Tiger Eyes

by Kimberly Nee

  A sharp crack and scuffle of leaves made her jerk upright. “Who’s there? Diego? I told you to rest!”

  No response. Just more crackling and snapping. Then, it faded into an eerie silence. Even the birds went quiet.

  The back of her neck prickled beneath its layer of perspiration, while her heart tripled its beat. Perhaps they weren’t alone on the island? Did she dare hope, or should she be terrified?

  The dagger’s hilt was warm as she curled her fingers about it and eased it from her belt. Silently, she rose up from her tree trunk and turned in the direction of the noise to peer through the thick foliage. If any wild animal was there, she couldn’t see it. Branches and leaves, and bursts of blooms made seeing anything more than a short distance hopeless.

  “Whatever it was, it’s gone,” she muttered, slipping the dagger back into place. Then, she slapped her hands against her thighs. “Very well. Standing about is doing little to find water. And now, that is the most important of my tasks. Everything else will wait. Thirst will not.”

  A hot sting drove up into Diego’s hip and he lurched awake with a groan. Damn it. It wasn’t some terrible dream. His back ached, his leg throbbed, and he couldn’t remember the last time his throat was so dry. His muscles stretched of their own accord and fire filled his right leg, bringing a rapid-fire string of oaths rushing to his lips. The Spanish words floated out toward the sea, swallowed up by the crash of waves as they broke on the beach.

  White sand stretched out before him, barren and desolate. The ocean beyond offered no comfort, either, as it was equally empty. Unbelievable. Left to die. For reasons unknown.

  He sagged back against the warm, smooth tree trunk. “It could be worse,” he muttered, gingerly prodding at his wounds. Gabby had done well in removing the last of the wood. Now he need only pray the fever plaguing him on and off for several days would vanish entirely as well.

  Gabby.

  His last memory of her was bittersweet, with much emphasis on the bitter. Of course, the sweetness—

  A wry smile lifted his lips. The sweetness was enough to make him forget about the fire in his leg for a moment or two. She had that effect on him.

  It’d been years since he’d last laid eyes upon her, and those years had been kind to her. She’d been but a girl of twenty summers—wild and spirited—and that hadn’t changed, it seemed. Everything about her was striking, from her wild fall of dark hair, to her eyes, which were the same deep blue as the summer sky at night, to the ease with which she assumed command. She was as able-bodied a captain as any he’d ever seen. Even at her young age, men obeyed her command and willingly accepted her as leader. She easily won over even the crustiest of salts and proved her worth time and again.

  Closing his eyes, Diego allowed himself to indulge in a bit of the past. Images flashed through his mind, each with greater impact than the last, and the final one made him groan aloud. She was built for sin and sensuality, and fully indulged in exploring the many pleasures of the flesh. There were nights when he wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees and thank God for making him a man.

  But those days were in the past now. He was not the same man he’d been five years earlier, nor was she that same fiery girl. That God brought them together to die made little sense, and he had not the energy to dwell upon it any longer.

  The sun rose high overhead, the heat tempered by the trade winds blowing in from the water. Diego wondered what had become of his crew. He remembered very little from the attack, couldn’t recall if the ship had been sunk or not. The only vivid image was the blinding pain from being speared by wood missiles. The rest was a murky blackness swirling in his mind.

  Branches snapped and he jerked around to see Gabby emerge from the jungle, her hair stuck to her forehead in wet strings and her expression decidedly sour. Her breeches, once white, were stained from sand and seawater, and her pale gray shirt was equally as disheveled. Loose laces allowed fabric to shift, exposing a pale shoulder. His body responded to the visual on the basest of levels, despite his reluctance to acknowledge it.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” she called by way of greeting, her expression brightening. “I found water.”

  The pit of his stomach dropped at the sight of her empty hands. “Yet you brought none?”

  “And how would you suggest I carry it?” she asked mildly, reaching out to clasp her hand into his. “Come. You will need to walk, but it isn’t far.”

