The Orchid Hunter
Page 28
He stepped down to meet me on level ground. “I’m running a sustainable resources program they’ve just started. It’s a pilot project.” His eyes gleamed and the dimple made him look suddenly shy. “It’s why I showed up today. There’s something I hope you’ll help me with. If you don’t have something else to do.”
So the message had been about work, not about me. “My employer’s a dead bioterrorist,” I said gruffly. “I think I’m free for a while.”
He smiled slightly, undaunted. “Cradion needs a stable supply of Death Orchids to produce the heart medication Harrison developed. It’ll take months to synthesize the alkaloid it produces. I’m heading back to the Amazon to start a moth-orchid farming operation.”
“Why not just mericlone the orchids here?” I asked. “They could have hundreds in a matter of weeks.”
He shoved his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. “The moths don’t survive long in captivity and we haven’t figured out why.”
“So Cradion needs both orchids and moths.” I was drowning in his eyes again, just like before, wishing it were for good this time. Knowing I wouldn’t be more than a colleague if he asked what I thought he was going to ask.
Then he asked it.
“Are you interested in managing the orchid side of it? I’m thinking we could bring the Yanomamo into the project. I know there’s no preventing them from being exposed to Western culture, but maybe we could incorporate their knowledge into what we’re doing instead of the other way around. Learn some new things from them.”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself to say no. Not because I didn’t want to, because I did—and his idea about the Yanomamo was great—but because I would put myself through too much pain to be that close to him without being with him. Then again, maybe he was offering me a desk job here while he was in the field.
He added softly, “I want you to go back with me.”
My heart stuck in my throat, making it difficult to get the next words out. “In general or in particular?”
His gaze warmed. “In particular.”
“Rick—”
His lips caught whatever else I was going to say, which didn’t matter because I forgot what that was the moment he threaded his fingers through my hair. His strong arms went around me and held me tight against his body. His kiss grew desperate, searching and needful, and I knew he’d missed me as much as I had him. But he’d been the one to keep us apart.
I broke the kiss and shoved him away. “You didn’t have to lie to me, Noah.”
His hands dropped to his sides. “No, I didn’t. I let my job get in the way when I knew it shouldn’t. But I’d dabbled in a few other things I shouldn’t have and got the village attacked.” His voice lowered. “I got Marcello killed. That was my fault.” Before I could protest, he added, “I wasn’t willing to take that chance with you.”
“So you were going to tell me who you were when we got back?” I couldn’t keep the disbelieving tone out of my voice.
“Shoemaker tracked me down before I ever left the States. When I told him I was after the moth, he let me go and told me to keep an eye out for you. He had to know whether you could be trusted with the orchid.” That slow smile kicked in. “It turned out you could.”
I felt my eyes go wide. Rick had been working with Homeland Security all along? “Wait a minute—”
“Why do you think you got away with only a fine for illegal transport?” he asked. “Who do you think’s been in your corner all this time, helping Shoemaker convince Homeland Security not to send you to jail?”
“You—”
He caught me up in his arms again, grinning as I sputtered. “Hey, I was just doing a job when we met, exactly like the one he keeps offering you.” He tightened his grip, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “Nice trick with the Cattleya delictabus, by the way. Talk about blindsided.”
I struggled a few seconds more until I realized just how good it felt to be in his arms again, to smell his sandalwood scent. “You stick with me and you’d better watch your back,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around his neck.
His lips trailed along my jaw to my ear, sending shivers down my spine like no man ever had. “If I stick with you, I won’t have to,” he whispered.
I smiled and settled deeper into his embrace.
Damn straight.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6703-3
THE ORCHID HUNTER
Copyright © 2005 by Sandra K. Moore
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