In the Arms of a Hero

by Beverly Barton

  When his mouth sought her breast, she cupped his head, holding him against her body, encouraging him. As he laved her breast, he slid his hand inside the loose waistband of her borrowed slacks.

  She shuddered as sensations unlike anything she’d ever known vibrated inside her.

  Quinn massaged her naked buttocks, his big, open palm caressing. He knew she was unraveling under his passionate attention. But this little taste of her wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all.

  Not thinking about the consequences, urged on by his desire, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. When he came down over her, she looked up at him and he saw the same passion that rode him so hard reflected in her eyes. She was as aroused and needy as he.

  Quinn hovered over her, his eyes feasting on her exposed breasts. She reached for him, her fingers hesitant.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she told him.

  He stilled, his rapid breath warm on her naked flesh. “Are you having second thoughts about our making love?”

  “No, no second thoughts,” she said. “It’s just that I’m unsure about my ability to please you. I’m not experienced at this.”

  “Just looking at you pleases me.” He kissed her belly. Her breath caught in her throat. “Just touching you pleases me.” He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Actually I’m glad you’ve had only two or three lovers instead of two or three dozen.”

  She quivered under his touch. To halt his further exploration, she clasped his hand. “You don’t understand, Quinn.” She had to tell him, didn’t she? He had a right to know just how inexperienced she was. “I haven’t had two or three lovers.” She hesitated when she noted the surprised look on his face. “To be honest, I haven’t had even one.”

  She felt his withdrawal before he actually shoved himself up and off the bed. He glowered down at her where she lay, vulnerable and trembling. Suddenly she realized that she shouldn’t have told him. She should have let him discover the fact for himself. Apparently he had no desire to initiate a virgin.

  Victoria pulled her shirt together, then buttoned it. After easing to the side of the bed, she stood. Quinn watched her as she walked toward him. The closer she came the more tense his muscles grew, until he felt as if he were made of stone. His body ached with need. He wanted this woman and he wanted her now. His mind raged against him for letting things go so far. Why hadn’t he listened to his common sense and kept his relationship with her strictly business? But somewhere deep inside him, in an unknown place, he experienced a purely male exhilaration at the thought Victoria was a virgin and she wanted him to be her first lover.

  “Does my being a virgin change things between us?” she asked.

  He held up both hands in a gesture for her to stop, to not come any closer. “It’s my fault things went as far as they did,” he told her. “I knew better than to… I don’t have sex with my clients. Getting involved with a woman tends to muddle a man’s brain and affects his actions when there’s danger. When a guy lets his body do his thinking then he’s in trouble.”

  “You don’t want me?” She gazed pleadingly at him, needing his reassurance. “If I weren’t a virgin and I weren’t your client, then would you make love to me?”

  He balled his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching for her. Didn’t she have any idea just how much he wanted her? God, she was completely inexperienced if she didn’t realize that he’d walk over hot coals for the right to take her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so much. Maybe never.

  “I want you,” he admitted. “But you and me—” he flipped his index finger toward her and then back at himself “—are an event that isn’t going to happen. I’m a real bad boy. My type makes a lousy first lover for a girl like you. If you’ve saved yourself all these years, then you’re obviously waiting for prince charming. Believe me, I’m no prince.”

  “Then I didn’t make a fool of myself? You don’t think I threw myself at you?”

  Despite the way Quinn’s body still ached with desire, he managed a weak smile. “I’m the one who made a fool of himself, not realizing that you’re a virgin princess and I’m just a horny toad who can’t be changed into a prince with a magic kiss.”

  “I’m embarrassed,” she told him. “I don’t know what it is about you that attracts me so, but every time I look at you, I get weak in the knees. And the crazy thing is that, until today, I didn’t even like you.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Yeah, I know. To be totally honest, I didn’t like you all that much, either, so there’s no need to be embarrassed. Let’s just chalk up what happened to unwanted sexual attraction and the dangerous situation we’re in.”

  Victoria hugged herself as she rocked back and forth on her bare heels. “I suppose we should try to get a little more sleep tonight.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn glanced across the room. “You take the bed. I’ll toss a pillow and blanket on the floor.”

  “You should take the—”

  “Don’t argue with me. Go to bed.”

  She nodded. “Just to set the record straight—you may not be prince charming, but you’re not a toad, either.”

  He waited until she crawled into bed before he removed one of the pillows and one of the blankets. After taking the items to the far side of the room, he prepared himself a makeshift pallet and then settled in for what was left of the night. Restless and still partially aroused, he tossed back and forth on the hard floor.

  He had to get her off this damn island and back to her father in Texas as soon as possible. If the rebel soldiers didn’t wind up killing him, then there was a good chance his desire for Victoria Fortune would.

  Victoria left La Luz reluctantly, despite the fact that she knew she couldn’t do any more for little Bella than the women of the village. Without the equipment in a prenatal unit, only God could keep the tiny infant alive. So the most Victoria could do, under the circumstances, was pray.

