Once Jorge departed and they were alone, Rod set an even more punishing pace than he had on the long trek to the site. As if to emphasize his displeasure, he ignored her, his shoulders stiff, his expression disapproving.
Uncertain about what exactly had infuriated him, Cara tried every tactic she could think of to improve his mood. She chatted, she teased, she even tried flattery. She told him—quite truthfully, actually—how masterfully she thought he’d handled Rafael, when she’d been about to reveal too much. Every comment was met with stony silence.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she taunted finally, practically running to keep up with him. Despite her excellent condition, she was already panting from the stifling heat. If she didn’t get through to him soon, she was going to melt into a little puddle.
“Nope.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Don’t be obtuse, too. You know perfectly well you’re acting like a predatory beast whose mate has been compromised.”
“If you want to discuss Jorge Melendez, be my guest,” he said, no longer pretending to miss her point. “I don’t want to waste my breath. We have a long way to go.”
And that, it appeared, was that. He clamped his mouth shut and marched on, leaving Cara to struggle along as best she could. She spent the time muttering about irrational men and trying to catch her breath.
By midmorning the sun was blistering. Not even the canopy of trees could protect them from its sweltering heat. When they’d been walking for three hours or more, Cara could no longer hide her exhaustion.
“Rod, we have to stop for a few minutes.”
“We’ll break for lunch in another hour or so. We should be back at the river by then.”
“Dammit, I need a break now. Can’t you at least stand still long enough for me to catch my breath and take a drink of water?”
He stopped, but his entire stance radiated his impatience. Cara opened her canteen and drank greedily. Before she realized Rod had moved, he was jerking the canteen from her hand.
“Slow down,” he said gruffly. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I’m surprised you care.”
He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his damp hair, leaving it in a tangle of dark waves. His eyes met hers, then looked away. “Of course I care.”
“Then do you suppose you could try and explain why you’ve been in such a foul humor? Was it Jorge?”
He shrugged. “Jorge. Rafael. Maria. Take your pick.”
“You’re angry at them, so you’re taking it out on me?”
“You’re here.” He grinned ruefully. “Not a very good reason, is it?”
“Not especially, but probably to be expected.”
“Oh, and why is that, Freud?”
“You’re used to growling around like a wounded bear all alone. You’ve been able to indulge your moods to your heart’s content. Having me in your life is a new experience. You haven’t modified your behavior yet.”
That earned a booming howl. “Modified my behavior?”
She glowered at him. “You know what I mean. Two people who’ve been living alone have to get used to living together.”
His eyes narrowed at once, turning dark and forbidding. “That’s a mighty big leap you’re taking from one night in a tent to living together.”
Cara felt a slow burn of embarrassment creep up her neck. “Dammit, stop deliberately misunderstanding me. I’m not talking lifelong commitment here. For better or worse, you and I are living together for the moment. Got it?”
Instead of exhibiting relief, his expression turned even more grim. “For the moment?”
Cara’s patience snapped. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Make up your mind. When you thought I meant forever, you couldn’t put me straight fast enough. Now that I’m agreeing with you that this is temporary, you’re growling again.”
“It is rather confusing, isn’t it?” he said quietly. Then without another word, he capped the canteen and set off.
* * *
Rod knew he was being insufferable. The week or so since Cara had turned up in Mexico had been the most confusing time of his life. Every instinct inside him had shouted that he should resist her, for her sake as well as his own. This life-style suited him. She obviously hated it. Big cities gave him claustrophobia. She adored living in New York. She wanted a stay-at-home husband. He had wanderlust. It would never work. Everything about her drove him crazy. He should have been immune to her, but the irritating, captivating, contradictory woman had breached every one of his considerable defenses.
His body ached for her from morning to night. And he was absolutely terrified that sooner or later this danger would explode beyond cat-and-mouse games and that he wouldn’t be able to protect her. If he loved her and lost her, he wasn’t at all sure he could live with himself. So, he thought decisively, he simply wouldn’t love her. No problem. He wasn’t some simpering, lovesick teenager incapable of controlling his own emotions.
Instead, he growled at her, ignored her and generally behaved like an absolute jerk, when what he wanted to do was hold her and make love to her until their bodies were slick with sweat and their hearts were thundering in tandem as they had been the previous night. The tantalizing thought sent a rush of blood straight to his loins. He almost stumbled as the full force of his desire rocked him. So much for noble intentions and self-control.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She nodded and retreated, but not before he’d seen the flash of hurt shadow her eyes. He swore softly and stopped so suddenly she slammed into him. He turned and caught her as she staggered from the impact.
“Are you okay?”
Breathless, she gazed up at him and he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. With a proud lift of her chin, she was trying desperately to blink them away. One daring tear slid down her cheek. He brushed it away and felt the cold spot inside him begin to melt, along with his resolve.
“I’m sorry, princess.”
