Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family)

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Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family) Page 6

by Annie Seaton


  “When we have picked the flowers, how will we carry them back? We left the bags at the beginning of the track.” Zane’s brow wrinkled in a frown.

  Indigo looked away from him, wanting to touch him, yet angry at herself.

  “We only need gather the stamens. We will have to forgo gathering the whole bloom this trip. The stamen will suffice but it is critical that we keep them in the light,” she replied tersely. “Don’t worry. I have it under control”

  “I’m sure you do,” he replied with a smile.

  “It will be a long morning. We must risk harvesting in the heat so we can see what we are doing. We have to return to the Artemis before the time window closes.” Indigo was worried and she stared off into the distance as she did the calculations. “If we miss the departure, it may be days before the window is available again. If only we could contact Mr. Grimoult, he could start working on another departure point.”

  Zane smiled at her, lifting his wrist as he tapped his chronometer. “I can contact Mr. Grimoult.”

  “What?” she asked not understanding what he said.

  He nodded and repeated his words. “I can speak to Mr. Grimoult.”

  Indigo watched in disbelief as Zane flipped open the small cog on the side of the timepiece. A small rectangular platform rose from its center, doubling in size as it opened. A tiny brass handle joined a long shaft that ran the length of the rectangle, with a circular brass knob that made a clicking sound when depressed.

  “Have you heard of Morse code?” Zane tapped the small contraption with the tip of his finger.

  “Yes, it is a new navigational aid using a unique sequence of dots and dashes. But I thought it was done with light?” she questioned.

  “That’s correct. However, it also uses sound as a signal. When we were in the navy, Mr. Grimoult experimented with me and we managed to shrink the transmitters and insert them in our chronometers. We achieved a small measure of success and we were able to transmit and receive over long distances. I noticed Mr. Grimoult still wears his.”

  Indigo frowned. “But will there be interference from the technology of this time?”

  “One way to find out. I will send a message to him now.”

  She watched him, her body tense, as he tapped a series of dots and dashes using the small platform. Zane sat silently, not taking his eyes from the chronometer, waiting for a return signal. Parrots screeched around them, swooping in and out of the treetops as the chronometer remained silent. After ten minutes, he shrugged.

  “I hoped we would have success.” He was obviously disappointed. “Come on, let’s get started.”

  Indigo put her hand on his wrist. “It is a fascinating instrument. Thank you for trying.”

  There was a loud click and the small cogs on the side of the chronometer began to spin slowly, followed by a series of softer clicks. Zane put the timepiece close to his ear, listening intently. When the movement stopped, he grabbed Indigo, picked her up whirling her around.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she said coldly. “I told you quite clearly not to touch me unless I invite you to.” Her heart raced and she frowned at him.

  “Sorry, Madame,” Zane said, grinning at her. “It was my way of telling you that Mr. Grimoult has received our transmission. Full steam ahead, when you are ready, if you pardon the pun.”

  A quick circuit of the jungle perimeter around the plantation confirmed Indigo’s certainty the plantation remained secure. Stepping from the shade of the jungle into the open plantation, the warm sunshine caressed them like the steam of a Turkish bathhouse. Indigo stopped, pointing at the cliffs ahead, covered with a mass of brilliant blue flowers in full bloom.

  “The blue passionflower,” she said proudly. “The plant is complex. It has five sepals and five petals similar in appearance, surrounded by the blue corona. Each plant has five yellow stamens and three purple stigmas. As I said before we will only be able to collect the stamens today.” She walked to the base of the cliffs, before reaching up to pick a large bloom. “Unless by some miracle, Luis arrives with the containers.”

  Zane watched her as she gently held the stamen between her forefinger and thumb before removing it from the rest of the plant. He did not move or speak, standing silently with his arms crossed.

  “Do you have a problem with that, Captain? It is a very simple process.”

  Zane kicked at the damp mulch beneath his feet, turning his back to her, arms still folded across his chest.

