Midnight Rainbow by Linda Howard

bathroom, if you want to go before we turn in.”
    Jane stepped behind the tree. He was crude, he was rude, he was a little cruel—and he had saved her life. She didn’t know what to expect from him. No matter how rough he was, he would eventually disarm her with an unexpected act of kindness. On the other hand, when things were going smoothly between them, he would say things that stung, as if deliberately trying to start a quarrel.
    He was waiting for her by the opening of the tent. “I’ve already put the blanket down. Crawl in.”
    She knelt down and crawled into the small tent. He had spread the blanket over the floor, and she sat on it. He shoved their packs inside. “Put these out of the way,” he instructed. “I’m going to take a quick look around.”
    She shoved the packs into the far corners of the tent, then lay down on her back and stared tensely at the thin walls. The light was almost gone; only a glimmer entered through the translucent fabric. It wasn’t quite as dark outside yet, but the limbs he’d used as camouflage made it darker inside. The flap parted, and he crawled in, then zipped the opening shut.
    â€œTake your boots off and put them in the corner next to your feet.”
    Sitting up, she did as he said, then lay down again. Her eyes strained open so widely that they burned. Her body stiff with dread, she listened to him stretch and yawn and make himself comfortable.
    Moments later the silence became nearly as unbearableas the darkness. “A collapsible tent comes in handy, doesn’t it?” she blurted nervously. “What is it made out of?”
    â€œNylon,” he replied, yawning again. “It’s nearly indestructible.”
    â€œHow much does it weigh?”
    â€œThree pounds and eight ounces.”
    â€œIs it waterproof?”
    â€œYes, it’s waterproof.”
    â€œAnd bug proof?”
    â€œBug proof, too,” he muttered.
    â€œDo you think a jaguar could—”
    â€œLook, it’s jaguar proof, mildew proof, fire proof and snake proof. I personally guarantee you that it’s proof against everything except elephants, and I don’t think we’re going to be stomped on by an elephant in Costa Rica! Is there any other damned thing you’re worried about?” he exploded. “If not, why don’t you be quiet and let me get some sleep?”
    Jane lay tensely, and silence fell again. She clenched her fists in an effort to control her nervousness, listening to the growing cacophony of the jungle night. Monkeys howled and chattered; insects squeaked their calls; underbrush rustled. She was exhausted but she had no real hope of sleeping, at least not until dawn, and at dawn this devil beside her would want to start another day of marathon travel.
    He was totally silent in that unnerving way of his. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. The old fear began to rise in her chest, making her own breathing difficult. She might as well be alone, and that was the one thing she absolutely couldn’t bear.
    â€œWhere are you from?”
    He heaved a sigh. “Georgia.”
    That explained his drawl. She swallowed, trying to easethe constriction of her dry throat. If she could just keep him talking, then she wouldn’t feel so alone. She’d know he was there.
    â€œWhat part of Georgia?”
    â€œSouth. Ever hear of the Okefenokee?”
    â€œYes. It’s a swamp.”
    â€œI grew up in it. My folks own a farm just on the edge of it.” It had been a normal boyhood, except for the skills he’d learned automatically in the swamp, those skills, which had eventually changed his life by shaping him into something not quite human. He willed the memories away, pulling a mental shade down over them, isolating himself. There was no use in thinking about what had been.
    â€œAre you an only child?”
    â€œWhy all the questions?” he snapped, edgy at revealing any