River of Desire: A Romantic Action Adventure/Thriller (3 page)

“The locals believe that each of these mountain peaks has a guardian spirit, an
apus
. One of them must be watching over us now,” he said.

“
It’s a good thing.” And a good thing Dylan was so resourceful. Who else did she know who could turn a common household hanger into a car part? No one. Maybe she wasn’t so crazy after all to place her life in such capable hands.

* * *

By the time they arrived at a campsite near the river, the sun had dipped behind the highest mountain peak and the air had taken on a crispness that carried the rich smell of fertile soil. Leah emerged from the
Rover
drawing a cobalt sweatshirt over her lavender tee.

Nearby, Dylan wiped hands on his river bottom brown shirt and surveyed the site. “We’ll stay put tonight and make a fresh start in the morning.”

“Will the clutch incident set us back much? Time-wise?”

“
Not much. We can catch up when we meet the motorboat downstream.”

Leah eyed the moldy-smelling sleeping bag he pulled from the vehicle along with a small green tent. The tent seemed far too tiny for one, let alone two. “Let me help you with that.”     

Raised, it didn’t look any more spacious.

“
You sleep in here,” Dylan said.

“
Where will you sleep?”

He withdrew a sleeping bag from the rear compartment. “In this.”

“Outside, in the open?” She rubbed her chilled hands together, thinking about how cold it would be that night.

He removed a foam pad sequestered behind a
Primus
camp-stove and placed the sleeping bag on it. “I’m used to it. Actually prefer sleeping under the stars.” He propped the stove on top of a large, flat rock near where she stood.

The directions on the stove were in German. Here was her chance to show him he wasn’t dealing with a total nincompoop. “I know some German. Want me to translate the directions?”

He glanced over her shoulder at the stove, a sly smile lighting up his face. “Turn knob on right for propane,” he read.

“
Where did you learn German?”

“
Studied it in school. Practically every other student in the Austin schools took Spanish. I wanted to be different. Besides, I already spoke some Spanish at home. I’ve been able to practice my German in South America. There’s a fair number of Germans living here.”

“
I know.” Outdone this time, she had to accept defeat. She gathered her pad and sleeping bag to make up her bed in the tent. When she was done, she joined him back by the camp-stove. He had begun chopping potatoes on a cutting block.

“
Did you know that potatoes were originally domesticated in the Andes?” he asked. “You’re dining in the original home of the spud.”

If not the stud, she thought, eyeing him surreptitiously.

While he tossed potatoes, she added freeze-dried corn to a pan of water. Soon the appetizing aroma of vegetables sizzling on the stove reminded her that, in her rush to leave on time, she had forgotten to eat. Her stomach purred in hunger.

The wind picked up and made a rustling breeze in the nearby trees. “If you’re superstitious like the local
campesinos
, you’ll want to keep an eye out for a
pishtaco
tonight. The local villagers think they live in these mountains.”

“
Is that something like a fish taco?” she joked.

He grimaced. “Not quite.
Pishtacos
are more like vampires. They’re known for sucking the fat out of their victims.”

“
Sounds better than weight watchers.”

“
Except all they leave behind is a bag of bones.”

“
Is there anything more substantial than vampires to be concerned about here?” 

“
Plenty. For one thing, we’re low enough in the mountains to encounter scorpions.”

She groaned and peered about. More venomous creatures. She had wanted him to open up earlier, but, on second thought, it might be better if he kept these things to himself. “You’re kidding?”

“Not. Warning. A scorpion’s sting is miserable. Always check your sleeping bag and shoes before getting into them. And zip your tent against any intruders.”

She gave him her most wicked grin. “You bet I will.”

* * *

After dinner, Dylan removed a beer from the cooler, took a long gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of a sweatshirt sleeve. When he glanced up, Leah had just finished the dishes and was drying her hands on a torn towel. “I’ve heated water for you if you want to wash up.”

Much to his amusement, she carefully folded the towel and placed it neatly in a box. Her meticulousness seemed quaint, but useless under the circumstances.

She joined him by the fire. “That would be wonderful. I feel so grimy.”

He handed her a pan of warm water, which she carried to her tent and placed on the ground outside the flap. After scrubbing her Southern California tan, she vigorously brushed her short blond hair. He watched her silhouetted against the tent, his gaze coming to rest on her breast. 

“
Goodnight,” she called, then ducked into the tent and zipped the flap shut.

He downed the remainder of his beer before turning in, but the constant rustling in her tent while he bedded down in his sleeping roll disturbed him. “What’s going on in there?”

