Pleasure of a Dark Prince
Chapter 8
"I can't believe you would do this to me!"
He cast her an amused look. "Believe it," he said, savoring this victory, knowing he'd finally won a round - and it was decisive. "I'll do this and more. Show you all the mercy you showed me. You'll do whatever I tell you for the duration." He stepped back, his gaze raking over her body. "And right now, I'm telling you to strip for me."
Chapter 20
She froze, glaring up at him. "When I get that bow back, MacRieve, I'm going to use it to kill you."
"What's new there?" His gaze dropped to her lips. "For the last year, you've been exploding things at me and trying to end me."
"I've never tried to 'end' you before - as evidenced by the fact that you're still alive."
"What about the log truck? And the warehouse fire?"
One single flaming arrow plus a New Year's cache of fireworks equaled a whistling, popping, screeching inferno - that he'd been directly in the middle of.
He hadn't even brought up the Austrian incident: Regin, some shrieks, an avalanche, and a buried, pissed-off werewolf.
"Not to mention what you did to my quarters in Louisiana!"
She might have ordered "her subjects" to relocate the horses from the stable to his rooms. And possibly she'd cut all his more costly belongings in half, removing fifty percent of them. "What about your lies?" Lucia snapped. "Saying that I wasn't your mate!"
He didn't address that. "I've been patient with you, Lousha, forgiven any slights against me and my family. No more patience. I'm a different man now than I was then."
A darker, even more attractive man. Or beast. "Slights? If you wouldn't have stalked me - "
"Luckily, I did, so I could repeatedly save your pert arse."
"And yet I survived the previous millennium without your assistance!"
"I could have taken you from Val Hall that night of the vampire attack, away from the threat. Instead I stayed to save your sisters' lives. I did this for you."
She knew this!
"So I was a shade pissed that I'd made a sacrifice for you and you threw me over at the earliest opportunity. And there are a dozen more incidents when I've had to save you."
"Listen to you, talking about your good deeds!"
"I've got a few of them to speak of where you're concerned. And in the last few weeks, your foes have been increasing in number - "
"I swear it's like you believe your deeds are credits, and if you do enough or remind me enough, then you can buy me."
"No' buy you. Earn you. That's the Lykae in me. Could no' turn that off if I tried. Deep down I believe that if I show you I'm a good protector and provider, you'll surrender to me. You'll want me in turn."
"But I don't want you. I couldn't have made it clearer over the last year. There's playing hard to get, and then there's take a freaking hint! When you followed me, you brought all this on yourself." They were toe-to-toe, breathing heavily, and she was uncaring of the consequences.
"Doona want me?" His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Ah, lass, do you really want me to make a liar out of you?"
He was about to kiss her, and gods help her, she feared she wanted him to -
A knock on the door. From just outside the cabin, a male said, "Dr. MacRieve," interrupting her swan dive toward disaster.
The Scot mouthed, "Dr. MacRieve?" with a wolfy grin. For the first time his eyes warmed.
She wanted to die!
"That pleases me, Lousha."
"I didn't do it," she hissed. "Nïx did."
"O' course."
At the door, she called, "Um, yes?"
"Charlie here, ma'am. I'm the deckhand." He sounded young, with a light Brazilian accent. "Just wanted to tell you that the meet-and-greet starts now. The other docs are making their way to the salon."
MacRieve murmured, "Tell me this isn't a research vessel."
"What of it?"
With a scheming look, he said, "And you're pretending to be one of them."
More knocking. "Uh, Dr. MacRieve? Can I tell Capitão you're coming up?"
Before she could stop him, MacRieve opened the door. Standing there was "Charlie," a clearly startled young man.
"The wife and I will be up in ten minutes."
"Uh, yes, aprecivel - "
As she gaped, MacRieve shoved the door closed in his face. "Lousha," he began in a low threatening tone, "no more dallying. Take off your clothes. Now."
"I'm going to kill you, MacRieve!" she said under her breath. "Introducing us as married?"
"It'll happen soon enough." Though matehood was as good as forever for his kind, the Valkyrie preferred some kind of binding ceremony - Annika had backed down from her hostility a grudging inch once Lachlain had agreed to give Emma one.
So Garreth had decided he would marry Lucia, wouldn't rest until she saw their union as eternal. "Mark my words."
"I can't tell you how wrong you are about that," she said in a strange tone.
"Would they no' wonder why we share a last name? Thank your sister Nïx for that."
"You could have told them we were siblings!"
"Like they'd believe that! When you're always seducing me with your eyes."
"I'm not - I never!"
Ignoring her protests, he leaned back on the bed, hands folded under his head. The bow case lay by his side - he all but dared her to try to take it again. "Lousha, you canna go to the meeting sopping wet, now, can you?"
Her eyes darted as she so clearly weighed her options. That she was even considering stripping told him that she did in fact have some serious shite going on down here.
Garreth had figured she was here on some quest - they were common enough in the Lore. Plus, he still remembered her whispering to her sister in Val Hall about locating some mystery item.
Did he need to know what business she had? Absolutely. And the fact that it was here in the Green Hell made him wary. But with Lucia he'd learned to let information unfold - eventually he'd get his way and discover everything. "You want this back" - he smugly patted the case - "then take off your clothes."
Flashing dark eyes promised retribution. "I'll get you back for this."
"You already have, Archer. The shirt's coming off for the logs. You broke my leg that time. Have you ever tried to swim in rapids with a compound fracture? The pants are for shooting a flaming arrow into that fireworks warehouse - while I was in it."
"That wasn't my idea, that was Reg - "
"Ah-ah, I'm no' finished. The bra is for shooting no' one but two MacRieves."
"What are you talking about?"
"Already forgotten that you shot my brother?"
"While trying to rescue Emma from his castle. And only through his arm, and only because he kidnapped my niece!"
"To make her his queen."
"We had no idea that it could possibly work out between them at the time."
He shrugged. "And the panties are for that first night I almost claimed you. When you left my bollocks so blue, they still have no' been set to rights."
A deep blush stole across her cheekbones. "You're not blameless in this. I wouldn't have continually attacked you if you hadn't stalked me. And I'll remind you yet again, you lied to me!"
"I did lie," he said simply. "I dinna want to spook you. But you ran anyway. Why, Lousha? Why run from me?" The question maddened him. At every turn, she appeared attracted to him. He'd scented her interest on more than one occasion. Yet she still fled, still fought, and always swore she wanted nothing to do with him.
"I - didn't - run! You know what? Keep the bow!"
"That's no' all I have over you. You will no' tell me what you're doing on this boat, but I ken that it's important to you and that you're posing as a human. If you doona want me to reveal what you are - "
"You wouldn't! You know how you'd be punished."
