WHERE TIGERS PROWL

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WHERE TIGERS PROWL Page 35

by Karin Story


  The water speed picked up considerably, and she felt like a pinball in a madly complicated machine. Bouncing here and there, having no control over where she landed.

  Her head began to pound. She couldn't hold her breath much longer.

  Suddenly, she was swept over the edge of something and felt herself in free fall. Water pounded around her. Her stomach knotted in pain.

  With a sickening thud, she hit hard. Her breath was knocked out of her. Water filled her mouth and nose.

  Desperately clawing and fighting, she managed to get herself out of the whirlpool and bounce to the surface.

  She drew in a huge lung full of air, only to be thrust back under.

  Let the current carry you.

  She fought back to the surface one more time, gulped in another breath of air, then relaxed her body. It swept along easily, gradually slowing after thirty seconds or so, until she had some control over her movement and direction again.

  She broke the surface and nearly shouted in relief.

  Stars!

  She could see stars everywhere in the night sky. And the moon. She was out of that death pit! The night sky, which was never totally dark, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

  The current carried her near the shore and an arm appeared in front of her.

  Tom!

  Grabbing his hand, she let him pull her out of the water, and into his strong embrace.

  They clung together, shaking, drained, but free.

  "I was worried sick about you," he said, his voice strained. "It took you so long. Where the hell were you?"

  She pulled back from him and a venomous dart shot through her system. "What do you mean where the hell was I? I was in your river, getting the crud beat out of me by the rocks, thinking my lungs were gonna explode. And just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any better, I was tossed over the side of a friggin' waterfall!"

  She shoved him hard in the chest, and he staggered from the blow. "Why didn't you tell me about the waterfall?"

  "What would you have done if I'd told you, Mare? Believe you me, I did know about it the second time, and do you think that made it any easier? Hell no. It just scared the shit out of me even worse because I knew it was coming. That's why I didn't tell you."

  She clenched her hands into fists at her side and let out a quick, frustrated groan. "You're doing that protecting thing again. I hate that, Tom. I need the facts. Good, bad, or otherwise. Facts. Comprende?"

  "Your shoulder's bleeding."

  "What?"

  "You said you wanted the facts. So I'm telling you, your shoulder's bleeding." His lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

  She stared at him, glanced down at the ragged skin on her bare shoulder, then back up at him.

  "Well, gee, I wonder how that could have happened. Maybe it was those damn rocks in your river." But in spite of the sarcasm lacing her words, she felt the tingling of a grin of her own coming on.

  Tom smiled outright this time. "Yeah, admit it. You're just pissed, Wonder Woman, because I didn't let you go first."

  "Ohhh! You're insufferable, you know that, He-man?"

  "Wonder Woman." His voice was nearly a whisper this time, and his eyes glowed with a smoldering tenderness that caused her heart to ache. "Come here and let me look at your shoulder, baby."

  She could barely speak for the emotional lump that suddenly filled her throat. "We need to find the bag, don't we?"

  "I already found it. It has a hole in the side, so I don't know what's still in it, but I fished it out a minute or so before you arrived." He wrapped his fingers through hers and reeled her toward him until she was enveloped in his embrace.

  As she found peace against him, she gazed over his shoulder at the waterfall they'd come through. The water plunged fifty feet into the churning pool. But what caused her mouth to open in awe was that unlike most waterfalls, this one didn't start at the top of the cliff. It started at a dark hole a quarter of the way down from the top. The water literally spouted from the giant mouth, right out the side of the rock.

  "Tom," she gasped, stepping back to look up into his face, and pointing toward the cliff. "You went back up there? Back into that…that…thing?"

  "Yes."

  "But how? Why?"

  "That's what took me so long," he said quietly. "I had to climb up to the opening. And why? You know why, Mare. I would never leave you up there."

