Amazon Heat

by Leigh, Melinda

  “Yes.” Areta nearly spat the word out through clenched teeth. “But as I said before, the male is severely damaged. It may not even survive the transfer.”

  “I think that’s for me to decide.” Her eyes locked on Areta. “I am the queen.”

  The muscles of Areta’s jaw twitched.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to assure Phoebe that Logan wasn’t a quitter, then hesitated. No. She wouldn’t reveal their relationship. Too risky. Who knew what the queen would deduce from that information. Better to disagree with Areta. That always seemed to please Phoebe. “If we can get him to the falls, he’ll survive.”

  “And without the healing waters?”

  “I cannot save him.” Elizabeth’s chest clenched, but she forced a casual shrug. “If you want this male, it’s the falls or nothing. As a doctor, I naturally want to cure my patient, but, as always, I defer to your judgment, Your Majesty.”

  Please, please, let this gamble pay off.

  The queen was still for three quiet breaths. “He must be kept alive and whole. I grant permission for the male to be submerged in the Quedas Sagradas, the sacred falls.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Elizabeth heard Areta’s horrified gasp but ignored it. No time to waste. No doubt there’d be a fallout with the warrior from this confrontation, but Elizabeth would deal with Areta’s threat after Logan was out of immediate danger.

  She rose from her chair, gave the queen a brief bow and strode from the room. Closing the door to the queen’s office she leaned against it, momentarily light-headed.

  Logan had a chance.

  “Respectfully, Your Majesty, no man has ever been permitted to be healed in our falls.” Areta’s argument was audible through the heavy wood doors. “The waters of Quedas Sagradas will be tainted by his presence.”

  “You know my reasoning, Areta.” Elizabeth heard the edge in the queen’s voice.

  “But—”

  “Enough! Insubordination will not be tolerated. You would be wise to remember your rank and that you hold it at my discretion.”

  “Yes, My Queen.” Areta’s voice dripped with ice.

  “We need this male.”

  Elizabeth didn’t dare breathe. Saving Logan’s life commanded her attention, but she needed to learn the queen’s motivation in saving him. Amazons did nothing on a whim. This deviation from the norm must be of vital importance to the tribe. What did they have planned for Logan?

  She crossed a wide corridor, leaving the administrative offices and entering the hospital wing. A commotion in the emergency ward spurred her forward.

  She broke into a run. None of that would matter if he’d already died.

  “He moved.”

  Elizabeth released the air from her lungs. She paused at Logan’s side and rested her hand on his forehead, his flesh warm and solid beneath her palm. His chest rose and fell in a regular, if slow, rhythm, but every inhalation was accompanied by a rattling wheeze. Her hand moved to his wrist as she checked his pulse. He was hanging on, but she doubted he’d wake up in his condition. Ever. “Could’ve been a reflex. Regardless, we must hurry.”

  Mari ducked into the hall to summon litter bearers. Returning, she took her place opposite Elizabeth.

  “His fingers. They curled, kind of squeezed. And his left eye may have opened briefly.” Mari’s eyes glittered as she adjusted the clean white sheet draped over Logan’s lower body. “Can you imagine even attempting to move with such dire injuries? It would be a feat for an Amazon. But for a human? I cannot comprehend the strength of such a male.”

  Elizabeth assessed his readiness for travel. Splints immobilized his limbs, and a cervical collar held his neck steady. The blood and dirt had been washed from his skin, and his wounds had been dressed. But his color was grayer than when he’d first arrived. “You’ve taken excellent care of him.”

  “It is my pleasure to do so.” Mari stroked Logan’s powerful shoulder.

  Elizabeth touched her assistant’s forearm. “He isn’t a pet, Mari.”

  “I know.” Mari’s olive skin flushed. “I have never seen a male outside of books. He is fascinating.”

  “Never?” Elizabeth counted Logan’s respirations. Each breath was shallower than the last.

  “Never.” Her assistant’s head dropped. A wistful expression crossed her face. “I have never left the valley, and breeding males have not been kept in my lifetime.”

