Amazon Heat

by Leigh, Melinda

  Amazon Heat

  By Melinda Leigh and Rayna Vause

  2 years ago

  Driven by grief to find a cure for cancer, Elizabeth DeMarco left Logan Spencer to accept a position on a research expedition to the Amazon rainforest. Kidnapped by guerrillas, she was saved by a secret all-female civilization, the last of the ancient Amazons. But Elizabeth discovers she’s traded one form of captivity for another.

  Today…

  Logan never stopped searching for Elizabeth. While consulting in the remote Brazilian interior near where she was kidnapped, Logan suffers what should be a fatal fall. Near death, he’s collected by the Amazons and magically healed. Elizabeth is the first person he sees as he wakes.

  But there’s no time for a joyful reunion. The Amazons’ mystical medicine is rapidly changing Logan. They want his DNA and plan to take it—and then kill him. Logan and Elizabeth must escape before dawn or Logan—and their second chance at happiness—is doomed.

  20,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  In 2012, we’re committed to bringing you an even wider variety of stories. With our January releases, we celebrate the diversity of the genres Carina Press has to offer. We’re publishing books across a variety of romance and non-romance genres, including mystery, cyberpunk, fantasy, male/male romance, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, science fiction, historical romance and more.

  I hope you’ll try a book in a different genre and spread the word to your friends and family that Carina Press is a destination publisher for quality books across genres.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

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  Dedication

  To Caridad Piñeiro and her double dog dare

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Prologue

  Two years ago

  Dr. Elizabeth DeMarco struggled to loosen the cord that bound her wrists. Overhead, the jungle canopy was too thick for moonlight to penetrate. Hot, damp darkness pressed down on her as she trekked deeper into the Amazon rainforest, away from camp, away from the other scientists and graduate students, away from help. Her eyes focused on the thin flashlight beams that illuminated the narrow trail.

  “Move,” one of her mercenary captors growled from behind her. He gave her a hard shove. She stumbled but managed to right herself before she face-planted on the muddy earth.

  “My team will find me, you know. When I didn’t return to camp, I’m sure they started a search and notified the police. Just let me go. Do you really want the attention my disappearance will bring to your boss’s illegal logging enterprise?”

  The man she’d labeled “pretty boy” just laughed. His dark, amused chuckle lifted the hair on Elizabeth’s nape. “We do not fear the police, but it’d be quite inconvenient if they discovered our routes through the jungle.”

  She swallowed and tried a different tack. “Look, even if I did go to the police, which I wouldn’t, you’d be long gone by the time anyone ever considered investigating. Think about it. I don’t know your names. I can’t produce any drugs. Kidnapping me is more trouble than it’s worth.”

  He snorted. “Do not worry. The search for you will be short. Your body will be found quickly. Many bad things can happen to a woman alone in the jungle. There are predators everywhere.”

  Panic pounded in Elizabeth’s chest as the threat hovered.

  How the hell was she going to get out of this?

  She shouldn’t have wandered away from the expedition team. But, as usual, her excitement over the variety of plant species she’d collected had gotten the best of her good judgment. Maybe for the final time. Her chances weren’t looking good.

  Her gut clenched. She’d never see Logan again. And with the way they’d left things between them…

  Regrets could wait. She studied her rugged band of captors. Thank God she’d sent her assistant back to unload the samples. If she hadn’t, these mercenaries would have two hostages instead of one. Stumbling through the dark, she tugged at the knots binding her wrists. If only I could loosen the ropes.

  She shook her face to dislodge a mosquito. How long had they been marching? From the thirst and the aches in her legs, it seemed like many hours. Elizabeth’s eyes and ears strained, listening for the sound of help, searching for a chance to escape. Deep inside she knew she was on her own; well and truly trapped. Even if she managed to elude these mercenaries, she had no supplies, no navigational equipment. She’d never find her way back to the camp site. This deep in the Brazilian interior, she could wander the rainforest for days and never encounter another human being.

  They entered a clearing. Moonlight burst through the trees, and the mercenaries stopped.

  She felt the man behind her step forward, press against her. “We camp here for the night. After we set up camp we have some fun. Yes?”

  “Never.” Bravado aside, Elizabeth’s insides turned icy. They both knew there wasn’t much she could do to prevent the men from doing whatever they wanted to her. Eleven to one weren’t good odds. “I’d rather die.”

  “Patience. We’ll get to that. If you keep me and my men happy, I let you live a little longer.” He ran his tongue up the side of her neck.

  Elizabeth gasped and jerked away in disgust. “You may as well kill me now. You make me sick. I’ll be damned if I let you or any of your band of criminals touch me, you bastard.”

  She wasn’t prepared for the swift backhand. Pain exploded in the side of her face. Elizabeth went down hard. She tasted blood in her mouth as rage and fear ripped through her. She didn’t think, just reacted as she pushed up, ramming her shoulder into his crotch. He dropped to his knees, holding himself.

