Fantasy

by Christine Feehan

  His strategy had been planned for years. He had had time to plan while he searched the world for her, while he reviewed every document in his hunt for his prey. When he was certain he had the right woman, the one woman, he put his plan into action using his lawyer to draw her into the rain forest, into his territory.

  He moved swiftly through the thick fauna, silently but quickly, effortlessly leaping over fallen trees as he made his way toward the outer edges of the jungle. A rhinoceros grunted nearby. Deer scrambled in fear as they caught his scent. Smaller animals scurried out of his way and birds fell quiet at his approach. The monkeys retreated to the higher reaches of the canopy but they, too, remained hushed, not daring to raise his ire as he passed beneath them.

  This was his kingdom and he seldom flaunted his power, but every species was aware interference would not be tolerated. Without his constant vigilance and his continual care, their world would soon disappear. He watched over and protected them and asked little in return. Now he demanded complete cooperation. Death would come silently and swiftly to any who dared defy him.

  Everything was different the moment Maggie Odessa set foot into the jungle. She was different. She felt it. Where the heat on the coast had been oppressive, stifling, within the forest that same heat seemed to envelop her in a strange perfumed world. With each step that took her into the deeper interior, she became more aware. More alert. As if awakening from a dream world. Her hearing was much more acute. She could hear separate insects, identify the trilling sounds of birds, the cries of monkeys. She heard the wind rustling in the branches overhead and smaller animals scurrying among the leaves. It was strange, yet exhilarating.

  When Maggie had first learned of her inheritance, she had thought to sell it off without seeing it, out of respect for her adoptive mother. Jayne Odessa had been adamant that Maggie never enter the rain forest. Jayne had been frightened by the very idea of it, repeatedly begging Maggie to promise that she would never put herself at risk. Maggie loved her adoptive mother and didn’t want to go against her wishes, but after Jayne’s death, a lawyer had contacted Maggie to inform her that she was the daughter of a wealthy couple, naturalists who had died violently when she was a child, and that she had inherited their estate deep in the rain forests of Borneo. The temptation was too much to resist. Despite the promises Maggie had made to her adoptive mother, she had journeyed halfway around the world to look for her past.

  Maggie had flown into the small airport and rendezvoused with the three men sent by the lawyer to meet her. From there they’d traveled in a four-wheel-drive utility vehicle for an hour before they left the main highway and took a series of unpaved roads leading into deeper forest. It seemed as if they had bumped over every rut and pit in the dirt road. Eventually they had parked the vehicle to proceed on foot, a prospect Maggie hadn’t been happy about. The humidity was high and she knotted her khaki shirt around her backpack as they trekked into deeper forest.

  The men seemed enormously strong and well prepared. They were well built, quiet when they walked, intensely alert. She had been nervous at first, but once they were walking along the trail in deeper jungle, everything seemed to change; she felt as if she were coming home.

  As she followed her guides, winding deeper into the darkened interior, she became aware of the mechanics of her own body. Of her muscles, the way they moved sleekly, easily, her strides almost rhythmic. She didn’t stumble, she didn’t make unnecessary noise. Her feet seemed to find their own placement over the uneven ground.

  Maggie became aware of her own femininity. Small beads of moisture ran in the valley between her breasts, sleek with sweat, her shirt plastered to her skin. Her long, thick hair, her one call to glory, was heavy and hot against her neck and down her back. She lifted the heavy mass, the simple act suddenly sensual, lifting her breasts beneath the thin cotton tee, her nipples rasping gently on the material. Maggie twisted her hair with the expertise of practice, fastening the thick rope to her head with a jeweled stick.

  Strange that the heat and primitive jungle should suddenly make her conscious of her body. The way she moved, her hips gently swaying, almost an invitation, as if she knew someone was watching, someone she wanted to entice. In her entire life, she had never been a flirt or a tease, yet now the temptation was overwhelming. It was as if she had come to life, here in this dark, overgrown place with vines and leaves and every kind of plant imaginable.

