Chapter Eight
She eyed the powerful stream of water flowing down the wide river. “We’re swimming?” God, she sucked at swimming. Bring her a yoga mat or running shoes, and she could hold her own. She even knew a cool trick or two. But swimming in a bacteria-infested river? No way.
“You may not have to. This one isn’t deep,” he said, and picked up a rock from the ground and threw it in the water to make a point. However, the rock didn’t bounce off the water like she hoped. Instead, it disappeared from view.
“How comforting.”
“You’ll be okay. I promise.”
Can you promise I’ll be okay in the long run? She almost gave him a hard time but decided she’d face the imminent challenge first. The sound of the streaming water would have brought her tranquility if the situation was different. On the other side of the bank of dark green water, countless trees canopied the ground. More than ever, vulnerability clasped her insides. She’d agreed to stay with him until this whole mess untangled.
He studied the dirt for a moment, then brought her a long stick. “Use this to steady yourself, and stay close to me. Take off your shoes. You may slip on a rock if you wear them.”
She glanced at the stick before palming it. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
He grinned. “Yes. I’ve done it all before.”
“Is there anything you haven’t mastered?”
“Not anything I’ve wanted bad enough.”
She lowered her head as a heavy sigh fled from her lips. Sure, she was cultured and well traveled, but her life’s excitement level couldn’t compare to what Emanuel managed on any given day. No wonder he thinks I’m a privileged socialite. She clasped the stick in her hand, kicked off her shoes, and shoved them inside his backpack.
She shouldn’t care about what he thought of her. Despite their off-the-charts hot sex, once he achieved his goal he would drop her, and she’d be as rejected as the last broken item in a dollar store bargain bin.
“I’ve never crossed this with a woman.”
Her foolish heart skipped a beat. She lifted an eyebrow and tried to keep her dignity intact. “Are you trying to make me feel special?”
“No, trying to distract you.” He cocked his head in the direction of the river. “Swim with the current, never against it.” He flashed her a gorgeous smile that sent a shiver through her.
Were they still talking about crossing? “Depends on the current.” She folded her arms and glanced at the stream.
“I won’t let you drown.”
“I know you won’t.” With a sigh, she followed him along the border until he reached the area where the water didn’t seem to move as fast. A couple of bigger rocks meant she would have a place to hold on to if needed. God. She’d never thought she’d do anything like cross a river in the rainforest, and certainly not with a man hotter than David Gandy in an underwear ad.
No. She had never imagined this scenario, and while the man fascinated her, the river scared the crap out of her. Still, she tucked away her fear and swam into the water. The temperature surprised her, the warmth enveloping her. She tentatively stepped on the ground, her toes scratching against a mixture of rock and sand. A couple of fish swam by her, and her stomach fluttered. She shoved the stick to the ground for balance with every step she took.
Emanuel did a far better job, as expected, giving her sideways glances from time to time to ensure she didn’t fall behind, or slip. When they reached the middle, the current gained strength, and she sucked in a breath. The water no longer caressed her body as it pushed against her trembling legs. She clasped the stick and moved it ahead, but the stream gained speed, and she had trouble finding even ground to stake the stick.
“Hold on.” Emanuel stretched out his hand, his voice commanding. “I won’t let you go.”
She grasped his palm, swallowing her fear.
“We’ll be side by side. Trust me.”
Trusting him equaled engaging in a game of well-played chess and discovering the board was made of thin paper and not sturdy wood. Yet, she had no other choice, and for what it was worth, it was in his best interest to keep her alive. “If we fall, we fall together, right?” She repeated what he’d told her the previous night in the throes of passion. She intended to add some sarcasm to her tone but ended up sounding matter-of-fact and hated herself for it.
Emanuel squeezed her hand a bit, the touch reassuring her to the bone. She switched the weight of her body from left to right, doing as she was told, entranced by the amazing smile on his face.
Like a fascinated teenager on a date with her first crush, she drank in the sight of him. The full lips, the straight white teeth, the olive coloring. Only when the water became shallow did she glance down to realize the crossing had ended.
“Wow.” She squeezed the extra water off her shirt while her jeans clung to her uncomfortably. “That was amazing.”
He winked at her. “You did great.”
Emanuel was proud of her. A sense of empowerment swirled through her, but she willed it away. No. She had spent her whole life vying for her father’s approval. Transferring that need to another guy was beyond dumb, especially a guy who would say good-bye to her in order to get what he wanted. Did it matter that what he wanted would bring justice and benefit a cause?
She shook her head. Blurring the lines would not benefit her in the slightest.
Toughen up, girl. You can do it.
“You haven’t said much since the river,” Emanuel said.
She cleared her throat. During the last hour, she’d kept her cool, at least on the outside. Her pants were semi-dried but they clung to her skin, and every step she took was like carrying an ankle weight on each leg. The more she thought about her situation, the more silence made sense. Why was she acting like a fool in love when this mission should be emotion free? At the end, she would be the one with a broken heart, not him. Emanuel could survive and probably had done so many times.
