The Pleasures of Winter (7 page)

The muslin sling, now damp and thin, was just not up to the job of holding Zeke’s injured arm securely. They needed to reinforce it, but with what? He ran a mental eye over all their gear. They had nothing that would give it the extra support it needed if Zeke was going to continue to walk.

Abbie gave Zeke a few mouthfuls of water and another slug of tequila. Her concern made her green eyes more brilliant than usual, and caused something to tighten in Jack’s chest. He wanted her to look at him like that.

For a brief moment, he allowed himself the luxury of a fantasy where Abbie was naked in his bed, staring up at him with those luminous eyes and he … He cut off that train of thought. The things he wanted to do to her would have her running away screaming. And writing about it on the front page of her paper. Sometimes the pleasure was not worth the price.

But he still couldn’t take his eyes off her, and when she brushed up against Zeke, he thought he could feel the caress of those nipples on his own skin.

That was it. ‘Abbie, take off your bra.’

‘What?’

The stunned expression on her face, the way shock caused her mouth to part, allowing him a glimpse of a tempting pink tongue, was an aphrodisiac in itself. Against his will, he felt himself harden.
Down, boy, this isn’t the time or the place.

‘Jack, what are you –?’ Kev was the one who protested. Then he caught sight of something in Jack’s face which silenced him.

‘Abbie’s bra is mostly elastic, right? We can jerry-rig it so it will reinforce the sling and hold Zeke’s arm more securely. He has to be able to walk. Let’s face it, he mightn’t be that heavy, but we can’t carry him all the way.’

Zeke grumbled but he didn’t protest. He was clearly close to his limit. If they had to, he and Kev could carry the older man, but that would leave Abbie trying to clear their path. Though she had offered, and she looked fit, she didn’t have the muscle mass needed to cut a path through the greenery.

When he was wrestling the plane down, Jack had seen lights on the edge of a lagoon. He had been fighting to keep the plane airborne and not paying a lot of attention to the ground, so he’d only had time for a quick glimpse, but he believed those lights were their best hope. It was too much to hope it would be a proper town, but once they reached any kind of settlement there would be some form of communication so they could call for help. He had no
idea how far away it was but calculated two or three days’ trekking. They could do that, he hoped, even with the dangerous lack of provisions and equipment. Kev was the only one who knew how dangerous their position was and agreed to say nothing to the other two for fear of freaking them out. Trekking to the lagoon depended on all four of them being fully mobile. Zeke had to be able to walk if they were to make it out of there.

‘Your bra, Abbie,’ Jack said. ‘We need it.’ He spoke calmly, but his voice left her in no doubt he meant it. They didn’t have time to deal with a lot of female fussing and arguing.

She looked from Jack to Zeke and back again. ‘Oh, very well,’ she said, surprising him, and awakening speculation that he would prefer to ignore. ‘But you’ll all have to turn your backs.’

He nodded. He would allow her that much. When he turned, the sound of rustling went on for far longer than he would have expected, and allowed his imagination to roam free. ‘Kevin, eyes front,’ she said sharply.

‘Spoilsport,’ Kev muttered. Jack decided that he was going to beat up his old friend soon. How dare he try to sneak a peek at Abbie? Then he imagined her nimble fingers unfastening button after button. The shirt sliding off her shoulders, exposing soft pale skin. The lacy bra underneath. Was it a front or a back fastener? Back, he decided, and visualized Abbie reaching behind to open it, the movement pushing her breasts forward as if they were begging for his touch. The bra opening, the straps falling down her arms, before Abbie removed the scrap of lingerie and finally revealed her breasts to his eager eyes. Each
one would be a round handful, trembling slightly with each breath she took, and tipped with pale pink nipples. They’d be soft when she took off the bra, but they would tighten up once they were exposed to the air, and to his eyes. She would stretch, put her arms back, making them rise up level with his mouth. He would –

His erection pressed against the front of his jeans.
Relax. Think of something else. Insects. Think of eating larvae.
That did it. By the time Abbie said, ‘Here it is,’ and handed her bra to him, he was in command of himself again.

The sight of the lacy pink garment she held out almost shattered his calm, and the slight trace of Abbie’s distinctive scent added to his problems.

