Heart of Fire (25 page)

"Bullshit." The word burst out of him. "You can't keep your hands off of me."

"It must be your elegant way of putting things," she said sarcastically. "Good night. I'm going to sleep."

He set his hammock to swaying gently, his good humor restored. She was obviously crazy about him.

They left the moloca the next morning, accompanied by Datta Dasa and four more tribesmen, and reached the river three hours later. The tribesmen led them unerringly to where they had left the boats. Ben wasn't very surprised to find that one of the boats was gone; he wouldn't have been surprised if both of them had been missing. The only thing that worried him was the possibility that somehow Kates and Dutra had gotten ahead of them and taken the boat to wait in ambush around some bend. It would make more sense to wait here at the boats; perhaps they were somewhere watching, but reluctant to do anything with the Yanomami there. If even one tribesman escaped an ambush, Kates and Dutra would be in trouble, for they couldn't hope to match the Indians in their jungle skills or knowledge.

The hidden rafts and cache of supplies hadn't been disturbed, though, so Ben felt better about their safety. If Kates had indeed taken the first boat, he would certainly have taken the supplies as well.

They loaded part of the supplies and one of the rafts. Kates and Dutra might get the rest of the supplies, but on the other hand Pepe and the other men might be the ones to use them. There was no way to tell. At last they said their good-byes, and Ben started the engine, slowly reversing the boat out of the cove and into the river channel. Jillian waved until the boat passed out of sight of the Yanomami.

Dutra pressed deep into the shelter of buttressed roots that rose several feet higher than his head, scarcely even daring to breathe for fear the Indians would hear him. If he hadn't lost his pistol, he thought viciously, things would have been different. But the pistol had disappeared when a mud slide caught him two days before, sweeping him into a ravine. As it was he had to cower in the bushes to keep those scrawny little bastards from knowing he was there. They were no match for him in strength, but those poison arrows gave them the advantage now that he was unarmed.

He had pushed himself to the limits, trying to get to the boats first, and he'd made it. But since he was unarmed, there was no point in waiting to ambush Lewis, and he had no way of getting another gun this far upriver. Instead he had taken the other boat and hidden it farther upstream, then waited for Lewis and the woman to show themselves. He had started to load some supplies, but realized in time that would be a dead giveaway, and would make Lewis even more wary.

Now all he had to do was follow them downriver, hanging back and waiting until he could find a weapon. Once they reached the more traveled waters, he would be able to jump some river trader and steal a gun. By then Lewis should be feeling nice and safe, and he wouldn't be paying attention. A couple of quick bullets, and the diamond would be his.

Dutra forced himself to wait an hour, giving the Yanomami plenty of time to leave the area and making certain he wouldn't accidentally come upon the other boat before he was ready. An hour's time would be easy to make up when he needed to.

Despite having lost the pistol, Dutra was satisfied with the way things were turning out. Since Kates had told him that Lewis had found the diamond, Dutra hadn't been able to think about anything else. If he had that diamond he would be able to wear fancy clothes and lots of gold jewelry, the way the people on television did. He would buy a big American car to drive around Manaus, and people would be afraid of him. He would never again have to hide upriver when the police were looking for him; he would simply pay a bribe, and they would leave him alone.

He dreamed about the diamond. He hadn't seen it, but he lovingly dwelt on the image in his mind. It would look like a piece of ice, shaped like those diamonds in a fancy lady's ring, only a lot bigger. It would blind him to look at it in the sun, it would glitter so. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted the diamond. Lewis didn't deserve to have it. He would kill Lewis, and enjoy doing it.

The first thing Jillian did was sling a hammock in the shade of the flat roof and gratefully ease into it.

Ben looked around at her, feeling a sense of relief now that they were alone once more. He was glad they had met up with the Yanomami, but at the same time he felt as if his privacy had been invaded. He liked knowing that he and Jillian were alone.

"The captain expects more effort from his crew than that," he said.

"The crew will make an effort tomorrow," she said, closing her eyes.

"What's wrong with today? You had plenty of sleep last night."

"I'm always really tired and don't feel good on the first day of my period," she explained, keeping her eyes closed.

The silence was thick. Then Ben said, "I'm learning. You didn't actually say you were having your period. You simply made a statement that you get tired and don't feel good on the first day of your period. You're still punishing me, aren't you?"

