Fatal Intent

by Ryshia Kennie

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Exactly what I said.” He sat up.

  “Anything I want you to be? That’s ridiculous.” She sat up too, reaching for her shirt and putting it on.

  “You seem to have a need to remake things. Control your environment, so to speak,” he said smoothly, shifting the topic.

  “I’m a scientist. Don’t we all?”

  Slowly he shook his head. He sat up and she could see him vaguely outlined in the night. She wanted to reach over and shake him. She wanted to pull him down and kiss him. She didn’t do either.

  “You don’t like a controlled environment? That’s ridiculous. You can’t work without one.”

  “This is my laboratory.” His hand waved through the air, encompassing everything around them. “Impossible to control.”

  “Yes, but when you return to the city . . .”

  “There is law and order and society. Rules I must follow.” He sighed.

  She cleared her throat. “Do you think you’ll ever find Malcolm’s killer?”

  “Possibly. But there’s still a chance we may never know.”

  “Are you serious? That’s impossible. We can’t just leave his death unsolved, unavenged.”

  “Unavenged? Don’t you think that might be overly dramatic?”

  “Not at all.”

  “This is Borneo, Rett.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she protested.

  “You like it,” he replied.

  “Maybe,” she simpered. What was she doing, she didn’t simper. She curled into him. Trailed a finger down his cheek. “Say it again.”

  “Rett,” he said softly.

  “Kiss me,” she said, her voice throaty, and kissed him instead.

  She claimed his lips with all the latent fire she had held back in the past horrific weeks. Borneo. Harsh and wild and so beautiful, it sucked you in and made you want to return again and again. Like Aidan, she thought as their lips met and their bodies anticipated the erotic dance. So very much like Aidan.

  Overhead the off-kilter shrill call of some insect jangled around them. But to Garrett it was only an aphrodisiac, a catalyst that drove her deeper into his arms. For now there was nothing but the passion between them. For now—and that was the last coherent thought as she folded into his arms under the darkened canopy of the Borneo rain forest.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sunlight drifted through the trees as they plodded forward the next day. Then the silence was broken by a crack like a rifle blast that reverberated through the forest.

  “Thunder,” she whispered.

  “What the hell!” Mark stopped.

  “That wasn’t thunder. That was gunfire,” Ian asserted.

  Garrett marveled at how calm Ian was and wondered how he could tell the difference. But then she remembered that Ian went to the shooting range weekly when they were in the States. He would know the sound of gunfire.

  “Get down,” Aidan roared before diving into her in a full-body tackle. She crashed to the jungle floor with him on top of her, her hand wedged painfully beneath her, and all she could do was gasp quietly for air.

  “Don’t move,” Aidan hissed, and there was nothing soft or understanding about his tone. He stood up. “Stay here.”

  “What are you doing?” Her heart thudded at the possibility of danger.

  “After them.”

  “No!”

  He covered her hand with his. “I’ll be fine. The shot sounded closer than it actually was.” With that he melted quietly into the forest.

  He shouldn’t do this alone, she thought. Who would watch his back?

  “How do we know there isn’t more than one?” Ian whispered.

  Around them the forest was strangely silent, and then seconds later in the distance something popped and snapped.

  “What the hell is that?” Sid looked at Ian.

  “I don’t know. It’s too far away.”

  Aidan is out there, Garrett thought.

  “Stay here,” she commanded. And like they wouldn’t have done so many days ago, they did.

  She’d learned something these last few days. She might be an amateur but she could mark a trail well enough now to at least return to her starting point.

  The forest seemed to breathe damp and sweltering around her. Even after five minutes in there was no sign of Aidan.

  Then a hand clamped over her mouth and she bit back a scream.

  “Quiet,” Aidan hissed in her ear. He let her go and motioned over his shoulder.

  Them? she mouthed soundlessly.

  “Maybe,” he whispered, pulling her down in a crouch.

  She watched as two men, rifles over their shoulders, tramped through the forest. They were obviously making for the river, where a longboat sat waiting. It was too far to make out faces clearly but their voices were loud and carried easily across the distance.

  “Mandarin,” Aidan whispered.

  Suddenly, Aidan took her hand, squeezing so tight she almost gasped. His face was hard, impenetrable. Garrett glanced back to the river and saw the faint shadow of a man. But it was the hat that made her look again, a cowboy hat. Even from this distance that was obvious. The hat was very familiar. She couldn’t place it and yet she should. It seemed like longer than the few minutes that it was before the hunters had loaded the longboat and left the riverbank.

  Aidan released her hand.

  On the river the group were in the boat and moving quickly out of sight.

  “You saw what the one was carrying?” he asked flatly.

  And she had. A hornbill, the beautiful large orange-hued bill impossible to miss even from the distance they’d been at. “They’re protected,” she whispered.

  “We’re going back to the others. There’s nothing I can do now.”

  “Aidan, what is it?”

  He looked at her, his eyes troubled.

  Garrett remembered the Stetson that Blue wore that last day at the longhouse. Stetsons weren’t common in the rain forest. “It was the cowboy hat, wasn’t it? Blue has one and they’re not that common.”

