Wild Rain
Page 46
Drake grinned, but there was no humor touching his eyes. “I’d be the last man to tell you how it’s done, but I wish you the best of luck.” He started down the tree branch, then turned back. “Don’t throw it away, Rio. Not when it’s handed to you like this. Most of us will never have the opportunity.”
Rio nodded and watched the three men disappear into the shadows of the forest. He stood for a long while breathing in the crisp, clean air, the fragrance of flowers and rain. From habit he raised his head and sniffed the air, scenting the wind. He relied on his own resources to give him advanced warnings of impending danger, but the animals in his territory always aided him.
He coughed, a series of grunts, sending out the word to be carried near and far, from the smallest creature on the forest floor to the honeybees building their giant combs high in the canopy. Wings fluttered overhead, an orangutan moved slowly through the branches looking for better-flavored leaves and butterflies swarmed over the masses of flowers on the tree trunks. Ever yone went about their business, unafraid when there were no intruders in their realm.
Rio opened the door. At once the wind rushed into his house, swirling around, sending the mosquito netting dancing. Rachael lay asleep, her black hair spilling across the pillow. The wind tugged and teased at the silky strands so that her hair moved, beckoning to him. He pulled the door closed and resisted the temptation of lying down beside her. If he were going into action again so soon, he would have to clean all his weapons and make certain he had emergency kits stashed along every escape route.
Rachael ate very little and stayed quiet, stroking Fritz’s fur whileshe watched Rio work. He had more guns and more knives than anyone she’d ever met, and she was familiar with weapons. He used the same care cleaning as he did fixing up wounds, meticulous and steady, not missing a single detail. She watched as he took several sets of clothes and small medical kits along with some of the guns and put them in weatherproof packs.
“What are you doing with those?” Curiosity finally got the better of her. Rachael was comfortable with silences and with being alone, but not like Rio. He seemed perfectly fine going hours without saying a single word.
Rio glanced up and blinked, as if he’d just noticed her. In truth he’d been aware of her every move. He was nearly hypnotized by the sight of her fingers stroking the cat’s fur. “I stash the packs along my escape routes in case I’m out of ammo, weapons or need medical supplies. It can be very useful.”
“And the clothes?”
“Comes in handy if I need a change,” he answered glibly.
“I see. Are you going to tell me why your friend Drake acted so strangely around the cats and why it didn’t bother you? I expected, just for a moment there, for him to suddenly erupt into violence. I think you expected it too.”
“Drake has lived in the forest for most of his entire life. We’re very primitive here. We react to things in nature. It sounds a little strange, but if you’re here a long time, you’ll understand.” His hands stilled on the knife he was sharpening. “I want you to stay a long time, Rachael.”
His gaze was direct as always. Rachael couldn’t have looked away if her life depended on it. His voice was so low she almost didn’t hear him. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, her chest so tight from a mixture of hope and fear. She almost blurted out her first thought. She wanted to stay—needed to stay.
Had never wanted a man the way she wanted him. But death was poised over her head and it didn’t car e who happened to be in the same vicinity.
“With me, Rachael. I want you to stay here with me.”
“You know I can’t, Rio. You know why.” Her fingers curled so tightly in the clouded leopard’s fur, Fritz lifted his head and looked at her with his lip curled.
“Then at least want to stay with me. If you could, would you want to be with me?” She belonged with him. He knew it with every breath he took. Knew it with every fiber of his being. How could she not know? Not feel it? It was so clear to him.
Rachael pulled her hand away from the cat and dragged the cover to her chin. A small protection, but it made her feel in control. Rio stood up in his lazy, languorous way, the one that always reminded her of a feline. Without hesitation he lay down beside her, fitting his body around hers, careful to keep from touching her leg.
The blanket was between them, but Rachael felt his body right through the thin weave. When she took a breath, she took him into her lungs. “You don’t know me any more than I know you. We can’t just pretend we don’t have pasts, Rio, as much as we’d like. I’m not the woman you seem to remember in your dreams, and you can’t be the man I remember. Things like that aren’t real.”
His fingers tangled in her hair. “How do you know they aren’t real? How do you know we weren’t together in a past life? Your hair felt just like this, but it was long, to your waist. When you braided it, the braid was nearly as thick as my forearm. I know the sound of your laughter, Rachael, but more importantly, I know what makes you laugh. I know what makes you sad. I know that you have an aversion to monkeys. How would I know that?” He wrapped her curls around his fingers and buried his face against the silken mass.