  Shorter trees vied for sunlight with the tall trees. They were draped with liana vines and creeping plants of various shades of green. Wild orchids hung above her head and rhododendrons climbed as high as some of the trees. Flowering plants grew on the trees, stretching for the sunlight that managed to make its way through the heavier canopy. Brightly colored lorikeets and other birds were in constant motion. The raspy call of insects was a noisy hum that filled the forest. The air was sweet with perfumed flowers that teased her senses. It was an exotic, erotic setting where she knew she belonged.

  Maggie tilted her head back with a small sigh, rubbing at the sweat on her throat with the palm of her hand. Her lower body felt heavy and restless with each step she took. Needy. Wanting. Her breasts were swollen and achy. Her hands trembled. A strange elation swept through her. Life pulsed in her veins. An awakening.

  It was then she became aware of the men. Watching her. Hot eyes on the movements of her body. The curve of her hips, the thrust of her breasts straining against the fabric of her T-shirt. The rise and fall of her breath as she walked along the narrow path. Ordinarily, knowing that she was being watched would have embarrassed her, yet she felt wanton, almost an exhibitionist.

  Maggie examined her feelings, and was shocked. She was aroused. Totally aroused. She had always thought she was a bit on the asexual side. She never noticed men the way her friends did, never really was attracted to them. They certainly didn’t find her attractive, yet now she not only was aware of her own sexuality but was reveling in the fact that she was turning men on. She frowned, puzzling over the unfamiliar feelings. It didn’t feel right to her. She wasn’t attracted to the men, even as aroused as her body was. It wasn’t the men. It was something deep within her she couldn’t comprehend.

  She moved along the path, feeling eyes caressing her body, feeling the weight of stares, hearing the heavier breathing of the men as she went deeper into the darkened interior of the forest. The jungle seemed to close behind them, vines and bushes spreading across the trail. The wind gusted, heavy enough to drop leaves and small twigs onto the forest floor. Flower petals, vines, and even a few smaller branches settled onto the ground so that it looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed in eons.

  Her eyes were seeing details differently, much more sharply, catching movement she shouldn’t have been able to notice. It was exhilarating. Even her sense of smell seemed enhanced. She was trying to avoid walking over a beautiful white lacy plant that seemed to be everywhere. It gave off a pungent odor. “What is this on the ground?” she ventured to ask.

  “A type of fungi,” one of the men answered gruffly. He had introduced himself merely as Conner. “Insects love it. They end up spreading its spores everywhere.” He cleared his throat, glanced at the other men, then back at her. “What do you do in the big city, miss?”

  Maggie was startled that he asked her a question. None of the men had encouraged much conversation. “I’m a veterinarian for exotic animals. I specialize in felines.”

  Maggie had always been drawn to the wilds, studying and researching everything she could find on rain forests, animals, and plants. She had worked hard to become a veterinarian of exotic animals, hoping to practice in the wilderness, but Jayne had been so unwavering, resolute in her determination to keep Maggie close, she had eventually settled for working for the zoo. This had been her big chance to go to the place she had always longed to see.

  Maggie had dreams of the rain forest. She had never played with dolls like other little girls, but with plastic animals, lions and leopards and tigers. All the big cats
. She had an affinity for them; she knew when they were in pain or upset or depressed. Felines responded to her and she had quickly acquired a reputation for her ability to heal and work with exotic cats.

  The men exchanged a brief look she couldn’t hope to interpret. For some reason their reaction made her uneasy, but she persisted in attempting to converse now that he’d given her an opening. “I read that there are rhinoceros and elephants in this forest. Is that true?”

  The man who called himself Joshua nodded abruptly, reached back, and took her backpack out of her hand as if the weight of it was forcing them to slow down. She didn’t protest because he didn’t so much as break stride. They were moving fast now.

  “You’re certain of where you’re going? There’s really a small village where there are people around? I don’t want to be left all alone with no one to help me if I get bitten by a snake or something.” Was that her voice? Throaty? Husky? It didn’t sound like her.