“I can’t sleep.” Her voice sounded husky with fatigue. “I keep feeling like something’s moving inside my sleeping bag. I’ve searched it a dozen times. Why did you have to tell me about those scorpions? Now I’m imagining them everywhere.”

“
Want me to check your bag?”

“
Please.”

He waited patiently for her to unzip the tent flap before he crawled inside. The flashlight beam immediately picked up her wide, frightened eyes. Next to her lay the dreaded sleeping bag. When he reached past her, to explore the bag, her scent, as sweet and fresh as the air after an electrical storm, wafted up to him. “Nothing in here.”

As he removed his hand, it accidentally grazed her leg, the skin as soft and appealing as velvet under his callused fingers. He hesitated longer than he probably should have. “Sorry.”

She pulled back. “Is everything okay?”

“Not to worry, You don’t have any unwanted company, except, of course, for me. Now get some sleep.”

He sauntered back to his own accommodations, accompanied by a symphony of zippers closing and crickets chirping. While he eased into his sleeping bag, he thought about morning and their descent down the mighty Maranon. He had given Leah as much information about the river as he could without scaring her unnecessarily. Even so, she had little idea of what lay ahead, probably because she wasn’t ready to hear him. He only hoped the river wouldn’t be too much for her.

* * *

A shout shocked Leah awake. Heart racing, she peeled out of the sleeping bag and threw open the tent’s flap. In the dim light of a crescent moon, she could barely make out shapes, just sounds, but it became immediately obvious no one was attacking Dylan.

“Jason, NO! No! Stop! Don’t do it!” came from the direction where Dylan slept.

Determined to help him, she crept softly toward him. Although careful, she almost tripped over him, but stopped before she lost her balance. She bent down to see what was bothering him.

He flailed about and shouted, “Don’t! You’re crazy. It’s suicide!” 

Relieved he was only having a bad dream, she stooped next to the writhing dark lump on the ground and gently pressed the heal of her hand into his shoulder, trying to rouse him. “Dylan.”

He bolted upright. “What? Huh?”

“
It’s me, Dylan,” she said softly, “Leah.”

“
Leah?” His breathing was ragged. “What’s the matter?”

“
You were shouting in your sleep, having a bad dream. I thought I better wake you. Are you all right?”

He took a gulp of air, loudly exhaled it. “Sure...sorry I woke you. Nothing to worry about.”

“Want to tell me about the nightmare?”

“
At this time of night? Nah. It was nothing.” He lowered himself back on his elbows, rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine. No problem. Just go back to sleep.” When he removed his hand from his face, it trembled.

“
You’re sure you’re all right?”

“
Yeah, fine. Just fine.”

“
And you don’t need anything?”

“
No. I’m really okay. Thanks for waking me. Now go back to sleep.”

“
All right, then. Goodnight.” She backed slowly away, more intrigued than ever by this strange man and the secrets that haunted his sleep.

Chapter Three

At dawn, the aroma of coffee and promise of biscuits aroused Leah just as Dylan knew it would. She ducked from the tent, pulling a red and black checkered flannel shirt down over her jeans, hair awry, a scarlet bed-crease highlighting one cheek. Even disheveled, she looked sexy.

“
Come and get it.” Dylan held an empty cup out to her.

To gain lost time while she ate, he packed their belongings back into the
Land Rover
. When she finished, he drove directly to the river.

“
Too bad we got behind schedule yesterday,” Leah said.

“
We’ll just have to make up for it today,” he assured her, accelerating over the wash-board road and taking the turns as quickly as he could without losing control of the vehicle.

The river’s roar reached his ears moments before he rounded a curve and it came into view, a massive surge of blue-green energy thundering with the force of a burst dam. Leah held her breath, her exhalation an explosion of awe with more than a hint of fear.

Dylan guided the
Land Rover
alongside the riverbank to a prearranged place, where it would be picked up later by his helper, Juan, and returned to Cuzco. He looked out at the roiling waters that cut between giant mimosas besieged by rope-like lianas. When he glanced over at Leah, her stunned expression recalled what he often took for granted-the jungle’s beauty. For a long time it had been his home, his job, even his escape from the rest of the world, but in his need to survive within its harsh reality, he had lost appreciation for its splendor. Her simple awe infused him with a renewed sense of admiration. He felt as though he was looking at a masterpiece, a Monet, and not the cheap imitation his life had become.

“
Did you know the Amazon is the largest river in the world? Big as the next eight largest rivers combined.” He unfolded from the SUV and she followed him out. Untying the raft secured to the
Land Rover’s
top, he hoisted it onto his back and carried it to the river’s edge.

Leah came up beside him. “Is that raft large enough to carry both of us and our supplies all the way to Iquitos?”

“It’ll have to do.”

