She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his closed mouth.
His hands fisted in the mossy earth. “You can’t seduce me into agreeing with you.”
Quirking a brow, she kissed her way from his neck along his jaw to the jut of his chin.
“Never gonna happen, Vanessa.”
She slid a hand up his neck and lightly scraped his skin with her nails. “Diego?”
He grunted.
“I’ll allow you to hike, but if you start to look sick or weak, we’re going to stop for the night. And I don’t want you to give me any trouble about it.”
“Or else what? You think just because you’ve taken self-defense classes that you’re capable of wrestling me to the ground with that puny little body of yours? I don’t think so.”
“Something even more effective. If I decide you’ve had enough and need to rest, then I’m going to sit down and refuse to continue.” The words made fear coil in her throat. “And if I don’t hike, then you’ll have to stop, too, because you’d never leave me stranded in the middle of the jungle.”
Then again, what if he did leave her?
Stupid, Vanessa. He’d never do that. Never, not in a million years.
But what if he did?
In a flash, she was on her back in the squishy, soggy moss, Diego over her. He stabilized himself on his left arm, allowing his right arm to settle limply on her ribs below her breasts. The rain dripped off his cheeks onto her.
His dark eyes were flinty and the scowl seemed permanently fixed to his lips. “Throwing down the gauntlet, hmm? Only problem is you don’t believe your own bluff.”
She swallowed hard as her heart squeezed with panic. Where was the gooey center inside all those muscles and guns?
He shook his head, his expression softening. “One of these days, you’ll have it figured out that I’m not going to leave you in a lurch. How about I keep reminding you until then, deal?”
“Deal.” It made her see red that she couldn’t let go of the fear, but there wasn’t anything she was going to do about it today. That die was cast a long time ago.
The therapists she’d seen over the years all agreed it went back to the sudden loss of her mother when she was two. According to her dad, she’d dropped Vanessa off at daycare, then was hit by a car that had run a red light. It had taken her a long time and a lot of growing up to articulate how frustrating and terrible it was that her emotional well-being was being held hostage by an event and person she had no memory of.
There simply wasn’t anything about her mom for her to hold on to. Just a handful of pictures and stories, along with the imprint of loss on her heart and the awareness at too early an age about the fragility of human connection.
The events of the past couple days had issued a stark reminder of that fragility.
Diego’s exhale fanned over her face. “You know why we need to keep pushing on, why I’m being such a jerk about it? Because my crew has extra vials of antivenom and I could use a few more doses to be sure I’m okay. And I need to get you somewhere safer than this jungle now that my shooting arm is compromised. A group of armed professionals can protect you better than me alone.
“And if we don’t keep moving, we won’t make it to a computer in time to stop the submarine sale because we’ll have to spend a second night in the jungle, surrounded by friggin’ pit vipers. In the rain. And I am sick and tired of the rain. I want to get a roof over our heads and dry clothes for you because I can see right through your damn shirt and it’s driving me crazy.”
It took her a second to process what he was saying. Then her arms flew across her chest, covering herself. “Oh, God. Seriously?” Apparently she’d been too concerned with staying alive and keeping up with Diego’s pace to give much thought to the perils of hiking through the rain in a white T-shirt. “That’s not so bad, I guess. I’ve got a bra on.”
And he laughed. Raised his head to the sky and let loose with a chuckle that made his shoulders shake.
She uncrossed her arms and stole a peek. “My bra’s see-through, too? Why didn’t you tell me this morning before I changed clothes?”
“I thought maybe it wouldn’t rain.”
She swatted his good shoulder. “We’re in a rainforest!”
He chuckled again and it stole her breath, how handsome he was. His face was strikingly masculine. Not perfect—his broken nose had seen to that—but powerfully rugged. Gorgeous. She reached up and touched the laugh lines on his cheek.
“If you get fatigued or start to feel ill, we have to stop. I’m not going to let you run yourself into the ground. All we have out here is each other, and the same way you’re protecting me, I need to protect you. That’s my job.”
In his eyes, she recognized the same kind of affection blooming in her heart. He stroked her hair away from her face. Then he kissed her, slow and deep, without any of the desperate urgency of the first time.
He left her mouth to kiss and nibble along her neck. As before, the world around them narrowed until all that remained were the two of them and the swirl of energy and need stirring between them.
And she thought, maybe, just maybe, it was time to start trusting him to take care of her no matter what. If he said he was well enough to hike, then he was. Because, lying on top of her, he certainly felt potent, his body solid and thrumming with vitality.
She arched her chest and neck toward his exploring mouth. “I still haven’t figured out what your weaknesses are.”
He smoothed a hand to her hip and locked her more tightly against his hard length. “Really? Someone as smart as you are and you haven’t figured that out yet?”
She tucked her hips, notching the juncture of her thighs around his arousal, rubbing on him in a way that had him hissing through his teeth against the skin of her neck.
“That doesn’t feel like a weakness to me,” she purred. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
Laughter reverberated through his chest. “We have to get moving.”
