Unexpected (12 page)

“Such as?”

She gave an elaborate shrug. “Oh, iguanas and nasty little spider monkeys. There're caiman in the river and jaguars everywhere.” She used the back of her hand to wipe her brow. “You do realize this is home to the largest jaguar population, right?”

Eli surveyed the area. “I haven't seen any wild animals. I think you're just pulling my leg.”

Ray hunted through her pack until she found a nutrition bar. She peeled back the wrapper and took a large bite before going to Eli. Chewing the tasteless, dry snack, she took his arm and led him to stand beneath a tall, mostly barren tree. Its branches spread out wide overhead but had little foliage.

“See that third biggest branch? The one that's mostly bare?”

Eli squinted upward, his hand shielding his eyes against the white sun. “Yeah, so?”

“See what's curled around that branch?”

Suddenly Eli's eyes widened and he took a hasty step back. “Son of a bitch.”

For a big man, he moved pretty damn quick, prompting Ray to laughter. “What's the matter, Eli? You afraid of snakes?”

“A boa constrictor is not your everyday snake, Ray.” He brushed her bangs off her forehead and said with something akin to amusement, “Only you would choose to have lunch with a monster like that looming overhead.”

She was covered in sweat, scratched and dirty, and still he touched her with a gentleness she'd never experienced before. Ray moved back to her pack and sat on a large twisted root. She needed the physical distance from Eli to keep herself in check. “Contrary to all the Tarzan movies, boas don't feast on people and it isn't poisonous. As long as you ignore it, it'll ignore you.”

He stared up at the snake. “I wasn't planning to invite it to lunch.” Glancing back at Ray, he smiled. “You're unbelievable.”

He said it like a compliment, filling Ray with soft emotions out of place in the humid jungle. It was kind of nice that even when she was herself, Eli wasn't put off.

“Here.” Ray tossed another nutrition bar at him.

Eli eyed it with distaste. “Thanks, but I'm not hungry. You can keep it.” And he tossed it right back.

“Now, Eli,” Ray scolded, “don't be a baby. It's not that bad. Besides, you eat caviar and escargot, right?”

“Not on your life.” He, too, found a chunk of wood to sit on, stretching out his long legs and leaning back on a tree. “I'm more a beef or pork man. Steaks, chops, roasts . . .”

Here she'd pictured Eli dining on fine cuisine, not hearty meat and potatoes. He liked the kind of stuff she cooked—whoa. She was not the type to cook her way into a man's heart. “I insist you eat. If you get weak on me, you'll only be a bother.”

Eli clamped his lips shut.

“Going to be difficult, I see.” Challenged, Ray crawled the short distance toward Eli. Anticipation swelled inside her. “You're going to eat this, you know.”

He smiled, but his lips remained firmly closed. He even shook his head. Ray saw the awareness in his golden predator's eyes. He knew she'd attack—and he wanted her to. But she wouldn't make it easy. She wouldn't give him any warning.

Sitting back on her haunches, Ray frowned at him, pretending discouragement. Eli started to relax—and that was all the advantage she needed. She launched herself onto him, knocking him flat onto the mossy ground. Eli tried to twist away, but she anticipated that move and countered it by throwing one leg over his hips and hooking his opposite arm. He turned his head, thinking she meant to shove the snack bar down his throat. Instead, Ray pinned him to the ground.

He quit fighting her.

Both of them were panting hard. Sitting on Eli's abdomen, she felt his every fast breath. She had her knees pressed into the hollows of his shoulders and caught two fingers from each of his hands in one of her own. Her hold was tight, but not damaging. The position had her leaning over his face with her breasts on a level with his mouth.

Eli's expression told her he had no complaints over her methods.

Damn. She knew how to hold a man immobile, but not with him plainly enjoying it.

Eli eyed her breasts as if they were dinner instead of the partially crumbled snack bar. His eyes had darkened, grown intent in that sexual, masculine way that indicated interest. By small degrees, he'd worn her down with his attention, his compliments, his acceptance. And now, the way he watched her made all those feelings ignite. She wanted to feel his mouth on her breast, tugging on her nipple. She wanted to feel the wet heat and velvet stroke of his tongue.