  Satisfaction swamped her as she scrambled to her feet. She whirled to run and collided with a six-foot wall of muscle. Dark greasy hair hung to his shoulders. His face was sun browned, dirty and craggy, and the look in his one good eye made the metallic taste of panic rise in her throat.

  She whipped her bound hands up in front of her and tried to use them like a club. She slammed them into his chest, but it was like hitting a boulder. Pain sang up her arms. The giant man in front of her wasn’t even fazed.

  Before she could regroup, someone grabbed her hair from behind. Fire surged through her scalp. Elizabeth grabbed her ponytail with both hands to ease the pressure.

  “Bitch, you’ll pay for that.” Pretty Boy dragged her to the center of the camp site where they were building a small cooking fire and slammed a fist into her stomach. She crumpled to her knees, struggling to breathe.

  “Someone needs to teach you a lesson.” He stood. A glint of excitement lit his cruel eyes. His foot drew back to kick her and he simultaneously dropped a hand to unfasten his belt buckle. Elizabeth curled in on herself and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain, but it never came.

  Thud. Something hit the dirt next to her.

  She opened her eyes and stared into the dull, lifeless gaze of Pretty Boy. A gleaming arrow tip protruded from his chest.

  Seconds later the world erupted into chaos. Arrows rained down on
the clearing. They seemed to come from everywhere all at once. The frantic shouts of the mercenaries pierced the night. Elizabeth heard their guns firing aimlessly into the darkness. Oh God, what’s happening now? She inched closer to Pretty Boy’s body, intending to use it as a shield. Almost as fast as it began, the cacophony ended. Silence fell over the clearing. Even the jungle went quiet. Elizabeth didn’t move. She held her breath, trying to look just as dead as the mercenaries that surrounded her.

  On the other side of the clearing, a tree moved. The branch lowered as if it were some sort of open-air elevator. Once the limb touched the ground, a woman stepped off and strode toward Elizabeth. She was six feet tall and built like a cartoon superhero.

  “It is safe now. You can stand up.” The woman extended a hand and waited with calm, patient eyes. Elizabeth contemplated the offered hand, not sure if she should trust it. This woman was part of the group that just wiped out an entire squad of drug runners. Elizabeth didn’t stand a chance of defending herself against them. Still, so far they had spared her. Taking a risk, she reached out and clasped it. The woman pulled Elizabeth to her feet as though she weighed nothing. Releasing Elizabeth’s hand, she put two fingers to her lips and blew a shrill whistle that sounded eerily like the call of a jungle cat. Moments later, foliage rustled and four more women were silently lowered to the ground on tree-limb platforms.

  This can’t be real. Elizabeth put a hand to her head. Could she have a concussion?

  “Gather any useful supplies then bury these bodies. Quickly.”

  The four women stripped the dead of ammunition and weapons. They formed a circle and extended their hands with their palms facing the ground. All four began to emit a golden glow. They lowered their arms and touched the ground. The jungle floor shifted and a depression formed in the earth. When it was deep enough, the woman tossed the dead into the hole, handling the bodies of full-grown men as if they weighed no more than sacks of flour. Again, they formed a circle and put glowing hands to damp earth. This time the ground entombed the remains. Fresh moss and underbrush bloomed across the dirt, covering all traces of the battle and burial.

  Elizabeth covered her gaping mouth. Her knees wobbled. This had to be a dream.

  “Come. It isn’t far.” The women surrounded her, herding her toward a narrow game trail. Exhausted, Elizabeth had no choice. She found herself swept along with their rapid strides. Her body sagged and her mind reeled. Who were these women? Where had they come from?

  The trail made a ninety-degree turn at the base of a sheer cliff. Elizabeth turned to follow the path, but the women stopped. The leader stepped forward and raised her hand. Again, a soft gold glow emitted from her palm. She touched the rock. With a rumble, the cliff face split, opening like the Red Sea for Charlton Heston.

  “This way.” She gestured for Elizabeth to precede her down a long narrow corridor. Blood dripped from a gash on the woman’s arm.

  Numb with shock, Elizabeth fell into step behind the others. She spoke over her shoulder to the leader. “I can tend that wound for you. You don’t want it to get infected.”

  “No need. I’ll be fine.”

  Minutes later, they emerged into a lush valley. The leader waved Elizabeth onward as she again took the lead. Elizabeth watched in amazement as the gash on the woman’s arm closed, the skin knitting in seconds.

  “Whoa,” Elizabeth gasped. “How did you…?”

  “The valley protects and heals us.” The woman headed toward a path that cleaved the thick foliage.

  What am I walking into? Elizabeth turned to look back down the passageway, but the opening in the rock had disappeared. She was trapped! The surrounding trees settled back into place as though they’d leaned aside to let them enter. She rushed back to the sheer cliffside. She swept her hands along the rough rock wall, but found no sign of the corridor. No! She pounded her fists against the stone. Nothing moved.

  There was no way out.