  “The only one more fanatical than me about preserving the rain forest is Blue.”

  “But he’s a guide.”

  “He is.”

  “To hunters?”

  “It wasn’t Blue no matter what you might think,” he said shortly. “There’s more than one cowboy hat in the jungle.”

  “I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions and I don’t know the man.”

  “Precisely. Blue and I had many discussions about the interconnectivity of the wildlife and the Iban. If there’s anything we both abhor, it’s poaching. No, whoever that was he was Iban but it wasn’t Blue.”

  She hurried to catch up with him. “You said Blue was your good friend.”

  “He’s like a brother to me. His father raised me like a son.”

  That stopped her. “His father?”

  “Akan.”

  “You’re part Iban.” She frowned. He didn’t look it but it made sense.

  “Nope. American, but my mother fell in love with anything counterculture. You don’t get much more counterculture than a tribe of headhunters. So we moved in and here I am.”

  “That’s leaving a lot out.”

  “What else do you want?”

  He punched a stand of long grass.

  She knew snakes hid in that kind of grass. She shuddered. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t leave it alone. The subject was obviously touchy for him. She wasn’t that kind of woman, delving into the personal affairs of others, sniffing around in what really wasn’t her business. But she couldn’t stop.

  “What was it like growing up here?”

  “I think you can see how different it would be. I learned to hunt, to navigate the forest, to use a spear and blow pipe.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “To wear a loincloth effectively.” He winked. “Don’t think I didn’t see you leering at me.”

  “I don’t leer.” She laughed. “Okay
, not much, but let me tell you that loincloth would cause a stampede of women in any city.” She paused. “You don’t wear it in Kuching, do you?”

  He laughed. “Every day.”

  “I can’t figure you out.”

  “That’s how most women feel.”

  “And I suppose you’ve had many women.” She fought to look disinterested.

  “Have I had many women or is the question why aren’t I married?”

  “Of course not.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This is the twenty-first century, women don’t need a man, marriage. So obviously I wouldn’t ask the question.”

  “Don’t they?” he drawled.

  “No. A woman could know this forest every bit as well as a man.”

  “But she doesn’t,” he said, emphasizing she.

  Garrett grabbed his arm and pulled him around, and he let her, like she knew he would. She reached up and kissed him. A hot, passionate kiss, and then she let go of his hand and pushed ahead of him.

  “Don’t do that, Rett,” Aidan growled and pushed past her. “You know this long grass can be deadly.”

  It was then that she saw it.

  “Don’t move.” Aidan’s voice was a raw hiss.

  She froze as he raised his spear and then it shot through the air and hit its mark.

  The snake wreathed and as suddenly stopped moving. Aidan stepped carefully around it.

  “Poisonous?” she whispered.

  “Very,” he replied calmly.

  She shivered, clutching her arms under her chest as she stared at the dead snake. It wasn’t big but it seemed none of the poisonous reptiles were. “I’ll be glad to get out of here for now.”

  “For now? What are you implying?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that. You’re coming back,” he accused. “Don’t. Not without me anyway.”

  “Aidan, I don’t think either one of us could stand another trip like this. It’s too much, we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  “Yes, it is. I don’t jump into meaningless relationships.”

  “Meaningless?”

  “You live here half the time. That’s a world away from civilization, at least what I know.”

  Garrett licked her suddenly dry lips. She couldn’t trust a man, especially a man like Aidan, not to interfere with her career, with her freedom. Like she’d seen every man do before, like her father had done. Her mother had only been a shadow flitting around her father’s career. “I don’t want just stolen moments.”

  “I don’t know, I particularly liked the campfires.” Aidan’s smile was slow and languid as his arm settled over her shoulders and he pulled her against him. “Especially the company.”

  He was warm and solid. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her brain screamed like a pilot in a death spiral—divert, divert.

  No. He was the wrong man. He was a nomad, a man of the wilderness. Despite a career in the city, the jungle was where he felt at home, where he would return.

  His arm curving again around her waist reminded her of his heart-stopping nearness. She wrestled within herself. End it before she got hurt.

  He belonged in the jungle, yet the elegance and grace came from somewhere else.

  An enigma.

  Dangerous.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The next day, everyone was in a good humor as they neared the end of a difficult time, and as it became obvious that the trail was changing. Signs of civilization blossomed as a path emerged, cutting into the wilderness.

  “We’re not far, are we?” Ian’s voice was hopeful.

  Sid slapped him on the shoulder. “No, mate, I think we’re seeing the end of this particular journey.”

  “We’ll make the village today then?” Garrett tried to share the excitement of her team, but for her excitement warred with regret and worry that they were leaving a discovery like nothing the entomology community had ever seen, a discovery that might never be located again.

  Aidan nodded. A tilt of his head had her attention far ahead on the trail, where something glinted. Glass or metal, either way it was evidence of a town, of civilization. And dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Her journey with Aidan was over. Garrett’s nails bit into her palm and the pain didn’t surpass the ache in her gut, the relief soured with dread that this was it.

