The Treasure (8 page)

Okay. Get out of the plane before it rolled on them.

Good, she had a plan. Pushing herself up, Amelia began to carefully extract herself from her awkward position. First things first. Get herself out, and then pull Brody out the window.

Not wasting any time, she reached over Brody and gripped the window frame. With a tug, she pulled herself up and over his lap then out. She lost her balance, slipped, and fell on her back with a thud. Rain fell softly on her face, filtered through the canopy of trees overhead. Thunder boomed in the distance. For a moment she lay there, catching her breath and taking inventory of her aches and pains. She hurt, but nothing felt broken.

A loud
crack
brought her to her feet. With a gasp, she looked at the crumpled plane. It looked like an accordion. How on earth had they survived the landing?

The plane dropped. Instinctively, she jumped back, a hand going to her chest where her heart pounded like a drum. She had to get Brody out before the plane rolled on him.

She reached through the small side window and grabbed him by the shoulders. Then froze. What if he had broken bones? Moving him could do more damage and possibly risk his life. Especially if his back was injured.

Straightening, Amelia bit her lip. What should she do? She didn’t want to cause more injury, but she couldn’t leave him in the plane. It wasn’t sitting stable and if it rolled, it was going to roll right on top of him.

Well, she couldn’t let him die. Blinking raindrops out of her eyes, she leaned over Brody, fumbled for his seatbelt, and unbuckled it.

“Okay,” she murmured, girding herself for the task ahead. Brody was a big man. Packed solid with muscle. Getting him out the window — impossible.

There was no way Brody would fit through that window. He was too big. His shoulders too broad. Amelia looked at the gaping hole where the windshield had once been. That was the only way she could get him out.

Walking a few steps to look at the nose of the plane, smashed up against a tree, she grabbed onto a limb, used it for balance to climb up on the nose. Her foot slid on the wet surface, twisting her ankle, but she managed to stay on the plane. Carefully, she inched her way to the window and lowered to her knees so she could see inside. Luck was on her side. Brody wasn’t pinned. She should be able to pull him out.

When she saw him fully, her stomach dropped to her feet. A deep gash slashed his temple and blood trickled down his face. The sight of blood didn’t bother her — she’d seen enough of it on her many misadventures growing up — but seeing a big, tough man like Brody bleeding did.

Leaning in the window, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled. The muscles in her back clenched painfully as she tugged Brody’s heavy body out. His dead weight took all her strength to move him, but somehow she got him out the window. Momentum caught up with her and she tumbled backwards with the force of her last tug. They rolled off the plane and landed hard on the ground. Amelia grunted when Brody landed on top of her, still out cold. Gasping for air and exhausted, she rolled him off her. He hit the ground with a soft thud.

So, not the best rescue ever, but they were safely out of the plane and that was all that mattered. A minute later, she pushed to her feet, let out a groan when her body protested, and grabbed Brody by the shoulders. They weren’t safe at this distance. If the plane rolled toward them instead of the other way, it would crush them. Better safe than sorry. She dragged Brody’s limp body under a tree a few yards away, out of the danger zone. Then she hurried back to the plane to retrieve her bags and Brody’s pack.

She chose the easiest way in through the windshield and carefully climbed on all fours across the nose. Halfway there, the plane shifted violently. Amelia screamed and grabbed the window frame before she slid off. She scrambled inside and found their bags. With them looped over her shoulder, she climbed out the window and made her way carefully down the nose to the ground. The plane lurched sideways, she lost her balance. With a cry, she flew through the air and landed on the ground a few feet away.

Gasping for air, she lay there, staring at the canopy of trees above, rain falling softly on her face. It seemed surreal compared to the life-threatening, pulse-pounding drama she’d just been through. If her sisters ever found out she almost died in a plane crash, they would lock her in her room and throw away the key.

But she hadn’t died. Thanks to Brody, they had survived the landing in one piece. Battered, bleeding and shaken, but alive. She hadn’t even broken anything. A first for her. Usually she ended her misadventures with a broken bone.