He lifted off her and stood, then took her hand and helped her up. She snuck a second look at her horrifyingly translucent shirt while he scooped up the backpack. How had she not noticed that? Had it been equally see-through after she dove in the lake? The question heated her face all over again.
“Vanessa,” Diego said in a thin, worried tone.
She looked up in time to see his eyes roll back as he collapsed.
Chapter 11
Diego roused almost instantly after hitting the ground, but he was disoriented. His skin was cool and ashen, his eyes half-lidded. At his side, Vanessa was torn between wanting to scream or cry, but couldn’t manage either.
Stroking his hair, she repeated his name over and over, but his eyes wouldn’t connect with hers. He briefly muttered something that sounded like Spanish, but his words were too slurred for her to catch.
His bitten arm didn’t look any worse than a few minutes earlier, but his breathing was coming in shallow gasps and she thought his tongue looked swollen.
What she needed was to try to connect with Diego’s crew. They’d know what to do.
The disposable cell phone and satellite phone were easy to find in the small front pouch of the pack. The cell didn’t have any service, but it had phone numbers. He’d said to only use the satellite phone as a last resort. She glanced at his prone, semiconscious body.
A situation couldn’t get more urgent than this.
None of the phone numbers he’d called the night before were labeled with names, not that their names would mean anything to her. She knew of Alicia and Ryan, but that was all.
Deciding it didn’t matter which of his crew answered the phone, she dialed the first number she found. She was trembling so bad, she pressed the speaker to her ear with both hands. On the third ring, an automated voice mail kicked
in. “This is Vanessa Crosby. Diego’s hurt. We’re somewhere near the Rio Nobu and I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know the number of this phone, so I hope you do. Please call me, and hurry.”
Diego’s breathing had turned into labored wheezing. Muttering a prayer, she scrolled through the cell phone for the next number. Again, it went to voice mail. By the third voice mail, all she bothered to say was, “Help. Diego’s hurt.”
She pressed the scroll button on the cell phone, but no more phone numbers appeared. Stunned, she stared blankly at the display screen. She had to do something, but what?
Out of options, she dialed Panama’s emergency hotline.
A male dispatcher answered. Relief dropped her to her knees next to Diego.
“Yes, hello. I need help. My...my friend and I are hiking and he was bitten by a pit viper. I gave him four vials of antivenom and he was fine. But then he collapsed and he’s having trouble breathing. I need to know what to do. Help me.”
“Tell me your name and the name of your friend.”
“Jordan. And my friend is Carlos.” She’d blurted the first names that came to mind, thinking that was what Diego would do given the line wasn’t secure.
“Is Carlos conscious?”
“He goes in and out.”
“What’s your location?” the dispatcher asked.
She pressed her fingers to Diego’s neck, searching for a pulse. She found it and felt a little better. “Nobu territory.”
“Do you have GPS coordinates?”
Her heart plummeted. “No. All I know is that we’re near the Rio Nobu. But there’s nowhere to land a helicopter and there aren’t any roads. So I don’t know how you’re going to get to us soon enough to help him, but you have to try.”
“Listen to me, Jordan. You need to stay calm. I’m alerting rescue services, but it takes time to get a helicopter in the air. You’re going to have to help him. My name is Mario, and I’m going to walk you through it. First, I need you to give me some details about the antivenom and his symptoms.”
She did the best she could, but staying calm wasn’t an option. Diego’s face had turned a shade of blue.
“Look in the first aid kit and see if you can find an EpiPen,” Mario said. “I think he might be having an allergic reaction to the antivenom.”
She dumped the pack and unzipped the kit. Her roommate in college used an EpiPen once after accidentally eating a bite of shellfish. Vanessa had watched, but she’d been too freaked out by the idea of someone sticking themselves with a needle to pay much attention to how it worked.
“Got it,” she said.
“Good. Pull the blue safety release, then grip the body of the pen like the handle of a tennis racket, the orange end down. That’s the side with the needle. You’re going to give him the shot in his outer thigh, right through his pants. Get in position to push it into his leg at a ninety-degree angle.”
Being careful not to put any pressure on Diego’s chest and lungs, she straddled his torso backward to get the best angle, all propriety gone. Who cared if he came to and the first thing he saw was her butt in his face—at least that would mean he came to.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Vanessa said into the phone.
“Remember, ninety-degree angle. Hold it there and count to ten. Go!”
Gritting her teeth, she jammed the orange end against Diego’s thigh and waited.
It was the longest ten seconds of her life. After the time was up, she tossed the EpiPen aside and scrambled off him. “Done.”
“Give it a few seconds.”
Gradually, Diego’s breathing grew deeper, his eyes clearer. He looked her way and she thought perhaps he recognized her, but then he spoke in slurred, rapid Spanish and watched her like he expected her to respond. She had a fairly good grasp of the language, but her mind was spinning too fast to concentrate and she only caught a few words that didn’t make any sense.