‘Good girl,’ he said automatically. She gave him a look that would curdle milk, but he thought her breathing had deepened. God, he had to stop this.

‘Stop glaring,’ he told her. ‘You’ve got a face like a slapped arse when you do that.’

‘A WHAT?’ If anything her glare darkened and her eyes glittered dangerously.

Kev guffawed. ‘Don’t mind Jack. He’s got foot-in-mouth disease.’

Abbie moved to pull her bra back, but Jack snatched it out of her hand and turned to Zeke. He busied himself pulling the bra apart and using the elastic straps to reinforce the sling and immobilize Zeke’s arm.

‘Keep an eye on him,’ Jack ordered her. He picked up the knife and prepared to set off again.

‘You’re not the boss of me,’ Abbie said, but did what he told her.

That’s what you think, lady.
But he had sense enough not to say it out loud.

Abbie couldn’t believe what she had just said. She sounded about as mature as a ten-year-old. Actually, she believed the last time she had told someone they weren’t the boss of her was when she was in the fifth grade and Miffy was telling her she had to help her bake cupcakes for some fund-raising thing in her school.

Still, not for the first time, Abbie had to admit to herself that she was finding it oddly easy to let someone else take charge. Normally she was driven and focused. Apart from their engagement, which had been William’s idea, she was the one who took the initiative and made plans in their relationship. And yet here she was with no clue what was happening and, in all honesty, no pressing desire to find out. She was dirty and uncomfortable and hungry, but not worried. She had a completely irrational belief that Jack Winter knew what he was doing. Her feelings seesawed wildly between disgust with herself for not being more assertive, and a perturbed acceptance of her own compliance. When – if – they got back to civilization, she and Kit would have hours of fun analysing what it all meant. She could see now why people paid good money to go on wilderness adventures: you really did find out stuff about yourself.

They were silent as they slogged through the forest, battling the thick humid air and the heat as well as the dense undergrowth. It was taking all their effort to keep going. Jack and Kevin took turns hacking out a track and
bringing up the rear and she kept an eye on Zeke, helping him when he stumbled. No one had time or breath for more than random snatches of conversation.

With no conversation to distract them, the noise of the rainforest was astonishing: the constant whir and click of insects, the squawk and flutter of birds and the occasional roar of a jaguar. The first time they heard it, everyone tensed. ‘Calm down,’ Jack said. ‘It’s a jaguar. They almost never attack humans.’ Just as they relaxed, he added, ‘You are much more likely to get killed by a snake.’

It was impossible to judge distance in the jungle. Not only did they have to clear every foot of path before they could pass through it, they had to stop and try to shelter during the frequent downpours. Abbie’s shirt dried quickly once the rain stopped, but her jeans and boots were a soggy torture.

She was also tormented by an awareness that the eyes of all three men were magnetically drawn to her chest. Now that she was braless, her breasts moved with every step she took. And of course when it rained her shirt stuck to her like a second skin and her nipples protruded. She decided to pretend it wasn’t happening. It was the only way she could deal with it.

Finally Jack called a halt. Deep beneath the canopy of the forest, it was impossible to see the position of the sun in the sky, but she could detect a slight difference in the angle of the light. He said it was four thirty so they had about an hour before sunset.

Zeke was so spaced out she had to guide him down to a sitting position before checking him over. ‘Mostly exhaustion, I think,’ she told the other two.

‘Where did you learn that?’ Jack asked.

‘Peace corps. And yes, OK, I was a candy-striper.’ She felt herself flushing.

‘What’s that?’ Kevin asked. Jack looked just as confused.

‘If you don’t know, you don’t need to know,’ she said and refused to elaborate. She just wasn’t in the mood for the Florence Nightingale jokes if she told them she had done volunteer work in hospitals during high school and college.

She sat down under a tree, and realized that she must look nearly as bad as Zeke when neither Jack nor Kevin made any wisecracks.

‘Sit there and have a rest,’ Jack said. ‘I think I saw some berries that I recognize. I’ll pick some and we can have them for dessert.’

