beeches and laurels and pandanus instantly cutting off sight of the shimmering sea and the cooling trade winds that blew across it. Here all was shadow and steamy, smothering heat and the heavy smell of damp, fecund earth. Plunging down the steep, rocky hillside, they passed the bubbling thermal pond with its faintly lingering odor of cooked meat, and then the first hot springs India had seen. And still the primeval forest yawned around them, seemingly empty and silent except for the furtive rustling of small unseen creatures, and the loudly screeched complaint of a vivid-hued parrot.
"Are they following us?" she finally asked, when she could bear the suspense no longer.
The man beside her didn't slacken his pace, although he did throw her an amused look. "Shall we linger for a while and see what happens?"
She lapsed into silence again. The path here ran through an area of rocky outcroppings beside sheer, unexpected drop-offs, and she was finding it difficult at such a pace to keep her footing on the steep, muddy path. Once, her foot slid in an unexpected patch of muck and shot off into space, and she found she was grateful for the tight grip he'd continued to hold on her arm, even though he almost dislocated her shoulder pulling her back up beside him onto the trail.
She grabbed a handful of the loose cotton shirt at his chest and held on to it as she swayed slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He gripped her other shoulder to steady her, his straight dark brows drawing together as he studied her. "You doing all right?"
She nodded, determined. "Yes. Thank you. I simply needed a moment to catch my breath. I—"
The crack of a rifle shot echoed through the jungle. Bark flew from a tree just feet from India's face, and she let out a startled yelp.
"Bloody hell," swore Jack Ryder, and yanked her down behind the nearest boulder.
India pressed her back against the moss-covered rock. Her heart was pounding so hard, it hurt. "Those aren't cannibals," she said in a strangled whisper. "Who—"
"Hold your fire, you fool," shouted a crisp, vaguely familiar English voice from below, a voice India had last heard on the docks of Rabaul Harbor. "You could have hit Miss McKnight."
"Good heavens," said India. "It's Captain Granger."
She was aware of the man beside her stiffening, his head whipping around to pin her with a deadly blue stare. "Friend of yours?" he asked in an unpleasant drawl.
India shook her head, confused and more afraid, suddenly, than she had been up there at the summit, surrounded by cannibals.
Jack Ryder's hands descended on her shoulders, jerking her forward so that she fell into him, one hand splayed against an intimidatingly hard chest, her head forced back at an awkward angle as she stared up at him. She knew a fission of fear that took what was left of her breath and left her shaky and cold. "You bloody well set me up, didn't you?" he said, his words low and even, his lips curling back from his teeth in a fierce smile. "You bloody bitch."
India's mouth went dry. She'd thought him easygoing and lazy, an annoying but essentially harmless degenerate. Now she stared into eyes that were glittering and dangerous, and knew how wrong she'd been. She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You might as well give it up, Jack," called the English voice from below. "I've six armed seamen with me. You so much as stick your head around that boulder, and you'll lose it. This is checkmate, Jack."
He seized her wrist, spinning her around in an elbow-wrenching maneuver she didn't even comprehend until she felt her back slam against his chest and heard the bare blade of his machete whip through the air to come to rest a whisper below her chin. "You got me into this," Jack Ryder hissed in her ear, his hard arm crushing her breasts as he pinned her back against him in a deadly parody of a lover's embrace. "You can bloody well get me out of it."
"But I didn't—"
He swung his head away to shout
"Are they following us?" she finally asked, when she could bear the suspense no longer.
The man beside her didn't slacken his pace, although he did throw her an amused look. "Shall we linger for a while and see what happens?"
She lapsed into silence again. The path here ran through an area of rocky outcroppings beside sheer, unexpected drop-offs, and she was finding it difficult at such a pace to keep her footing on the steep, muddy path. Once, her foot slid in an unexpected patch of muck and shot off into space, and she found she was grateful for the tight grip he'd continued to hold on her arm, even though he almost dislocated her shoulder pulling her back up beside him onto the trail.
She grabbed a handful of the loose cotton shirt at his chest and held on to it as she swayed slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He gripped her other shoulder to steady her, his straight dark brows drawing together as he studied her. "You doing all right?"
She nodded, determined. "Yes. Thank you. I simply needed a moment to catch my breath. I—"
The crack of a rifle shot echoed through the jungle. Bark flew from a tree just feet from India's face, and she let out a startled yelp.
"Bloody hell," swore Jack Ryder, and yanked her down behind the nearest boulder.
India pressed her back against the moss-covered rock. Her heart was pounding so hard, it hurt. "Those aren't cannibals," she said in a strangled whisper. "Who—"
"Hold your fire, you fool," shouted a crisp, vaguely familiar English voice from below, a voice India had last heard on the docks of Rabaul Harbor. "You could have hit Miss McKnight."
"Good heavens," said India. "It's Captain Granger."
She was aware of the man beside her stiffening, his head whipping around to pin her with a deadly blue stare. "Friend of yours?" he asked in an unpleasant drawl.
India shook her head, confused and more afraid, suddenly, than she had been up there at the summit, surrounded by cannibals.
Jack Ryder's hands descended on her shoulders, jerking her forward so that she fell into him, one hand splayed against an intimidatingly hard chest, her head forced back at an awkward angle as she stared up at him. She knew a fission of fear that took what was left of her breath and left her shaky and cold. "You bloody well set me up, didn't you?" he said, his words low and even, his lips curling back from his teeth in a fierce smile. "You bloody bitch."
India's mouth went dry. She'd thought him easygoing and lazy, an annoying but essentially harmless degenerate. Now she stared into eyes that were glittering and dangerous, and knew how wrong she'd been. She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You might as well give it up, Jack," called the English voice from below. "I've six armed seamen with me. You so much as stick your head around that boulder, and you'll lose it. This is checkmate, Jack."
He seized her wrist, spinning her around in an elbow-wrenching maneuver she didn't even comprehend until she felt her back slam against his chest and heard the bare blade of his machete whip through the air to come to rest a whisper below her chin. "You got me into this," Jack Ryder hissed in her ear, his hard arm crushing her breasts as he pinned her back against him in a deadly parody of a lover's embrace. "You can bloody well get me out of it."
"But I didn't—"
He swung his head away to shout
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