The plane rolled over with the grind and crunch of metal, startling her into action. She hung their bags on a tree limb and knelt down beside Brody.

“Brody?” She gave him a small shake.

He groaned before opening his eyes. First, he looked at her, then at his plane. “Ah, hell,” he muttered. “My plane.”

Appalled, Amelia glared at him. “Your plane?” she said in disbelief. “We just crashed in the middle of the Amazon and all you think about is your precious
plane
?”

Thunder boomed in the distance, a promise that they had merely outrun the storm, but not escaped.

“Ass,” she said, rising to her feet and grabbing her bags, favoring her ankle.

Brody could just sit there and mourn the loss of his plane alone. She’d find her own way to
Paraíso
.

Intent on leaving him behind, Amelia started walking away, pushing tall leaves out of her way as she went.

“Amelia?” Brody’s voice carried through the jungle.

“No,” she called, without stopping or looking back. He wasn’t charming his way into her good graces, the beast.

“Will you stop, damn it?”

She heard Brody wince, then mutter a curse. She kept right on going, smacking giant-sized leaves out of her way.

“No,” she hollered back.

“You’re going the wrong way.” He hissed out a breath. “You’re as stubborn as your aunt was.”

A saw-toothed leaf slapped her in the face. Grumbling, she slapped it out of her way. She really didn’t like the jungle so far. What had drawn her aunt here time and time again?

“Adventure, Amelia,” she muttered.

A hand closed around her arm and jerked her around to face a furious, pale Brody. “Stop, will you?” he snapped. Blood seeped down the side of his face, his lips pinched into a thin line.

“You’re limping and bleeding. Let me take a look.”

She glared at him angrily. “
Now
you’re concerned?”

His expression turned impatient, a little frustrated, and somewhat contrite.

“I was concerned — damn it, we don’t have time for this. That storm is going to break soon and we need to find shelter. Things tend to flood here in the jungle and we can’t risk being washed away. So, if you’ll let this go, we can get moving.”

“You were concerned?” she said, unable to resist a smile.

Brody scowled. “Yes. Can we move this along now?”

Anger evaporated, Amelia nodded and jumped when thunder cracked overhead.

“Wait here,” Brody said.

Amelia waited while Brody checked over the plane. At first, she thought he mourned the loss, seeing if he could piece it back together, but when he motioned her over, she discovered she was wrong.

“We can camp out in the fuselage,” he said.

“The what?”

“Cargo area of the plane.”

“Are you sure it’s stable?”

Lightning cut across the sky. “Stable enough. Get in.”

With Brody’s help, she managed to climb in the plane. There was barely enough room to stand, but it sheltered them from the storm.

“I hung your bags on a tree,” she said over her shoulder.

“I’ll get them.”

Since the plane was tilted on its side, she had to sit on the curve of the wall. Brody climbed in, seconds later, with both their bags. He set them aside before dragging a piece of the damaged plane across the opening in the fuselage. His makeshift repair worked to keep the rain out.

In the darkness, Amelia carefully stowed her bags beneath the seat next to her. Brody moved around the cargo area and moments later a lantern lit up the tight space.

Although it was warm inside the plane, Amelia started shivering. She rubbed her arms and wondered why her heart beat so frantically. Her head began to ache along with the rest of her body.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes,” Brody said from where he sat across from her.

Amelia looked around. “Change here?”

“I’ll close my eyes. Then we’ll bandage that cut on your cheek.”

“What about the wound on your temple? It’s still bleeding.”

“I’m fine. I’m not going to keep my eyes closed for long so get moving.”

Amelia hurried to find a change of clothes. She settled for the first thing she found; jeans and a tank top. She hadn’t packed any warm clothes because she didn’t think she’d need them in the jungle. But now she wished she had.

After bumping the sides and roof of the plane a few times, she managed to shimmy into her clothes and hang her wet ones over the backs of the seats. Chilled, she sat back down. “You can open your eyes now. Why am I so cold?” she murmured, rubbing her arms again.

“Shock. Don’t you have anything warmer?”

Amelia shook her head. “I didn’t think I’d need them.”