“I must have said something, maybe when I had such a high fever. I was probably rambling like crazy.”
“Just the opposite. You were so closemouthed most of the time, it scared me. Sometimes you were barely breathing.”
Rio nodded and watched the three men disappear into the shadows of the forest. He stood for a long while breathing in the crisp, clean air, the fragrance of flowers and rain. From habit he raised his head and sniffed the air, scenting the wind. He relied on his own resources to give him advanced warnings of impending danger, but the animals in his territory always aided him.
He coughed, a series of grunts, sending out the word to be carried near and far, from the smallest creature on the forest floor to the honeybees building their giant combs high in the canopy. Wings fluttered overhead, an orangutan moved slowly through the branches looking for better-flavored leaves and butterflies swarmed over the masses of flowers on the tree trunks. Ever yone went about their business, unafraid when there were no intruders in their realm.
Rio opened the door. At once the wind rushed into his house, swirling around, sending the mosquito netting dancing. Rachael lay asleep, her black hair spilling across the pillow. The wind tugged and teased at the silky strands so that her hair moved, beckoning to him. He pulled the door closed and resisted the temptation of lying down beside her. If he were going into action again so soon, he would have to clean all his weapons and make certain he had emergency kits stashed along every escape route.
Rachael ate very little and stayed quiet, stroking Fritz’s fur whileshe watched Rio work. He had more guns and more knives than anyone she’d ever met, and she was familiar with weapons. He used the same care cleaning as he did fixing up wounds, meticulous and steady, not missing a single detail. She watched as he took several sets of clothes and small medical kits along with some of the guns and put them in weatherproof packs.
“What are you doing with those?” Curiosity finally got the better of her. Rachael was comfortable with silences and with being alone, but not like Rio. He seemed perfectly fine going hours without saying a single word.
Rio glanced up and blinked, as if he’d just noticed her. In truth he’d been aware of her every move. He was nearly hypnotized by the sight of her fingers stroking the cat’s fur. “I stash the packs along my escape routes in case I’m out of ammo, weapons or need medical supplies. It can be very useful.”
“And the clothes?”
“Comes in handy if I need a change,” he answered glibly.
“I see. Are you going to tell me why your friend Drake acted so strangely around the cats and why it didn’t bother you? I expected, just for a moment there, for him to suddenly erupt into violence. I think you expected it too.”
“Drake has lived in the forest for most of his entire life. We’re very primitive here. We react to things in nature. It sounds a little strange, but if you’re here a long time, you’ll understand.” His hands stilled on the knife he was sharpening. “I want you to stay a long time, Rachael.”
His gaze was direct as always. Rachael couldn’t have looked away if her life depended on it. His voice was so low she almost didn’t hear him. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, her chest so tight from a mixture of hope and fear. She almost blurted out her first thought. She wanted to stay—needed to stay.
Had never wanted a man the way she wanted him. But death was poised over her head and it didn’t car e who happened to be in the same vicinity.
“With me, Rachael. I want you to stay here with me.”
“You know I can’t, Rio. You know why.” Her fingers curled so tightly in the clouded leopard’s fur, Fritz lifted his head and looked at her with his lip curled.
“Then at least want to stay with me. If you could, would you want to be with me?” She belonged with him. He knew it with every breath he took. Knew it with every fiber of his being. How could she not know? Not feel it? It was so clear to him.
Rachael pulled her hand away from the cat and dragged the cover to her chin. A small protection, but it made her feel in control. Rio stood up in his lazy, languorous way, the one that always reminded her of a feline. Without hesitation he lay down beside her, fitting his body around hers, careful to keep from touching her leg.
The blanket was between them, but Rachael felt his body right through the thin weave. When she took a breath, she took him into her lungs. “You don’t know me any more than I know you. We can’t just pretend we don’t have pasts, Rio, as much as we’d like. I’m not the woman you seem to remember in your dreams, and you can’t be the man I remember. Things like that aren’t real.”
His fingers tangled in her hair. “How do you know they aren’t real? How do you know we weren’t together in a past life? Your hair felt just like this, but it was long, to your waist. When you braided it, the braid was nearly as thick as my forearm. I know the sound of your laughter, Rachael, but more importantly, I know what makes you laugh. I know what makes you sad. I know that you have an aversion to monkeys. How would I know that?” He wrapped her curls around his fingers and buried his face against the silken mass.
“I must have said something, maybe when I had such a high fever. I was probably rambling like crazy.”
“Just the opposite. You were so closemouthed most of the time, it scared me. Sometimes you were barely breathing.”