  “Oh God, what now?” she asked crossly, moving around in front of him. She stared at him. “What on earth is the matter now?”

  “Madame.” Zane glared at her. “Your botanical knowledge is most impressive, however I am struggling to understand why in God’s name, we have traveled over two hundred years for the collection of this plant. I have seen it growing wild in our time, against sunny walls on the Cornish coast. Indeed, some of my voyages in the navy were to protect expeditions that brought back this same plant to the temperate gardens of Cornwall.” He shook his head and his frustration was apparent.

  “Place your trust in me, Captain. If you recall, you were commissioned solely, to pilot my submarine. It is necessary.” Reaching to touch his arm, she smiled as Zane walked toward the vines. “Now we must commence work. And watch out for snakes.”

  The morning grew hotter and perspiration trickled down Indigo’s back and her shirt stuck to her uncomfortably. Working their way through the plantation, she insisted Zane break regularly to drink plenty of water. Finally they reached the plants at the base of the cliff and she waved to him, calling him to join her at the point where the vines snaked up the cliff face.

  “Now, to answer one of your many questions, Captain.” With a mischievous smile, Indigo continued. “Take off your shirt.”

  Zane did not move.

  “Please,” she added.

  He pulled his shirt off over his head and Indigo fought for self-control as she gazed at the well-sculpted chest in front of her. Tearing her eyes away, she held her hands together, fighting the urge to run her fingers across the taut stomach where a V of dark hair snaked into his jeans. Smiling up at him, she knelt down, using her knife to slit his T-shirt open down one side, laying it flat on the ground. Gently lifting each stamen from the small pile gathered, Indigo placed them on the cotton fabric. “Now we only need a few more of the larger blooms that grow on the cliff face and we will have enough. Can you climb up there?”

  Nodding, Zane climbed a couple of meters up the cliff face, gaining footholds in the twisted stems of the vine. Drinking the last of her water, Indigo watched as he carefully removed the stamens from the largest blooms that were tucked into a small crack and protected from the weather. He cradled them gently against his bare chest and he stretched out for those just beyond his reach. The muscles in his tanned back flexed when he reached for the highest passionflowers, and the now familiar warmth worked its way down to the juncture between her thighs.

  Can I trust him?

  He was certainly a fine physical specimen. The captain would make a pleasant addition to her enterprise and to her bed. Making a sudden decision, Indigo followed her instincts, calling up to him. “You have gathered enough, Captain. We must rest before we make our way back to the river before dark.”

  After carefully laying out the rest of the stamens on his T-shirt, where they would capture the full sunlight, she collected their water bottles and sauntered toward the cliff, beckoning Zane to follow her. She moved ahead of him and walked through the sheer cliff, slipping through the fissure in the rock face. His footsteps echoed behind her as he followed her through the opening in the cliff, which was wide enough for two people to walk abreast. Rainbows reflected off the sheer walls and the noise of flowing water surrounded them.

  Stepping out onto a wide rock platform, Zane drew a deep breath as shafts of light from the afternoon sun turned the mighty river into a stream of molten gold below them. A magnificent vista of green jungle edged with the distant deep blue of
the Pacific Ocean spread beyond the Amazon River. Steep rocky cliffs tumbled away beneath them and a fine mist rose from the surging water of the roaring waterfall cooling their overheated bodies. Indigo pointed eastward, where a high snow-capped mountain disappeared in the clouds.

  “Nevada Mismo. The source of the Amazon.” She smiled up at him.” Now, I hope you are not prudish, sir, as I am in desperate need of a cooling shower.” He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she removed her boots, setting them aside in a dry corner. Her jeans, T-shirt and minuscule red undergarment quickly joined them before she strode across past him and stepped into the fine mist

  She beckoned him with a tilt of her head. “You are more than welcome to join me.” Stepping into the curtain of cascading water, she turned and smiled at him as he quickly placed his boots, clothes and chronometer on the ground before following her into the fine mist. The clear water cascaded over their bodies, icy cold from the snow that fed the waterfall.