  “Anything more than two or three steps is too far,” he grumbled, though he allowed her to help him to his feet. He set his teeth against the flare of pain, determined to ignore it as he draped an arm about her neck and leaned into her for that first step. He hated having to lean on her, but it would be sheer idiocy to let his pride take over. Not to mention, he wouldn’t get very far before falling flat on his face.

  She stumbled, cursing beneath her breath. “Take care, Diego. I am a giant, but not of the Goliath sort.”

  “You are hardly a giant,” he replied through gritted teeth, pushing through the burning pain to take another step.

  “Not compared to you, of course. But for most people, I am.”

  With each step, pain flared then receded, but did so with less fury. To his surprise, movement actually helped lessen the pain further. By the time they reached the edge of the trees, he was almost able to support himself, much to his relief.

  Dropping his arm, he motioned for her to go on. “I am well enough to walk on my own.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Are you so certain? A few minutes ago, you could barely stand.”

  “I am positive. Go.”

  A shrug. “Very well.”

  She continued on, shoving branches aside whilst he admired the way her breeches so snugly cradled her rounded bottom. Slim hips. Slim legs. Delectable little backside swaying ever so slightly with each step. She might dress as a man, but there was no hiding her womanliness. Of course, it did manage to direct his attention from his own discomfort. But still—

  Stop this madness, he scolded himself with a scowl. You are only punishing yourself.

  Just beyond where beach met jungle, a mountain of black rock rose sharply before them. Gabby grinned at him over her shoulder as she led him around to the southern side. Then, with a grand wave of one hand, she proclaimed, “Shelter.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought you found water?”

  “Oh, I did. But we certainly can’t spend many more nights on the beach. Or many more days for that matter. Worry not, I will take you to the water in but a moment.” She smiled proudly, gesturing to the mouth of the cave. “The perfect shelter.”

  The mouth of the cave wasn’t particularly high—three, perhaps four, feet from the ground. Nor was it very wide, either. At first glance, it looked more like a slit in the rock than a cave at all. “We will have to crawl in there. And why do I think another may have already claimed this as home?”

  Gabby shook her head at him as she crouched down to peer in, and waved him over to join her. “I’ve already looked. It is deserted.”

  He frowned as he walked to her. “That was foolish. What if it hadn’t been deserted?”

  Shrugging carelessly, she replied, “It was, so there is no need to concern myself with that.”

  Diego swallowed an annoyed sigh. Headstrong was too mild a description for Gabriella Markham. Impetuous. Impatient. Obstinate. Those were too mild a description for her as well. “You needs take care, Gabby. We know not what lurks on this island.”

  “Scold me later, Diego,” she retorted sourly, straightening up and pointing toward the center of the jungle. “Water first. You can’t tell me you aren’t at all thirsty. You’ve gone longer than I have without something to drink.”

  “Thirsty is not the word for it. Now, if you’d not mind, I’d rather not stand here and discuss it.” He gestured toward the trees with an impatient hand. “If you would lead the way.”

  Though it was shadier, the jungle was by no means cooler. It was steamier than the
beach, as the winds did not penetrate the lush jungle foliage. Gabby was sure-footed, angling west as they continued their trek.

  Each step drove a hot bolt of pain up into his hip, but he tried to ignore it as they pressed on through the trees. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so parched. His belly rumbled, the pangs almost as painful as his wounded leg, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in two days. Food would wait. Water would not.

  The rush of running water tickled his ears and brought a smile to his lips. He could almost smell the crisp coolness poking holes in the humid stickiness. The air seemed less dense, less heavy, cooler even, and it was as if the very nearness of water brought forth a resurgence of energy. Even Gabby seemed livelier, almost bouncing as she shoved aside a thicket of fern fronds and said, a hint of grandness in her voice, “Behold. Water.”

  The stream was narrow and rocky, with crystal water rushing around the short, jagged peaks of broken stones. It was the most beautiful sight and he groaned with a mixture of pain and appreciation as he sank to the cool sandy bank. He thrust a hand into the swirling surface. Icy cold and refreshing.