  “What do you mean—” Elizabeth’s question was cut off by footsteps in the hall. She did not want to be overheard pumping her assistant for information. And Mari would likely be punished for providing it. Refocusing on Logan, Elizabeth tucked a blanket over him and swept the damp hair off his forehead. She wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around his arm, closed her eyes and fought tears as she inserted the stethoscope’s earpieces. Please. Let me have some luck. Just this once.

  When she opened them, the same hunting party that had brought Logan in earlier stood by the door. The leader nodded to Elizabeth. “The queen insisted.”

  Elizabeth inflated the cuff and placed her stethoscope on the inside of his elbow. Guards. No matter. At this point, she’d take whatever help she could get.

  Logan’s blood pressure had dropped dramatically.

  “Let’s hustle, ladies. We don’t have much time.”

  Chapter Four

  Logan drifted in a haze of agony. Each breath brought a fresh sword slicing through his chest. The soft surface upon which he rested dipped, and pain knifed white-hot across his abdomen. He focused on the voices that surrounded him, especially the one that sounded like Elizabeth.

  He commanded his legs to move, to follow her voice, but his body didn’t respond. Not a muscle moved. Fear edged into pain.

  A distant rumbling grew, swelled to a thunderous roar. The sound drowned out the voice.

  No. He struggled to hear her.

  His body tilted, and he had the strangest feeling of being submerged in tepid liquid. Neither hot nor cold, but womblike in the way it encompassed him. It flowed over his feet and legs, then swirled around his torso. Up to his neck. Higher. He struggled to lift his chin above the surface, but to no avail. His body was too broken to respond.

  “Are you sure?” Elizabeth’s shout reassured him, but the question in her tone did not.

  “Yes. You must trust me.” Another voice, full of confidence and authority, like a grade school principal, answered.

  Trapped in his lifeless body, Logan was unable to struggle, unable to yell or protest as panic raced through him. Liquid closed over his face. He held his breath for mere seconds before it filled his mouth, flooded his throat, tasting shockingly of honey with a hint of orange. As he sucked the liquid involuntarily into his lungs, fear ebbed when it should have swelled. Instead of the expected oxygen deprivation, a sweetness enveloped him inside and out. His body tingled as if a mild, painless electric current surged through him. Logan felt bones meld and organs shift with tiny zaps and sizzles. A jolt of energy shot up his spine to his head. Warmth spread through his skull, then back down, diffusing into his torso and limbs.

  His upper body was lifted. Liquid poured from his head and shoulders. He shivered at the shock of cool air on his wet skin.

  “Please. Please. Wake up.” A hand cupped the back of his head. “Come on.”

  As the fluid receded from his body, so did the pain. He opened his eyes and squinted against the brightness. Sunshine? He exhaled. Water poured from his mouth. The first painless breath of air swelled his chest. He’d either died or someone had started one hell of a morphine drip.

  He ordered his fingers to move. They obeyed. He was no longer paralyzed. Not just morphine then. But the screaming pain was gone. He didn’t know where he was or what was going on, but his situation was definitely looking up.

  “What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he opening his eyes?” Elizabeth’s voice filled his head. He definitely wasn’t in hell, because an angel floated over him. Well, maybe not an angel. An erotic memory of her naked breas
ts swaying above his face flashed into his mind. Still, she had sacrificed her entire life, including their love, to finding a cure for cancer. Surely that amount of selflessness deserved a ride on the ultimate up escalator.

  Logan licked his lips. Heaven tasted like oranges.

  “It’ll take a day or so for him to recover his strength.” The voice of authority again. Who is that? he wondered.

  He opened his eyes and blinked away the thick liquid that clung to his lashes. Everything was blurry, including a dark head surrounded by a golden halo. A moment later his vision swam into focus.

  “Elizabeth!” he whispered. All the emotions he’d kept under lock and key for the last two years sprang free.

  He didn’t hesitate, he just reached for her, catching her by the neck and pulling her down to him. Nothing mattered more in that moment than kissing her, touching her. Every second of horrific pain he’d endured to get here—to get to her—was worth it.