  Chapter One

  Present day

  Dr. Logan Spencer loved bones. Bones were his life. But bones in this region of the Brazilian rainforest held life-altering power over him, the kind of power reserved for middle-of-the-night phone calls and policemen on the doorstep.

  In the muddy, freshly turned earth, bones rested in filthy heaps. A human scrap yard. The organic scent of decay and earth clogged the anthropologist’s nostrils and unsettled his stomach as he picked his way over the edge of the mass grave. At least, he told himself it was the odor that was raking through his gut.

  Logan squatted on the perimeter of the grave and steeled himself. The moment pressed against his chest like the sharpened blade of a machete. Until he analyzed these bones, it wasn’t real. Life could be whole for one more hollow breath. She was still alive, somewhere.

  “The villagers found this grave a week or so ago.” His guide and South American University liaison, Professor Paulo Cruz, spoke in precise, heavily accented English.

  “They didn’t rush to report it, did they?”

  Paulo only lifted a shoulder. Time was fluid here. Plus the locals likely wanted to thoroughly loot the site. Logan couldn’t blame them. Subsistence living was a bitch.

  Rain began to fall in a solid sheet. No preambling drizzle. Just whoosh.

  On that cue, Logan flipped up his hood and got to work. Tropical weight nylon molded to his body in seconds as he squinted through the deluge and counted the visible skulls in the mass grave. The shallow pit held eleven skeletons. He raised his voice over the torrent of water hitting foliage. “We’ll have to transport the remains to the University to properly date the bones.”

  He could estimate a range for the time since death. Since the people who buried the bodies and the villagers who discovered them had already searched the site, there wouldn’t be anything of value, like coins, jewelry or weapons, to help date the remains. But looters didn’t take everything. Logan gently sifted through the wet soil with his fingertips, uncovering a rusted metal zipper and a few black plastic buttons. Bits of clothing still clung to femurs and ribs. “These remains aren’t ancient. Really rough guess? These bones have been here between one and ten years.”

  She could be here.

  “We will need to call the authorities, my friend.” Paulo nodded gravely.

  He had accompanied Logan into the forest numerous times over the past two years and knew exactly what Logan sought each time he gathered a team and headed into the remote Brazilian interior under the pretense of searching for an uncontacted tribe. What he sought…and what he feared he’d find. It wasn’t aggressive hunters with spears he worried about. Logan was afraid he’d uncover the very thing he sought. The hollow feeling inside him expanded.

  He continued to stare at the remains laid out before him. She couldn’t be here. Cast into this hole as though she meant less than nothing. He’d know. If she were this close, he’d feel her.

  The top of a boot poked out of the mud. Looked military. In this tropical climate, villagers didn’t wear boots. He glanced over at the boy, clad in the typical scrap of cloth and body paint, who’d brought them to the site. Logan poked at a tattered piece of dark green fabric lodged under a skull. Guerrillas? Mercenaries? Either was possible in this region plagued by illegal logging and drug traffic. Either could have been responsible for Elizabeth’s disappearance.

  As if the ultimate blame didn’t rest squarely on his shoulders.

  Unable to restrain himself any longer, Logan shifted bones. Rain washed the remains clean as soon as he pulled them from the ground. An hour later, eleven pelvises were lined up in the mud, all male. She wasn’t here. He should be relieved, but the empty feeling didn’t dissipate.

  The scientist in him knew the odds that Elizabeth was still alive were astronomical. But his heart couldn’t let her go. Maybe it was time to accept the fact that, body or no body, he would never see her again. Not in this life.

  “The villagers invited us to spend the night. We can send someone to contact the local government in the mor
ning.” Paulo interrupted his thoughts.

  Logan’s throat tightened, scraped raw with disappointment, sorrow and the guilt he’d carry to his own grave. If only…“I need a few minutes alone.”

  “Of course.” Paulo backed away. “I’ll leave the boy to guide you back. Be careful, my friend. Remember the villagers’ warning. Neither loggers nor traffickers will welcome our presence here.”

  Logan didn’t—couldn’t—answer.

  His friend switched to Portuguese and issued instructions to the youth. Unconcerned with the downpour, the slim, brown-skinned child dropped into a deep squat at the edge of the clearing to wait. Water plastered his straight black hair to his head. The rest of the team, a handful of anthropology interns and a few laborers hired to haul gear and cut brush, followed Paulo down the trail.

  Logan squeezed a handful of mud. Water pooled around the remains. Was Elizabeth out there, somewhere, alive? Or were her remains still hidden in the vast jungle? One way or another he needed closure. He’d find her body and he’d bring her home if he had to spend the rest of his life digging in muddy holes like this one.

  If only their last moments together hadn’t been a fight. If only his last words to her hadn’t been so cruel. If only she’d loved him more than her research. But life didn’t have a rewind button, and Logan’s regret was as thick as the mud in this grave.

  The sounds of the others retreating faded. Logan climbed out of the hole and stood at the edge. The rain shut off as abruptly as it had begun. Steam rose from the gravesite and hovered over the bones, drifting eerily in the rapidly fading light.