The images were so vivid, the sensation so real, she gasped.

“Ray.” He growled her name with rough need and started to slide his hands free. Belatedly she remembered her purpose and attempted to stuff the food into his mouth.

Eli turned his face away, snickering, his lips again sealed. Ray considered the problem, then used her free hand to tickle him.

Taken by surprise, Eli burst out laughing and she smashed a considerable amount of the snack against his teeth. “There. Now eat it.”

Sputtering, spitting granola and nuts to the side, Eli said, “Tickling?
Tickling,
Ray? What kind of commando tactic is that?”

“An effective one, apparently.” Still shaken from her intimate thoughts, Ray started to sidle off him and Eli bent, snared both her hands, and turned her beneath him. Shock rippled through her. He'd caught her completely off guard. Again.

Eli settled himself by stretching her arms high over her head and locking her wrists in one of his hands. She was strong, but when it came to muscle, Eli had her beat. She still could have gotten loose, but not without seriously injuring him. And . . . did she even want loose?

His eyes hot with triumph, he looked at her mouth. “You've just made me sweatier,” he accused.

Ray strained against him, but that only heightened her sense of helplessness. Strangely, it excited her. A sweet tingling filled her belly and her nipples drew tight, making her breasts ache.

Eli bent down and she felt his gentle breath fan her throat. He inhaled slowly. “You smell good, Ray, all warm and damp.”

She barely caught her groan of desire. “I should be planning, not playing.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open again. “I think you're a bad influence on me, Eli Connors.”

He stared at her, keeping her gaze captive while carefully shifting his weight until he'd nudged her thighs apart. All her logical considerations evaporated. With the hard ground beneath her, his weight should have been uncomfortable, but instead it seemed her body welcomed him, her curves fitting his angles with ease.

He had an erection.

She could feel the hard length pressed to the wide open junction of her thighs. She knew she was growing damp, softening. She liked how it felt, how he felt. A small moan escaped. Their scents mingled, hot and muggy.

Eli's free hand came up to cup her cheek. “There's nothing wrong with laughing occasionally, honey.”

He made her want to. He made the idea of playing on the mossy jungle floor, covered in sweat, with a boa overhead, seem like a great idea. Insane.

His hand trailed downward, over the side of her throat, cupping her shoulder, fingers spreading out and moving down again until his palm grazed the side of her breast.

She hated the damn vest that kept her from getting the full impact of his touch. Yet, she was responsible for him and his brother until they landed back in the States. She had to keep her priorities straight. Playing touchy-feely now was not on the agenda.

“Maybe laughing is okay.” She swallowed and forced the words out. “But we're on a timetable. We need to make it to the camp before nightfall. And we still need to visit Sarita.”

As if the softness drew him, he gently stroked her bottom lip with his fingertip. “Two minutes won't hurt, will it? I like hearing you laugh, Ray—almost as much as I like feeling you under me.”

Oh God, if he kept saying things like that . . . “We're supposed to be rescuing your brother.”

“And we will,” he promised. His gaze followed the movement of his finger tracing over her mouth. He leaned closer and his voice grew husky. “I need to kiss you, Ray.”

God help her, she wanted him to.

“Don't slug me, okay?”

He had great faith in her abilities if he thought she could break free and offer up a fight when her every muscle felt like mush. Almost from the moment she first spotted him in that dark, dreary bar, she had wanted this. For the first time in her adult life, the need of the woman took precedence over the responsibility of the mercenary.

They could spare a few minutes. After all, it wasn't every day that a man wanted her like this, and it was even less often that she wanted him back.

R
ay went still beneath him, her sable eyes slowly closing in surrender. The significance of that didn't escape him. He knew she could be free in a heartbeat if that was what she wanted. Ray wasn't a woman who lightly gave in. She was a woman of honor, independence, and integrity. Unlike other women he'd known, she would never chase a man because of his family connections or his wealth. She would never require a man for financial support.