  “Yes, miss, there’s a town and supplies.” Conner’s tone was guarded.

  A ripple of unease went through her. She struggled to tame her voice, make it once more her own. “Surely there’s another way to get there without going on foot? How do they bring in supplies?”

  “Mules. And no, to reach your home and the village, you must walk.”

  “Is it always this dark in the forest?” Maggie persisted. What landmarks were they navigating by? There were so many trees. Ironwood and sandalwood. Ebony and teak. So many different kinds. There had been numerous fruit trees such as coconut palms and mango and banana and orange along the outer perimeters. She recognized the various types of trees, but couldn’t tell what the men were using to identify the actual trail. How could they tell where they were going or how to get back? She was intrigued and a bit awed by their ability.

  “The sunlight has little chance to penetrate the thick branches and leaves above,” came the answer. No one slowed the pace, no one even glanced at her.

  Maggie could tell they didn’t want to converse. It wasn’t exactly as if they were being rude to her, but she could tell when she addressed them directly that they were uneasy. Maggie shrugged carelessly. She didn’t need conversation. She had always been comfortable with her own company, and there were so many intriguing things in the forest. She caught a glimpse of a snake nearly as thick as a man’s arm. There was a tiny spot of spectacular color that turned out to be a frog of some sort on a tree. And so many lizards she lost count. It should have been immensely difficult to spot such creatures. They blended with the foliage, yet somehow she could see them. Almost as if the jungle was changing her in some way, improving her sight, her ability to hear and smell.

  Sudden silence took hold of the forest. Insects ceased their endless hum. Birds abruptly stopped their continuous calls. Even the monkeys ceased all chatter. The stillness disturbed her, sent a chill cascading down her spine. A single warning was shrieked high in the canopy, an alert of danger, and Maggie knew instantly that it was danger to her. The hair on the back of her neck raised and she nervously turned her head from side to side as she walked, her eyes restlessly probing the thick foliage.

  Her apprehension must have communicated itself to the guards. They tightened up the distance between them, one dropping back behind her, urging her to move more quickly through the forest.

  Maggie’s heart accelerated, her mouth went dry. She could feel her body begin to tremble. Something moved in the deep foliage, large, heavily muscled, a shadow in the shadows. Something paced along beside them. She couldn’t really see it, yet she did, the impression of a large predator, an animal stalking her silently. She felt the weight of an intent, focused stare, the unblinking eyes of something savage. Something fixated on her. Something wild.

  “Are we safe?” She asked the question softly, moving closer to her guides.

  “Of course we’re safe, miss,” the third man replied, a tall blond with dark, brooding eyes. His gaze slid over her. “Nothing would attack so large a party.”

  The group wasn’t that large. Four people tramping on a nonexistent path toward an uncertain destination. She didn’t feel all that safe. She had forgotten what the third man’s name was. It suddenly bothered her. Really bothered her. What if something did attack them and the man tried to protect her and she didn’t even know who he was?

  Maggie glanced back. The trail had disappeared completely behind them. She lifted her chin, another shiver finding its way through her body. Something watched and waited to attack. Were they walking into an ambush? She didn’t know any of the men. She was trusting a lawyer she knew very little about. She’d investigated him, of course, to ensure he was legitimate, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been deceived. Women disappeared every day.

  “Miss Odessa?” It was the tall blond. “Don’t look so frightened. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  She managed a small smile. His reassurance didn’t take away her fear of the unknown, but she was grateful he had noticed and had tried. “Thank you. The forest went so quiet all of a sudden, and it feels so…” Dangerous. The word was in her mind but she didn’t want to speak it aloud, to give it life. Instead she matched her stride to the blond’s. “Please call me Maggie. I’ve never been very formal. What’s your name?”

  He hesitated, glanced toward the left into the heavy foliage. “It’s Donovan, Miss…er…Maggie. Drake Donovan.”

  “Have you been to the village often?”