  Gabby dropped beside him and they each cupped their hands to lift the water to their parched lips. Delicious. Diego drank deep, refilled his cupped hands five times before he’d had enough. Gabby caught handful after handful, letting it spill through her fingers and drip onto her stained linen shirt.

  He cupped both hands beneath the water’s surface, letting it fill them with its coolness. A sharp jerk, and icy water splashed his face, washing away the layer of sweat and grime. If the stream was deep enough, he’d have submerged himself entirely and quite possibly never come out.

  He glanced over at Gabby, busily splashing her own face. Her dark brown hair was wild from the sticky air, pulled free from the leather thong tied at her nape. Wet tendrils curled at her temples, and a wet patch spread across her chest. He swallowed hard as she scooped up a handful of water and splashed it down her shirt.

  As if she felt him watching her, she turned, and there was no inkling of embarrassment as she said, “I am a shame to those who sail, wanting so desperately to be clean.”

  “Then I am as well.” He forced his gaze to remain locked with hers, instead of letting it travel downward, where the wet linen clung enticingly to the curves of her breasts. That was the path his eyes wanted to take.

  “Once we’ve eaten—” she scooped another handful of water to send it sluicing down beneath her shirt, “—I will see where this stream either begins or ends. Perhaps there is a lake or a pond.”

  His leg throbbing again, Diego nodded slowly. “Very well. I am going to go back and wade out into the ocean to flush my wound.”

  “Are you certain that is wise?”

  He nodded. “The salt in the water is good for healing.”

  Her lips pursed. “It is?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Very well.” She shook her hands dry and moved to catch him by the upper arm.

  Gritting his teeth against both the pain and the humiliation of relying so heavily upon a woman, especially Gabby, he allowed her to help him to his feet. He stifled a groan as he rose and fought to keep from leaning on her as they made their way back to the cave.

  “Perhaps…we ought…to rest…a bit…” she grunted, staggering as she eased him off her shoulder and he sank to the ground with a breathless groan.

  As she dropped down beside him, he said, “You’ve done enough, Gabby. I am capable of getting myself to the water and back.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Are you certain? I don’t know that would be wise.”

  “What could happen? I do believe things are about as bad as they can get.” He set his jaw and rose up on shaky legs. His belly rumbled over with a sickening splash and clammy sweat broke out over his back. Black dots danced before his eyes while the chattering of the birds faded into an indistinctive buzz. His tongue felt thick, sluggish, and he swallowed hard as bile rose in his throat.

  “Are you all right?”

  He waved away her worried expression. “I am fine. I will be back.”

  Her frown deepened, but all she said was, “Very well. I will gather up some coconuts and see if I can find something we can use to open them.”

  He nodded, the dizziness worsening until he was afraid he’d drop to the sand in a heap. The water seemed so far away, and he had to force his legs to move. Every step was a challenge as the sand shifted and squeaked beneath his feet, and he was grateful to reach the wet sand at the water’s edge.

  He dropped to his knees, panting as sweat rolled down between his shoulder blades as he shifted to sit. It took every ounce of effort to tug off his boots, and when they were off, he let them fall in a heap on the drier sand. Then, not caring if Gabby caught sight of him, he stripped off his breeches, tossed them atop his boots, followed by his shirt. He didn’t care to sleep in wet clothes.

  The water was warm and comforting, even as the salt stung the open wounds. It burned at first, but then faded, and his muscles relaxed. The dizziness receded a bit, though he still stumbled several times. The last time, his knees buckled and he fell forward, face first, into the surf. When that happened, he’d had enough. It was time to go back up. Besides, he didn’t like the fact that Gabby was left alone. True, they hadn’t come across any other forms of life, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. It was a large island, mostly vegetation, and there was no way to know what lurked in that vegetation. He was in no hurry to find out, either.

