Blooming in the Wild

by Cathryn Cade

  He pulled her down a little farther and nuzzled at her breasts with his face, finally turning his attention to one. He flicked it with his tongue, then swirled the wet tip around her diamond-hard tip, and then, when she was about to whimper, licked the nipple into the wet heat of his mouth and suckled her, hard.

  He enjoyed both her breasts at length and then fumbled between her legs again. Bella didn’t realize that he was donning another condom until he grasped her hips and pulled her down onto his rigid cock.

  She planted her hands on his chest and arched her back, letting him take her, until she sat on his groin, filled with him. It hurt a little—he was big, and their first joining had been fast and rough.

  She looked down at him, shy and yet triumphant. He stroked his hands up over her ribs, his thumbs supporting the pillow of her breasts, his fingers delving into the tender, damp hollow of her armpits.

  “You’re so fucking pretty,” he approved, his gaze hot, face going taut in that look she recognized now as sheer lust. “Lift your arms and push back your hair. Yeah, like that. Leave your arms up, baby. Ah, yeah. Now ride me.”

  She did, while he played with her nearly too-sensitive breasts. “Touch yourself,” he urged. “Let me see you pet your pretty pussy while you ride me.”

  Bella turned her head, eyeing him from the cover of her tousled hair while she considered. He was so open, so comfortable doing exactly what he wanted and voicing what he wanted her to do. Did she dare to be as open? With him, she wanted to.

  Daringly, she reached down to cup one hand over her mons, stroking her damp curls and into them to find her clitoris.

  “Come for me,” he commanded, his voice full of certainty. “Ah, yeah, you like me watching you do that, don’t you. Yeah, ride me harder. Bring yourself off, and take me with you.”

  Bella tried to answer, but all that emerged from her lips was his name as she drove both of them up and over the peak again.

  Afterward, she collapsed on his chest, and he held her there, his heart thundering in his chest, his arms around her. He was too hot and sweaty, and she was going to be too sore to walk, but Bella had never been so happy.

  After several moments, he lifted her off him and disposed of the condom, then pulled her back against his side, his arm around her so that she was draped against his side. They lay in the soft bed of leaves, the air musky with the scent of their sex mingled with flowers and damp earth.

  “I think you should go for help,” Bella told him. “You could hike up the mountain and find a road, while I go back down and look for Frank.”

  “No,” he said unequivocally. “I’m not leaving you. And if Frank is still down there, he’s well hidden. You said your family will show up soon, and when they do, we’ll leave no stone unturned to find him.”

  Bella scowled against his shoulder. She wanted to find Frank, and she wanted Joel safe. If Camille came after her, Bella thought she could stay hidden in the forest, that she could use her strange affinity with the trees and plants to stay concealed.

  And even if Camille found her, maybe, just maybe Bella could frighten her by making the trees shake and vines coil.

  But Joel leaned up on one elbow, rolling her onto her back once more.

  “Listen to me.” He gripped her jaw in the vise of his thumb and forefinger. His gaze bored into hers. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that in the wild, you have to be a team. Otherwise, there’s no one there to catch you if—when you fall.”

  She snorted. “You mean like when I fell off your rope into the water?”

  “That was not my rope,” he corrected. “I never use that kind. Won’t hold a knot worth spit.”

  She smiled but then fell serious again, searching his gaze. “Will you?” she asked, the question dragged out of her. “Will you catch me, Joel?”

  A golden flame ignited in his eyes. “Oh yeah,” he promised. “Believe it, Princess.”

  “I’ll catch you too,” she promised. “I will.” I will, she repeated silently, fiercely as he kissed her again, a hard, tender kiss that warmed her very soul.

  She would kill to protect him if necessary. The thought shocked her to her very core. But then, as he pulled back to look down at her once more, her wounded warrior, set on protecting her, she realized something.

  Something more terrifying than Camille Helman and all her knife-and guntoting henchmen.