"You want your bow? Your cover kept?" Why am I pushing her like this? Probably because he was still riled over her stunts. Because swimming with a femoral fracture truly was unimaginably painful, and he'd vowed to get revenge.
But mainly because he wanted to behold his mate. He was a male, and a primitive one at heart - he simply wanted to ogle the female Fate had chosen for him. "You're stalling, Valkyrie. We're both adults, and you're in no way modest about anything else."
"Maybe I don't want to get jumped as soon as I strip."
"I vow to give you a reprieve. At least until after your meeting."
"You know what? I'll do it. Just to show you what you'll never have." With a glare, she dug into her pack, snatching out a change of clothes - a pair of plain beige pants, but she'd unerringly chosen a red halter top and red underwear.
"Red," he breathed. The color was an attractant to Lykae males, more so for mated ones. And this lingerie was especially pleasing. There was a ribbon on the back of the panties clearly made for a man's eyes. He imagined fingering it as he put her on her hands and knees. He'd slowly peel the panties down her thighs, just far enough that he could spread her legs and enter her.
She turned to take off her shirt, pulling it over her head. When she removed her bra and reached for the dry one, he caught a glimpse of one of her lush breasts and a dusky rose nipple.
How many times had he ejaculated in his hand, imagining those big breasts? How many times had he come with his teeth gritted with frustration because he was squeezing his cock instead of kneading those mounds of creamy flesh...?
Though his Lucia wasn't shy, she acted discomfited sometimes, behaving in ways contrary to what he'd expect. Not modest in any way yet still shy. She was like that now. Acting as if this were killing her. When in fact, he could tell she was becoming aroused. Her breaths had grown shallow. Her eyes flickered silver. He wondered if she knew that.
She removed her underwear, revealing her taut, work-of-art arse, and all thought fled his brain for long moments. "Gods almighty," he finally breathed, making her shoulders stiffen. "Never seen your arse before. And never seen the likes of it in a thousand years."
He clenched his fists, reminding himself of his ill-advised vow not to jump her. But damn, he needed to cup her there, spank her, nip her. Any way he could touch those generous curves.
She tugged on the lingerie far too fast for his liking, then donned her pants and shirt. Facing him, she said, "There. Are you happy?"
His voice rough, he said, "If happy means hard as stone and heavy in the bollocks, then aye."
With a glare, she started for the door. He shot to his feet, stomping into his boots, then slinging her bow case over his shoulder to follow her.
"You can't go!" Her expression was aghast.
"I go where you go."
"But your eyes are turning when you look at me!"
He shrugged. "You affect me." Understatement. He wanted to shove his face into her satiny hair and breathe in deep. He wanted to lick her nipples and know her taste -
"The mortals will see! You have to stay here. Our deal was that you wouldn't blow my cover!"
He snagged sunglasses from his pack. "No' a problem."
"And what about... that?" She delicately pointed to his erection.
He made a big show of tucking his shaft straight up behind the waist of his jeans. She looked stunned to have seen the head of his cock before he pulled his shirt down. "Ah, lass, you've seen it before. Had your hands all over it."
She was still gaping when he possessively clasped her nape and escorted her from the cabin. He followed the scent of humans to the meeting room.
By the time they reached it, she was still steaming mad. But he had leverage over her now, and he wouldn't be shy about using it. She didn't want to be discovered; he'd threatened to expose her. He'd be ruthless to have her. As ruthless as she'd proved to be to him.
At the door, she hissed, "This isn't finished."
"Been telling myself that for a year." He turned her, capturing her in his arms. She beat his chest with considerable strength, but he didn't budge. "You know when you've been nicest to me? Whenever I was taking kisses from you, demanding them as my due. Then you melted for me." He cupped her face, brought her to him, slanting his lips over hers.
After moments of hesitation, she melted, just as he'd remembered. He savored fleeting strokes of their tongues before he somehow broke away. "A taste of what's to come tonight. Because I will have you." Let her get used to the idea.
He opened the door, entering before her to sweep a cautious glance around the room. Inside stood two middle-aged men, clearly scientists.
Meet-and-greet with tight-arsed geeks? The things he did for his female.
Chapter 21
Still flustered, with her lips bruised from MacRieve's kiss, Lucia entered the room; the two mortal males inside gazed at her with open appreciation. She checked the braids over her ears, uncomfortable with their scrutiny.
The pair - a tall middle-aged man with a genial smile and pallid skin and a younger one sporting a cowlick and thick glasses - looked like they wanted to introduce themselves, but MacRieve's aggressive demeanor and dark sunglasses probably put them off.
After unswervingly steering her to this room as if he knew the layout of the ship, he'd demonstrated conclusively that she had no willpower with him. She'd been right to run for the last twelve months, right to strike against him. She would again, but first she had to get her bow back. Before she did something stupid....
The spacious salon had faded maps posted all along the walls and crates of scientific equipment that hadn't yet been unpacked into the adjoining lab. Some chairs were lined up in a U shape with a stool up front and center. A wheezing window-unit air conditioner chugged out cool drafts and the aroma of mold.
The two broad windows were fogged with condensation and draped with embroidered curtains. The bright and cheery material matched the tablecloth at the coffeepot station.
Once she took a seat, MacRieve dropped the long length of his body into one beside it. Determined to ignore him, she gazed around, her attention settling on a sheet posted above the coffeepot. Under a lovingly hand-drawn collage of jungle animals there was a list in calligraphy script:
Fast Facts About the Amazon!
The Amazon River holds 20 % of the world's freshwater. At no point is it crossed by a bridge. The river is wider at the mouth than the entire length of the Thames River. The Amazon Basin is 2.6 million square miles, almost as large as the United States.
The water depth fluctuates 40 feet between the December-to-May high-water season and the June-to-November low-water season. The entire geography of the basin is altered every six months. Tributaries appear and disappear each year.
A 30-40 % loss of rain forest will create a reduction in rainfall, starting a globe-killing cycle that can never be reversed. 16 % of the Amazon is already gone forever....
Tributaries appear and disappear? They were just going into the rainy season. Even in the unlikely case that she found a map to the legendary Rio Labyrinto, how accurate would it be if the waterways were ever changing?
Just as she finished reading, a tall stranger entered. With his inky black hair, jade green eyes, and bronze skin, the man was model handsome, looking plucked from the pages of Latin GQ. "Is this seat taken, querida?" he said, sweeping an admiring glance over her.
MacRieve growled low in his throat. Sensing the Lykae was about to attack the new male, she furtively pinched his arm, until she was certain blood welled under his skin.
He was undeterred. With a killing look, MacRieve crossed his arms, leaning back and kicking a dirty boot up atop the chair in question. "It's taken now."