When Ray accepted a man, as she'd just accepted him, it'd have to be because she wanted him and for no other reason.

It was a heady thing, gaining Ray's attention. Though it had only been days, it seemed he'd waited a lifetime to touch her, to kiss her. She was hot, exciting, a mystery and a temptation. Vulnerable and stubborn and brazen beyond all social bounds.

She was so much more than any woman he was ever likely to meet.

Unable to wait another second, Eli slowly bent down and touched his mouth to hers. He felt her breath, her quiescence, and just that small contact, because this was Ray, felt hot and deep and sexually ripe.

Driven by a pervasive need to gentle her, he coaxed her lips open. Ray needed more gentleness in her life, and he was determined to be the one to give it to her.

His senses heightened to the luxuriant scents of the jungle, the subtle rustling of life that surrounded them. He felt Ray's every heartbeat, her every breath, as if they were his own. He was aware of it all, but his concentration centered on her mouth, her response, and his own needs.

“Ray.” Lazily, he nibbled on her bottom lip, all the while covering her, absorbing her. Ray made a small sound of growing urgency that tested his resolve to go slow and easy. The fragile bones in her wrists flexed when she curled her hands into fists. Such a wonderful, telling reaction.

With the tip of his tongue, Eli traced just inside her lips, gliding along the edge of her teeth, touching her tongue, tasting her and teasing her before giving in with a groan.

God, she tasted good. His body clenched with his tight restraint, and despite his resolve, his hips pressed down and in, mocking the movements of his tongue, stroking her as if the barriers of clothes didn't exist. He was so hard, so full that he hurt with his need.

He wanted to fuck her, to be inside her right now, feeling her sleek thighs against his waist, her fingers tight on his shoulders. He wanted to claim her so that Ray would have no further doubts that she belonged with him.

As his cock thrust against her, she gasped and strained, trying to get closer, drawing his tongue deeper into her mouth, sucking. Eli gave up. The gentleness would come later, he'd see to that. But for now, he needed to appease them both.

The damn vest frustrated him because it kept him from her breasts and nipples. Blindly, his mouth still covering hers, he groped and found her silken skin between the waistband of her fatigues and the tank top and vest. For such a stubborn, capable woman, Ray had incredible softness—her mouth, her sighs, her dewy skin.

Eli knew he was grinding into her, but Ray didn't complain. Bending her knees alongside his hips and bracing her booted feet on the ground, she lifted into him, riding herself against the length of his cock with maddening determination. She pulled her mouth free, arching her neck and groaning deep and low. Eli forgot about holding her wrists—he captured her face instead, keeping her still for another kiss. He couldn't get enough of her mouth, didn't know if a lifetime would be enough.

The second her hands were free, Ray clutched his shoulders, then slid her strong fingers up his neck to clench in his hair. The small pain brought Eli to his senses. Ray was nearly desperate with need, panting and groaning, mindless to everything around them. Because of that, Eli knew he had to stop.

The timing was all wrong, the place preposterous. When he made love to Ray, it wouldn't be on the rough, dirty ground with the threat of wild animals, drug runners, and deadly insects to contend with. Yet, all those things existed. If they made love now, she'd feel guilty afterward, thinking she'd failed in her duty to stay alert, to watch out for him and protect him.

She would never let him take full responsibility for what would happen. She'd blame herself—and Eli couldn't bear to see that happen. She blamed herself for enough already.

Truth was, he'd intended only a quick taste anyway, a small kiss to tide him over till they found a better time and place. He should have realized how impossible that'd be with Ray. Just seeing her affected him too strongly for him to believe he could touch her without wanting more. A whole lot more.

He'd screwed this up and now it was only going to get worse before it got better.

Carefully, Eli again caught her wrists and drew her hands down to either side of her head. Her slenderness was deceptive, given the strength with which she fought him now. Not because she wanted away from him, but because she wanted to draw him closer. And knowing that made his decision harder still.

