Read Man of Passion Online

Authors: Lindsay Mckenna

Tags: #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Historical, #Non-Classifiable, #Romance - General, #Romance & Sagas, #Adult, #Suspense

Man of Passion (16 page)

BOOK: Man of Passion
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"Indeed?
More so in mine,
mi
irmao
,
my brother."

Ari gasped as the husky voice of a woman broke the tender moment. Jerking a look in the direction of the voice, her eyes grew huge.

Rafe
grinned crookedly, released Ari and turned. Inca was standing less than six feet away from them. He hadn't heard her approach; but then, she was the jaguar goddess; she knew how to walk in complete silence, like the animal who was her guardian spirit. He met her willow-green eyes, which sparkled with amusement. As usual, she was in jungle camouflage fatigues and black army boots. A pair of bandoleers crossed her sleeveless olive-green T-shirt. In her right hand she carried her rifle, which he knew was never far from her grasp. Her hair, long, thick and black, was caught up in a single braid that hung lazily across her right shoulder.

"Inca…"
Rafe
said, rising and drawing Ari up with him.
Rafe
knew how intimidating Inca could be, but for whatever reason, he saw that she was shielding them from the usual thunderstorm of energy that always swirled around her. He saw Inca's eyes soften as her gaze fell on Ari. Yes, Inca understood instinctively that Ari was not the strong, powerful woman that she herself was.

Inca's full lips softened as she spoke. "So, you are the great artist I have heard about?" She began as she moved
bonelessly
around in front of them. Offering her hand to Ari, she continued, "My brother,
Rafe
, has high praise for you, Ari. I am Inca. It is an honor to meet you."

Ari stared up at the woman. She had never met anyone like her. Inca stood at least six feet
tall,
with a medium-boned frame that was all lean muscle and firmness from her slender, golden arms to the curve of her long thighs. Her skin glowed from a slight film of perspiration, and it seemed to Ari as if life throbbed around her like a million suns shining all at once. Yet as Inca eased her hand forward, the sincere look of welcome in her eyes gave Ari the courage to slide her hand into hers.

"Hi, Inca."
She felt the firmness of the woman's handshake. Releasing Inca's hand, she looked up at
Rafe
. "Are you brother and sister?"

Laughing huskily, Inca said, "No, but
Rafe
is
like
a brother to me." She reached over and embraced
Rafe
quickly, then released him.
"And I, his younger sister who is always around when he gets into trouble."

In his mind,
Rafe
cringed at her wording, because he knew it would only serve to upset Ari more.

Inca stepped back and amended her words by saying, "
Rafe
rarely gets into trouble, though, and I like to come and visit him. We play chess together. And I always win."

Unsure of Inca, who moved with such grace and confidence, Ari said little. She saw the warmth and care between this woman and
Rafe
. He looked relieved to see her.

Rafe
slid his arm around Ari as they stood there. "I've got to go downriver."

"Yes, I heard," Inca said as she placed her rifle against the log and then divested
herself
of the bandoleers. Tugging her damp T-shirt back into place, she pulled the canteen from the web belt around her waist, unscrewed the top and lifted it to her lips. After taking a long drink, she recapped the canteen. "Go carefully, my brother. The Valentino Brothers are the men who took the nephew."

Nodding,
Rafe
muttered, "I thought so. Have you been able to pick up their tracks?"

Shaking her head, Inca shoved the canteen back into her belt. "No. I had to be elsewhere." Looking down at Ari, Inca grew thoughtful. "I can stay here until you return. There is nothing that pressing for me, right now."

"Good,"
Rafe
said, inwardly relieved. Inca wasn't always available. As a matter of fact,
Amazonia
was her territory.
All
of it.
Inca was superhuman in some ways and the Indian people desperately needed the healing and protection she supplied them with.

Inca smiled slightly and moved over to the log. "This is your sketchbook, Ari?" she asked, scooping the pad up. "May I look at it?"

Panic struck Ari. Before she could say no, Inca had carefully opened the pad and was looking hard at her drawing. Words of protest jammed in Ari's throat. She stood there, feeling helpless and trying to protect herself against Inca's rejection of her work.

Inca slowly turned her head, her gaze locking with Ari's frightened one. "Why do you cringe when someone gazes upon the beauty of your skills?" She tapped the drawing. "You have captured the otherworldliness of the orchid. Has she not, my brother?"

Rafe
felt Ari sag a little, all the tension bleeding out of her once she realized Inca liked the drawing, too. "Yes, Ari has captured the heart and soul of our orchid people."

Eyes gleaming, Inca handed Ari the closed sketchbook. "You must let me go with you. I want to watch you create. I have never seen anyone draw or paint as well as you do. It will be an honor to help you find some beautiful orchids for your book. Your mother will be very pleased."

Shaken, Ari looked up at
Rafe
and then back at Inca. Had
Rafe
talked to Inca of her past?
Her mother?
The reason why Ari was here in the first place? She saw
Rafe's
lips part, his brows drop, but he said nothing. Giving Inca a strange look, Ari almost asked Inca if she could read minds, but decided against it. Suddenly Ari felt a little intimidated by Inca. The woman was a leader, there was no doubt. The way she carried herself, the way she held her chin at a proud angle, and the way she spoke showed her confidence. There was firmness, power and conviction behind her words. Although Inca's English was rudimentary, Ari noted as she turned to
Rafe
to speak more privately, she was fluent in Spanish and Portuguese. Ari was able to interpret some of what they said, but not all of it.