  “I have a home there,” he admitted. “We all have homes there.”

  Relief swept through her. She felt some of the tension leave her body. “That’s reassuring. I was beginning to think I had inherited a small hut in the middle of the forest or maybe at the top of one of the trees.” Her laughter was low. Husky. Almost seductive.

  Maggie blinked in shock. There it was again. She never sounded like that, yet twice now her voice had become an invitation. She didn’t want Drake Donovan to think she was coming on to him. What in the world had gotten into her? Something was happening to her, something she didn’t like at all. She knew it was wrong, everything about it felt wrong, yet her body was raging at her with an urgent, primitive need.

  From several yards away, Brandt feasted his eyes on her through the thick foliage. She was everything and more than he had expected. She wasn’t tall, but he hadn’t expected her to be. Her body was curvy, with lush breasts and hips, a small waist, strong legs. Her hair was thick and luxurious, a wealth of red-gold silk. Her brows were reddish, her eyes as green as the leaves on the trees. Her mouth was a sinful temptation.

  It was oppressively hot and she was sweating, a dark vee down the front of her shirt molding to her high, firm breasts. There was a damp line down her back, drawing attention to the sweep of her spine, the curve of her hips. Her jeans rode low on her hips, exposing an enticing expanse of skin and revealing a belly button that he found exceedingly sexy. He longed to capture her right there, drag her away from the other men, and claim what belonged to him. He had taken far too long in finding her and the Han Vol Dan was nearly upon her. He could tell. The others could tell. They tried not to look at what didn’t belong to them, but she was so naturally sensuous, so alluring and compelling, the men were reacting with the same ragged hunger as he felt. Brandt felt bad for them. They were doing him a favor, despite the danger to all of them from the overpowering emotions. He had been tracking poachers when she had arrived, and the men had gone to meet her in his stead, to bring her to him.

  The rain began, great sheets of it, working to penetrate the heavier foliage above them, sending the humidity up another notch. The downpour bathed the forest in iridescent colors as the water blended with light to make prisms so that rainbows washed across the vine-draped trees. The woman, his mate, Maggie Odessa, turned her face up in delight. There was no grumbling, no squeals of shock. She raised her hands over her head in silent tribute, allowing the water to cascade over her face. She was rain-wet. The drops ran down her face, her lashes. All Brandt could think of was that
he needed to lap every drop from her face. To taste her petal-soft skin with the life-giving water running over it. He was suddenly thirsty, his throat parched. His body felt heavy and painful, and a strange roaring started in his head.

  Maggie’s white T-shirt instantly soaked through in the sudden deluge, rendering the material nearly transparent. Her breasts were outlined, full, intriguing, a swell of lush, creamy flesh, her nipples darker and twin hard buds of invitation. The richness of her exposed body drew his gaze like a magnet. Beckoned him. Mesmerized him. His mouth went dry, and his heart hammered out an urgent tattoo.

  Drake glanced back at Maggie, his gaze lingering for a hot, tension-filled moment on the sway of her breasts.

  A warning rumbled deep in Brandt’s throat. The growl was low, but in the silence of the forest, it carried easily. He coughed, the peculiar, grunting cough of his kind. A threat. A command. Drake went ramrod stiff, jerked his head around, peered uneasily into the bushes.

  Maggie’s gaze followed Drake’s to the thick vegetation. There was no mistaking the sound of a large jungle cat.

  Drake tossed her the backpack. “Put on something, anything, to cover yourself.” His voice was clipped, almost hostile.

  Her eyes widened in amazement. “Didn’t you hear that?” She held the pack in front of her, shielding her breasts from their view, shocked that the men seemed more concerned with her body than with the danger approaching them. “You had to have heard that. A leopard, and close, we should get out of here.”

  “Yes. That is a leopard, Miss Odessa. And running doesn’t do a bit of good if they’ve decided to make a meal of you.” Keeping his back to her, Drake shoved his hand through his wet hair. “Just put on something else and we’ll be fine.”