  "My God," she breathed, her gaze skittering back to the waterfall, then returning to him. Her chest and throat were so full she could barely breath. This man, this incredible man, had gone back through that raging deluge for her. There was absolutely no reason, as far as she could tell, that he should still be alive. Yet he was alive, and standing here with her. It humbled her as nothing else ever had.

  "Thank you," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, trying to give back to him some of the strength that he had given so freely to her while they were trapped in that awful pit.

  He held her tightly against him. "Thank you for staying alive in there," he said so softly against her hair she almost didn't hear him. Then, after dropping a kiss on her forehead, he said, "We'd better look through the stuff and see what's usable."

  "Yeah, you're right." She hated having to pull apart from him, but the fact remained that although they'd escaped the devil's lair, the devil himself was still about, and they were in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the moon and stars to guide them.

  Together they sorted through the supplies Maris had collected. The candles, rope, and extra batteries were gone, along with the bread, candy bars, cereal and matches.

  That left the guns, one remaining flashlight, the two water bottles, and the jar of caviar. And crud, how she hated that icky stuff.

  She buried the duffel bag. They could carry what was left between the two of them.

  Tom handed her the AK-47.

  "Would you rather carry it?" she asked.

  "No." He smiled. "I don't doubt for a second you know how to use it. I'll be fine with what I've got."

  At last—exhausted, battered, and bruised, both physically and emotionally—they headed east, following the river. There would be no sleep tonight. Not with the devil on the loose.

  * * *

  Trent Montgomery stood just outside the cell that had housed his lady guest. He should have killed Maris Rhodes in Denver when he had the chance. The devious, conniving little bitch had played him for the fool.

  The drug in the water faucet should have been half-gone by now, but it remained nearly untouched. She'd obviously discovered it early in her captivity. This whole time she'd been acting.

  He seethed with fury.

  Somehow, some way, she'd managed to kill Chen, escape from her room, kill the soldier he'd assigned to return his boy to his cell, then freed his boy as well.

  Tom Eberson was troublesome enough, but now, Miss Maris had taken the step from being merely a pawn, to becoming one of the players. So be it.

  He'd find them both, and kill them.

  With one last look at the mayhem in the cell, he turned and snapped his fingers. Two soldiers fell into stride behind him as he followed the tunnel down to the stream. Then with a touch to a remote door lock, a heavy stone camouflaged by dirt and moss slid open to reveal another tunnel, this one well-lit.

  He and the soldiers entered it, and the stone slid back into place behind them.

  Several minutes later he sat in another helicopter, this one small and easy to maneuver.

  "A call coming in for you from Señor Cardoza," the soldier in the back notified him.

  Adjusting the frequency on his headset to receive the call without being overheard by his soldiers, Trent grimaced. "Yes?"

  "What the hell is going on?" Juan Cardoza's voice cut sharply through the static. "I have been notified through one of our amigos in the Mexico City police that a man and a woman disappeared nearly five days ago. The señora they worked for reported them missing. Ameri
canos. The description of the male fits that of your protégé."

  "And? Have you a point here?"

  "You know exactly what point I make here. You, my friend, have captured him and his lady friend, no? And strictly against my orders, you have taken them somewhere other than directly to me as you were supposed to do. Where are they?"

  "Quite safe, Juan. Quite safe."

  "Good. Good. Then you will bring them to me immediately. And I will repeat this one more time to make sure you understand. I want them alive. Alive."

  Trent ended the call. Annoying man. He was the one in control now. Juan Cardoza would not be around much longer to interfere with his plans.

  Tom Eberson would have served him nicely, but clearly that was now out of the question. No, he, too, would die. Chen had completed enough of the work to be convincing. Combined with the fingerprint and dental record switches he'd made, and some well-placed files and photographs, the world would simply think that Trent Montgomery had met his demise in the depths of the Mexico jungles.

  And El Tigre would take over the Cardoza cartel.

