liked it. “I can’t believe the effect you have on me. I-I mean this isn’t like me.” She waved a hand down to indicate their bodies.
Her surprise at her actions was so genuine. “It is the jungle that changes you.” He sat up slowly and looked away to hide a grimace. His head felt near to exploding. But he enjoyed her good mood too much to ruin it by showing weakness. Although her concern for his injuries and the attention he received because of them was tempting to exploit.
“What do you mean?” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Smooth hips that curved to a perfect fit for his hands.
“The jungle.” He stood as well and waved to indicate the trees. “It becomes part of you. If you stay too long, you will become wild and base. Same as it. Your reaction is response to its allure. To the freedom it represents.”
Her brows wrinkled and she glanced around at their surroundings. With a slight shake of her head, she bit her lip. “It’s not the jungle I find alluring.”
Making a firm decision to say no more, he walked toward the river. Her admission made it difficult to consider anything other than pressing her back onto the grass and spending the rest of the day showing her his desire.
After a moment, the sound of her footsteps followed. “Where do we go from here?”
It took a few minutes to determine where they had washed up. They had traveled a fair distance by foot, but almost double that in the swift currents. There was little choice on a path back. She was not going to like what he had to say.
“Myla, we have crossed Hounta lands twice and I do not plan to test our luck by doing so again. The river claimed my knife, so we no longer have a weapon.” He pointed to the high walls back the way they had come. “If we cross downstream and make our way back across the higher land, we can avoid their tribe.”
Her gaze followed the direction he indicated. “Whatever you say at this point. You’re the boss.”
“The boss?”
Her laughter filled the space around them. “Sorry.” She stooped down to grab her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “Boss is another word for leader.”
He liked it. “Then you trust me?”
There was a brief pause before she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. To avoid Hounta land, we will cross into territory that my tribe does not claim. We must travel over the land held by the men who wear that symbol.” He pointed to the mark on her shirt.
Her eyes widened, but surprisingly, she nodded with conviction. “Lead on.”
“I am the boss?”
“Yes.”
Her answer, said with such a lack of sincerity, made him laugh. “You will enjoy what lies ahead.” He reached a hand out, and after a moment, she took it with a tentative smile.
“I’m not sure I’ll find anything enjoyable at this point. Every portion of my body is screaming at me right now. Especially my feet. It’s a good bet my calluses have blisters.”
“Calluses?” He searched his memory. For all the hours his mother had required him to spend learning to read and telling him stories about her life, there was still much he had to learn.
“Yeah. It’s tough skin that develops when something rubs against your skin. In my case, my shoes.” He glanced at the contraptions on her feet while she explained. “You can also get them from overuse. Guitar players can even form them on their fingers from strumming the strings.”
Damon pushed aside a low branch and helped her over the uneven ground. “Why would you wear shoes if they cause pain?”
Her laughter scared a pair of maliki birds and they whistled shrilly in protest. She looked up, a soft gasp escaping. “What are those?”
“ Maliki . The one near the tree is the male. See the blue and orange colors on his back?” When she nodded, he continued, enjoying her curiosity. “The bright colors are to warn other birds that this is his home. He stays to protect the egg while the female brings back food.”
“They’re beautiful. I’ve
Her surprise at her actions was so genuine. “It is the jungle that changes you.” He sat up slowly and looked away to hide a grimace. His head felt near to exploding. But he enjoyed her good mood too much to ruin it by showing weakness. Although her concern for his injuries and the attention he received because of them was tempting to exploit.
“What do you mean?” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Smooth hips that curved to a perfect fit for his hands.
“The jungle.” He stood as well and waved to indicate the trees. “It becomes part of you. If you stay too long, you will become wild and base. Same as it. Your reaction is response to its allure. To the freedom it represents.”
Her brows wrinkled and she glanced around at their surroundings. With a slight shake of her head, she bit her lip. “It’s not the jungle I find alluring.”
Making a firm decision to say no more, he walked toward the river. Her admission made it difficult to consider anything other than pressing her back onto the grass and spending the rest of the day showing her his desire.
After a moment, the sound of her footsteps followed. “Where do we go from here?”
It took a few minutes to determine where they had washed up. They had traveled a fair distance by foot, but almost double that in the swift currents. There was little choice on a path back. She was not going to like what he had to say.
“Myla, we have crossed Hounta lands twice and I do not plan to test our luck by doing so again. The river claimed my knife, so we no longer have a weapon.” He pointed to the high walls back the way they had come. “If we cross downstream and make our way back across the higher land, we can avoid their tribe.”
Her gaze followed the direction he indicated. “Whatever you say at this point. You’re the boss.”
“The boss?”
Her laughter filled the space around them. “Sorry.” She stooped down to grab her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “Boss is another word for leader.”
He liked it. “Then you trust me?”
There was a brief pause before she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. To avoid Hounta land, we will cross into territory that my tribe does not claim. We must travel over the land held by the men who wear that symbol.” He pointed to the mark on her shirt.
Her eyes widened, but surprisingly, she nodded with conviction. “Lead on.”
“I am the boss?”
“Yes.”
Her answer, said with such a lack of sincerity, made him laugh. “You will enjoy what lies ahead.” He reached a hand out, and after a moment, she took it with a tentative smile.
“I’m not sure I’ll find anything enjoyable at this point. Every portion of my body is screaming at me right now. Especially my feet. It’s a good bet my calluses have blisters.”
“Calluses?” He searched his memory. For all the hours his mother had required him to spend learning to read and telling him stories about her life, there was still much he had to learn.
“Yeah. It’s tough skin that develops when something rubs against your skin. In my case, my shoes.” He glanced at the contraptions on her feet while she explained. “You can also get them from overuse. Guitar players can even form them on their fingers from strumming the strings.”
Damon pushed aside a low branch and helped her over the uneven ground. “Why would you wear shoes if they cause pain?”
Her laughter scared a pair of maliki birds and they whistled shrilly in protest. She looked up, a soft gasp escaping. “What are those?”
“ Maliki . The one near the tree is the male. See the blue and orange colors on his back?” When she nodded, he continued, enjoying her curiosity. “The bright colors are to warn other birds that this is his home. He stays to protect the egg while the female brings back food.”
“They’re beautiful. I’ve
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