"I'm having my period," she said flatly. "And I don't know any way I could have arranged that to coincide with your many transgressions."

Ben looked at her again, this time noting the circles under her eyes. She wasn't kidding. He felt a moment's dismay, then concern. "Do you have anything to take? What can I do to make you feel better?"

She did open her eyes then, and smiled at him. A real smile, not the angelic smile that made him shudder. "I'm okay. I don't feel sick, just tired. If you really need me, wake me up. And I promise I'll be better tomorrow."

He couldn't leave the wheel, not in this section of the river, or he would have taken her in his arms and cuddled her, held her while she slept. He always had this strange compulsion to baby her, and that was ridiculous, because she was one of the most capable, stalwart people he'd ever met, man or woman.

He said, "How long does this usually last?"

"What, my period, or your strange delusion that everything I do is planned specifically to keep you from making love as often as you seem to think you should? My period will last four or five days. I've seen no break in your delusion at all."

He grinned. Ah, he loved it when she talked sweet to him. "I don't know where you got the idea that having a period prevents making love."

"From the fact that I don't feel like it, don't want to, and won't let you."

"I guess that about covers the issue."

She chuckled at the rueful note in his voice and snuggled more comfortably into the depths of the hammock. "By the way, I hadn't thought of refusing to 'walk' with you until you made it so obvious it was what you expected. Thanks for the idea. I was just going to make your food taste bad."

He was very still for a moment. Then he began to laugh. "The next time, sweetheart, use your own judgment."

"I did," she said smugly, closing her eyes again. "I know how to recognize a superior idea when I hear it."

He was still chuckling. "Sleep tight, sweetheart."

"Thank you, I will."

Several minutes later he looked back again, and saw the evenness of breathing that signaled sleep, and he smiled. Even when she was being diabolical and cantankerous, he had more fun being with her than he'd ever had before in his life. He'd find some way to keep her in Manaus.

That night she slept in his arms. She had expected they would once again sleep in the hammocks, but he unrolled the sleeping pad and arranged the mosquito netting so it formed a small tent over it, remembering her dislike for sleeping totally unprotected from any stray insect. She lay with her head pillowed on his shoulder, and slept better than she had in days. The heat had become oppressive again once they left the mountains, but even though they would have been much cooler had they slept apart, neither of them suggested it or moved. She felt happier when she could touch him. Though she also loved to tease and irritate him, she was never more content than when he was holding her.

Their days together were numbered now, to about a week. She remembered that he had said the return to Manaus would take less time than the trip upriver, since they would be traveling with the current instead of against it She wanted to seize every moment with him while she could. Things would change rapidly once they reached Manaus. She would do what she had to do, and then she would return to the States.

But for now she was in his arms.

Now that they were on the boat again, everything was so much easier that during the next few days she felt almost as if she were on vacation. The toilet facilities, which had seemed so make-do and inadequate before, now seemed positively luxurious. Cooking on the alcohol stove was a delight. Even the limited varieties of food were perfectly satisfying, since they could take their time eating each meal. They each had a change of clothes, having left one with the extra supplies as a precaution, and she had her personal items. Life was basic, but it was good.

They began passing tin and cardboard shacks, built on stilts on the river's edge, signs of encroaching "civilization." Right now there weren't many of the shacks, but the farther they went downriver the more there would be, lining the riverbank in increasing numbers. These were individual dwellings, but soon there would be the occasional settlement, groups of shacks huddled together and connected to the outside world only by the traders who plied the river.

Two children ran out of one isolated shack, waving wildly, perhaps thinking that Ben and Jillian were traders or perhaps just excited to see the boat. Jillian waved back at them. They didn't have much in their lives to get excited about.

"How often do you have guide jobs?" she asked idly, imagining a life spent permanently on the rivers and in the jungles.

"As often as I want. I usually like to take some free time between jobs, the length of the free time depending on the length of the job. If it's just a week with some tourists who want to experience the 'real' Amazon, a weekend off is enough. Most jobs last longer, though. The one before this one took a couple of months. I'd planned to take a full month off before signing up for another one."

"So why didn't you?"

"Curiosity. I knew Kates was up to no good, and I wanted to know exactly what he was after. And he paid good money up front."