  Pulling out a cigarette, he comforted himself with the thought that soon the boy and his treacherous lady would be dead. Juan would beg for his mercy as he slit his throat. And he would be on his way to becoming the richest, most powerful man in the world.

  Leaning back in his seat with a sigh, and blowing a ring of smoke upward toward the ceiling, he smiled.

  Chapter 28

  * * *

  "Take your shirt off and let me look."

  "It doesn't matter, Mare. There's nothing you can do for it out here."

  "Don't argue with me. Let me see it. You're bleeding."

  Grumbling, he pulled it slowly over his head. Too slowly, in her opinion. He was obviously hurting.

  "Good God," she muttered, sliding closer to him. Tears filled her eyes, and hatred for that bastard Trent Montgomery filled her heart. "Why did he do it again? Wasn't it enough the first time?"

  "No. The scars on my body had to match his perfectly if his plan was to work."

  Carefully, she dabbed at the new knife wounds using her T-shirt and the last of the water she'd gotten at the house. They could always purify more water to drink, she had the little vial of tablets in her pocket, but she wouldn't use anything but this clean water from the water bottle on his wounds.

  Tom stiffened as she cleaned them, but otherwise remained silent.

  When she finished, he pulled the black shirt back on, and turned to her. "I'll take first watch. You try to get some sleep if you can. There's no point in going anywhere until nighttime."

  They'd walked through what was left of the night after their escape, and as dawn crept over the horizon, they'd stopped under a patch of tall, leafy trees, in a relatively clear section of the jungle. An outcropping of rock sheltered them from the sun.

  Maris lay down on her side, resting her head on her arm. Tom sat ten feet away at the edge of the shelter, his knees drawn up, the assault rifle resting across the top of them. The sun danced off his golden hair, and she had the sudden impulse to go to him and run her fingers through it, remembering the soft silkiness of it.

  He sat there so calmly, so in control, his back ramrod straight. But she knew him well, and could see his clenching jaw from here. She could tell from the sound of his voice that his emotions were twisted in a tight knot inside him.

  He'd talked to her very little through the long night, only telling her about Trent Montgomery and his plan to have Tom step in for him, as Trent, by then known only as El Tigre, took over the cartel. But that was all. He hadn't volunteered any further information about his past. Or about how this whole ordeal was affecting him emotionally.

  Rising to her feet, she went to him, and seated herself behind him with her legs on either side of his body. Lightly, she encircled his waist with her arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  He met her question with a deep sigh, and kept his eyes trained outward. "What would you like to know?"

  "Whatever you want to tell me."

  "Well, I told you my name is Tom Eberson. I grew up on a ranch in Colorado. I have a sister who's two years younger than I am. Her name's Carrie." Maris could hear the smile in his voice. "I have a feeling you two will like each other a lot."

  "And your parents?"

  "They're great. My folks are still out there on the ranch, at least I guess they are…" his voice trailed off.

  "Where in Colorado?" she asked to keep him talking.

  "East of Colorado Springs."

  "Wait a minute…" Something clicked in her mind. "A ranch? Near Colorado Springs?"

  "Yeah, why?" He turned a curious gaze back over his shoulder toward her.

  "Oh, no…" She buried her face in her hands and shook her head.

  "What is it?" He adjusted his position, so she was no longer behind him, but rather next to him.

  "Your name, Eberson. When you told me your name earlier, I thought it sounded familiar. And now I know why."

  "Why?"

  "Remember when I told you about my excursion to the DEA office in Denver and how I heard the men talking and I followed that one and carjacked him?"

  "Yeah, and I wasn't amused."

  "Well I'm not finding it terribly amusing myself at the moment. Jesus, Tom, I think I carjacked your dad."

  "What?" His voice came out half-strangled, his eyes wide.

  Maris moaned. "Yeah, I saw his key ring when I took his keys away from him. It had a gold, engraved tag on it that said, Jess Eberson, Double J Ranch. Jess? Is that your—"

  A deep rumble started in Tom's chest and burst forth as a full fledged chuckle. "I gave him that key ring for Christmas a few years ago."