  This feeling of fierce, tender protectiveness that she felt toward him, combined with the melting in her knees when he looked at her, and the constant urge to be near him? It was love. The Big One. She was in love with Joel Girand, and he was a celebrity hooked on his life of travel and adventure.

  “Hey,” he said, cupping the side of her face with his big hand. “What is it? You’re giving me a freaky look there.”

  “N-nothing,” she said. But then she hiccupped as her new realization, combined with the horrific events of the day, coalesced in a firestorm of emotion. In response, a hot, suffocating geyser welled up inside her and broke forth. She burst into tears—and not the quiet, delicate kind. The hot, noisy and consuming kind that shook her body and made her nose run.

  Joel gathered her into his arms. “Ah, shh-shh, baby. It’s all right. I’ve got you.” He held her, rocking her a little and murmuring nonsense to her while he stroked her back. It felt wonderful to be held and petted.

  Then he took her into the pond and helped her bathe and let her bathe him in return. Bella was deeply grateful to submerge her hot face in the cool water and busy herself with the sensory pleasures of washing away the sweat and salt and tears.

  When she emerged from rinsing her hair, he smiled at her. Her heart flipped in her chest at the tender teasing in his eyes. “Damn, you even look good when you cry,” he said. “Haole girls get all red and splotchy.”

  “Liar. I know my nose and eyes are all red. Sorry—”

  He shook his head. “Don’t you apologize for crying, Nani. You’ve been through a hell of a lot today. You’ve held up better than most women would, and I’m proud of you.”

  Her heart did that funny swelling thing again as she gazed up into his eyes. “Mahalo. I’m kinda proud of you too, hotshot.”

  He grinned. “Shucks, it was nothin’, ma’am. Just part of the service in The Zone.”

  The reminder of his career sobered her. Then she realized how ridiculous it was to worry about losing him to his job when they still had to live through the next hours here.

  She waded with him from the pool and dried off while he took another look at the yacht and bay below. Then she unrolled the sleeping bag and sat on it to comb her hair. She should probably put some clothes on, but she was enjoying the sensation of the soft air on her skin too much.

  Joel turned from his examination with the binoculars and looked down at her. She returned his gaze, enjoying the hard lines of his nude body, from the broad, tanned expanse of his chest and shoulders, to the pale leanness of his hips and thighs, and his sculpted arms and legs. Even his feet were sexy, high-arched, with tan lines from wearing sandals.

  He dropped onto the bag beside her and took the wide-tooth comb from her, urging her to sit between his open thighs while he drew the comb gently through her wet hair. Bella smiled to herself, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, the tugging of the comb, the brush of his warm fingers on her back. No one except a hairdresser had combed her hair for years.

  “What did you do? Before you started with your show, I mean?” she asked him, suddenly ravenous with curiosity about him.

  “The usual stuff,” he said. “Went to college, got a degree in forestry, of all things. Graduated and wondered what the hell to do with myself. Went down to work at an outdoor adventure camp in California and found out I was good at doing stupid outdoor tricks.”

  “They’re not stupid,” she protested, then smiled to herself. “Well, not all of them.”

  “Thanks.” She heard the smile in his voice. He worked at a knot in her wet hair.

  “Do you think yo
u’ll want to keep doing the show?” she asked.

  “Yeah, for a few years, anyway. You never know, with television. Ratings tank, networks get bought by bigger ones, some executive in an office somewhere decides the show doesn’t fit the company profile. But I have a contract for another year. At least, I think so.”

  “What do you mean, you think so?”

  He grunted. “I mean The Zone’s future is a little iffy right now. I’m hoping DelRay’s sponsorship will boost my status with the network. Or at least I was, before this whole trip went to hell.”

  Bella bit her lip. He had a point. Would DelRay consider the trip worth a redo? “I’ll fix it, somehow,” she said as he drew the comb carefully through her hair. “It was working, I know it was. You looked great with the equipment.”

  He leaned forward to kiss the point of her bare shoulder. “Mahalo.”

  “What do you want to do with the rest of your life?” he asked, before she could reply. “When we get back, I mean, because we are getting back.”

