Midnight Rainbow (19 page)

Leaning over, she took his knife from his belt and swiftly sliced the bread and cheese. In less than a minute, she'd made two thick cheese sandwiches and returned the knife to its sheath. “Can you hold the sandwich and drive, or do you want me to feed you?”

“I can manage.” It was awkward, wrestling with the steering wheel and holding the sandwich at the same time, but she would have to slide closer to him to feed him, and that would expose her head in the back window. The road behind them was still empty, but he wasn't going to take any chances with her welfare.

“I could lie down with my head in your lap and feed you,” she suggested softly, and her dark eyes were sleepy and tender.

He jerked slightly, his entire body tensing. “Honey, if you put your head in my lap, I might drive this crate up a tree. You'd better stay where you are.”

Was it only yesterday that he'd taken her so completely in that cave? He'd made her his, possessed her and changed her, until she found it difficult to remember what it had been like before she'd known him. The focus of her entire life had shifted, redirected itself onto him.

What she was feeling was plainly revealed in her eyes, in her expressive face. A quick glance at her had him swallowing to relieve an abruptly dry throat, and his hands clenched
on the wheel. He wanted her, immediately; he wanted to stop the truck and pull her astride him, then bury himself in her inner heat. The taste and scent of her lingered in his mind, and his body still felt the silk of her skin beneath his. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to get enough of her to satisfy him in the short time they had remaining, but he was going to try, and the trying would probably drive him crazy with pleasure.

They wolfed down the sandwiches, then Jane passed him the canteen. The Perrier was flat, but it was still wet, and he gulped it thirstily. When he gave the canteen back to her, she found herself gulping, too, in an effort to replenish the moisture her body was losing in perspiration. It was so hot in the truck! Somehow, even trekking through the jungle hadn't seemed this hot, though there hadn't been even a hint of breeze beneath the canopy. The metal shell of the truck made her feel canned, like a boiled shrimp. She forced herself to stop drinking before she emptied the canteen, and capped it again.

Ten minutes later the truck began sputtering and coughing; then the engine stopped altogether, and Grant coasted to a stop, as far to one side of the narrow road as he could get. “It lasted almost two hours,” he said, opening the door and getting out.

Jane scrambled across the truck and got out on his side, since he'd parked so close to the edge that her door was blocked by a tree. “How far do you think we got?”

“Thirty miles or so.” He wound a lock of her hair around his forefinger and smiled down at her. “Feel up to a walk?”

“A nice afternoon stroll? Sure, why not?”

He lowered his head and took a hard kiss from her mouth. Before she could respond he'd drawn away and pushed her off the road and into the shelter of the forest
again. He returned to the truck, and she looked back to see him obliterating their footprints; then he leaped easily up the low bank and came to her side. “There's another village down the road a few more miles; I hoped we'd make it so we could buy more gas, but—” He broke off and shrugged at the change of plans. “We'll follow the road and try to get to the village by nightfall, unless they get too close to us. If they do, we'll have to go back into the interior.”

“We're not going to the swamp?”

“We can't,” he explained gently. “There's too much open ground to cover, now that they know we're in the area.”

A bleak expression came and went in her eyes so fast that he wasn't certain he'd seen it. “It's my fault. If I'd just hidden from them, instead of trying to find you…”

“It's done. Don't worry about it. We just have to adjust our plans, and the plan now is to get to Limon as fast as we can, any way we can.”

“You're going to steal another truck?”

“I'll do whatever has to be done.”

Yes, he would. That knowledge was what made her feel so safe with him; he was infinitely capable, in many different areas. Even wearily following him through the overgrown tangle of greenery made her happy, because she was with him. She didn't let herself think of the fact that they would soon part, that he'd casually kiss her goodbye and walk away, as if she were nothing more than another job finished. She'd deal with that when it happened; she wasn't going to borrow trouble. She had to devote her energies now to getting out of Costa Rica, or at least to some trustworthy authorities, where Grant wouldn't be in danger of being shot while trying to protect her. When she'd seen the blood on his face, some vital part inside of her had frozen knowing that she couldn't survive if anything happened to him. Even though she'd been able to see that he
wasn't badly hurt, the realization of his vulnerability had frightened her. As strong as he was, as vital and dangerous, he was a man, and therefore mortal.