  “Civilization.” Ian’s smile was huge and only surpassed by Burke’s, whose gold tooth glinted in the sunlight.

  “Jeez, man,” Sid said. “Could you not have been satisfied with metal or porcelain like the rest of the world?” He shook his head. “Gold tooth. What an idiot.”

  “Suit yourself, Sid,” Burke replied. “Just because you don’t like it tells me it must have some class.”

  A whistle floated through the layered forest sounds. Aidan held up his hand and the group was silent.

  Aidan whistled a soft, melodious sound that shadowed the first and seemed one with the forest. A dark-haired, deeply tanned, compact individual dropped from the branches and landed in front of them. He rolled back on his heels and straightened, pushing his long black hair from his face. He looked vaguely familiar. Garrett frowned; the last time she had seen this man he had been at the longhouse. Aidan’s brother.

  “Blue!” Aidan’s enthusiasm was almost infectious.

  “Aidan,” Blue said and nodded. “I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here.”

  “Catch me?”

  Blue pushed another strand of black hair back from his face. “Wrong term. You know I still fight with my English.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Shopping. Someone had to get nails and wire. Akan is determined to start wiring the verandah.”

  “My fault,” Aidan replied. “I listened to him.”

  “You know that only encourages him.” There was laughter in Blue’s tone.

  “So you’re helping Akan build?”

  Blue shook his head. “Nope. That’s on my return. I’m off for the next few days.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted into the sun. “So how are our scientists doing?”

  “Trouble.” Aidan turned around, winking at Garrett.

  She crossed her arms under her chest and held back a grin.

  He turned his attention back to his brother.

  “Blue, I don’t think you’ve met Garrett and her team.”

  “You’re right.” Blue held out his hand and shook as introductions were made. “Not officially. I’ve heard lots about you though. Akan is still grumbling. Kidding.” He held up both hands. He turned his attention to Aidan. “Can we talk?”

  Aidan clapped him on the back and the two of them turned back to the path and began to walk.

  Garrett turned her attention away from the two men and to the docks, where the next leg of their journey would take them to relative safety. To safety and many miles from her dream, from the career that trembled on the edge of success or abysmal mediocrity. It all rested on whether they could find the place where they had left the colony. It all depended on Aidan. Everything she knew about him told her he would keep his promise, but doubt nibbled darkly on the edges of that hope.

  Ahead, the river swept by, fronting the village in a watery rush. Garrett shuddered. Life and death ran through those violent waters. She looked away to the dock, a long expanse of weathered wood, empty except for the speedboat that bumped with the current against it. Above the dock, women crouched over vegetables laid out on blankets in a primitive outdoor market. Locals with colorful plastic woven bags sauntered amid the merchants, examining the produce. It was a very different existence from the one she had just left in the longhouse.

  Ahead of her, her team moved along slowly on the smooth dirt path that ran through the village.

  She jogged to catch up.

  “I don’t see a plane!” Sid’s tone was caustic.

  “Of course not, Sid. This isn’t JFK, where there’s a plane just waiting on the tarmac. W
e’ll have to radio or something. Maybe there is a schedule,” Ian replied.

  “You’re in luck,” Aidan said as he joined their group. “There’s a motorboat ready to go to the next village. From there it’s an overnight and then you catch the boat to Kuching.”

  “Not you?”

  “You, your team.” His index finger trailed a sensuous path down her cheek. “This is it for now, Rett. Mark and I have a few loose ends to tie up and I’ll meet you in Kuching.”

  Her skin trembled alive and wanting. Her hand closed over his. “How long before we can come back?”

  His eyes were mysteriously seductive and she pulled her gaze away before she was lost in their moss green depths. “A week, two at the most.” He squeezed her hand. “I promise, Rett. We’ll get you back here.”

  She let go of his hand and looked at the dock and the boat that waited there.

  “What happened to the plane?”

  “Not until Monday. And not from here.”

  “Monday? What the hell day is it?”

  “Thursday.”

  She calculated carefully. That was right. They had found Malcolm on Thursday, arrived at the longhouse the same day. They had been here a week since Malcolm had died. How had that happened?

  “We’re going by boat,” Ian said as he came up behind her, and his tone reflected abstract misery. “Did you see the logs coming down that river?”

  “It’ll be fine, Ian. Keep your eyes closed,” she assured him with a light touch on his forearm.

  Sid snorted.

  Their journey was almost over. She didn’t want it to be. Aidan. She wanted to touch every hard inch of him. She wanted . . . Stop it! You will return to your lab and he’ll, well, he’ll do whatever it is that he does. He’ll draw a map so someone would guide them back in and that would be it.

  And maybe that someone would be him, a small voice whispered. She pulled herself back from that thought.

  “I’ll see you in Kuching,” Aidan’s whisper was hot on her ear, his voice a sexy growl. He’d done it again, snuck up on her. “Don’t come back here alone. I mean it.”

  “Is that an order?” She tilted her head back, meeting his eyes and wanting nothing but to turn around and throw herself into his arms. Instead she turned around and folded her arms across her chest. This might be it, the last time they saw each other.