She leaned against one of the roof poles, her expression pensive. "What happened that last morning in the Stone City? Why was Kates shooting at you? Was that what set Dutra off?"

"I guess." He felt uncomfortable. "They must have had it planned, that Kates's shot would be the signal to Dutra."

"But what happened to start it? We didn't find any treasure. There was no reason for it to happen."

He should have known that when she had time to think about it, her agile mind would start putting the pieces together and notice the gaps. "I woke up early and left the camp. Kates must have thought I was up to something, because he followed me. He took it pretty hard that the diamond was long gone, and that the temple wasn't full of gold."

"When I crawled out of the tent, Dutra didn't try to shoot me. He just looked at me and grinned."

''Probably saving you for last," Ben growled, rage building in him at the thought. "Literally."

"I wish I had thought to get my pistol instead of the flashlight. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"I'm just glad you didn't get into a shoot-out with him," he said, shuddering inwardly at the thought. "You did exactly what I had told you to do, and I'd have been pissed as hell if you hadn't."

"But Rick might still be alive if I had."

"And he might not. There's no way to second-guess what will happen when bullets start flying. You might have shot him yourself, by accident. Never play the 'if only' game; it's a stupid waste of time."

His rough logic made her smile, though a little sadly. Ben would never waste time with regrets; he would simply forge ahead, single-minded and ruthlessly determined. His playfulness and raunchy sense of humor sometimes masked that part of him, what she felt was the biggest part of him, but she never forgot it was there. People who underestimated him did so at their own risk; she had underestimated him at first, but had quickly realized her mistake and never let herself forget it. Ben was of that very different breed, the adventurer, the explorer. He made his own rules and was willing to enforce them. His edicts and warnings on the trail were so effective because no one was in any doubt that he would do exactly what he had said he would do.

How dull and bland life would be without him. Excitement crackled around him; he was lusty, dangerous, bigger than life. How could any other man ever measure up to him?

"I thought you were a drunken bum," she said, her eyes twinkling.

His eyebrows quirked. "I thought you were in desperate need of being laid."

"That would, of course, be your first concern."

"Yes, ma'am." He was drawling. "It was then and it is now."

"At least you're consistent."

"Persistent, too. Is today okay?"

As she had every day, she smiled and shook her head. "Tomorrow."

"If tomorrow is okay, why isn't today?"

"Because I said so."

"You've let this little taste of power go to your head."

She blew him a kiss, still smiling. His gut tightened and he began to get hard, but he found that he was smiling too. The shadows had lifted from her eyes and she looked happy. He wanted that expression to stay on her face; he wanted her to wake up smiling every morning, her eyes full of sleepy contentment as she turned toward him and put her hand on his chest.

The noon tropical sun was burning down on him, but suddenly it wasn't half as bright as the realization that slammed into him. His pupils dilated and the sunlight stabbed painfully at his eyes, almost blinding him. He gripped the wheel as if it were a lifeline, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to get the world to settle back on its normal axis.

He had been determined to keep Jillian in Manaus, to have a "relationship" with her, whatever the hell that meant. It was very simple and forthright for him: he wanted her around. He wanted to sleep with her every night. That logically meant living together. Though he'd never taken things that far before, he'd felt comfortable with the idea, even liked it. But in that overwhelming moment of realization everything had crystallized, and the blinders of habit were destroyed.

He wanted Jillian forever.

"Living together" suddenly seemed far too impermanent, too unreliable. He wanted the strength of legal bonds. His mind had never before even formed the word "marriage" in connection with a particular woman, but with Jillian it was the only tolerable situation. She was his, for a lifetime.

His hands shaking, he pulled back on the throttle and began idling toward shore.

She looked around in curiosity. "What are you doing?"

His entire big body was shaking visibly, and she was suddenly alarmed. She reached out to steady him, her arm sliding around his waist. "Ben? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he said between gritted teeth. "I have to have you. Now."

This was different from the groaning, humorously inventive pleading with which he had entertained her over these past few days. There was no humor in his eyes; his expression was frighteningly intense. He was still shaking, the powerful muscles in his bare torso so tight she could see them rippling.

"Don't say no. Please. Not this time." He could barely talk. His entire body was consumed by overwhelming need.

She stood uncertainly for another few seconds, confused and a little alarmed. Then she knew what to do. She pressed a gentle kiss to his sweaty bare shoulder, then moved under the roof to prepare herself for him.