  His mouth brushed hers with near disbelief. Yes. It was Elizabeth. Her lips were just as soft and warm as the last time he’d tasted her. He licked his way into her mouth and sank deeper. She opened in primal response, hot and wet and willing. The sweetness of her that had haunted his dreams overwhelmed the orange aftertaste of the water. His tongue delved. Hers answered the call, engaging in a mating dance that mimicked what Logan’s body wanted, to be joined with Elizabeth once again. As he savored her, his groin swelled to painful proportions.

  Yes, this was definitely heaven.

  “What’s he doing? Stop that!” The yelling, barely discernible over the thunderous roar of water and the blood rushing in his ears, diverted his attention.

  Without releasing his hold on Elizabeth, he let their lips part. Logan shifted his gaze to the side. It wasn’t a halo around her head. It was a golden cloud. Far above them, sparkling water gushed from a rock cleft and fell straight into the opposite side of the pool in which they floated. It shimmered like sunlight as if lit from within. A group of women, armed and dressed as hybrids between Xena the Warrior Princess and Pocahontas, stared at him from the bank. The tallest one stood in the center, her forehead encircled by a thin golden band.

  A queen? What the—? They must have given him good drugs. He hoped that when the medication wore off Elizabeth didn’t disappear, as well.

  He eased the pressure on her neck, allowing her to stand, but kept a firm grip on her arm. He wouldn’t lose her again. He squeezed his eyes tight to clear his vision and reopened them. Nope. The bizarre vision remained. A group of model-tall women, all long bare legs and firm breasts, dressed like extras in a high-end fantasy porn flick. As far as hallucinations went, it could be worse.

  He swiveled his head. The sweet taste in his mouth dried up instantly.

  Through the iridescent mist, the business end of an arrow pointed straight at the dead center of his chest.

  Elizabeth knelt on the rocks at the edge of the sacred pool, one arm supporting Logan’s head and shoulders, their lips mere inches apart. So close, his breath still warmed her face. She ran her tongue over her lips, relishing the taste of him. His hand, looped over her nape, was hot as a brand, and she ached to feel it roam over her skin. Heat bloomed deep in her belly as she gazed into his eyes, dark with passion. Only Logan could make her blood rush like hot magma through her veins like this.

  My God, he’s alive.

  “Let go of her at once.” Alarm laced Areta’s voice.

  Elizabeth caught the lieutenant’s movement in her peripheral vision. Threat replaced the joy surging through her heart. She placed her free hand over Logan’s heart and pushed gently against his bare chest, maintaining eye contact. His lips moved, as if he were going to speak. She gave him a small shake of her head and hoped the Amazons didn’t notice.

  “Thank you, Areta, but I’m in no danger.” Elizabeth shifted her gaze to the queen, who stood on the bank, flanked protectively by the six warriors who’d carried Logan to the falls. “He was just, er, thanking me. He must be an American. And he’s probably confused.”

  Queen Phoebe nodded. “Areta, you may stand down.”

  The lieutenant lowered her drawn bow, but her eyes continued to pierce both Logan and Elizabeth with hostility.

  Elizabeth turned back to Logan.

  “I’m Dr. Elizabeth DeMarco,” she said before Logan blurted out her name and revealed their relationship. Beneath the heat of desire, understanding flickered in the deep blue of his eyes. He remained silent. Thank God he wasn’t just a pretty face. “Do you know your name?”

  He cleared his throat. “Logan Spencer.” His voice was hoarse.

  Disaster averted, Elizabeth took quick stock of his physical condition. She’d only seen the falls used a handful of times. As long as the Amazons were within the valley, minor wounds healed almost instantly. The healing waters were reserved for only the most serious of circumstances, but she had never seen them used for a condition as bad as Logan’s.

  Unfortunately, the magic falls had no effect on the tribe’s disease.

  Her probing fingers found no gash or swelling on the back of Logan’s head. Her palm swept down his six-pack, still partially submerged. No bruising. Her gaze traveled the length of his body. His ankle had straightened, and whoa, so had another extremely impressive part of his body. The sheet that had draped Logan’s body had floated to the bottom of the pond. His massive erection stood out of the water like a soldier reporting for duty.

  Elizabeth moved her body to shield Logan from view. A quick glance shore-side told her no one had seen. She leaned farther into the water and fished for the sheet, drawing it up over his lower body.