“Yeah.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just contemplating that’s all.” She forced a smile and pointed at the trees.
He shrugged off his backpack and grabbed a water bottle. “Contemplate this,” he said firmly. “I’ve worked with this tribe in the past, and that’s why they agreed to help me out and host these people without knowing them. The camp is wide and some locals will be friendlier than others. Be respectful of their traditions, and follow my lead.”
Even though the temperature registered triple digits, she shivered. She never visited people unless they invited her. Even with the tension involving her and Emanuel when he first, well, captured her, he had wanted her there. Kidnapped her. “Will they be okay with me in there? I mean, they believe I’m the reason their son is missing. I’m Silas’s daughter. Can you say persona non grata?” After the words fled her mouth, she noticed the negative intonation connected to her father’s name. What do I believe?
“Not anymore.” Emanuel took a big gulp of water. When he removed his shirt, she gathered every ounce of self-control she owned and kept her eyes above his neck. Anything else would be risky. “I’ll tell them you’re my companion who’s visiting from the U.S.”
She blinked, and against her will, her gaze slid down his chest. Her throat suddenly felt desert dry. Was focusing on his hotness an escape mechanism to keep her from admitting to herself the truth about her father? Maybe. She could be binge eating or drinking, right? He wrapped the shirt on the handle and slid the heavy backpack on again like it weighed nothing. His pectorals bunched, droplets of water sliding between the taut ridges of his body.
“Oh.”
“It’ll be dangerous for you if anyone suspects who you are. However, I doubt anyone will. The locals don’t necessarily follow Silas’s life online. Thankfully, you’ve been a rather quiet heiress.”
The least sexy way he could describe her. “You mean boring.”
He shook his head. “I mean you’re not a Paris Hilton.”
A compliment at last. “Thank you.”
“We’ll call your father again. After not hearing from you for a few days, he will be more willing to help.”
She didn’t say much during the rest of the hike. Should she tell him about the chance her father didn’t want her back? Wouldn’t her father feel betrayed if one of the men he’d sent told him she came back for the kidnapper? Would he even try to rescue her again?
“You’re the face of the charity,” Emanuel said as if reading her mind. “He needs you more than ever, especially with everything that’s about to happen. If this ordeal goes public, how do you think he’ll look to his business partners and the population if he didn’t do everything in his power to get his daughter back? The sweet woman who’s all that is left of his family. After we get Raul back and sue him, Silas’s P.R. team will work with legal. Perception is everything.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” she said in a strained voice. A hot tingle pressed the back of her eyes, and if she allowed it, tears would form and fall down her cheeks. She clamped her lips hard until they shifted into one thin line and willed the sadness away.
…
Emanuel stepped toward the community of dozens of ocas, or makeshift huts. He wondered how she’d handle the simple shelters built with logs and with rooves of wood and taquara, a type of grass that resembled small bamboo. Would she frown at the mandatory opening of the ocas? He doubted she’d ever slept without a door until he kidnapped her.
Erika had to be exhausted from their hike, but to his surprise she never complained. In fact, she didn’t say much after they crossed the river. Her silence bothered him, and although his legs heaved with exhaustion, an annoying restlessness worked its way into his freaking gut. “We’re here.”
She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched out her upper body without taking her eyes off the scenery in front of them. Several members of the tribe worked together, picking fruits and vegetables from a wicker basket and placing some of them in smaller ones.
Most of them wore their typical attire—men with the fabric hiding their privates with exposed chests, and women with cotton dresses hiding their private parts and breasts. A few of them, older and more traditional, didn’t wear anything to hide their top.
“Some of them are topless.” She folded her arms. “That’s not a requirement, right? Since I’m just a visitor.”
He bit back a smile and tried to put on a serious face. The image of her gorgeous, pert breasts swinging free from clothes made his pulse race, and his cock strained against his jeans. “You would make them mad if you refused their most traditional costumes.” Of course he would never allow her to go topless in front of any other males, but the idea of having her again, feasting on her body, made him harder than the wood logs keeping the ocas erect.
“Are you going to wear that napkin on your crotch, too?”
A chuckle floated up his throat. “Why? Would you like me to?” The same way I’d like to view you topless for my eyes only?
“Of course not.” She leaned closer with an unreadable gleam in her eyes. “I get it. You’re joking. I don’t need to go topless.”
He withdrew, amused. “How do you know?”
“When you lie…you twitch your left eye a bit. And smile.”
The comment disarmed him. Lying wasn’t on his everyday agenda, but having her get such a good glimpse about him—and point out something he himself never paid attention to—lowered his defenses further, and the feeling tightened his chest. “I’ll have to remember to be more careful. Maybe we should go back to talking about you getting topless. Only not for public view.” His voice dropped an octave. Damn it. Why couldn’t he control his own reactions to her?