“Ray,” he whispered, hoping to bring her around slowly. Her eyes were all but closed, her lips swollen and wet from his kiss, cheeks flushed. She looked so . . .
ready.
Damn it, why did he start what he couldn't, in good conscience, finish?

As Eli watched her, mesmerized with her shifting expressions of awareness, her lids lifted and those indescribable eyes focused on him.

Knowing she wanted him, that he could have her, left his heart near to bursting. “Hi,” he whispered, then couldn't stop himself from another small peck before teasing, “That was some kiss, lady. Way hotter than the jungle.”

Her frown came slowly, but it was more confusion than anger. “We shouldn't have done that.”

We.
Though he was the one who'd pushed her, she didn't blame him as the instigator. He learned new things about his little warrior every hour. And if she kept looking at him like that, he'd lose what honor he still held and end up right back where he started.

Forcing himself to roll to the side, Eli stared up at the sky. In the past few minutes, it had darkened, turning a turbulent dim gray that reflected his new mood. “Come on, Ray. Do you honestly think I could have waited much longer?”

She sat up beside him and brushed small pieces of dirt and debris off her arms. Her movements were awkward, stiff, lacking her natural grace, and she wouldn't look at him. “It was wrong, Eli.”

“Felt right to me.”

She rubbed her face and a new strain sounded in her voice—a strain he'd caused. “Even if we weren't here, in this particular place, it still wouldn't make sense for us to get . . .” She floundered, letting her words trail off until she finally said, “Involved,” without a lot of certainty.

He, too, sat up. Her profile was stubbornly proud and arrogant. “You can deny it all you want, Ray, but we're already involved.”

“No way.” She turned her back on him.

“Yes.”
Sharper than he intended, Eli's voice cracked into the quiet of the area, sending two colorful birds into screeching flight. Ray started to stand, but Eli curled his hand over her shoulder, halting her retreat. Her denials infuriated him, and though he'd just been cursing himself for his actions, he thought about pulling her beneath him again.

When she was hot, she didn't deny a damn thing.

Before he could decide what to do, the skies opened with a torrent of rainfall that soaked everything in sight.

Ray had looked ready to belt him, but now she ordered, “Grab our stuff,” while scrambling over the ground to do the same. Within seconds, they were racing deeper into the trees where the rain had difficulty penetrating the thick, waxy foliage. Ray finally stopped beneath a large overhang of vines and jagged gray rock. Looking slightly dazed, she crouched on the ground, her forearms draped over her thighs. Her inky hair was plastered to her skull.

With a shake of her head, she sent water droplets flying. “Looks like you won't need the stream after all.”

Eli tugged at the neckline of his drenched shirt. “I guess this is the closest I'll get to a cold shower.” Maybe the dousing would bring both his ardor and his temper into check.

“It'll only last a few minutes.” The insulating drum of rain surrounded them, with only an occasional animal call to break the stillness. Ray didn't avoid his gaze, but her expression was as remote and cold as her voice. “If you want to take advantage of it, you'd better hurry.”

Such a credible act, but Eli didn't buy it. No matter what veneer she wore, Ray was every inch a woman. And as a woman, she wanted him. He saw it in her dark eyes, the faint trembling of her hands, and the rapid pulse in the base of her throat.

“I think I will.” Holding her gaze, Eli dropped his gear on the drier ground beneath the overhang. Reaching over his shoulder to his back, he snagged a fistful of his tee and yanked it off.

Ray's shoulders and jaw tightened. As if accepting a dare, she watched him.

Typically, men had little enough modesty to begin with, and Eli was still wearing the jeans. Yet, something about Ray's attention felt beyond sexual, making him keenly aware of his still-aroused body and her not-so-discriminating interest. He might as well have been buck naked, the way she affected him.

Extending his arms beyond the protective foliage and cupping his hands so that they filled with rain, Eli doused his face, his sweaty arms, and upper chest. The chill water trickled down his abdomen and over his belly, into the waistband of his jeans. It refreshed him—but didn't cool his lust one iota.