She lent him a hand with their gear and turned her attention to the boxes of provisions they placed in the haul. “And that’s our entire rations?”

“Un-huh.”

“
I guess you know best.”

Her skepticism didn’t surprise him. She wasn’t used to living the stoic life the jungle demanded. He secured the life jackets under the seats and placed the extension hook on board. Her curious expression stopped him. “To fish anything we lose out of the water.”

“How can we afford to lose anything? It looks like we have little enough.” She set her backpack and duffel bag on the raft alongside a box of dried meat, shaved beans and freeze-dried vegetables. “So, does the Amazon get its name from its size?”

“
Actually the early Spanish explorers told tales of attacks by women warriors. So it was named Amazon after the legendary Greek women.”   

“
I hope I’m the only woman warrior we meet on this trip.” Leah pointed to what looked like a cloud of yellow butterflies exploding from a low hanging tree branch. “What are those?”

“
Epiphytes. Air plants. They attach to trees, or rocks. They live on nutrients in the air. You’ll see them everywhere we go in the jungle.”

“
Like California’s Bromeliads.”

“
This is where most of them come from,” he said while removing sleeping bags and mats from the
Land Rover.
“Along with Amazon fish and amphibians. Almost every kid in the States with a fresh water aquarium has an Amazon Angelfish or Neon Tetra.”

“
Yeah, I know. I had a tank once.” Leah patted a small outboard motor. “And what’s this for?”

“
We may need a portable motor in case of emergency.”

“
Why not use it to speed up our trip?”

Conservation must be a new concept to her. With her expensive wardrobe, she never needed to be a careful consumer. “This raft can only carry so much fuel. We need to be cautious with our supplies,” he explained patiently.

“I see.” 

On one of his many trips back and forth between the
Land Rover
and raft, Dylan passed Leah as she bent over to pick up a large sack of supplies. What a fine ass she had in tight jeans. He resisted the image of a toss with her in the tall grass by the river. His priorities made it impossible. If he wanted a woman, he’d choose one tougher, with few frills.

A week alone with a woman as tempting as Leah seemed more dangerous than any obstacle on the river. With her appeal, he had better watch himself and stick to his strict code concerning clients.

He held the raft’s side for Leah and after pushing off the bank, jumped in beside her. The craft hesitated before the current caught it and rushed them down river. Minor rapids pushed them forward at a steady pace.

“
What’s the first part of our trip going to be like?” she yelled over the river’s deafening howl.

“
Not too bad. Water from Lake Lauricocha feeds the river here and gravity will keep us moving until we come out of the mountains. Then we’ll pick up a motorboat. We’ll camp along the bank tonight and tomorrow we’ll sleep in a Machiguenga village.”

“
Okay, but-“ Rushing water drowned out her husky voice. Only the screech of a howler monkey rose above the roar of the river.

He glanced up to watch a howler troop swinging overhead from tree to tree. After all his time on the river, the antics of monkeys still amused him. With a large gesture, he pointed the simians out to Leah. She leaned over the raft’s side to keep them in view, while he handled the raft around a bend. The raft twitched over a couple of minor rapids, then streamed toward the confluence of the Maranon and Ucayali, the river called Solimoes in Portuguese, or Amazon, where the boom town of Iquitos lay.

Huge skirted mahogany trees, Sangre de Drago, and tall leafy eucalyptus lined the riverbanks where the river narrowed into a fast-running flow. Tree ferns canopied the shore. Occasionally a carved-out canoe with a couple or family would pass them by. Otherwise, flocks of kingfisher and stork, or the occasional toucan, were their only companions.

Intermittent cloudbursts sent rain pouring over them. Sprayed with droplets, Leah’s clothes clung to her and he had to consciously avert his eyes to keep from staring. Bounced about by the gushing water, they were thrown repeatedly against the raft’s side-walls. One jolt sent Leah spilling forward, so her leg touched his. Even after she had pulled away, the sweet memory of her thigh against his remained.

She braced herself with feet wedged under the forward seat and called, “Is it any calmer up ahead?

He pictured the gorge. “Is this too much for you?”

The raft lurched and she toppled, but checked her fall. “Not on your life.”

He didn’t believe her for a moment, but he had to admire her willingness to take a risk for something she believed in. He had long ago stopped believing in anyone or anything.

Once the churning water subsided a bit, Leah leaned back and eyed the white spume foaming along the water’s edge until a bump sent her sailing backwards with a yelp. He automatically reached out to steady her, but she brushed away his hand and straightened herself. 

Near noon, she motioned him to stop. He maneuvered the raft to a clearing on the bank, jumped into the river and tugged the vessel to shore. “Be careful getting out. There isn’t any
terra firma
.”