"I will guard her, my brother," Inca said, dropping into Portuguese.

"Good. She needs a role model like you."

Inca grinned wickedly. "Your soft little rabbit will turn into a jaguar by the time you return. Then what will you do?"

Rafe
returned her grin with one of his own. "Revel in it. As you can see, she's a shadow of herself."

"I see much. Do not worry. You will be gone at least seven days. When you return, your flower will have blossomed even more."

Rafe
reached out and gripped Inca's proud shoulder. "Thank you, my sister. I don't know how you do it—you are here for so many—but I'm grateful to you for helping me."

"Humph. Go, before I break down in tears." Inca smiled and gripped his arm in a gesture of friendship. "I will send a spirit guide with you. Where you go, the dark forces gather."

"Thanks, I'll take all the help anyone can give me," he told her.
Rafe
reluctantly turned to Ari. "I've got to go now. Inca knows her way around here. Anything you need, just ask her."

Feeling bereft as
Rafe
left her side, Ari stood there helplessly. Inca came and stood nearby, watching with her as
Rafe
mounted the plank to the houseboat. "Little sister, do not worry so much. He is in the hands of the Great Mother Goddess, who loves him dearly. She will not see him walk to his death.
Rafe
protects her children here, in her womb." Inca gestured toward the jungle nearby.

"This is a lot more dangerous than he's letting on, isn't it?"

Shrugging negligently, Inca rested her hands on her narrow hips. "What is danger? A child reaching for a hot kettle suspended over a fire?
A man falling in love with a forbidden woman?
Going to track a kidnapped child? Humph. There is more danger in the man loving the woman than in any search for a kidnapped child, believe me."

Stymied by her mysterious response, Ari stood there and tried to understand Inca's words.
A man loving a forbidden woman.
What was she talking about? How could love be forbidden?

Inca sighed and went to the blackened coffeepot at the edge of the dying fire. Handling it deftly, she grabbed a clean mug that sat near one of the logs. Pouring the thick, fragrant black coffee, she glanced up at Ari. "You are
norteamericana
.
He,
sulamericano
.
Is that not forbidden?"

The words crawled through Ari as she watched Inca straighten and sip the coffee, her willow-green gaze narrowed on the muddy
Amazon River
in front of them. She stood with one hand on her hip, one booted foot lifted up and resting on the log.
Even when she was slouched and seemingly at ease, there was nothing relaxed about Inca.
She was like an animal, constantly alert, with a fine tension sizzling around her.

"Well?"

Inca's voice snapped through her. Fighting the intimidation she felt around the woman warrior, Ari asked, "Why can't people from North and
South America
get along?"

Chuckling, Inca sipped more of the coffee.
"Why not, indeed?"
She lowered the cup, the smile disappearing from her oval face. Her eyes turned darker green as she held Ari's gaze. "Only courage can see the two nations meet and melt into one. You must find that courage here.
Now."

Stymied again by Inca's statements, Ari watched as
Rafe
emerged from below, a knapsack over one shoulder and a rifle in his right hand. A frisson of fear shot through her.

"He will be safe," Inca assured her calmly. "Do not blow things out of proportion, Ari."

Ari felt no sense of safety. Still, when she walked to meet
Rafe
as he put his gear into the small aluminum, motorized skiff, Inca's words swirled in her head. Ari had heard so much about the infamous jaguar goddess. She didn't seem like a murderer to Ari.
Just the opposite.
Inca seemed like someone who cared deeply about all things—even Ari as she panicked over possibly losing
Rafe
to a bullet from a drug runner and kidnapper.

"Take care of yourself?" Ari called as
Rafe
stepped into the boat.

He smiled slightly for her benefit. "For you,
mi
flor
,
I will."

Ari bit back the rest of her feelings.
Rafe's
kiss still tingled madly on her compressed lips. She folded her arms against her chest, feeling vulnerable. "I'll miss you,
Rafe
—our talks, making breakfast…."

As he pushed the skiff away from the bank of the channel, he sat down at the stern. "Even washing and drying dishes?" He teased.

Ari laughed a little and stepped closer. He reached toward the motor and pulled a cord. The little engine chattered to life, a cloud of bluish smoke rising in the wake. "Yes, even that."

Lifting his hand,
Rafe
called, "I'll see you in my dreams…."

Somehow, Ari thought, as she watched
Rafe
steer the skiff out of the channel and downriver, he always knew the right words to say to her.

Inca came and stood next to her. "Little sister, you and I are going to be very busy the week he is gone." She slanted
her an
amused glance. "You will not have time to worry about him. You will only have time to worry about yourself," she declared, and laughed deeply, the sound soothing Ari's troubled heart as she watched
Rafe's
boat disappear in the distance.

Chapter Seven

T
rue to her word Inca kept Ari very busy for the next week, taking her on guided tours of the jungle to search for orchids. Now, as Ari stood looking up at a thirty-foot waterfall Inca had led her to, she gasped with delight. There among the mosses and ferns she could see a deep pink and crimson
Cattleya
orchid. She couldn't determine which type, because it hung on a grayish-colored dead limb that extended out over the water, which sprayed in an arc to the oblong pool below.

BOOK: Man of Passion
3.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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