The man narrowed his eyes as if he might protest, but eventually he chose another chair on the other side of the room.
Shortly after, Captain Travis swaggered inside, with a fuming mug of "coffee" in his hand and a pretty young woman behind him. Without preamble, he began, "As you know, I'm Wyatt Travis, your captain."
Our drunken, money-grubbing captain. Who'd refused to help a damsel in obvious distress. Not that he could've done anything.
He negligently sat on the stool up front. He might not be as tall as MacRieve - few were - but he was big, like a former NFL player. The love of liquor must have been a recent development, since he was still built like a seasoned athlete. "And the Contessa's my ship. One hundred and eight feet long, she's a light draft, draws only five feet. Lets us get deep into the jungle." He pointed toward the back of the room at a wall-sized map of the river and all its known tributaries. They resembled veins - a rain forest circulatory system. "I'll keep that map updated with our whereabouts." Push-pins had left holes throughout, until the paper was missing in places. The Contessa, it seemed, had been just about everywhere in the basin, and she'd been there many times over.
Travis paused for a deep drink from his mug, so she took the opportunity to glance at MacRieve from under a lock of her hair.
He looked suspicious and aggressive, so different from the man she'd first known. He was harder now, darker. Because of me. Her lips were still tender from his harsh, demanding kiss - a constant reminder of what he planned to do with her this evening.
He's going to try to have sex with me. Realization fully hit her. This very night.
How was she supposed to sit through this meeting, knowing what would befall her when they returned? She was on edge and knew he could sense her tension - because she could sense his as well.
And what would she do when he tried to? Earlier, as she'd removed her clothes, the look in his eyes had been delighted, as if he were unwrapping the best gift he could possibly conceive of.
Surprisingly, she'd responded, finding it... erotic to strip at his command. Maybe she was a closet submissive - who'd needed to dominate every opponent over a thousand years. All except for MacRieve? Am I delirious?
"We're heading south toward the very end of the Amazon proper," Travis continued, "then turning off on the San Miguel tributary to some of the most remote parts of the basin. We'll motor all night until the river gets tight." Another swig for the thirsty captain. "Since we're going deeper into virgin territory, this trip lent itself to several different disciplines. Everybody here's in different fields, so there's no direct competition."
He made a negligent hand motion toward the young woman beside him. "This is my cook."
Of middling height, with soulful hazel eyes, the female looked to be all of nineteen. "Hi, I'm Izabel Carlotta Ambos," she said with a confident wave. Izabel was comely, though she wore a shapeless shirt and baggy cargo pants, cinched tight with a belt. "I'll be preparing your meals. My bife a cavalo is deliciosa, and if you keep the kitchen stocked with fish, I'll keep fresh feasts on the table."
MacRieve perked up at that.
"Some of you have met my twin, Charlie. He's the deckhand." Same Brazilian accent as her brother, same hazel eyes.
Izabel smiled at her, and Lucia gave a pained smile in return. Oh, no, not the we're the only two females on a ship of males bonding bit. She had no need for additional "pals." Especially not short-term human ones.
Besides, there was something off about her that Lucia couldn't put her finger on. Perhaps Izabel had Lorean in her, somewhere far back in her family line. Or maybe she was completely human, but with a curse hanging over her. Something was amiss.
"Yeah, that's right," the captain said. "Chuck is my right-hand man. You'll meet him later." Another draw from his mug. "Chuck and Izabel are new to the Contessa - so this trip is the last one of a long trial period. Drop me a dime if they screw up." The captain seemed to have a cosmic inability to call Charlie anything but Chuck. "Now, some of you are already acquainted, but it's customary on this ship to do a round of intros. Tell us who you are, what you study, and why you're here."
The pale man said, "I guess I'll start" - his accent was east coast, upper crust - "I'm Benjamin Rossiter, an M.D. and professor of chemoecology at Cornell. I'll be looking for uncataloged plants in the hope of discovering pharmaceutical uses." Though his manner was relaxed, he had dark circles under his blue eyes and sweat had beaded above his upper lip. "We've only identified one percent of the medicinal plants in the basin, yet that one percent accounts for twenty-five percent of all our pharmaceuticals. The potential is nearly inconceivable." He held up a palm, casting them a half grin. "And I'll stop myself there, so I don't make your eyes glaze over." The guy looks moneyed. So what's he doing on a tub like this?
The darkly handsome man spoke next. "I'm Marcos Damiãno, head of the department of social anthropology at the University of São Paulo."
If Lucia had suspected Izabel had some connection to the Lore, she was certain Damiãno did.
"My specialization is indigenous shamanism, and I'm here to search for uncontacted tribes."
MacRieve still had his arms crossed over his chest. "If they're uncontacted, do they no' want to stay that way?"
Lucia jabbed her elbow at him, and he grunted.
Damiãno gave a tight smile that didn't reach his vivid green eyes. "Several large oil companies are bidding on these remote territories, falsely claiming they're unoccupied, so any tribes there will certainly be contacted regardless. My aim for this expedition is to get photos of them from a distance and prove their existence, which would halt all oil exploration on their lands." He waved to the cowlick guy beside him. "Dr. Schecter?"
"Right, right, I'm Dr. Clarence Schecter, a zoologist from UC San Diego." He removed his glasses, polishing them with his shirttail. "My area of study is unculled species of reptiles."
Rossiter raised a brow. "Unculled?"
"Yes, when men hunt, they pick off the largest of the species. Over time, the pool becomes smaller. So the deeper into the jungle we get, the more chance there is of spotting larger-than-normal river specimens."
With all their talk of going deep into the jungle, Lucia might not have to dump them as early as she'd thought.
MacRieve scoffed. "What do you mean 'larger than normal?' Normal out here is no' exactly small." MacRieve had said he'd hoped never to come back here. How long had he been in the basin before? And why?
The captain agreed. "I see giant animals every day. Tarantulas with meaty bodies the size of dinner plates. Foot-long scorpions. Twenty-foot-long gators. Giant otters and even catfish'll stretch nine feet."
"And by gator," Dr. Schecter said in a patronizing tone, "I assume you mean the South American crocodilian species called the caiman?"
At Travis's shrug, Schecter said, "That's the thing. In other areas, we have fossil records of caimans reaching forty feet long. But they've been overhunted. Now, once we gain enough distance from civilization, and with the sonic baiting techniques I'll utilize, I'll be able to document primordial specimens."
MacRieve coughed the word, "Sonic" just as Rossiter made a sound of realization.
"Megafauna," the man said. "You're searching for megs! If you're a cryptozoologist, just admit it and take your ribbing."
Cryptozoology - the study of creatures from "myth." They're in a room with at least two cryptids. And they don't even know it.
