Man of Passion by Lindsay McKenna Page B

time I'm in the jungle, my real home. Coming to the city is painful to me. I don't like the sounds, the noise or the congestion." As he rose to his full height, he held her gaze. She was still standing there, her hands clasped to her breast. There was something innocent and pure about Ari that he'd seen only in children—never in a woman. And she was certainly a woman.
    "And you prefer your jungle home?"
    He climbed the ladder to the cockpit, situated on top of the galley and living quarters and protected on three sides by wood and glass panels. "How do you say it? I'm a country boy at heart? That is norteamericano slang for where my spirit lives." He took a key out of his pocket and inserted it into the console. With one twist of the key the motor began to growl and white water began to churn at the stern.
    Suddenly, Ari wanted to join him in the cockpit. But she realized Rafe was right: she had to get out of her skirt. If she tried to climb that ladder, she'd trip and hurt herself. She'd shown him her awkward side already and she wasn't about to do it again.
    "Hey, wait just a minute? Let me change. I want to join you and see how you get out of here."
    Rafe nodded as he watched her bolt across the deck and hurry down the wooden steps. "Sure," he called. "Take your time. We're in no hurry." Stunned that she obviously relished being on the boat and looked forward to seeing more of the river and jungle, he shook his head. Was he loco? Or was she? Ari's reaction to everything seemed genuine. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself feeling a tad better about her being at his camp.
    As he gazed across his beloved river at the dark green jungle on the other side, Rafe sighed deeply. He felt smitten, a little giddy with joy. All because of Ari. What a wild and natural woman she appeared to be. Was she really? That would be too much to hope for. He wasn't sure she really even knew herself. She was more spontaneous child than conservative adult. He grinned sourly. He hadn't known what to expect with Ari. Since she was the daughter of a powerful man in the U.S. , he'd thought she'd be confident, arrogant and very socially conscious. Well, scratch his assumptions; Ari was none of those things.
    As he looked around, the gentle movement of the boat comforting him like a welcoming lover, Rafe smiled again. Life was full of surprises. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve the gift of Ari Worthington, but one thing was for sure, he was going to give the river goddess her due for such an incredible surprise. If Ari was a gift and not a lie wrapped up in a beautiful package. Life had never looked brighter—or more hopeful to him on one hand. On the other, he was wary of Ari and her reasons for being here. In his business, he was alone most of the time. Women of his station would refuse to have a relationship with him—much less think of marriage—because he was never in Manaus . He lived and worked in the jungle—where his heart was, where his soul thrived.
    Glancing below, Rafe placed his hand lovingly on the wooden wheel and waited patiently for Ari. She was worth waiting for because he would now see the Amazon through her eyes. The eyes of a child-woman who was enthralled with the beauty of this incredible place on the Equator, a beauty few people knew of. Yes, life was more hopeful, more tempting, than he could ever recall. Then again, Justine had acted just as enthralled about the journey to his camp, too. In due time, Rafe would begin to see the real Arianna Worthington. One way or another.

Chapter Four

    Breathless with anticipation, Ari hurried up the teakwood steps. She noted that they were sadly in need of sanding and revarnishing . The houseboat was very old, well-worn and lived in, she realized, now that she'd had a chance to see the living quarters. Rafe was obviously neat and clean, despite his disheveled appearance at the airport, though everything was cramped down below. There was a sofa that doubled as a