Wild Rain by Christine Feehan Page B

settled again. “Bandits are common in these parts. All up and down the river. Not just here but nearly all the countries where the forest and river make it easier to disappear. Indochina, Malaysia, the Philippines, Thailand, all of them. This isn’t a unique situation, or even unexpected. Didn’t they warn you there was danger?” He kept his voice low, even. Nothing would betray the smoldering anger stirring in his belly. She didn’t belong to him. And she was never going to belong to him.
    “The odds seemed in our favor.”
    “I see it all the time. You should have stayed home, Rachael. You should have gone to the police.”
    “Not everyone has options, Rio. I did the best I could in the circumstances. I won’t stay here, just long enough to heal my leg.”
    “Do you think it’s going to happen overnight?”
    His voice was low, almost sensual it was so velvet soft, but she had to blink back tears. She brought danger with her whether he wanted to believe it or not. She wanted to think she could walk away, keep him safe, but she knew he was right. She didn’t want the reality of her life anymore. If she were desperate enough to dare the raging river, surely he could see she needed a space of time where she could pretend she was safe.
    The forest called to her, a dark sanctuary capable of hiding all kinds of secrets. Why not her? The foliage and creeper vines hid his entire home, cradled high in the branches of a tree. There had to be a way to disappear in the rain forest. “Rio, I know you’re here because you’re hiding from the world. Can’t you teach me how to live here? There has to be a place for me.”
    “I was born here. The forest is my home and it always will be. I can’t breathe in the city. I have no desire to live and work there. I don’t want television or movies. I go in, get my books and I’m a happy man. A woman like you can’t live here.”
    “Like me?” She turned the full power of her dark eyes on him. “A woman like me? What kind of woman am I, Rio? I’d like to hear your analysis because you use that term a lot. A woman like me.”
    Rio turned his head, amusement and even admiration welling up out of nowhere. There was a bite to her voice, a distinctly feminine challenge. She was sitting on his front porch wrapped in his shirt, her bare thigh pressed against his leg, an infection ravaging her body and the jungle creeping close, and she could still manage to act perfectly at home and even annoyed with him.
    At home with him. At ease, as if they had known one another for all time.
    A bird screeched a warning, high up in the canopy. Monkeys sounded a call for complete vigilance. Movement in the forest ceased. There was a sudden, unnatural silence. Only the rain fell steadily. Rio was on his feet instantly, moving back into the shadows, lifting his face to the wind, sniffing the air as if scenting for enemies. He snapped his fingers, crouching low as the two clouded leopards padded silently onto the verandah, coming quickly from the house as if summoned. One lifted its lip, bared its teeth in a silent snarl. Rio hunkered down, his movement slow and careful so as not to draw attention, circled both cat’s necks with his arms, his fingers massaging the fur as he whispered to them. When he stepped away, the two small leopards took to the trees.
    Rio lifted Rachael into his arms. Again his movements were unhurried, very slow. “Don’t make a sound. Not a sound, Rachael.” His lips were pressed against her ear, sending a small shiver down her spine. He moved with ease inside to place her back on the bed. Pressed as close as she was to his body, she felt him trembling, something moving against his skin, pushing against hers. It made her itch for a moment. His hands were gentle as he pulled the cover around her but she felt the tug of something sharp along her skin, as if something scratched her.
    Catching her face in his hands he stared into her eyes. “I need to know you know what