  "Oh, jeez."

  Tom continued to laugh and it was the most uplifting sound she'd heard in weeks. "He's never going to let you live this down, you know? You'll never hear the end of it."

  "Oh, great. Do you think he'll remember it was me? I mean, I was only in his nice big Suburban with him for a few minutes. There's always the possibility he won't remember, right?"

  Tom guffawed. "Yeah, with this hair?" He twisted a curl around his finger. "Like anyone could mistake you for someone else. What are you going do, show him your fake ID and tell him he must have been hallucinating?"

  "Well I could try, couldn't I?" Maris grinned, and feigned her best French accent. "But, monsieur, I was nowhere near Denver on the day in question."

  By this time, they were both laughing so hard they could hardly sit up straight.

  Suddenly Tom grabbed her and kissed her soundly. "Do you have any idea how much I love you? How much I appreciate all the things you've done for me?"

  Maris smiled and a slow heat built inside her at the glow in his eyes. "I know. And do you know how much I love you, and how much I appreciate what you went through last night to come back and get me?"

  His eyes grew more intense and the heat in her body sprang into an open flame.

  "Yes. I know."

  He ran his fingers through the curls around her face, and swept up another strand, this time tickling her on the cheek with it. Blood rushed through her system, the fire of her need a painful agony.

  Slowly, he kissed her again, running his tongue over her lips and teeth, then playfully nipping at her lower lip. She nipped back, and moaned into his mouth, which caused him to bite again harder, then suck at the spot where he'd bitten.

  Her insides grew molten with desire.

  He drew away from her and his eyes burned with unspoken passion.

  That look was all the invitation she needed. She led him farther back under the overhang, took the rifle out of his hands and placed it on the ground within easy reach. Deftly, she slid the camouflage pants and his boxers down over his long, firm legs.

  He, in turn, did the same with her jeans and panties.

  Then, unable to wait any longer, she pushed him down into a sitting position and lowered herself onto his lap, teasing for a moment against his straining
hardness, then dropping onto him all the way.

  They both gasped at the joining.

  Tom took her head between his hands and pulled her lips to his, demanding her surrender. Hungry for him, she opened her mouth to him again, and their tongues danced together. Heat coursed through her, causing her to grind her hips against him, pushing him farther inside.

  Suddenly, in a no-nonsense manner, he moved his hands to her bottom, and without pulling out of her, lifted her up, then lay her down on her back. He filled her as no else ever could. She closed her eyes and let the sheer physical pleasure of it take over, focusing only on Tom inside her.

  Then she heard his deep voice against her ear. "Look at me, Mare."

  She did. He hadn't moved inside her yet, but she felt him buried deep, pulsating within her. And it nearly put her over the edge.

  His eyes demanding her attention, he said in the voice that she loved so very much, that caused her to tingle all over, "I swear to you on my life, Maris, I will never leave you again."

  Her throat tightened with welling emotion. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her body burned with unbridled passion. She stared into his intense gaze and touched her fingers against his lips. "I know," she whispered.

  With a groan, he pulled himself nearly out of her, then drove home deep and hard. Maris cried out as he filled her to overflowing, reaching some well of desire that up to now had remained untapped.

  He pulled out, then thrust again. They both moaned this time, and tears spilled out her eyes, leaving wet trails down her cheeks.

  Grabbing hold of his firm rear end, the next time she helped him thrust, pushing him to an even greater depth. Every nerve ending in her body stood at attention.

  Again. Farther, deeper. Having him solid and powerful inside her body, his heat scorching her, inflamed her as never before.

  Over and over he drove into her, both of them crying out from the intensity of it. The raw passion between them so thick, so tangible, that Maris wondered in some foggy recess of her mind, if they'd ever recover from it. If it was too much, this love they shared, this hunger they had for each other.

 

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