  Zane stepped toward her, his arms stiffly by his side. Holding her gaze, he sought permission. “Are you ready for my touch now, Indigo?”

  She leaned over and kissed him hard, pushing her breasts into his bare chest and he gently turned her around. She arched back against him and he bent down to kiss the beauty spot on her shoulder.

  “I have wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he murmured.

  Tangling her luxuriant hair in his hands, he pulled her head back, sliding his lips down her neck, and Indigo pressed herself against him.

  “I need to touch you,” she whispered softly. Turning, she wrapped her hands around the silken length of his manhood. A shudder rippled through him as she brushed him with fingers as light as a butterfly wing. He sighed and Indigo pushed him against the hard wall of the cave and lifted her legs, wrapping them high around him, opening to him.

  “Now,” she demanded her voice thick with lust. Zane followed her lead. He entered her and she trembled in his arms. Waves of pure pleasure washed over him when she shuddered, out of control as she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure. He continued to pleasure her and her breath mingled with his as he moved slowly until he could hold back no longer. A guttural cry left his lips as he climaxed and he closed his eyes, dropping his head on her shoulder and Indigo turned into him allowing his lips to slide down her neck. She loosened her hold on him as he bent, putting his arms under her knees. Zane picked her up, his strong arms easily carrying her across to the ferns growing beside the waterfall. He laid her gently in the soft greenery, using his tongue to master her mouth and body until Indigo begged for completion. Sated, he held her close and they dozed lightly for a short time.

  Zane woke slowly, his muscles aching from the physical work in the plantation. Indigo turned to him and cupped his face in her hands before placing her lips gently on his.

  “It is time to leave, Captain,” she said and he could hear the regret in her voice.

  The cascading waters provided a cooling shower and quenched their thirst. They dressed quickly and made their way back to the plantation. Maracuja fruit picked from the vine at the base of the cliff satisfied their hunger. Crossing the plantation to the edge of the jungle, Zane sensed Indigo gradually withdraw from him as they prepared for the return journey. Carefully wrapping the stamens in his shirt, she reminded him of the need to keep them in the light.

  “They must be opened and exposed to the sunlight at least once an hour. It is not long until sunset.”

  Sending a quick message to Mr. Grimoult letting him know of their success and imminent departure, Zane set the alarm cog on his chronometer to an hour hence. Setting off down the shorter path, he led the way ignoring the stinging of his skin when the thorny vices slashed his bare chest and arms. Indigo followed him quietly and did not speak. The trudged silently through the afternoon heat and descended the path more quickly than the trip up into the plantation.

  Zane stopped suddenly, pulling Indigo off the track into the jungle as a loud buzzing intruded on their senses. She pushed him away with both hands flat on his scratched chest. He glared back at her, grabbed her shoulders and sat her on the trunk of a fallen tree.

  “Stay there, Madame.” He spoke quietly but firmly and passed her the shirt containing the stamens. “The hour is almost up. Make use of the time to give them some light.” Indigo’s mouth dropped open. He smiled when she obeyed him without argument.

  Zane crept silently along the edge of the trail; he was satisfied that Indigo was safe on the log. He slowed, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose as a sweet smell drifted across his to him. He moved closer to the source of the noise. Carefully making a break in the foliage at the edge of the path, he peered out through the gap and gagged as the bile hit his throat.

  A body lay sprawled across the track, the throat slit from ear to ear. Black congealed blood circled the gaping throat like a macabre necklace. Luis was almost unrecognizable; the intense heat of the jungle and the carrion feeding on the body had rendered it to a pulp. Huge black army ants marched through his eyes, mouth and nostrils. Zane turned back to the jungle, silently making his way back across the slippery ground. Indigo sat quietly, the stamens spread around her in the filtered sunlight, as she stared into the distance. Her beauty contrasted with the ugly scene further down the path. Zane’s stomach tightened, and protective warmth surging through him. Pushing herself up from the log, Indigo turned to face him, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Well?” she demanded but her face was pale.