By the time the boat was secured, she was lying naked on the sleep pad, waiting for him. That curious blindness was still in his eyes when he came to her, shoving his pants down and sinking into her arms. He entered her immediately, pushing deep on the first thrust; she flinched from the pain, but held him even tighter, trying to ease his desperate urgency.

With penetration, the awful tension seemed to ease from his body, his muscles relaxing with great shudders as if this intimate contact with her relieved some unbearable inner pain.

Gently she stroked his shoulders and neck, sliding her fingers beneath his dark hair. After a moment he eased his weight up onto his elbows. His blue eyes were very dark. He brushed slow, warm, beguiling kisses across her mouth and throat, and then, with aching tenderness, he began to make love to her.

They lingered in the noonday heat, reveling in the exquisite intimacy. All of their previous heated lovemaking had only prepared them for this, for the slow ecstasy that caught them in its grip and wouldn't let go. Her senses were almost painfully heightened. Every brush against her skin made her moan with delight; he lazily licked her nipples and her wild, strained cry sent birds fluttering skyward in alarm. Time meant nothing. She wanted this moment never to end.

But it did. It had to; it was too intense to be sustained for long. Afterward he lay beside her, relaxed and drowsy, his hand rubbing absently on her stomach as if, she thought wryly, she were an alligator to be soothed into sleep.

She didn't want to talk, didn't want to ask why. She was afraid she would cry if she did. Emotion swelled in her chest until it was difficult to breathe. She loved him so much.

She thought perhaps they dozed, one of those periods of deep unconsciousness from which she awoke feeling as if no time had passed, though she knew it had. The sun had slipped from its zenith, the burning rays angling to reach beneath the roof. Ben stirred and stretched, then rolled to his knees and pulled up his pants.

She expected one of his provoking, smart-ass remarks, or at least a certain smugness, but his expression, though relaxed now, was still somber. He lifted her to her feet with that effortless strength of his and held her locked in his arms for a long minute, his cheek resting on top of her head. Then he kissed her, hard, and said, "Let's get you dressed before someone comes by."

"We haven't seen anyone since we passed that shack, and we haven't seen another boat all day."

Now that familiar grin showed itself again. "I thought you had a streak of exhibitionism in you, prancing around the way you did in front of the Yanomami."

She burst into laughter. "That was your idea."

"Yeah, but I thought you'd keep your undershirt on."

"It needed washing, too."

She dressed while they bantered back and forth, and then they decided they were hungry. She made a quick fish stew, simply stirring together the canned ingredients and bringing the mixture to a boil. Their appetites were easily satisfied these days, for they had become accustomed to a sparse, plain diet. Probably a full restaurant meal would have made them both sick. Their stomachs would have to be reaccustomed to civilization, too.

Ben started the engine and backed the boat away from the bank, then carefully turned it around and began idling out of the cove into the river channel. He saw another boat coming downriver and pushed the throttle out of gear so it could pass by ahead of them.

Jillian stared at the oncoming boat, shading her eyes with her hands. "That boat's built just like ours," she said. "It looks like our other boat." She narrowed her eyes and focused on the boat pilot, noting the massive shoulders and too-little head. "Dutra!" she gasped, in mingled horror and disbelief.

Ben shoved the throttle all the way forward and the boat surged in response, the motor roaring. At the same time Dutra must have realized whom he was overtaking, for he too pushed the throttle to full power.

"Get down," Ben said automatically. "And slide my pistol up here to me." Damn it, he was almost never without that pistol within reach whenever he was on the river, but this was one of those rare times. Violently he wished for a rifle.

Dutra fired, but he was too far away for accuracy and the bullet zinged overhead.

Jillian got Ben's pistol and crawled on her hands and knees, staying well below the sides of the boat, out of sight, until she could reach up and place it in his outstretched hand. "Get back. He'll shoot at me, since I'm the only one he can see."

"Then you get down too, idiot," she snapped, tugging at his pants.

The boats were surging toward each other at an angle, at full power. Ben spun the wheel sharply to the right, hoping to save a few precious seconds, if only they didn't run aground on one of the numerous snags. The movement slung Jillian off balance, and she rolled into the boxes of supplies. Dutra fired again, and this time the bullet splintered the wood railing.