“Ever since you and I met, there have been entirely too many apologies floating around,” she said wearily. “Maybe we should think about why.”
“Because I’m a heel.”
“No, because we’re both trying too hard to be something we’re not.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze evenly, her blue eyes luminous. He sensed she’d made a decision about something and that he wasn’t going to like it. He suddenly felt as though the breath were being squeezed from his chest as he waited for her to finish.
“I think this is the wrong time and wrong place to even be thinking about a relationship. Maybe we’re even the wrong people. For now, let’s go back to being nothing more than two professionals with a job to do.”
“And you can do that?” he asked dubiously but willing to grasp at any straw that might get them out of this jungle alive and with their emotions intact.
“Absolutely.” Her voice shook only slightly when she said the word. He had to admire her courage. At the same time, he was not one bit sure he could do as she asked. His last resolution had lasted no more than sixty seconds.
“We’ll give it a try,” he said anyway.
Cara made an obvious effort to see that her decision worked out for the best. As she had earlier, she chattered away about everything from the macaws overhead to Donald Trump’s skill as a businessman. Her comments were enthusiastic, perceptive, intelligent.
Rod didn’t give a damn about any of it. In fact, he was so intent on watching the subtle sway of her hips, the spark of humor that lit her eyes that he missed the tree limb that had fallen and was hidden by brush. It hit him across his shin, sending him crashing forward. As he fell, a wrenching pain shot from his ankle all the way up his calf.
Cara was at his side at once, her expression filled with concern. “Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride,” he said with a wry grimace.
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She regarded him disbelievingly.
“Really. It’s nothing serious. I just twisted my ankle. I’ll be fine in a minute.” Perspiration broke out across his brow. The sharp pain had diminished now to a steady, teeth-gnashing throb. He took a deep breath and stood up, unconsciously shifting all his weight to his left foot. A surprising wave of nausea washed over him. “Let’s go.”
Cara was watching his face intently. “Sit down,” she ordered quietly.
“Come on, Cara. We don’t have time for this.”
“Fine. Go. You’re white as a sheet. You’ll probably make it about two feet before you fall flat on your face. I think I’ll just sit here and watch.” She sat down.
Irritation bubbled up inside him. He knew perfectly well she was right. He also knew they didn’t have time to waste. Tentatively he took a step on his right foot. An agonizing pain soared through him. He clenched his fists, sucked in his breath and took another step on his good foot. Then another. The bad ankle gave way and he felt himself pitching forward. Cara was there to break his fall. She helped him to the very limb that had brought about the accident. He sank down and leaned his back against it, his whole body quivering from the strain. He closed his eyes.
“Let me see it,” Cara said.
“It’s sprained, okay? There’s no need for you to examine it.”
“Oh, will you just shut up and hold your leg still?” She put a restraining hand on his calf. His ankle hurt so badly, he couldn’t even enjoy her touch. She untied his boot and gently removed it, then pulled off his sock. Rod didn’t even want to look. He knew the ankle was already swollen. He didn’t need Cara’s cautious probing to make a diagnosis.
“It doesn’t appear to be broken, thank God,” she murmured.
“I told you it was sprained.”
She reached for her backpack.
“What are you doing?”
“I have an elastic bandage in here. It may help.” With brisk efficiency, she opened the package and wrapped his ankle, while he stared in astonishment.
“You can close your mouth now,” she said finally, grinning at him. “Scottie insisted on thorough first-aid training, and Louise packs my supplies, I’m prepared for almost anything.”
She propped his leg up on their backpacks. “Keep this elevated. I have some painkillers if you want them.”
“I don’t suppose you have a bottle of Scotch tucked in there instead,” he inquired hopefully.
“Afraid not.”
“Then skip it. We might as well have lunch. By the time we finish, I should be able to walk again.”
“Forget it. You’re not putting any weight on that ankle today.”
“Cara, we don’t have time for me to sit around babying this ankle. We have to get back to camp, dismantle everything and meet that plane.”
“Fine. I’ll go. You can wait here, and when the pilot shows up, we’ll come back for you.”
“Are you out of your mind? I’m not letting you take off through this jungle alone. You’ll be lost in ten minutes.” He refused to voice his primary fear, that alone she would be a tempting target.
Her only response to his concern was to pluck a compass from her pack and hold it out in front of him. “Just point me in the right direction.”
“No.”
“Stop being such a stubborn, macho jerk.”
“When you stop being so bullheaded and irresponsible.”
Glare met glare. Neither of them backed down, but it was Cara who spoke next.
“It is not irresponsible to want to see that this job gets done. Just this once can’t you rely on me for a change?”
He noted that she didn’t deny being bullheaded. “You won’t be able to do it if you’re lost.”
“I’m not going to get lost,” she insisted, waving the compass under his nose.