"Me? I'm not a cryptozoologist!" Schecter flushed red. "Otherwise I'd be aboard the Barão da Borracha."
As Rossiter groaned, Travis's expression turned chilling, while Izabel studied her captain's sudden change in demeanor.
"Wait - what was that?" Lucia asked. Nïx had said, Beware of the barão da borracha. The Rubber Baron wasn't a person but a ship? "Why do you say that?"
Schecter answered, "The Barão is filled to the bevels with cryzos. You know, cryptozoologists. Captain Malaqu takes them hunting in the jungle for 'demons' and 'shape-shifters' in backwater tributaries." He added, "I've heard passengers go out with Malaqu. But sometimes... they don't come back."
Lucia waited for Travis to naysay that, to call it a baseless rumor. Instead he drank deep.
She asked the captain, "Is that ship close by?"
"Headed north in the opposite direction," Travis said tightly. He added in a mumble, "As I like it."
Izabel canted her head at Travis, and her thick black braid swept off her shoulder. The young woman clearly carried a torch for the much older, and remarkably less sober, captain. Good luck with the male specimen you've got there, Izabel. P.S.: This ship has been over-culled.
"Where're they searching for demons?" MacRieve asked. "Which tributary?"
Schecter answered, "My guide in Iquitos told me Rio Labyrinto, or some such."
At that mention, Lucia tensed and of course MacRieve noticed. He put his callused hand on her back. It was warm against her, even through her shirt.
"That's nothing but a hokey legend," the captain muttered into his cup. And for a second, Lucia thought he was lying.
Schecter said, "Well, likely so. But I'd taken all that information with a grain of salt since the guide also told me that they were loading a coffin onto the ship!"
Now both Lucia and MacRieve tensed. A vampire? What would a leech possibly be doing out here? For some reason she thought of Lothaire. He'd been making power plays throughout the Lore for the last year -
"Your turn, Dr...." Schecter asked her, trailing off.
"What? Me? I'm Dr. MacRieve." She grated out the last word, and the werewolf's lip curled. "From LSU."
Damn it, what would Nïx have said was her field? She glanced at Travis. "And I'm a..."
He frowned. "Paleopathologist?"
Paleo what? Damn you, Nïx!
Now Dr. Rossiter frowned. "Paleo? How will you find a fossil record in a live river basin?"
"I would love to tell you, but it's a trade secret," she said with a forced smile.
"At least tell us what diseases you are studying as a pathologist," Damiãno said.
"If Dr. Rossiter feared he'd make your eyes glaze over, I could put you to sleep."
Schecter turned to MacRieve. "And what is your field, Dr...?"
Despite the fact that he was a prince, he answered, "Mr. MacRieve. I'm here in a security capacity for my wife. She's the beauty and brains - I'm the brawn."
She stiffened again at his calling her his wife. MacRieve had no idea how much that word bothered her.
Schecter asked, "Why exactly would anyone need security?"
"Are you jesting?" MacRieve asked. "You doona know?" He flashed an aggravated look at Travis, then said simply, "Because we're in the bluidy Amazon."
Chapter 22
The sun had begun to set, filling Lucia with more anxiety. She couldn't remember the last time she'd dreaded nightfall more. And she'd warred with vampires!
She repeatedly debated her options. One idea she'd ruled out? Telling MacRieve the truth. If she revealed to him precisely why they couldn't have sex ever, much less tonight, he would no doubt tell her she could live without the archery - because he would protect her.
And if he used that reasoning with her, she thought she could hate him.
Once the meeting was over, Izabel brought in a tub of iced-down Iquiteña beer for "the doctors." When she set the tub down, her blouse gaped, and Travis's eyes were on her like a hawk. Then he scowled at the glimpse of her exposed bra. A scowl? Most men would be delighted.
With an inward shrug - who could understand the minds of mortals? - Lucia crossed to the salon entrance. As she reached for the knob, she noticed that the door was thick, with a security barricade that could be slammed in place. A rain forest panic room? Interesting...
Once she walked outside, she stopped at the closest rail, nearly gasping at the oppressive heat after being in the air-conditioned room.
MacRieve snagged a bottle of beer, then followed her out, standing next to her at the railing. He held the bottle with his forefinger curled around the neck. Which was so... male. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, stowing his sunglasses in a pocket.
"Back to my cabin."
"Happy to escort you there." He took a swig, placing his free hand on her lower back.
Dead man walking? Try dead Valkyrie walking. Every step closer was grueling. She was breathless, filled with trepidation. Why hadn't she been able to deny him in the past? Part of her whispered, It's not him you can't deny - it's yourself.
She was going to have to strike against him yet again. But how? How to get her bow? And then get him off the boat?
Silence reigned between MacRieve and her, while all around them the rain forest was awakening. Frogs croaked, building to a deafening crescendo before dwindling to silence, then building once more. Insects whirred and chirped, howler monkeys screeching.
MacRieve took another swig of beer. "Never met so many scientists who needed to get laid."
Unable to help herself, she asked, "What are you talking about?"
He stopped, leaning in, forcing her back to the wall. He rested his free hand against it over her head. "Looks like we're going deep. Gotta get deep up the river. Really penetrate the virgin bush, over and over again, till we achieve our mutual aims."
When he grinned, she stared at his lips. Then at his eyes, at those laugh lines. As ever, she was captivated by this big, brawny male and curious about his past. Just from looking at him, she could tell he'd been in the sun laughing in the days before he'd been frozen forever into his immortality.
Another swig. Was he waiting to finish his beer before bringing her to the cabin, or just enjoying the sunset? "Those docs got more bollocks than sense. They have no idea how dicey it is out here."
"How do you know so much about the Amazon?"
"Unfortunately, I'm verra familiar with the Green Hell." He appeared to have mellowed somewhat, though he still seemed preoccupied. "When the clan wanted to leave Scotland, the Amazon basin was one of the proposed settlement options. Lots of room to run, and no humans for thousands of miles in some areas. It sounded perfect."
"But it wasn't?"
"I got down here and learned that the Amazon can even kill immortals. She does no' care which lives she takes and is strong enough to pluck any she chooses." He met her gaze. "It can be lethal - even for us." His brows drew together, as if at some memory.
Had he lost a loved one? Or a lover? A flare of jealousy startled her. Had he kissed another under this very sky? Her gaze fell to his lips.
"You're doing it again, Lousha."
"What?"
"Looking like you want me to kiss you."
She flushed. Was she that transparent? "Dream on, werewolf."
"I do, constantly."
Hastily returning to the subject, she asked, "Did you lose someone in your party down here?"
"Nay, I came alone." At her questioning glance, he said, "A type of penance, I guess. It's a moot point now...." He trailed off, his gaze leaving her face to scan the river. His body tensed around hers, his face hardened, and his irises flickered pale blue.
