. It had arrived yesterday with Donald’s supply shipment and had been placed inside her tent. As she flipped through the pages in the glow of the kerosene lantern, she read up on what little was known about the local predators.

The waters in this area weren’t supposed to be home to piranha. Only the occasional anaconda and crocodile lived in these parts, but were mainly found deeper in the jungle. According to the book, the animals had been pushed further in due to mans’ encroachment.

An anaconda would make a meal out of her in seconds, probably before she could even scream. Fortunately, the snakes didn’t eat every day because of their slow metabolism. It was lucky for her that the efficient predators tended to avoid running water, preferring instead to use calm pools to drown their victims.

Lovely image
.

Sweat dripped from her chin onto her book. She slammed it closed, her decision made. She’d rather take on an anaconda than turn into a puddle. She dropped the book on the cot and grabbed a towel from her pack, along with a change of clothes. Her hand dug deep trying to arrange the items into some semblance of neatness. Satisfied, Rachel reached for the zoological guide to return it to her work case. She was pushing papers aside when her hand struck something hard. Rachel pulled the item from the case. A semi-automatic Glock dangled from her fingertips with a note taped to it from Jac.

You didn’t think I’d let you go down there without taking one of my little friends with you, did you? Love, Jac.

Rachel glanced over at her cot. A pistol had been placed in her tent by one of the workers. Her lips twisted into a smile as she reread Jac’s note. She laughed, then tucked the present into the bottom of her tote for safekeeping. It was far too visible in her work case. Anyone could find it. Rachel didn’t even question how Jac had managed to get it in there. Some things were best left unknown. She picked up the guide-supplied pistol, taking a few minutes to get used to its unusual weight in her hand. She didn’t like guns, never had.

She gathered a flashlight and tucked all the items into her safari shirt pockets. When she looked out of the tent, her eyes were drawn to a young native nearby. With a wave of her hand, she signaled for him to come over.

Shy brown eyes looked warily at her beneath long black lashes. His face was a flawless brown coffee color. She decided to speak to the young man in his local dialect, as opposed to English. His face brightened instantly and dimples appeared on his cheeks.

She asked where the path to the water was located. He shook his head and looked around, his eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow. Rachel reassured him that he wouldn’t get into trouble if he just pointed her in the right direction.

He hesitated.

Rachel gave him an encouraging look and he acquiesced. She took out a few dollars and pressed them in his small hand. He flashed her a quick smile and then bolted. Rachel watched his retreating form until he disappeared out of sight, before turning to gaze into the darkness. She shivered, despite the heat, her gaze searching the inky blackness for any cause of her unease. She shook off the unwanted feeling.

* * * * *

From the darkness, sharp eyes watched the woman leave her tent. She made a right and headed down the trail in the direction of the water. Eros smiled.

Come to me, my Queen
.

Chapter Three

Rachel made her way, flashlight in hand, down a trail she hadn’t seen earlier in the day. Ferns were thick around her ankles and vines hung haphazardly across the path. The sound of crashing water grew louder, swallowing up all trace of the camp behind her. She could almost feel the refreshing spray upon her heated skin.

Several minutes passed, the trail widened a bit and the water roared. Orchids clung to the sides of trees like babes to teats, their blooms sweetening the air. Rachel pushed a vine out of the way and stepped into a tiny clearing. A waterfall tumbled from a small outcropping of rocks, plunging into a churning pool. Ten feet further the frothy water turned placid, the current gentle, as it meandered out of sight.
Anaconda territory.

The swirling liquid looked amazingly black, even with the reflection of the three- quarter moon shining upon its surface, casting an ethereal glow. She glanced up. Never in all the years of living in New York had Rachel ever seen a sky as wondrous as this star-spattered blanket of ebony.

A breeze caught spray from the waterfall, gently misting her face. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sudden refreshment. Leaves crunched nearby.

Rachel’s eyes flew open and she whirled around, flashlight in hand, frantically trying to catch any sign of movement. Which was nearly impossible with her fingers trembling like she’d polished off five pots of coffee. It looked more like she tried to hail aliens, than spot the culprit.

Her beam passed quickly over a set of glowing red eyes.

She jerked the light back, but in the second it took the glowing orbs were gone. Her brows furrowed and she shook her head. The specks had been too large to be anything other than her imagination. Nonetheless, she scrutinized the area again, shining the beam on the tree branches and the jungle floor—

Nothing.

Anacondas do not have big round eyes. It must have been a trick of the light.

She pictured Dr. Rumsinger’s bespectacled orbs and laughed. She was pretty sure no one would feel more repulsed by her nakedness than Donald, if he were lurking in the shadows. It would serve him right to be disgusted considering the stunts he’d pulled on her.

Rachel set the light down and began to undress. The pistol fell out of her pocket with a muted clunk.