  She was startled by his question. “Well, continue on with DelRay, of course. If they’ll have me after the debacle this trip has turned into. If not, I’ll have to look for another job.” She wasn’t looking forward to that at all. In fact, the thought made her shudder.

  But instead of kissing her shoulder comfortingly, her lover was silent for a moment. He stopped combing. “Are you nuts?” he demanded, his huff of laughter more derisive than humorous.

  Bella turned on him, the last remnants of her warm glow of pleasure dissipating. “What?” she said defensively.

  He closed his eyes for a moment as if asking for patience, the red plastic comb hanging lax in his hand. “Bella, you don’t want another job like that.”

  “Oh, and why not?” She turned her back on him, scowling and he resumed combing her hair, tugging a little harder.

  “Because, you’re not a suit. You don’t belong locked up in a goddamn office all day. You belong out here, with the trees, and the plants—and freedom.”

  She rolled onto her knees and turned to face him, anger so sudden it came out of nowhere blazing in her. She might be in love with him, but he could still be as dense as a lava boulder. “We can’t all play for a living, you know.”

  He pulled his head back as if she’d slapped him, his cheekbones staining with red. “Oh, so I play for a living, huh? And I suppose hawking swimsuits and hiking shoes is more important?”

  He tossed the comb aside, levered himself to his feet, and stood there, shaking his head. “At least I’ve found a job I love.”

  She glared at his gorgeous ass as he turned his back on her and bent over to fish a pair of shorts from his bag. His sac hung heavy between his muscular thighs, and part of her wanted to reach out and touch him there, pull him back down with her. Part of her wanted to smack him on that ass—hard.

  “Well, at least I’m not afraid to put down some roots,” she snapped. Blinking hard against a sudden blur in her eyes, she groped in her own bag and found her last clean bikini. She thrust her feet into the brown-and-white-flowered bottoms, then had to yank them off again and untwist them before wriggling into them.

  She let out a squeak of surprise as Joel reached down and pulled her to her feet, his big hands holding her upper arms. He scowled down at her. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to be tied to one spot, held down and strangled by a place that I can’t get free of. But I’ll tell you something. You’ve got roots, but they’re in a big cement pot. And they’re gonna strangle you, sooner or later.”

  They glared at each other for a moment. Bewilderment and anger tumbled inside her. How had their idyll become this mutual attack?

  “You’ve only known me for a few days,” she said quietly. As she had him. Was she really in love with him, or were these powerful emotions just the heat of the moment?

  “I could say the same,” Joel said, echoing her thoughts. He shook his head. “Look, I don’t mean to psychoanalyze you. It’s just that…” His gaze softened, and he lifted one big hand to cup the side of her face, stroking across her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful out here. Like you’re part of this forest—a young queen, and all of these”—he waved his hand at the trees around them— “are your subjects.”

  Bella gazed up at him, her heart swelling so much at his praise that it hurt. “Mahalo,” she whispered. “I’m… Is that really how you see me?”

  His eyes heated, and he stepped closer and squatted to grasp her around the hips and lift her high in his arms, looking up at her. “Oh yeah,” he murmured. “Now, about that thing with the flowers. Think you could do that again?”

  She slid her arms around his shoulders and bent her head to brush her lips over his. “I can do better than that, kâne nohea.”

  He groaned. “I may not survive, but I’ll die a happy man.”

  Bella bent to kiss him again, but as their lips met, she froze. The trees were whispering, but now it was harsh and sibilant—a warning. She lifted her head.

  “Take care, little sister. Take your kâne nohea and go, high onto our mountain. Conceal yourselves.”

  “What is it?” Joel asked. “Do you hear something? Other than the wind in the trees?”

  She looked up into the trees. “Something’s wrong.”

  He frowned quizzically. “How do you figure that? Did you hear something?”

  Bella searched for an excuse, not quite ready to share the fact that she heard voices. Might be a bit much for a post-coital chat, even for this world adventurer. “The birds—they’re quiet.”