He cast her an amused look. "Believe it," he said, savoring this victory, knowing he'd finally won a round - and it was decisive. "I'll do this and more. Show you all the mercy you showed me. You'll do whatever I tell you for the duration." He stepped back, his gaze raking over her body. "And right now, I'm telling you to strip for me."
Chapter 20
She froze, glaring up at him. "When I get that bow back, MacRieve, I'm going to use it to kill you."
"What's new there?" His gaze dropped to her lips. "For the last year, you've been exploding things at me and trying to end me."
"I've never tried to 'end' you before - as evidenced by the fact that you're still alive."
"What about the log truck? And the warehouse fire?"
One single flaming arrow plus a New Year's cache of fireworks equaled a whistling, popping, screeching inferno - that he'd been directly in the middle of.
He hadn't even brought up the Austrian incident: Regin, some shrieks, an avalanche, and a buried, pissed-off werewolf.
"Not to mention what you did to my quarters in Louisiana!"
She might have ordered "her subjects" to relocate the horses from the stable to his rooms. And possibly she'd cut all his more costly belongings in half, removing fifty percent of them. "What about your lies?" Lucia snapped. "Saying that I wasn't your mate!"
He didn't address that. "I've been patient with you, Lousha, forgiven any slights against me and my family. No more patience. I'm a different man now than I was then."
A darker, even more attractive man. Or beast. "Slights? If you wouldn't have stalked me - "
"Luckily, I did, so I could repeatedly save your pert arse."
"And yet I survived the previous millennium without your assistance!"
"I could have taken you from Val Hall that night of the vampire attack, away from the threat. Instead I stayed to save your sisters' lives. I did this for you."
She knew this!
"So I was a shade pissed that I'd made a sacrifice for you and you threw me over at the earliest opportunity. And there are a dozen more incidents when I've had to save you."
"Listen to you, talking about your good deeds!"
"I've got a few of them to speak of where you're concerned. And in the last few weeks, your foes have been increasing in number - "
"I swear it's like you believe your deeds are credits, and if you do enough or remind me enough, then you can buy me."
"No' buy you. Earn you. That's the Lykae in me. Could no' turn that off if I tried. Deep down I believe that if I show you I'm a good protector and provider, you'll surrender to me. You'll want me in turn."
"But I don't want you. I couldn't have made it clearer over the last year. There's playing hard to get, and then there's take a freaking hint! When you followed me, you brought all this on yourself." They were toe-to-toe, breathing heavily, and she was uncaring of the consequences.
"Doona want me?" His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Ah, lass, do you really want me to make a liar out of you?"
He was about to kiss her, and gods help her, she feared she wanted him to -
A knock on the door. From just outside the cabin, a male said, "Dr. MacRieve," interrupting her swan dive toward disaster.
The Scot mouthed, "Dr. MacRieve?" with a wolfy grin. For the first time his eyes warmed.
She wanted to die!
"That pleases me, Lousha."
"I didn't do it," she hissed. "Nïx did."
"O' course."
At the door, she called, "Um, yes?"
"Charlie here, ma'am. I'm the deckhand." He sounded young, with a light Brazilian accent. "Just wanted to tell you that the meet-and-greet starts now. The other docs are making their way to the salon."
MacRieve murmured, "Tell me this isn't a research vessel."
"What of it?"
With a scheming look, he said, "And you're pretending to be one of them."
More knocking. "Uh, Dr. MacRieve? Can I tell Capitão you're coming up?"
Before she could stop him, MacRieve opened the door. Standing there was "Charlie," a clearly startled young man.
"The wife and I will be up in ten minutes."
"Uh, yes, aprecivel - "
As she gaped, MacRieve shoved the door closed in his face. "Lousha," he began in a low threatening tone, "no more dallying. Take off your clothes. Now."
"I'm going to kill you, MacRieve!" she said under her breath. "Introducing us as married?"
"It'll happen soon enough." Though matehood was as good as forever for his kind, the Valkyrie preferred some kind of binding ceremony - Annika had backed down from her hostility a grudging inch once Lachlain had agreed to give Emma one.
So Garreth had decided he would marry Lucia, wouldn't rest until she saw their union as eternal. "Mark my words."
"I can't tell you how wrong you are about that," she said in a strange tone.
"Would they no' wonder why we share a last name? Thank your sister Nïx for that."
"You could have told them we were siblings!"
"Like they'd believe that! When you're always seducing me with your eyes."
"I'm not - I never!"
Ignoring her protests, he leaned back on the bed, hands folded under his head. The bow case lay by his side - he all but dared her to try to take it again. "Lousha, you canna go to the meeting sopping wet, now, can you?"
Her eyes darted as she so clearly weighed her options. That she was even considering stripping told him that she did in fact have some serious shite going on down here.
Garreth had figured she was here on some quest - they were common enough in the Lore. Plus, he still remembered her whispering to her sister in Val Hall about locating some mystery item.
Did he need to know what business she had? Absolutely. And the fact that it was here in the Green Hell made him wary. But with Lucia he'd learned to let information unfold - eventually he'd get his way and discover everything. "You want this back" - he smugly patted the case - "then take off your clothes."
Flashing dark eyes promised retribution. "I'll get you back for this."
"You already have, Archer. The shirt's coming off for the logs. You broke my leg that time. Have you ever tried to swim in rapids with a compound fracture? The pants are for shooting a flaming arrow into that fireworks warehouse - while I was in it."
"That wasn't my idea, that was Reg - "
"Ah-ah, I'm no' finished. The bra is for shooting no' one but two MacRieves."
"What are you talking about?"
"Already forgotten that you shot my brother?"
"While trying to rescue Emma from his castle. And only through his arm, and only because he kidnapped my niece!"
"To make her his queen."
"We had no idea that it could possibly work out between them at the time."
He shrugged. "And the panties are for that first night I almost claimed you. When you left my bollocks so blue, they still have no' been set to rights."
A deep blush stole across her cheekbones. "You're not blameless in this. I wouldn't have continually attacked you if you hadn't stalked me. And I'll remind you yet again, you lied to me!"
"I did lie," he said simply. "I dinna want to spook you. But you ran anyway. Why, Lousha? Why run from me?" The question maddened him. At every turn, she appeared attracted to him. He'd scented her interest on more than one occasion. Yet she still fled, still fought, and always swore she wanted nothing to do with him.
"I - didn't - run! You know what? Keep the bow!"
"That's no' all I have over you. You will no' tell me what you're doing on this boat, but I ken that it's important to you and that you're posing as a human. If you doona want me to reveal what you are - "
"You wouldn't! You know how you'd be punished."