Smooth move, Rachel
.
If you shoot yourself in the foot you’ll never be able to go back to the museum and face your co-workers.
There’s nothing here, so relax.

She reached down and scooted the weapon away from the water’s edge, but still within easy reach if she needed to get to it. Rachel expelled a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, and pulled her clinging shirt from her body. It made a disgusting, sucking noise. Rachel cringed and decided unless she wore rubber, clothes should never make those kinds of sounds. She removed her bra and her nipples sprang to life, beading instantly in the hot humid air. She placed her clothes next to the gun.

Rachel smiled and stretched her arms slowly, luxuriously above her head. “Ah…that’s better.”

As she reached down to untie her hiking boots, the hair at her nape rose. She grabbed the flashlight and swung it around wildly, but once again the beam landed on nothing. Not even a monkey lurked near the edge of the water. She blew out a steadying breath.

Definitely a city girl
.

Shrugging, she set the light back down and untied her laces, toeing off the boots. She worked the buttons on her pants until they were loose enough to slide over her hips. Rachel stood next to the pool in her lace underwear, listening.

Insects had stopped singing and the jungle had fallen still. Her heart pounded as her fight or flight response kicked in.

Something watched her from the jungle.

Please don’t let it be a predator.

She waited for a several minutes, heart slamming in her chest, until the feeling of being watched went away. Rachel sent a small prayer of thanks up to the heavens, then shucked off her underwear and made a shallow dive into the water. Slicing through the churning liquid, she surfaced several yards from the shore. The water pooled just deep enough to reach her full breasts. She hoped against hope that if anything was out there, whatever
it
was couldn’t swim.

Nothing moved.

She looked all around, waiting. She dunked her head under the water again to pull her hair from her face.

When she broke the surface the flashlight was off.

A chill raced up her spine.

Snakes don’t turn lights off. Only men.

Expressing more bravado than she actually felt, she shouted, “Show yourself.”

Her eyes frantically darted around the thick canopy. She caught no sign of movement. Gradually, her vision adjusted to the dark. Rachel could make out monkeys skulking along branches and bats flying in the night sky.

A swift movement caught her eye. Something large loomed about twenty yards away in the darkness. Its massive frame moved effortlessly and silently amongst the trees.

She tried to recall the guidebook’s entry on animals. There wasn’t any documented creature of that size inhabiting the area.

“Professor, is that you?” she asked, realizing as she spoke there was no way Donald could have produced that size shadow.

No answer.

“Come on, stop fooling around. This isn’t funny anymore.” Her voice quivered.

Suddenly the threatening feeling shifted, morphed into something…familiar, which wasn’t possible, was it? Rachel felt flushed, as if the creature’s eyes were skimming over her body like licking flames, roaming, exploring, and cataloging every square inch of her exposed flesh. Mapping her hidden areas for later exploration.

Rachel had the urge to dip down in the water, effectively covering herself from its seeking gaze. Her little-used body had other ideas, and her nipples pebbled in response, engorging with blood until they ached.

A little voice in her head asked.
What would Jac do?

Letting out a haggard breath, she took a tentative step toward shore, exposing her breasts fully. Her skin prickled as the water cascaded down the valley between her voluptuous globes, like a thousand tiny licking caresses.

Rachel thought she heard a groan, but the roar of the water muffled all sound. She paused, listening, trying to decide just how far she was willing to show herself. After all, she wasn’t sure precisely what or whom she dealt with here.

A smile curved her full lips as she pictured exactly what her friend Jac would do in this situation. Rachel reached up slowly with her hands and placed her fingers over the tips of her breasts and tugged gently, fondling the peaks.

A strangled sound came from the darkest part of the jungle. Empowered, she pulled at her nipples, her movements deliberate and sensual, circling them until they marbled. The dusky tips quivered and throbbed with need.

It’s probably one of the guides, hiding by the trees.
Rachel decided to give him a good show, a sort of twisted punishment for spying on her.

She took another step and the water level dropped to mid-thigh, exposing her pussy. Droplets of water clung to the thick nest of sable hair covering her clit. Rachel reluctantly pulled one hand from her nipple and ran her fingertips over the soft, curving flesh of her waist, straight for the sensitive nub buried beneath her mound. With seduction in mind, she slid her finger over her wet folds and felt her body flush anew with its natural juices.

Rachel moaned.

Her breathing hitched. Suddenly she wasn’t just teasing some stranger in the dark. Her body wanted this, needed this, longed for this and knowing someone out there watched only made it more erotic.

She picked up the rhythm as her body tightened in readiness, her orgasm drawing nearer.

Rachel took a couple more steps and reached the shore. Her wobbly legs refused to go further. She dropped down on the grassy bank, falling over onto her back, now cushioned by the lush vegetation. One hand pulled at her nipples while the other, slick with pussy juice, continued to work its magic pleasuring her.