She grabbed her pack and, as she stepped out, the mud, slick as ice, swallowed her foot. She sprawled, limbs askew.

With his help, she quickly scrambled to sitting. When he was sure she was safe, he released a hearty laugh. “I told you to be careful.”

Her look shut him up.

Wet and muddy, she climbed up the bank and ran slim fingers through soggy hair, then wiped mud from her face with the back of a hand. “What a mess.”

“
First rule of the jungle: don’t step on anything until you’ve checked it out. Around here you can’t be sure anything is what it appears to be.”

She reached into her pack, removed a towel and began to towel-dry her hair. “Does that apply to you?”

“I’m the one exception.” He ignored her raised brow and began to rearrange the supplies that had been disrupted during the trip. When he glanced up, she headed in the direction of the tree line. “Where’re you going?”

“
I need a pit stop.”

Worried, he yelled at her back, “Head to the left of the tree-line. There’s a swampy area to the right. And watch your step. Don’t go too far.”

With her lack of experience, her soft, “Okay,” did little to reassure him. He patted the jungle knife sheathed in its belt case on his side.

After he had finished organizing the raft, he looked around for Leah, but saw no sign of her. What could possibly be keeping her so long? Minutes ticked away, bringing with them images of Leah sinking slowly into a puddle of quicksand or fending off a fierce jaguar. When he had given her all the private time he deemed necessary, he started toward the trees.

A few short steps and she emerged from the woods in one piece. Relief was quickly followed by irritation. “Where the hell have you been?”

Her eyes opened wide with surprise. “I found a chacruna plant.” She held out a leafy branch. “I heard the chacruna can be used to treat fire ant bites. I’ve seen it in photos, but never in the raw before.”

Concern immediately mutated into anger at her casual remark. He bit back angry words and purposefully blocked her path. “I can’t believe you wandered off on your own. Don’t you know how dangerous it is out there? This is the jungle, not an L.A. park. You could have gotten lost, or worse.”

“
But I’m fine. You really don’t need to worry about me.”

Out of the corner of his eye he noted a sudden movement. Only three or four yards from where Leah stood, a crocodile slowly slithered toward her. “Move
slowly
toward me,” he hissed under his breath.

She knitted her brows and began to look over her shoulder. “What the-”

He held up a hand. “Just do as I say. Now!”

She tentatively advanced toward him, still trying to see what was behind her, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the croc’s reach.

“What are you doing?” She glanced in the direction of his stare. “Oh!”

He fully expected her to panic, to scream or run, but instead she scooped up a branch lying at her feet and thrust it at the crocodile. The croc hesitated, vigilant through half-shut eyelids,  and seemed to consider whether to attack or retreat. Finally, it slid back toward the river.

“Coast clear.”

“
Quick thinking,” Dylan reluctantly admitted as he watched the croc’s retreat. It slowly submerged into the water.

With a hand on his arm, Leah turned him toward her. “I could say the same for you. You just saved my hide. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“I hope enough to heed my words. You’re tougher than I thought, but this is still a foreign world to you.”

“
It would be easier to hear you if you didn’t sound so pissed off.”

“
To tell the truth, I was more worried than angry,” he said gruffly. “It just comes out sounding the same. I’m responsible for your safety. I haven’t lost a client yet, and I’m not about to start now.”

Leah’s eyes softened with understanding. “Sorry.”

“Just don’t wander away again.”

“
I promise.” She made a cross over her heart like a child and he had to smile. Something about her touched a tender, long denied part of him.

“
Let’s head back to the boat. I’ll fix us something to eat before we move on.”

After a thrown-together meal of dried fruit and nuts, Dylan stood and stretched. “Time to go.”

Leah touched her damp hair. “I was hoping to dry off a bit more before we left.”

While he felt sorry for her, they had to push on if they planned to meet their connection. And she had to hang tough. “Don’t expect to be dry over the next week. Being damp is part of being on the river. Get used to it.”

“Then what’s it like at night?”

He rebalanced supplies on the raft. A nearby tree frog croaked out a sing-song melody. “Night on the river is no different from day, just colder. Up here, well, you have to adjust to the cold and wet. I hope you brought plenty of warm clothes.” He lifted her bag. “Seems like you have more than enough.”

“I brought plenty, but I hadn’t anticipated getting this soaked. Besides, half the weight of my bag is in medical supplies. I brought surgical masks and gloves and even hazmat suits. I wouldn’t get close to this virus without them.”

“
I thought you said the area was cleared and there was no active infection.”

“
I did, but I still wouldn’t take any chances. Better safe then sorry.”