"You want your bow? Your cover kept?" Why am I pushing her like this? Probably because he was still riled over her stunts. Because swimming with a femoral fracture truly was unimaginably painful, and he'd vowed to get revenge.
But mainly because he wanted to behold his mate. He was a male, and a primitive one at heart - he simply wanted to ogle the female Fate had chosen for him. "You're stalling, Valkyrie. We're both adults, and you're in no way modest about anything else."
"Maybe I don't want to get jumped as soon as I strip."
"I vow to give you a reprieve. At least until after your meeting."
"You know what? I'll do it. Just to show you what you'll never have." With a glare, she dug into her pack, snatching out a change of clothes - a pair of plain beige pants, but she'd unerringly chosen a red halter top and red underwear.
"Red," he breathed. The color was an attractant to Lykae males, more so for mated ones. And this lingerie was especially pleasing. There was a ribbon on the back of the panties clearly made for a man's eyes. He imagined fingering it as he put her on her hands and knees. He'd slowly peel the panties down her thighs, just far enough that he could spread her legs and enter her.
She turned to take off her shirt, pulling it over her head. When she removed her bra and reached for the dry one, he caught a glimpse of one of her lush breasts and a dusky rose nipple.
How many times had he ejaculated in his hand, imagining those big breasts? How many times had he come with his teeth gritted with frustration because he was squeezing his cock instead of kneading those mounds of creamy flesh...?
Though his Lucia wasn't shy, she acted discomfited sometimes, behaving in ways contrary to what he'd expect. Not modest in any way yet still shy. She was like that now. Acting as if this were killing her. When in fact, he could tell she was becoming aroused. Her breaths had grown shallow. Her eyes flickered silver. He wondered if she knew that.
She removed her underwear, revealing her taut, work-of-art arse, and all thought fled his brain for long moments. "Gods almighty," he finally breathed, making her shoulders stiffen. "Never seen your arse before. And never seen the likes of it in a thousand years."
He clenched his fists, reminding himself of his ill-advised vow not to jump her. But damn, he needed to cup her there, spank her, nip her. Any way he could touch those generous curves.
She tugged on the lingerie far too fast for his liking, then donned her pants and shirt. Facing him, she said, "There. Are you happy?"
His voice rough, he said, "If happy means hard as stone and heavy in the bollocks, then aye."
With a glare, she started for the door. He shot to his feet, stomping into his boots, then slinging her bow case over his shoulder to follow her.
"You can't go!" Her expression was aghast.
"I go where you go."
"But your eyes are turning when you look at me!"
He shrugged. "You affect me." Understatement. He wanted to shove his face into her satiny hair and breathe in deep. He wanted to lick her nipples and know her taste -
"The mortals will see! You have to stay here. Our deal was that you wouldn't blow my cover!"
He snagged sunglasses from his pack. "No' a problem."
"And what about... that?" She delicately pointed to his erection.
He made a big show of tucking his shaft straight up behind the waist of his jeans. She looked stunned to have seen the head of his cock before he pulled his shirt down. "Ah, lass, you've seen it before. Had your hands all over it."
She was still gaping when he possessively clasped her nape and escorted her from the cabin. He followed the scent of humans to the meeting room.
By the time they reached it, she was still steaming mad. But he had leverage over her now, and he wouldn't be shy about using it. She didn't want to be discovered; he'd threatened to expose her. He'd be ruthless to have her. As ruthless as she'd proved to be to him.
At the door, she hissed, "This isn't finished."
"Been telling myself that for a year." He turned her, capturing her in his arms. She beat his chest with considerable strength, but he didn't budge. "You know when you've been nicest to me? Whenever I was taking kisses from you, demanding them as my due. Then you melted for me." He cupped her face, brought her to him, slanting his lips over hers.
After moments of hesitation, she melted, just as he'd remembered. He savored fleeting strokes of their tongues before he somehow broke away. "A taste of what's to come tonight. Because I will have you." Let her get used to the idea.
He opened the door, entering before her to sweep a cautious glance around the room. Inside stood two middle-aged men, clearly scientists.
Meet-and-greet with tight-arsed geeks? The things he did for his female.
Chapter 21
Still flustered, with her lips bruised from MacRieve's kiss, Lucia entered the room; the two mortal males inside gazed at her with open appreciation. She checked the braids over her ears, uncomfortable with their scrutiny.
The pair - a tall middle-aged man with a genial smile and pallid skin and a younger one sporting a cowlick and thick glasses - looked like they wanted to introduce themselves, but MacRieve's aggressive demeanor and dark sunglasses probably put them off.
After unswervingly steering her to this room as if he knew the layout of the ship, he'd demonstrated conclusively that she had no willpower with him. She'd been right to run for the last twelve months, right to strike against him. She would again, but first she had to get her bow back. Before she did something stupid....
The spacious salon had faded maps posted all along the walls and crates of scientific equipment that hadn't yet been unpacked into the adjoining lab. Some chairs were lined up in a U shape with a stool up front and center. A wheezing window-unit air conditioner chugged out cool drafts and the aroma of mold.
The two broad windows were fogged with condensation and draped with embroidered curtains. The bright and cheery material matched the tablecloth at the coffeepot station.
Once she took a seat, MacRieve dropped the long length of his body into one beside it. Determined to ignore him, she gazed around, her attention settling on a sheet posted above the coffeepot. Under a lovingly hand-drawn collage of jungle animals there was a list in calligraphy script:
Fast Facts About the Amazon!
The Amazon River holds 20 % of the world's freshwater. At no point is it crossed by a bridge. The river is wider at the mouth than the entire length of the Thames River. The Amazon Basin is 2.6 million square miles, almost as large as the United States.
The water depth fluctuates 40 feet between the December-to-May high-water season and the June-to-November low-water season. The entire geography of the basin is altered every six months. Tributaries appear and disappear each year.
A 30-40 % loss of rain forest will create a reduction in rainfall, starting a globe-killing cycle that can never be reversed. 16 % of the Amazon is already gone forever....
Tributaries appear and disappear? They were just going into the rainy season. Even in the unlikely case that she found a map to the legendary Rio Labyrinto, how accurate would it be if the waterways were ever changing?
Just as she finished reading, a tall stranger entered. With his inky black hair, jade green eyes, and bronze skin, the man was model handsome, looking plucked from the pages of Latin GQ. "Is this seat taken, querida?" he said, sweeping an admiring glance over her.
MacRieve growled low in his throat. Sensing the Lykae was about to attack the new male, she furtively pinched his arm, until she was certain blood welled under his skin.
He was undeterred. With a killing look, MacRieve crossed his arms, leaning back and kicking a dirty boot up atop the chair in question. "It's taken now."
The man narrowed his eyes as if he might protest, but eventually he chose another chair on the other side of the room.