  Zane walked slowly toward her, and sat on the log dropping his head to his hands. Indigo reached over, the warmth of her hand clutching at his bare shoulder, soothed him.

  “Luis?”

  “Yes.” Zane closed his eyes, unable to block the horrific sight from his mind.

  “Is it safe?”

  “I think so. There is no sign of anyone, but we must take great care.” Zane pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.

  Lifting her head, Indigo said, “I think it may be best if we go back the long way.”

  Zane nodded. “I think that would be best.” He did not want her to see the putrefied remains of her guide.

  * * * *

  It took them three hours to complete the return trip. Arriving back at the small bay, hot and tired, they stood in the deep cover of the thick foliage and Indigo sagged with relief when she saw the barge was still tied to the pontoon.

  “Thank God,” she breathed.

  The cacophony of the jungle disappeared as the sun slipped under the horizon. Indigo’s limbs trembled with exhaustion but Zane insisted on waiting until it was dark before they left the cover of the jungle. Indigo followed him quietly to the barge. Dropping silently onto the deck, he moved across to the motor.

  “Damn. The motor has been sabotaged. They have ensured if Luis had company, no one could leave.”

  “You’re the mariner,” Indigo whispered in frustration. “What do we do now?” She disliked feeling helpless and being dependent on another, especially a man did not sit comfortably with her.

  “Wait here.” Zane disappeared up the muddy bank before she could stop him.

  A few moments later, he scrambled down the bank carrying two long sticks.

  “We’ll pole down the river. The current will be with us on the way back.” He passed one of the long sticks over. “I trust you have some strength left to help?”

  “I will try,” she replied shortly.

  Zane pushed the barge away from the bank using the pole to steer out into middle of the river. The swift current swept them along and all was quiet in the villages they passed. The moon rose and the small bays and inlets were faintly visible to them, and it was with great relief that Indigo finally recognized the bay where their journey had begun.

  She grabbed his arm and pointed before they swept passed it and Zane turned the barge into the short pier. Indigo slumped, exhausted, across the back of the barge, and carefully cradled the stamens as he secured the boat. He held out a gentle hand her to a
s she stepped onto the bank and she grasped on to him tightly as he led their way to the deserted building.

  * * * *

  Zane woke with a start when the morning orchestra of the jungle roused him from a deep sleep. Rolling over, he peered down to the lower bunk where Indigo was still fast asleep. After swinging down off the top bed, he gently shook her bare shoulder, running his fingers down the scratches on her arm. Indigo woke slowly, her face rosy with sleep. Smiling sweetly as she reached for him, she pulled him down for a most satisfying meeting of their lips.

  “Thank you, Captain Dogooder, you worked hard yesterday.” Her lips were soft against his and he pulled back reluctantly, aware they had to leave soon.

  As Indigo used the radio in the building to contact the expedition base and advise them of Luis’ fate, Zane carefully packed the stamens into two plastic crates from the storage area. He groaned softly when he reached into the back of the Land rover; his muscles sore from the exertion of the day before. Pulling on an old shirt he found in the back of the vehicle, Zane smiled at the look on Indigo’s face as she came out of the building.

  “At least it covers the scratches,” he said.

  She seemed very unsure of him since their tryst under the waterfall. Although she now accepted his decisions, he was still wary of her temper.

  Unease settled in his chest when she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are you able to drive one of these vehicles?”

  “As you are unable to drive—” she snapped “—I will have to manage. Come on, we are running out of time.”

  The acceleration pushed Zane back in his seat when she pressed the pedal to the floor. He put both hands over his eyes as the Land Rover slewed toward a steep ravine. Indigo held tightly to the steering wheel, her knuckles white, as the vehicle slid sideways down the steeper hills. A couple of times, when it shuddered sideways through the corrugations on the road, Zane gripped the sides of the seat. Each time he cringed, Indigo threw her head back, laughing as she took great delight in his reaction.

 

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