  “A little too quiet,” he murmured, but his eyes were serious. He let her slide to the ground and turned toward the cliff’s edge.

  “They’re coming,” she told him. Picking up her bikini top, she fastened it with quick efficiency. Then she walked over to the edge of the bowl, into the shadows of the trees, and looked down.

  “Watch out, they’ll see you,” he said urgently, moving up beside her. He pulled her farther into the shadows of the tree.

  “It doesn’t matter. She knows we’re here.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  To Do: When negotiations are called for in dealing with pugnacious locals, the tour director will step forward, using her expertise.

  “Hello,” called an amplified voice from below, echoing off the mountain, rising over the sound of the surf and the rustle of the trees.

  A pale figure moved away from the cluster of people standing on the beach below. Camille Helman, dressed in immaculate white. She carried a megaphone, and she waved at them from the beach, as cheerily as if she were an invited guest. “Aloha, Bella Ho’omalu. I know you’re up there somewhere. You’d better come down, or the party will begin without you.”

  “Don’t let her see you,” Joel gritted. “She can’t be sure you’re here.”

  “She has Cassie,” Bella realized, her stomach sinking as a slender blonde figure was hauled forward by a much larger male.

  “What the hell?” Joel swore. “How did she find her?”

  “Cassie must have panicked,” Bella said. “I shouldn’t have let them stop down below. I should have made them come up farther.”

  “Hell,” he muttered again. “Well, she doesn’t know for sure you’re here, so—”

  “Better come out,” Camille called. “Or my boys start shooting.”

  “She knows,” Bella said as another figure walked forward. It was Li, his pale hair recognizable even from here. He had a bandage on his neck, and he walked stiffly, but he took Cassie from her captor. The model’s struggles were plainly visible.

  “I have to go,” Bella said.

  “The hell you do,” Joel said harshly. “Camille’s a sociopath, Bella. Giving her another hostage won’t solve anything.”

  But Bella shook her head. She looked up at him, knowing her heart was in her eyes and not caring.

  “I love you,” she admitted. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on his warm mouth. But when his hands came up to hold her, a bough
heavy with flowers dipped into his way. Bella slipped away, stepping up to stand on the very lip of the lava bowl. “Carry me, o my forest. Bear me safely down to do what I must.”

  Joel batted the vine away, his face going white. “Bella. What are you doing? Don’t—” he bit the word back and froze as if afraid his voice would push her over, his hands outstretched.

  Bella reached for one of the long vines draping down from the trees that grew from the lava wall, their roots imbedded deep in the lava. She smiled wistfully at him. “I’m more than a hostage, Joel. I’m a ho’omalu, a guardian. I’m sorry I didn’t explain to you before. I’ve been having trouble believing it myself. But I am one, and now I have to go.”

  She looked down, and the scene below was so like the Maui nightmare that she shook with terror. The Jet Ski motors in the little bay rumbled, echoing through the forest like that of the SUV in the dream, and there—a flash of scarlet caught her eye, and she saw a red bird soaring through the still air, wings outstretched, its clear cry floating up to her.

  “This is no dream, little sister. Come, we will carry you. Fight for us, with us.”

  She caught her breath in a sob. Clearly, the forest believed in her. Now if only she could.

  “God damn it,” Joel swore fiercely, his eyes blazing at her, his face pale under his tan. “A fricking vine? Even I don’t do that, Bella.”

  “I do,” she told him, and then she wrapped her arms and one leg through the thick, ropy vine and jumped.

  She heard him roar something after her, but the wind rushing in her ears drowned it out, and she was swooping down through the trees, the passing forest a blur of green.

  She swung so close to the earth that it seemed to rush up to meet her. Bella steeled herself to let go and fall. But instead, the vine swung her up and then back, like a pendulum. On the third swing, Bella let go and landed on her feet in the sand and dried palm fronds. She stumbled, went to one knee and then pushed herself upright again. She paused a few seconds, letting her equilibrium catch up with her balance, and then looked around her. Oh God. She’d made it— swung down without killing herself.