With a scowl, Brody reached into his pack and tossed one of his shirts into her lap. Soft and worn, the fabric smelled like him, leather and the outdoors. Amelia slipped into it. The sleeves covered her hands so she rolled them until her fingers peeked out. Instead of buttoning it, she wrapped it around her and snuggled in.

“I don’t think I’m in shock,” she said. “I feel fine.”

Brody made a noncommittal sound before he fisted his shirt behind his head and tugged it off to reveal his bare chest.

Amelia stared at Brody’s muscled chest. The hard lines and ridges of his torso. All that tanned flesh …

“Let me see that cut.” Brody was suddenly beside her, her chin in his hand, turning her head toward him and the light. Heat from his body seeped into hers, his masculine scent wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

He dabbed her cheek with a gauze pad from the open first aid kit that sat on the floor beside him. “Not deep enough to need stitches,” he said, applying a bandage.

Amelia concentrated on Brody’s chin. She was afraid that if she met his eyes, the urge to kiss him would win out over her rational side. Especially when he paraded around half-naked. The desire to know what it would be like to be kissed, possessed, by a man like Brody overwhelmed her. She had a feeling he would stake his claim to a woman like he did everything else in his life.

“Does that hurt?” Brody asked, his eyes dropping to her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. Heat spread through her for another reason entirely.

Amelia shook her head, dislodging his hand. It wasn’t safe for him to touch her right now. Not when she wanted him to kiss her.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She met his eyes. “My ankle. I twisted it when I pulled you out of the plane.”

He scowled. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

But she hadn’t, and she was proud of herself for finding the courage to rescue him. She had always been the one being rescued, never the opposite. It was liberating.

“You shouldn’t take risks like that.”

Lost in his eyes, Amelia nodded, her body still shaking. She was in no hurry to do it again. One plane crash a lifetime was enough for her.

Brody reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, almost tender. So unlike the man. She turned slightly into his hand.

“Promise me you won’t risk your life for me again.” His gruff voice belied his soft touch.

Right now she’d promise him anything just to have him keep touching her like this. Well, almost anything. If his life needed saving she wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

Something dropped on the roof with a loud
thud.
Amelia jumped away from Brody. Breathing hard, she pressed a hand to her chest where her heart pounded like a drum. Lord, she couldn’t take many more scares tonight.

“Just a branch.” Brody slid back so that he leaned against the opposite wall. “Storm’s coming in.”

Rain pounded on top of the plane now. Thunder cracked. Amelia wished she were still in Brody’s arms. She would feel safe there because in this tin can she felt like a sitting duck waiting for the whole thing to tumble over and wash away.

Needing a distraction, she said, “I can bandage your wound.”

Brody shook his head, already doing it himself. “I got it.”

Resting her head back against the wall, Amelia let her lids drift closed, suddenly very tired. “I think I’ll just rest for a minute.” She closed her eyes. Silently, she prayed she made the right decision and that
Paraíso
really existed, because risking her life for nothing seemed more outrageous than following a map drawn by a woman her sisters insisted was crazy.

• • •

Brody tossed a bloody gauze pad aside and applied a bandage to his temple. Amelia had fallen asleep, her chin resting on her shoulder. Adrenaline crash.

Damn. His plane.
Rubbing his eyes, he tipped his head back. He didn’t want to think of the consequences. His plane was insured, but it would take time to replace her. Just the thought made his gut churn. He had bought the Cessna in his early twenties, when she was nothing more than a heap of metal and peeling paint. Over the years, he had fixed her up, a little at a time. His military career had kept him busy, out of the country more than he was in, but he had managed to turn her into a thing of beauty and he was damn proud of his work.

He loved this plane. Not only because he practically built her, but because she was the one constant in his life. Growing up a foster kid and always on the move in the military, he never had anything solid. That was why it was so easy for him to pick up and come down here with Jeremy. Nothing held him back.

Not only had he lost his plane, he lost the ability to charter the scientists into the jungle and pay off Jeremy’s debts. Which, since his friend had disappeared, were now
his
debts. Which meant he was in trouble. Big time.