She lifted her chin. “I’ll pass.”
Ibaque, the twenty-something man who spoke Portuguese and not just their tribe dialect like most of the others, sharpened his spear in the distance. When he saw them, he placed it on the bench carefully, giving it the respect it deserved, then rushed in their direction. “Oi, Emanuel. I thought you’d call first. Are you here to check on your guests? They have been on the other side of the camp. No problems so far.”
Emanuel shook his hand. “Thank you, but I’m here because we need to lay low for a bit. Change in plans. This is my friend Erika. She doesn’t speak Portuguese.”
Ibaque’s eyes drifted from him to Erika. He nodded at her and flashed her a warm smile, greeting her in his native tongue.
“Nice to meet you,” she whispered.
“Are we safe with her?” Ibaque asked without dimming his smile at her. “Does she know anything about the people we’re hiding?”
“Give the girl a break. She doesn’t even speak the language. She’s, hmm, someone who’s very important to me,” Emanuel said. Thank goodness he hadn’t spelled out his plans to kidnap Silas’s daughter to Raul’s parents. The easiest way to screw up a plan was to share it with the world—or in this case, with the people most invested. All he’d asked them to do was trust him—and to stay off the grid while he discovered Raul’s whereabouts.
“I apologize. If you trust her, so do we.” Ibaque gestured for them to go ahead and walked alongside them.
“Everything okay?” she murmured.
“Yes. He wanted to make sure you’re trustworthy.”
“Am I?”
“We’ll act like it,” he said in a light tone. What if she changed her mind after realizing the seriousness of the situation? She seemed to agree with him about the destroyed area, but he couldn’t shake the sensation that something changed between them. Puta merda.
Ibaque took them to an oca that was a bit smaller than the others. “The cacique went hunting with others, but he’ll return later today. You should be comfortable in here. I’ll bring the items you left last time.”
Never one to make a fuss, Emanuel simply nodded. The round space, uncluttered and carpeted with cut coconut leaves, barely allowed him to stretch up to his full height, but he’d grown used to it.
“We’re staying here,” she said, and sucked in a breath. “For how long?”
“Look at the upside. Don’t you do those thousand-dollar mud treatments? Here you’ll experience fresh air, clean living. Good for your health, your hair…” He meant to tease, but the way she frowned hinted she was anything but amused.
“No offense, but that’s a hell of a commitment to beauty.”
“You’ll survive.”
And he would, too. At least he hoped. Sharing an oca with her meant their limbs would touch, or come close to touching, every night. Ever since they’d left Manaus, he’d made a point not to act lovey-dovey so she wouldn’t imagine things. That worked because she’d kept him at arm’s length, too. Great. Why did things going according to plan disappoint him for the first time?
Emanuel wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. After leaving their stuff at the hut, her request to freshen up amused him. A layer of dust from hiking clung to their bodies, and he suggested they visit the waterfalls before meeting the cacique—their leader—later at night.
“Why is it so far? I’ve done my share of walking for the day.”
“Because this one is private. I’m assuming you didn’t want to bathe with the locals?”
“No, that would be weird. I prefer to know people better before taking off my clothes in front of them.”
He caught himself smiling. A few more steps, and they reached the gorgeous waterfall he’d seen once. Water from a clear spring dropped from the top down a small creek. Several trees and big rocks surrounded them. A monkey jumped from one branch to another, carrying a half-eaten fruit. If he wasn’t there to ensure Erika’s safety, he would find the scenery therapeutic.
“It’s gorgeous.”
He slid off his backpack, opened the small zipper, and pulled out bar soap. Standing, he gave it to her.
“Thanks. Any towels?”
He laughed. “No. The tribe dries in the sun, and I forgot to pack towels in the duffel bag I brought last time.”
“Oh.” She put her hand to her lips. “Well, whatever, I’ll figure it out. Thanks for bringing me here. I’ll find my way back.”
He raised his hand in disagreement. “I don’t think you understand…I’m staying. I’m not some errand boy. I need to keep an eye on you.” Did she expect him to turn around and head back to camp? Not happening.
She clasped the bar of soap in her hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’ve been together for a while. I need to be able to indulge in the next best thing to a shower without you looking over my shoulder. I want some breathing room.”
“Breathe all you want, princesa. We’ll take turns. You can bathe over there.” He pointed at the small dip into the spring. “I’ll turn around and won’t look. But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you to fend for yourself.” Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.
His body tensed up, the image of her soft curves flooding his mind. Sucking in his breath, he spun around with such determination the sole of his feet scratched against the rough rock.
The sound of her unzipping her jeans sent a jolt through him, and he almost freaking jumped. Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head. The heat worsened, and he opened the top two buttons of his short-sleeve shirt when snippets of fabric appeared within his field of vision.
He curled his fingers into a ball. Why the hell was he so riled up? He’d promised he wouldn’t look—he would fulfill that promise, even if his dick threatened to bust his pants open.