  From now until she returned home, her top priority was doing whatever was necessary to keep Quinn and her alive. That meant a trek down the mountain and through the treacherous jungle. The roads, even the minor dirt trails, would be more likely pathways for the rebel soldiers. Another part of surviving meant obeying Quinn’s orders, no matter what. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t argue with his authority, ever again. Nothing and no one was going to interfere with their reaching Gurabo as soon as possible.

  Their journey down the eastern slope of Mt. Simona began smoothly. And despite the clouds to the north, the day was sunny. Quinn found a descending spiral trial and followed it for several miles, then the path led to an open road, which he wanted to avoid. So he chose to hack a new path through the jungle. Having to clear a walkway as they traveled slowed them down considerably.

  The monkeys and birds, common to the jungle, eluded Victoria’s gaze while she concentrated on keeping pace with Quinn as they became immersed in the mountainside forest. Occasionally a small lizard darted across their path or large morpho butter-flies fluttered by, their iridescent blue wings like glass in the sunlight.

  They took frequent breaks, for which she was grateful, and knew those rest stops were for her sake and not Quinn’s. He seemed to possess superhuman strength and an inexhaustible supply of energy. She supposed both were a result of years of experience and routine training to keep in top physical shape.

  With the sun’s position in the sky announcing high noon even before Quinn checked his watch, Victoria began searching for a place where they could stop. As if she had conjured up the spot, a clearing appeared in front of them. Upon closer inspection they found the ruins of an old building. Numerous stones lay in haphazard disarray around the few feet of the structure that remained intact. Grass, heavy vines and small shrubs appeared to be doing their best to reclaim the crumbling mass.

  She waited patiently while Quinn checked the area for unwelcome snakes. One wall, now only a couple of feet high, seemed fairly sturdy when Quinn tested it
, so they removed their backpacks, propped their rifles against the wall and sat on the uneven ledge. They drank from their canteens, but since neither of them were hungry, they decided to wait until later to eat.

  Victoria excused herself and went several feet into the thicket. She glanced around hurriedly, then went about her business. Just as she pulled up her pants, she heard a noise.

  “Quinn?” she whispered.

  No response. But there was the noise again, as if someone or something was scampering over the underbrush. Oh, God, what if it was a rebel soldier? She had to get back to Quinn as fast as possible.

  “Quinn!” This time she screamed his name.

  When she whirled around, intending to return to the clearing, the sound grew louder. Whatever it was, it was coming right at her. Where was Quinn? Why hadn’t he seen the intruder?

  Her heart fluttered uncontrollably as thoughts of Quinn lying dead on the ground flashed through her mind. Had a rebel soldier or perhaps more than one sneaked up on Quinn and knocked him over the head? No, that wasn’t possible. Quinn would never have been taken unawares.

  Suddenly the thing—the large, hairy creature—broke through the thicket and came directly at her. She screamed, the sound echoing. She started to run, but realized the beast was too close, she’d never outrun it. Dammit, why had she left her rifle back at the ruins? Her gaze darted in every direction, seeking a means of escape. Without giving her actions a second thought, she rushed to a nearby tree and began an awkward climb. As a kid, she had scaled trees with her brothers and generally run amuck on the ranch, every bit as much of a little hellion as her brothers had been. But it had been years since she’d climbed a tree.

  Her foot slipped. She slid down, down, down. When her butt forcefully hit the ground, she cried out in pain. Her eyes widened in horror as all two hundred pounds of raging boar zeroed in on her.

  “Quinn!”

  The gun blast obliterated her last cry for help. The one shot hit its mark. The animal dropped dead only inches from her feet. She released the breath she’d been holding.

  Quinn inspected the huge hog, then bent and offered Victoria a hand. She accepted his offer, allowing him to help her to her feet. He draped the M-16 over his shoulder, then pulled her to his side.

  She clung to him, knowing she would always find a safe haven in his arms. Her heartbeat still raced at breakneck speed. Perspiration dampened her face. “That thing could have killed me. Look at those tusks!” Tears of relief misted her eyes. She lifted her trembling fingers and grabbed his shirtfront.

  He glanced over at the dead animal. “Wild hogs can be dangerous.” He kissed her lightly on the temple. “But you don’t have anything to worry about now.” Quinn soothed her, running his hand up and down her back as he made comforting sounds deep in his throat. “Shhh, hush. It’s all over. You’re safe.”

  “Where were you when I cried out? I was afraid something had happened to you.”

  He encompassed her within his embrace, hoping she would feel secure. As he stroked her tenderly, the tremors in her body began to subside and she curled herself around him like a tabby cat around its master’s leg.

  “I’d gone off to do the same thing you were doing,” he explained. “When I heard you scream, I came as quickly as I could.” He glanced meaningfully at his unzipped pants.

  Oddly enough Victoria found the sight of his open fly hilarious. She chuckled softly several times, then burst out laughing. “Oh, Quinn. You were just off watering the grass and I was afraid rebel soldiers had slit your throat.” Her laughter escalated until it became an almost hysterical cry.

  Quinn realized that she couldn’t stop laughing, that she was experiencing the aftereffects of panic. If he didn’t end her uncontrolled outburst, she’d soon start hyperventilating.