They heard only one vehicle on the road, and it was moving toward the village where they'd stolen the truck. The sun edged downward, and the dim light in the forest began to fade. Right before the darkness became total, they came to the edge of a field, and down the road about half a mile they could see the other village spread out. It was really more of a small town than a village; there were bright electric lights, and cars and trucks were parked on the streets. After days spent in the jungle, it looked like a booming metropolis, a cornerstone of civilization.

“We'll stay here until it's completely dark, then go into town,” Grant decided, dropping to the ground and stretching out flat on his back. Jane stared at the twinkling lights of the town, torn between a vague uneasiness and an eagerness to take advantage of the comforts a town offered. She wanted a bath, and to sleep in a bed, but after so much time spent alone with Grant, the thought of once more being surrounded by other people made her wary. She couldn't relax the way Grant did, so she remained on her feet, her face tense and her hands clenched.

“You might as well rest, instead of twitching like a nervous cat.”

“I am nervous. Are we going on to Limon tonight?”

“Depends on what we find when we get into town.”

She glared down at him in sudden irritation. He was a master at avoiding straight answers. It was so dark that she couldn't make out his features; he was only a black form on the ground, but she was certain that he was aware of her anger, and that the corner of his mouth was turning up in that almost-smile of his. She was too tired to find much humor in it, though, so she walked away from him a
few paces and sat down, leaning her head on her drawn-up knees and closing her eyes.

There wasn't even a whisper of sound to warn her, but suddenly he was behind her, his strong hands massaging the tight muscles of her shoulders and neck. “Would you like to sleep in a real bed tonight?” he murmured in her ear.

“And take a real bath. And eat real food. Yes, I'd like that,” she said, unaware of how wistful her tone was.

“A town this size probably has a hotel of some sort, but we can't risk going there, not looking the way we do. I'll try to find someone who takes in boarders and won't ask many questions.”

Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and draped his arm over her shoulder. “Let's go, then. A bed sounds good to me, too.”

Walking across the field, ever closer to the beckoning lights, Jane became more conscious of how she looked, and she pushed her fingers through her tangled hair. She knew that her clothes were filthy, and that her face was probably dirty. “No one is going to let us in,” she predicted.

“Money has a way of making people look past the dirt.”

She glanced up at him in surprise. “You have money?”

“A good Boy Scout is always prepared.”

In the distance, the peculiarly mournful wail of a train whistle floated into the air, reinforcing the fact that they'd left the isolation of the rain forest behind. Oddly, Jane felt almost nakedly vulnerable, and she moved closer to Grant. “This is stupid, but I'm scared,” she whispered.

“It's just a mild form of culture shock. You'll feel better when you're in a tub of hot water.”

They kept to the fringes of the town, in the shadows. It appeared to be a bustling little community. Some of the
streets were paved, and the main thoroughfare was lined with prosperous-looking stores. People walked and laughed and chatted, and from somewhere came the unmistakable sound of a jukebox, another element of civilization that jarred her nerves. The universally known red and white sign of a soft drink swung over a sidewalk, making her feel as if she had emerged from a time warp. This was definitely culture shock.

Keeping her pushed behind him, Grant stopped and carried on a quiet conversation with a rheumy-eyed old man who seemed reluctant to be bothered. Finally Grant thanked him and walked away, still keeping a firm grip on Jane's arm. “His sister-in-law's first cousin's daughter takes in boarders,” he told her, and Jane swallowed a gasp of laughter.

“Do you know where his sister-in-law's first cousin's daughter lives?”

“Sure. Down this street, turn left, then right, follow the alley until it dead ends in a courtyard.”

“If you say so.”