‘Oh gee, which would I rather, live larvae or juicy berries? Decisions, decisions,’ she said. But in spite of her jibe, she was relieved that he was being gentle with her. She closed her eyes and leaned back.

She allowed herself to drift. Kevin was starting to set up the camp for the night. He had unpacked the hammocks and was tying one end up to a tree. That was good – she couldn’t wait for another long, deep sleep. She heard Jack’s footsteps coming back and she stirred and yawned, stretching widely.

There was a movement beside her head. She opened her eyes, turned her head and found herself looking at the biggest set of snake fangs she had ever seen.

Jack’s brain hadn’t even processed the flash of brown when his body moved. The long snake was poised above Abbie in mid-strike when his stick hit it, knocking it sideways. It turned its attention from Abbie to him, whipping round so fast he didn’t have time to blink. The fangs were barely three feet away from him.

‘Jack!’ Abbie’s scream and movement distracted the snake for a vital fraction of a second. He hit it with the stick again. This time, he followed up by stepping forwards and standing on its head.

It thrashed and fought, nearly ten feet of muscle and viciousness. The skin was rough and the ridge along its back was sharp as a knife. One blow of its tail tore through his jeans and sliced his skin.

‘Kev. Knife.’ He barely got the words out while he fought. Then he had to take his attention off it for long enough to grab the knife Kev threw him. He fumbled the catch, but managed to get a grip before it fell. One solid downward plunge into the snake’s spine and it could only manage one last strike before it died. Jack panted and tried to drag air into his labouring lungs before straightening up.

‘Abbie, did it bite you?’

She shook her head, clearly too stunned to speak.

‘Man, what the fuck was that?’ Kev asked, coming over to examine the creature.

Jack took another look at it, hoping he was wrong, but he knew. Those reddish-brown triangular marks and the sharp ridge on its back were distinctive.

‘It’s a bushmaster. Largest venomous snake in the rainforest. Also known as a bull killer. One bite will kill in about ten minutes.’

Jack checked himself over for bites, but he knew he had escaped. If that monster had bitten him, he would be half-dead by now. No one walked away from a bushmaster bite. It was sheer chance that he had a stick when he came back to the camp. He had kept the stick he cut to reach the pokenoboy grapes so that Abbie could use it as a walking stick. If he hadn’t had it she would probably be dead by now.

He looked longingly at the last mouthful of tequila. This called for a drink, but Zeke needed it more. Besides, he preferred Black Bush.

Ignoring Abbie’s protests, he cooked the snake for their dinner. She was sufficiently recovered from the shock to ask if bushmasters weren’t an endangered species.

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘So they are. I do apologize. Next time a poisonous snake is about to take a bite out of you, I’ll let it.’ He picked up its head and showed her the vicious fangs. ‘This doesn’t bother you at all, of course.’

‘Reminds me of some of my relatives.’ Abbie shuddered, but managed a small smile. She even ate a few pokenoboy grapes for dessert.

By the time darkness was falling, his sweat had cooled and his heart rate had slowed, but he was still riding the adrenalin high. That was the closest he had come to death
in a long time. And it had been too damn close for Abbie. He shuddered again when he remembered the sight of the snake lunging for her arm. He doubted he would ever forget that.

He tucked her into the hammock beside him, determined to ignore her warmth and softness against his body, but the faint tremors that wracked her played havoc with his good intentions. He pulled her tightly to him. ‘It’s OK, baby. It’s over.’

He held her, rubbing her back gently, allowing her to recover from the fright in her own time. He ruthlessly clamped down on those impulses that made him want to distract and comfort her in a completely different way.

For what seemed like an eternity, she shook in his arms, her curves pressed against him, her scent teasing his nostrils. He wrestled his demons, the part of him that wanted to drag her underneath him and unleash a different kind of adrenalin high on her unprepared body.

Then she tipped him over the edge. Abbie put her arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. It was a light, fleeting kiss that even he recognized as thanks, but his inner beast didn’t care.

At the first brush of her lips against his, he took over, pulled her harder against him, and plundered her mouth. This wasn’t a gentle getting-to-know-you first kiss, it was possessive and raw. She had offered and, by god, he was going to take. He kissed her ravenously, unable to get enough of the taste of her.