  “Is it safe to remove him from the pool now?”

  “Yes. Quedas Sagradas has made him whole.” Queen Phoebe’s eyes roamed over Logan’s muscled body. The greedy gleam in their black depths raised goose bumps on Elizabeth’s wet skin. Why was Phoebe so obsessed with Logan?

  Logan struggled to sit up but fell back. The queen snapped her fingers. The warriors waded into the pool with the litter. They hesitated, eyes darting to the solid planes of Logan’s heavily muscled chest.

  “Oh, good grief. He can’t even move,” Elizabeth said, impatient, as she slid waist-deep into the pool. Mari followed, ignoring the hostile glances of the other women. Elizabeth applauded her assistant’s growing independence, though she knew it made Mari even more of an outcast among her tribeswomen. As if being a slave wasn’t bad enough.

  With Mari’s help, Elizabeth maneuvered Logan onto the stretcher.

  She beckoned to the warriors and they came forward to take Logan from the water and carry him down the path that led back to the caves. Elizabeth followed, one eye on the queen as she watched the procession. Phoebe looked at Logan with pride and satisfaction, as if she had just purchased a prize stallion. What was she planning?

  “Yes. He will do nicely.” Phoebe clasped her hands in front of her chest. “He looks to be of excellent stock.”

  The hairs on Elizabeth’s neck quivered. Stock? Mari’s words replayed in her head. Breeding males have not been kept in my lifetime.

  They couldn’t mean…? Elizabeth glanced at Mari, but her assistant’s eyes were focused on the ground. Questions would have to wait until they were alone.

  Elizabeth had attributed the word choice to difficult translation between English and the tribe’s native language, but she was suddenly afraid the word kept was all too accurate.

  Logan’s gaze sought and found Elizabeth, striding at his side. Over her head, the thick canopy was a virtual ceiling of green. No sign of sky anywhere. To his right, a solid rock wall reached skyward. “Where am I?”

  “In a hidden valley.”

  “Are we still in Brazil?”

  Elizabeth’s mouth thinned. “I’m not sure. Somewhere along the border between Brazil and Peru is my best guess.”

  “Are these women what I think they are?”

  She paused, then sighed. “Yes. I believe they are the lost Amazon tribe of Greek mythology.�
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  Logan’s mild state of shock cushioned the news. “Am I dead? Alive? Certifiable?”

  “Alive. Definitely alive.” Her tone softened and the corners of her mouth lifted in a sad smile. “It’ll take a day or so for you to recover your strength, but you’re going to be just fine.”

  The women carried him through a cleft in the rocks that formed a long fissure about six feet wide. A minute later, they ducked through an opening in the rock wall and entered a cave. Only this was no ordinary cave.

  A wide chamber acted as a foyer. Instead of the wall torches Logan would have expected, sconces illuminated the interior, glowing with a golden, fluorescent-like light. As they entered each section of tunnel, one of the women touched the wall and the sconces lit.

  “Motion sensors?” he asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No. The Amazons are connected to this valley with some sort of telekinesis.”

  Multiple corridors branched out through the rock. His escorts turned left. After fifty feet or so, the hall opened into a wider chamber lined with medical equipment.

  Logan’s crude stretcher was placed on a wheeled gurney. Elizabeth’s shy, slender assistant covered him with a dry sheet. He scanned the room, his brain not willing to fully accept the bizarre sight of modern hospital machinery inside the rock chamber. The six women hesitated.

  “It’s okay. You can go,” Elizabeth assured them. “I’m in no danger.”

  The warriors stared at her in disbelief.

  “Really. Men are not inherently dangerous.” They weren’t buying it. He could feel tension building in the cave as Elizabeth tried another argument. “Look, he can’t even stand up. And Mari is here.”

  The leader, the only blonde in the group, cast an uncertain glance at Logan, then nodded. “All right, but yell if you need anything. I’ll leave a guard outside the door.” The Amazons filed out but left the door open.

  “Thank you.” Logan noticed that Elizabeth did not bother to deny the need for protection. Perhaps the guard’s presence wasn’t just for her safety.