Of course he found the boarding house easily, and Jane leaned against the white adobe wall that surrounded the courtyard while he rang the bell and talked with the small, plump woman who answered the door. She seemed reluctant to admit such exceedingly grimy guests. Grant passed her a wad of bills and explained that he and his wife had been doing field research for an American pharmaceutical company, but their vehicle had broken down, forcing them to walk in from their camp. Whether it was the money or the tale of woe that swayed Señora Trejos, her face softened and she opened the grill, letting them in.

Seeing the tautness of Jane's face, Señora Trejos softened even more. “Poor lamb,” she cooed, ignoring Jane's dirty state and putting her plump arm around the young
woman's sagging shoulders. “You are exhausted, no? I have a nice cool bedroom with a soft bed for you and the
señor
, and I will bring you something good to eat. You will feel better then?”

Jane couldn't help smiling into the woman's kind dark eyes. “That sounds wonderful, all of it,” she managed in her less-than-fluent Spanish. “But most of all, I need a bath. Would that be possible?”

“But of course!” Señora Trejos beamed with pride. “Santos and I, we have the water heated by the tank. He brings the fuel for the heating from San Jose.”

Chatting away, she led them inside her comfortable house, with cool tiles on the floors and soothing white walls. “The upstairs rooms are taken,” she said apologetically. “I have only the one room below the stairs, but it is nice and cool, and closer to the conveniences.”

“Thank you, Señora Trejos,” Grant said. “The downstairs room will more than make us happy.”

It did. It was small, with bare floors and plain white walls, and there was no furniture except for the wood-framed double bed, a cane chair by the lone, gracefully arched window, and a small wooden washstand that held a pitcher and bowl. Jane gazed at the bed with undisguised longing. It looked so cool and comfortable, with fat fluffy pillows.

Grant thanked Señora Trejos again; then she went off to prepare them something to eat, and they were alone. Jane glanced at him and found that he was watching her steadily. Somehow, being alone with him in a bedroom felt different from being alone with him in a jungle. There, their seclusion had been accepted. Here there was the sensation of closing out the world, of coming together in greater intimacy.

“You take the first turn at the bath,” he finally said. “Just don't go to sleep in the tub.”

Jane didn't waste time protesting. She searched the lower floor, following her nose, until she found Señora Trejos happily puttering about the kitchen. “Pardon,
señora
,” she said haltingly. She didn't know all the words needed to explain her shortage of a robe or anything to wear after taking a bath, but Señora Trejos caught on immediately. A few minutes later Jane had a plain white nightgown thrust into her hands and was shown to the
señora
's prized bathroom.

The bathroom had cracked tile and a deep, old-fashioned tub with curved claw feet, but when she turned on the water it gushed out in a hot flood. Sighing in satisfaction, Jane quickly unbuckled the backpack from her belt and set it out of the way, then stripped off her clothes and got into the tub, unwilling to wait until it was full. The heat seeped into her sore muscles and a moan of pleasure escaped her. She would have liked to soak in the tub for hours, but Grant was waiting for his own bath, so she didn't allow herself to lean against the high back and relax. Quickly she washed away the layers of grime, unable to believe how good it felt to be clean again. Then she washed her hair, sighing in relief as the strands came unmatted and once again slipped through her fingers like wet silk.

Hurrying, she wrapped her hair in a towel and got her safety razor out of the backpack. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she shaved her legs and under her arms, then smoothed moisturizer into her skin. A smile kept tugging at her mouth as she thought of spending the night in Grant's arms again. She was going to be clean and sweet-smelling, her skin silky. After all, it wasn't going to be easy to win a warrior's love, and she was going to use all the weapons at her disposal.

She brushed her teeth, then combed out her wet hair and pulled the white nightgown over her head, hoping that she wouldn't meet any of Señora Trejos's other boarders on the short trip back to her room. The
señora
had told her to leave her clothes on the bathroom floor, that she would see that they were washed, so Jane got the backpack and hurried down the hall to the room where Grant waited.