Ray's bold stare moved over him, following the water's path down his body. Her eyes grew heavy-lidded as she stared at his erection, now straining the damp material of his jeans.

Using both hands, Eli pushed his wet hair off his face. He was so hot, steam should have risen off him. He took the three steps necessary to have her within reach. “Next time,” he gritted out, “I won't stop. I don't give a damn if we're sinking in quicksand.”

That brought her gaze back to his face. “Get your shirt. The rain is slowing down already.”

He watched her turn away—then pause.

“And Eli?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn't ask you to stop this time.”

 

 

Once the rain ended, Ray kept a grueling pace for two reasons. One, she needed to occupy her mind so she couldn't think about Eli and how right it felt to be with him. It had felt right to be with Kevin, too, more right than anything else in her life at the time. She'd known him a year, been intimate with him from jump, and their worlds had meshed. He knew what she did, relied on her for that reason and more—and still she'd disappointed him, to the point he'd had to be away from her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She still missed Kevin sometimes because she'd thought once, long ago, that he was the only man to really understand her. In the end, she'd repelled him by being who and what she was—a woman that reminded him of times he wanted to forget.

They also needed to make up lost time, but despite the fast pace, she couldn't outrun her thoughts and worries. Damn Eli, for putting her through this. Why hadn't he just taken her there on the ground, giving in to the animal lust so that at least she'd know what to call it. This . . . this patience and consideration left her uncertain and confused, and she hated it.

Added to that was the seductive memory of being under him, feeling his tongue and hands, the power of him, and his own desire that rivaled hers.

She pushed harder, determined to block those sensations so she could concentrate.

Eli didn't complain, but he did keep a protective eye on her, insisting she take a sip of water every so often, careful to block the heavier brambles and branches. In one way his concern was a bother, but in another, it wasn't so bad. Not since her parents died had anyone dared to coddle her.

Buddy was sometimes protective, but in a different, grouchy and bossy way. He'd seen her in action and knew her ability to watch out for herself. Matt loved and respected her, but she never let the scarier side of her life touch him. He got good grades, kept his room clean, and did whatever chores she asked of him. That was more than enough.

Eli's attempts to protect her were downright dumb. She could make mincemeat out of him if she chose to. But it was also sort of . . . sweet. Ray grunted to herself. If he got much sweeter, she'd gain five pounds.

The sun hung low in the sky when they finally neared the small town. Thatch-roofed homes formed a semicircle around the courtyard.

His nose in the air, Eli asked, “What's that wonderful smell?”

Ray pointed to two women working over outdoor fires. “It could be the Creole bread or cinnamon rolls. They bake them in those steel drums you see, using coals from driftwood. You can also smell the citrus trees. But a few yards down, closer to the wharf where the fishermen are dumping nets of snapper and jack, the smell is something else entirely.”

Eli laughed. “Everyone is smiling.”

“Yeah. See those kids eating wild sea grapes? And the men hustling tourists to make a buck? It's a nice place.”

“It's busier than I expected.”

“Which is why it's a good thing you aren't wearing your watch, or someone would have already taken it and you wouldn't even have noticed.”

“And he would have grinned the whole time?”

“Of course.”

Just as Ray said it, a dark man approached with a huge smile, saying, “Cahn I geht a dallah, boss?”

Unable to discern the dialect, Eli lifted an eyebrow.

Ray laughed. “He wants money,” she said in an aside, then dug in her pocket, fished out change, and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

As the man left, she explained to Eli, “He called you boss as a sign of respect.”

“Which raises his odds of getting the money?”

“Exactly. They call almost everyone here boy otherwise, which is just their way, not a slur.” Eli continued to smile down at her, so she shrugged and added, somewhat defensively, “It's easier to pay and get rid of them than to fight it. The people here specialize in a certain type of hustler's shtick that's hard to resist, especially when you see them washing cars in the streets, toting luggage, anything to make some honest money . . .”