Rod grabbed his own backpack and began yanking out the tins of food. He opened a can of tuna fish and handed it to Cara. “Eat. We’ll discuss it after lunch.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“Eat.” His voice rose ominously. Cara regarded him mutinously, but she took the tuna.
As they ate, Rod tried frantically to think of an alternative course of action. He didn’t think they should be separated, not with just one gun for protection. He was also forced to admit that there was no way he could walk any distance on his ankle at least for another twenty-four hours, if then. Despite his considerable imagination and experience, he couldn’t think of anything better than Cara’s plan.
He sighed heavily. “We’ll make a deal.”
Her eyes lit at once with interest. “What?”
“If my ankle’s no better in the morning, you can go on.”
“But we’ll lose half a day.”
“In the morning, Cara.”
She directed a piercing look straight into his eyes, but when his determination didn’t falter, she nodded.
“Now would you come here?” he suggested.
“What for?”
He grinned at her immediately suspicious demeanor. “Scared?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then?”
“We made an agreement,” she accused. “This is going to be a strictly professional relationship.”
“Did I say a single thing to suggest I had anything else in mind?” he said innocently.
“I don’t trust you.”
He shook his head sorrowfully. “Not a good basis for a professional relationship, princess.”
She frowned at the deliberate taunt and stepped to his side. “Yes?”
“Closer.”
With obvious reluctance, she stooped down. Rod felt only a fleeting instant of guilt as he captured her head and drew her closer still for a long, satisfying kiss. Her struggle was astonishingly halfhearted, her capitulation complete. But when he released her, she instantly began sputtering with indignation.
“You promised!”
He grinned. “Too late to protest, princess. You kissed me back. Besides, the temptation was entirely too great. I couldn’t possibly resist, especially in my weakened condition.” He tried to sound pitiful. She didn’t appear to buy it.
“Your weakened condition!” She hooted. “Give me a break. Your hormones would probably be active in the midst of an earthquake. A piddly little ankle injury isn’t going to keep you in check.”
He laughed. “If you know that, then it wasn’t very clever of you to get so close, was it?”
“Rod Craig, you are the most maddening man I have ever known in my life.” Despite her tone, he could have sworn her lips were twitching with laughter.
“I don’t doubt it. That’s precisely why you can’t resist me.”
The hint of laughter died. Her eyebrows rose at least a half inch. “Can’t resist you?” she growled. “I’ll show you how irresistible you are.”
She whirled around and stomped off, Rod’s laughter following her. He knew she wouldn’t stay away long. She’d forgotten her compass and her water and her backpack. No matter how infuriated she was with him, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave without those.
When two hours had passed, though, and she still hadn’t returned, he began to get nervous. He dragged the last of his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit it. His fingers trembled ever so slightly.
Damn! Why had he insisted on baiting her? Probably because he enjoyed seeing the way her blue eyes sparkled with indignation, the way her chin jutted out defiantly in her refusal to back down. Her spirited responses entranced him. But this time... this time what if they’d gotten her in trouble? She could be lost, or hurt, or someone could be stalking her, waiting to attack. The images were driving him crazy.
He dragged himself to a long, sturdy branch and began chopping at it with his machete. It was an awkward process from a sitting position. When it finally came free, he tested it to see if it would support his weight. He stood slowly and balanced himself against the makeshift cane. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.
It didn’t help. He kept seeing her frightened and alone, and all because of him and his deliberately provocative goading.
He struggled on, easily noting the route she’d taken because of the trampled brush. She couldn’t be lost. Surely even an amateur like Cara could have found her way simply by backtracking over the same trail. So where the hell was she? A shiver of dread ran down his spine.
When he first heard the rustling of leaves, he thought it was only a monkey swinging overhead. Even so, he paused where he was and waited, his senses alert. The noise increased, moving closer. Then Cara burst through the undergrowth, her face flushed, her hat askew. A relief as profound as anything he’d ever experienced rushed through him. He held out his one free arm and without a moment’s hesitation she ran into his embrace. Either she’d forgiven him or she was terrified.
“Oh, Rod.” The words came out in breathless gasps. His pulse raced.
“What is it?” he demanded at once, his heart lodged in his throat. “Are you all right? Is someone after you? Dammit, Cara, if anyone’s hurt you, I’ll kill them. I swear I will.”
He felt her narrow shoulders began to shake, and her whole fragile body trembled in his arms. His imagination ran wild. Guilt rampaged through him. He tightened his embrace and tried to soothe her. His comforting caresses only seemed to set off more violent trembling.
“Oh, princess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. I would have died myself rather than let anything happen to you. Please, it’s going to be okay. You’re with me now, and I promise I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”
“Keep going.”
His heartbeat slowed at the softly spoken words. “Keep going?” he repeated suspiciously. Her held her away from him and got his first good look at her expression. She was laughing, howling, in fact. Big tears were rolling from radiant eyes filled with mirth.
In Too Deep Page 12