  Chapter Five

  The cave was not nearly as small as its entrance suggested. Gabby had to crouch low for the first few yards, but then the ceiling rose high above. Not only could she stand upright, but Diego should have no trouble, either. Even at his height, there’d be room to spare.

  The passageway was dark, of course, but inside the cave itself, light filtered down from another opening high above the cave floor. It was dry, protected from wind and rain, with a warm sandy floor and a natural shelf carved of jagged black rock. A small pile of coconuts sat on the floor just beyond where the cave opened up, and one smacked into the far wall with a solid thwock as Gabby fired it with every ounce of strength she could muster. Like the others before it, this one rolled into the shadows, still intact.

  She winced as a slow, steady burn spread through her shoulder and her knees ached from bearing all her weight as she knelt. Still, she gripped the coconut in both hands, lifted it above her head, and hurled it against the wall with lessening strength. “Bloody hell!”

  “Having a bit of trouble?”

  She jumped at Diego’s unexpected voice and twisted to face him. He leaned up against the wall, visibly pale, but obviously trying hard to mask it by nonchalantly folding his arms and crossing his legs at the ankles.

  “Nothing I do works,” she sputtered, swiping up another coconut to hurl against the same damn useless wall. “I’ve tried breaking them on rocks, with rocks, and nothing. Bloody. Works!”

  A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he limped over to take the coconut from her hand. “Show me what you’ve tried.”

  She groaned. Her arms ached with so many failed attempts at splitting through the tough shells, and she’d screamed her throat almost raw with frustration. Thankfully, the air wasn’t blue with the amount of swearing she’d done—some of it most creative. The last thing she felt like doing was throwing one more bloody coconut. “I’ve tried everything.”

  Diego limped the rest of the way into the cave and sat in the middle of the floor. “Hand me one of the rocks.”

  “Are you certain you’ve the strength?” She rolled the coconut toward him. He glared as he took the coconut and she realized her error. She’d inadvertently insulted him. “I mean, I’m sure you do, but—”

  “Give me that rock,” he interrupted, gesturing toward the pointed shard of rock she’d been using to saw through the shell, without success.

  “I already tried—”

  “Give it to me.”

&nb
sp; “But I already—”

  With a low, irritated growl, he snatched the rock from her hand and she fell silent, sitting back on her calves to watch as he went to work on the coconut. Diego ignored her, frowning as he bent over the coconut, looking up only when her stomach rumbled loudly. One raven-colored brow rose slightly, and she managed to grin. “I’m hungry.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” he replied dryly before turning his attention back to the stubborn coconut.

  Pressing the angled side of the rock against the shell, Diego lifted a bigger rock, and swung downward. Gabby closed her eyes before he made contact, sure he was going to smash his hand, but when no howl of pain echoed through the cave, she opened them as he made a second downward arc.

  The third blow had less force behind it. The fourth even less. Diego sank back against the rough stone cave wall, paler still, and breathing hard. Sweat shone against his stark skin as he let the rock simply fall from his grasp.

  “I started. You finish,” he grunted between pants, and closed his eyes.

  Lurching up onto her knees, she swiped up his discarded rocks, repositioned, and swung. It took several more strikes, then joy filled her. She tore away the rough brown husk and was almost giddy as clear coconut milk bubbled through the crack. She couldn’t help her proud smile, though it faded as she turned toward Diego. His eyes remained closed, and he was paler still. His breath came in short, shallow pants and, at first, he appeared to have passed out. Then, the hand resting on his left tight balled into a white-knuckled fist, and he muttered something in Spanish that sounded vaguely like an oath. At least, she thought it was an oath, as it sounded angry enough, but she didn’t understand what he said. The few Spanish phrases she’d learned from him so long ago were most definitely not oaths.

  Another glance over her shoulder, and sympathy washed over her. The Diego she knew was strong and proud, as masculine as a man could be. To see him broken, pale and weak made her heart ache in a way it never had. That she could do nothing to ease his suffering only made it worse.