Shortly after, Captain Travis swaggered inside, with a fuming mug of "coffee" in his hand and a pretty young woman behind him. Without preamble, he began, "As you know, I'm Wyatt Travis, your captain."
Our drunken, money-grubbing captain. Who'd refused to help a damsel in obvious distress. Not that he could've done anything.
He negligently sat on the stool up front. He might not be as tall as MacRieve - few were - but he was big, like a former NFL player. The love of liquor must have been a recent development, since he was still built like a seasoned athlete. "And the Contessa's my ship. One hundred and eight feet long, she's a light draft, draws only five feet. Lets us get deep into the jungle." He pointed toward the back of the room at a wall-sized map of the river and all its known tributaries. They resembled veins - a rain forest circulatory system. "I'll keep that map updated with our whereabouts." Push-pins had left holes throughout, until the paper was missing in places. The Contessa, it seemed, had been just about everywhere in the basin, and she'd been there many times over.
Travis paused for a deep drink from his mug, so she took the opportunity to glance at MacRieve from under a lock of her hair.
He looked suspicious and aggressive, so different from the man she'd first known. He was harder now, darker. Because of me. Her lips were still tender from his harsh, demanding kiss - a constant reminder of what he planned to do with her this evening.
He's going to try to have sex with me. Realization fully hit her. This very night.
How was she supposed to sit through this meeting, knowing what would befall her when they returned? She was on edge and knew he could sense her tension - because she could sense his as well.
And what would she do when he tried to? Earlier, as she'd removed her clothes, the look in his eyes had been delighted, as if he were unwrapping the best gift he could possibly conceive of.
Surprisingly, she'd responded, finding it... erotic to strip at his command. Maybe she was a closet submissive - who'd needed to dominate every opponent over a thousand years. All except for MacRieve? Am I delirious?
"We're heading south toward the very end of the Amazon proper," Travis continued, "then turning off on the San Miguel tributary to some of the most remote parts of the basin. We'll motor all night until the river gets tight." Another swig for the thirsty captain. "Since we're going deeper into virgin territory, this trip lent itself to several different disciplines. Everybody here's in different fields, so there's no direct competition."
He made a negligent hand motion toward the young woman beside him. "This is my cook."
Of middling height, with soulful hazel eyes, the female looked to be all of nineteen. "Hi, I'm Izabel Carlotta Ambos," she said with a confident wave. Izabel was comely, though she wore a shapeless shirt and baggy cargo pants, cinched tight with a belt. "I'll be preparing your meals. My bife a cavalo is deliciosa, and if you keep the kitchen stocked with fish, I'll keep fresh feasts on the table."
MacRieve perked up at that.
"Some of you have met my twin, Charlie. He's the deckhand." Same Brazilian accent as her brother, same hazel eyes.
Izabel smiled at her, and Lucia gave a pained smile in return. Oh, no, not the we're the only two females on a ship of males bonding bit. She had no need for additional "pals." Especially not short-term human ones.
Besides, there was something off about her that Lucia couldn't put her finger on. Perhaps Izabel had Lorean in her, somewhere far back in her family line. Or maybe she was completely human, but with a curse hanging over her. Something was amiss.
"Yeah, that's right," the captain said. "Chuck is my right-hand man. You'll meet him later." Another draw from his mug. "Chuck and Izabel are new to the Contessa - so this trip is the last one of a long trial period. Drop me a dime if they screw up." The captain seemed to have a cosmic inability to call Charlie anything but Chuck. "Now, some of you are already acquainted, but it's customary on this ship to do a round of intros. Tell us who you are, what you study, and why you're here."
The pale man said, "I guess I'll start" - his accent was east coast, upper crust - "I'm Benjamin Rossiter, an M.D. and professor of chemoecology at Cornell. I'll be looking for uncataloged plants in the hope of discovering pharmaceutical uses." Though his manner was relaxed, he had dark circles under his blue eyes and sweat had beaded above his upper lip. "We've only identified one percent of the medicinal plants in the basin, yet that one percent accounts for twenty-five percent of all our pharmaceuticals. The potential is nearly inconceivable." He held up a palm, casting them a half grin. "And I'll stop myself there, so I don't make your eyes glaze over." The guy looks moneyed. So what's he doing on a tub like this?
The darkly handsome man spoke next. "I'm Marcos Damiãno, head of the department of social anthropology at the University of São Paulo."
If Lucia had suspected Izabel had some connection to the Lore, she was certain Damiãno did.
"My specialization is indigenous shamanism, and I'm here to search for uncontacted tribes."
MacRieve still had his arms crossed over his chest. "If they're uncontacted, do they no' want to stay that way?"
Lucia jabbed her elbow at him, and he grunted.
Damiãno gave a tight smile that didn't reach his vivid green eyes. "Several large oil companies are bidding on these remote territories, falsely claiming they're unoccupied, so any tribes there will certainly be contacted regardless. My aim for this expedition is to get photos of them from a distance and prove their existence, which would halt all oil exploration on their lands." He waved to the cowlick guy beside him. "Dr. Schecter?"
"Right, right, I'm Dr. Clarence Schecter, a zoologist from UC San Diego." He removed his glasses, polishing them with his shirttail. "My area of study is unculled species of reptiles."
Rossiter raised a brow. "Unculled?"
"Yes, when men hunt, they pick off the largest of the species. Over time, the pool becomes smaller. So the deeper into the jungle we get, the more chance there is of spotting larger-than-normal river specimens."
With all their talk of going deep into the jungle, Lucia might not have to dump them as early as she'd thought.
MacRieve scoffed. "What do you mean 'larger than normal?' Normal out here is no' exactly small." MacRieve had said he'd hoped never to come back here. How long had he been in the basin before? And why?
The captain agreed. "I see giant animals every day. Tarantulas with meaty bodies the size of dinner plates. Foot-long scorpions. Twenty-foot-long gators. Giant otters and even catfish'll stretch nine feet."
"And by gator," Dr. Schecter said in a patronizing tone, "I assume you mean the South American crocodilian species called the caiman?"
At Travis's shrug, Schecter said, "That's the thing. In other areas, we have fossil records of caimans reaching forty feet long. But they've been overhunted. Now, once we gain enough distance from civilization, and with the sonic baiting techniques I'll utilize, I'll be able to document primordial specimens."
MacRieve coughed the word, "Sonic" just as Rossiter made a sound of realization.
"Megafauna," the man said. "You're searching for megs! If you're a cryptozoologist, just admit it and take your ribbing."
Cryptozoology - the study of creatures from "myth." They're in a room with at least two cryptids. And they don't even know it.
"Me? I'm not a cryptozoologist!" Schecter flushed red. "Otherwise I'd be aboard the Barão da Borracha."