  He could slap her, he could shake her, or he could do the unexpected and take her by surprise. He preferred the latter. He couldn’t imagine any circumstances that would cause him to lay a hurtful hand on her.

  Pulling her intimately against him, he ravaged her mouth, silencing the laughter. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue, exploring the welcome warmth inside. She moaned. The last remnants of fear and panic drained from her body and mind. He felt the release as surely as if he were a part of her.

  He ended the kiss. She gazed soberly up into his concerned eyes. Lifting her hand to his face, she caressed his beard-stubbled cheek. “My hero.”

  “Don’t go from hysterical to silly.” He shoved her gently out of his arms. “Come on. Let’s get moving. We can still cover quite a few miles before nightfall.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Are you going to leave that thing there?” She glanced at the feral hog. “I mean, can’t we use it for food?”

  “We can, if you want to eat it raw.”

  “Oh. I’d forgotten. No fires. Smoke can be seen for miles.”

  “Yeah, and gunshots can be heard for miles.”

  “Damn! Do you suppose—”

  “It couldn’t be helped.” He pulled free of her hold. “Let’s make tracks, honey.”

  Without another word, she followed him into the clearing. They put on their backpacks, replenished with food and water in La luz, then she lifted her rifle from where it rested against the wall. Quinn led the way, slicing a path through the jungle, heading down the mountain toward Gurabo.

  Had someone heard the rifle shot when Quinn had killed the boar? she wondered. Would they encounter trouble before they camped for the night? Or would trouble wait for tomorrow?

  Seven

  How could it be morning? Victoria wondered. It was still dark, wasn’t it? She could use another two or three hours of sleep. But Quinn hurried her, pointing out the ominous gray clouds overhead when he told her it was six-thirty. He explained that if they hurried, they might outrun the rain that was heading this way.

  “The rain’s coming in from the north and should get here any time now. Since we’re going east, we should see sunshine most of the day.”

  Grumbling to herself, she roused quickly and jumped to her feet. Considering the situation—spending the night in the jungle and not knowing if another band of rebels would appear out of nowhere—they had both slept fully clothed and with their boots on.

  “We should make the Rio Gurabo by early afternoon and hopefully be able to beg, borrow or steal a boat of some sort,” he said.

  “If?” She’d definitely heard an implied “if” at the end of his sentence.

  “If our luck holds out and we don’t have any problems today.”

  “I assume there’s a village near the Rio Gurabo since you intend to borrow a boat to go downriver.”

  “Actually there are several villages along the Rio Gurabo, so if we don’t find a boat at one place, we can make our way to the second and even the third village, if necessary. And if we confiscate a boat, we could be in Gurabo by tonight and off this damn island by morning.”

  “Sounds too easy, doesn’t it?”

  “Shut your mouth, woman!” Quinn teased. “No negative thoughts.”

  “We will make it to Gurabo tonight. We will make it to Gurabo tonight.” Victoria transformed the sentence into a chant.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Ravenous,” she replied. “But I’d skip food for the rest of the day if I could only have a bath.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He surveyed her rumpled clothes, stained with perspiration and dirt, then glanced down at his own disheveled state. He rubbed his open palm over the three days’ growth of beard darkening his face. “We’re both pretty scruffy, aren’t we?”

  She ran her tongue across her teeth, then made a disgusted face. “My teeth feel like they’ve got mold growing on them.” Spearing her fingers through her short hair, she groaned.

  “Eat some fruit and rinse your mouth with water,” he suggested. “That’ll help some. Once we get to Gurabo, you can soak in a tub of hot water for as long as you’d like.”

  “Ah, that sounds like heaven.�
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  Quinn opened his backpack, removed a couple of apples, then tossed one to her. “I’ve been saving these. You’ve been such a good girl, I think you need a treat this morning.”

  After catching the apple, she brought it immediately to her mouth and took a huge bite.

  Quinn ate hurriedly, then tossed the apple core into the brush and wiped his hands on his pants. After opening his canteen, he downed a swig of water. While he waited for Victoria to finish her breakfast, he withdrew the compass from his pocket and checked directions. He had a sixth sense when it came to directions and had never gotten lost—not ever. But he always backed up his instincts by regularly checking his compass and studying a map of the area.

  “I’m ready.” Victoria put on her backpack, picked up the M-1 and marched over to Quinn. “Let’s move out.”

  “Who’s giving the orders here, Ms. Fortune?” He grinned at her. With her face totally void of makeup, her hair stringy and her baggy, borrowed clothes soiled, Victoria looked like a grungy little girl who’d been outside playing all day and was ready for an evening bath. But beneath those loose pants and shirt he knew was the body of a woman—a woman he wanted. “Stay close and be ready to jump if I give the order.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Victoria fell into step behind him, all the while enjoying the view of his big body as he stalked through the jungle, clearing a path for her. Soon blue skies spread out overhead, with only an errant white cloud here and there. As Quinn had predicted, they’d left the dark clouds and rain showers higher up in the mountains.

  As they progressed steadily down the side of the mountain, the slopes became steep and the path narrowed. On her left side, she could reach out and touch the mountainside and if she made one false move to the right, she could fall over the edge to her death.