She held a hand over the phone so the dispatcher wouldn’t hear her whisper, “Diego, it’s me. It’s Vanessa.”
He licked his lips. “I said that in Spanish, didn’t I?” His voice was scratchy and weak.
Relief made her wilt against him. “Yes. What did you say?”
“I said my dad used to tell me, don’t let a woman know she was right because you’ll never live it down. I think this might be one of those times he was talking about.”
Tears crowded her eyes. She held the phone to her ear. “Mario? He’s awake again. Thank you.”
“I heard. That’s a good sign. Let him rest where you are for at least twenty minutes, then I’m going to ask you to get to the river so our rescue team can locate you. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Ending the call, she pinched her lips together, stifling a full-out sob.
She threw her arms around Diego and rested her cheek on his arm and shoulder, careful not to put any pressure on his chest.
He smoothed a hand over her hair and settled it on her back. “What happened to me?”
“You had an allergic reaction. The dispatcher said that’s a problem with antivenom sometimes.”
“Guess you’ll never think of me as a superhero again.”
“You’re better than a superhero.”
“Aw, now, I bet you use that line with all the guys.”
Joking was a good sign, though his voice was still weak and his eyes had fluttered closed. He was going to be okay. She hugged him tighter. “Rest now.”
“Good plan. Just for a minute or...” His words drifted off.
She eased his arm away from her back and stood. Mario told her it’d take a while to arrange help and that she should let him rest. They were close enough to the river that she could run to the bank at the first sound of a helicopter.
Just in case help came before she could get Diego to the water, she grabbed an orange emergency rescue tarp from the aid kit and jogged to the bank. She secured the ends to the branches of two trees. There was no way the helicopter could miss seeing it.
The trees teemed with sounds of birds and the river gurgled by, but the jungle was otherwise still. She scanned the sky anyway but saw nary a dot on the horizon. With a quick prayer that help arrived soon, she beat a hasty path back to her dozing hero.
* * *
Hands on his chest shook Diego awake.
Groaning at the throb of pain throughout his body, he fluttered his eyelids open. Even that small movement ached. Vanessa leaned over him.
“How long have I been out?”
“About an hour, I think. You have to get up now.”
That was easy for her to say. He could count on one hand the number of times in his life he’d felt this beat up. Like he was the coyote in those cartoons and he’d fallen off a cliff and landed flat on his back only to be run over by a passing car while the roadrunner pecked him on the head.
He’d readily given in to Vanessa’s demand that he rest. She was right that he hadn’t been in any shape to protect her. Still wasn’t, given the pounding in his head and how heavy and achy his limbs were. The density of the surrounding trees made the spot he lay within relatively secure, all things considered.
He took a minute to register the urgency that had been in her voice.
Though his muscles and joints screamed, he levered up to an elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to get to the riverbank so the rescue copter can find us. I hear it coming.”
That had him bolting upright. “Say that again?”
She slung the backpack strap over her shoulder and staggered under its weight. “I called all the numbers I found for your crew, but no one answered. I thought you were going to die so I called the emergency hotline. The dispatcher arranged for a helicopter rescue, and I hear it coming, so we’ve got to move to the river. Now.”
“How did it know where to find us?”
“I told the dispatcher we were along the Rio Nobu. Come on.” She tugged his arm by the wrist.
No way. No freaking way.
A spike of adrenaline shot him to his feet. Dispatching a rescue helicopter involved numerous alerts to the fire department, hospitals, police, aviation authorities—the works. Hell, the Panama army probably knew the score at this point, which meant the Chiara brothers knew their location, too, as well as whichever ICE agent was the rat.
“Don’t go near that river, Vanessa. Gimme the backpack.”
Vanessa looked confused and scared. “You don’t understand. Mario, the dispatcher, arranged for our evacuation. We have to go right now.”
“Listen to me. It might not be safe. Give me the pack. I need to make a call.”
She looked longingly in the direction of the river but handed it to him without a word. He dug through it for the satellite phone and dialed the ICE attaché office number from memory.
To Yazmin, the office manager, he said, “This is Agent Santero. I need some information fast. Has an emergency rescue helicopter been dispatched in the last hour anywhere in Panama?”
He could hear her fingers clicking on the keyboard. “The broadcast for a remote area medical rescue went out, but a helicopter hasn’t been dispatched yet.”
Diego dropped the backpack. He swung the strap of his rifle around and gripped the weapon, finger near the trigger. His arm throbbed, but he didn’t have a choice except to fight through the pain because he was a lousy shot with his left hand.
“Sir, is there anything else I can do for you? Do you want me to tell Agent Dreyer that you called?”
He moved the phone away from his mouth and turned to Vanessa. “Grab the pack and get behind me.” To Yazmin, he added, “Better not tell Dreyer, but cancel the chopper broadcast, would you? That was bogus. I’ve got to go.”
He ended the call and shoved the phone in a pocket.
“What’s going on?” Vanessa asked.
“That’s no rescue chopper. Our location’s been made.”
Tempted Into Danger Page 13