As Rossiter groaned, Travis's expression turned chilling, while Izabel studied her captain's sudden change in demeanor.
"Wait - what was that?" Lucia asked. Nïx had said, Beware of the barão da borracha. The Rubber Baron wasn't a person but a ship? "Why do you say that?"
Schecter answered, "The Barão is filled to the bevels with cryzos. You know, cryptozoologists. Captain Malaqu takes them hunting in the jungle for 'demons' and 'shape-shifters' in backwater tributaries." He added, "I've heard passengers go out with Malaqu. But sometimes... they don't come back."
Lucia waited for Travis to naysay that, to call it a baseless rumor. Instead he drank deep.
She asked the captain, "Is that ship close by?"
"Headed north in the opposite direction," Travis said tightly. He added in a mumble, "As I like it."
Izabel canted her head at Travis, and her thick black braid swept off her shoulder. The young woman clearly carried a torch for the much older, and remarkably less sober, captain. Good luck with the male specimen you've got there, Izabel. P.S.: This ship has been over-culled.
"Where're they searching for demons?" MacRieve asked. "Which tributary?"
Schecter answered, "My guide in Iquitos told me Rio Labyrinto, or some such."
At that mention, Lucia tensed and of course MacRieve noticed. He put his callused hand on her back. It was warm against her, even through her shirt.
"That's nothing but a hokey legend," the captain muttered into his cup. And for a second, Lucia thought he was lying.
Schecter said, "Well, likely so. But I'd taken all that information with a grain of salt since the guide also told me that they were loading a coffin onto the ship!"
Now both Lucia and MacRieve tensed. A vampire? What would a leech possibly be doing out here? For some reason she thought of Lothaire. He'd been making power plays throughout the Lore for the last year -
"Your turn, Dr...." Schecter asked her, trailing off.
"What? Me? I'm Dr. MacRieve." She grated out the last word, and the werewolf's lip curled. "From LSU."
Damn it, what would Nïx have said was her field? She glanced at Travis. "And I'm a..."
He frowned. "Paleopathologist?"
Paleo what? Damn you, Nïx!
Now Dr. Rossiter frowned. "Paleo? How will you find a fossil record in a live river basin?"
"I would love to tell you, but it's a trade secret," she said with a forced smile.
"At least tell us what diseases you are studying as a pathologist," Damiãno said.
"If Dr. Rossiter feared he'd make your eyes glaze over, I could put you to sleep."
Schecter turned to MacRieve. "And what is your field, Dr...?"
Despite the fact that he was a prince, he answered, "Mr. MacRieve. I'm here in a security capacity for my wife. She's the beauty and brains - I'm the brawn."
She stiffened again at his calling her his wife. MacRieve had no idea how much that word bothered her.
Schecter asked, "Why exactly would anyone need security?"
"Are you jesting?" MacRieve asked. "You doona know?" He flashed an aggravated look at Travis, then said simply, "Because we're in the bluidy Amazon."
Chapter 22
The sun had begun to set, filling Lucia with more anxiety. She couldn't remember the last time she'd dreaded nightfall more. And she'd warred with vampires!
She repeatedly debated her options. One idea she'd ruled out? Telling MacRieve the truth. If she revealed to him precisely why they couldn't have sex ever, much less tonight, he would no doubt tell her she could live without the archery - because he would protect her.
And if he used that reasoning with her, she thought she could hate him.
Once the meeting was over, Izabel brought in a tub of iced-down Iquiteña beer for "the doctors." When she set the tub down, her blouse gaped, and Travis's eyes were on her like a hawk. Then he scowled at the glimpse of her exposed bra. A scowl? Most men would be delighted.
With an inward shrug - who could understand the minds of mortals? - Lucia crossed to the salon entrance. As she reached for the knob, she noticed that the door was thick, with a security barricade that could be slammed in place. A rain forest panic room? Interesting...
Once she walked outside, she stopped at the closest rail, nearly gasping at the oppressive heat after being in the air-conditioned room.
MacRieve snagged a bottle of beer, then followed her out, standing next to her at the railing. He held the bottle with his forefinger curled around the neck. Which was so... male. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, stowing his sunglasses in a pocket.
"Back to my cabin."
"Happy to escort you there." He took a swig, placing his free hand on her lower back.
Dead man walking? Try dead Valkyrie walking. Every step closer was grueling. She was breathless, filled with trepidation. Why hadn't she been able to deny him in the past? Part of her whispered, It's not him you can't deny - it's yourself.
She was going to have to strike against him yet again. But how? How to get her bow? And then get him off the boat?
Silence reigned between MacRieve and her, while all around them the rain forest was awakening. Frogs croaked, building to a deafening crescendo before dwindling to silence, then building once more. Insects whirred and chirped, howler monkeys screeching.
MacRieve took another swig of beer. "Never met so many scientists who needed to get laid."
Unable to help herself, she asked, "What are you talking about?"
He stopped, leaning in, forcing her back to the wall. He rested his free hand against it over her head. "Looks like we're going deep. Gotta get deep up the river. Really penetrate the virgin bush, over and over again, till we achieve our mutual aims."
When he grinned, she stared at his lips. Then at his eyes, at those laugh lines. As ever, she was captivated by this big, brawny male and curious about his past. Just from looking at him, she could tell he'd been in the sun laughing in the days before he'd been frozen forever into his immortality.
Another swig. Was he waiting to finish his beer before bringing her to the cabin, or just enjoying the sunset? "Those docs got more bollocks than sense. They have no idea how dicey it is out here."
"How do you know so much about the Amazon?"
"Unfortunately, I'm verra familiar with the Green Hell." He appeared to have mellowed somewhat, though he still seemed preoccupied. "When the clan wanted to leave Scotland, the Amazon basin was one of the proposed settlement options. Lots of room to run, and no humans for thousands of miles in some areas. It sounded perfect."
"But it wasn't?"
"I got down here and learned that the Amazon can even kill immortals. She does no' care which lives she takes and is strong enough to pluck any she chooses." He met her gaze. "It can be lethal - even for us." His brows drew together, as if at some memory.
Had he lost a loved one? Or a lover? A flare of jealousy startled her. Had he kissed another under this very sky? Her gaze fell to his lips.
"You're doing it again, Lousha."
"What?"
"Looking like you want me to kiss you."
She flushed. Was she that transparent? "Dream on, werewolf."
"I do, constantly."
Hastily returning to the subject, she asked, "Did you lose someone in your party down here?"
"Nay, I came alone." At her questioning glance, he said, "A type of penance, I guess. It's a moot point now...." He trailed off, his gaze leaving her face to scan the river. His body tensed around hers, his face hardened, and his irises flickered pale blue.
