and back to him. “Didn’t we move here? I thought you wanted to live someplace where we could be alone and stay naked all day long together.”
Her words struck a chord deep in his memory. A vision of another time and place. Rain falling softly against the roof. A breeze ruffling the curtains at an open window. Rachael turning over in an ornately carved bed, her dark, chocolate eyes filled with love. With that same honest admiration. Soft laughter played like a movie in his head. Her voice. Soft and sultry and sinfully tempting.
Emotion choked him. He didn’t know what he felt, only that it was all-encompassing.
“Did I say that?” The cloth moved over the swell of her breast, lingered in the valley and slipped along the soft underside. “I surprise myself sometimes. It sounds like a very good idea.”
“When I look at you, there’s a light surrounding you.” Her expression was mischievous, teasing. “I’d say a halo, but certain parts of your anatomy seem to be keeping you from sainthood.”
“Or elevating me to that status.” He had no idea where the words came from, or that teasing, familiar tone. He was always gruff and surly with strangers, yet Rachael didn’t feel like a stranger to him. He dipped the cloth in the bowl Of water and allowed it to trace the soft swell of her breast. Even that felt familiar to him. He knew her body intimately. He knew there would be a small birthmark right above her buttocks on the left side if he turned her over. He knew the feel of dipping his tongue into her enticing belly button and making a slow foray lower. He knew exactly what she would taste like. It was in his mouth, a honeyed spicy tang that always left him craving more.
“Do you know me, Rachael?” He leaned close, his gaze capturing hers. “When you look at me, do you know me?”
She flung out her hand so that her fingertips rested ultimately on his bare thigh. “Why do you ask me that? Of course I know you. I love just lying in bed with you, your arms around me, listening to the rain. Listening to the sound of your voice and the stories you tell.” Her smile was far away, dreamy. “It’s always been my favorite thing to do.”
She was burning up with fever. Her body was so hot to his touch he was afraid the cloth was going to burst into flames. He bathed her wrists and the back of her neck, beginning to feel desperate. The wind cooled the room but her body was flushed a bright red. Her leg was a mess, swollen and infected, blood oozing from the wound. His stomach lurched.
“Rachael.” He said her name in despair. Her palm was burning a hole through his skin where it rested.
“You’re afraid for me.”
“Yes,” he answered honestly. Because he was. For both of them. He was as confused as she was. Abruptly he rose and prowled across the room to stand in the open door. The wind was dying down, a lull before the next wave hit. He was moody and restless and uncomfortable in his own home. The forest beckoned, the treetops swaying, leaves nearly silver as they rustled all around him with their own strange melody. He found the sound soothing in the midst of his uncertainty.
Rio knew Rachael intimately, yet he’d never laid eyes on her. Certain things were familiar, more than familiar, nearly a part of him, like breathing. He pushed a hand through his hair, needing the peace of the jungle. Rachael’s gaze followed him wherever he went. “Look.”
He didn’t turn around, didn’t want to meet the blatant appreciation in her gaze when she looked at him. He didn’t like the fact that the heat between them was a tangible thing when she was so obviously ill.
“I am looking.”
She sounded amused and for some reason, his stomach did that idiotic flipping thing he knew to associate with her.
“Go to sleep, Rachael,” he ordered sternly. “ I’m going to try the radio again, see if I can get you some help. I may be able to pack you out of here to an open area where we can bring in a chopper
Her words struck a chord deep in his memory. A vision of another time and place. Rain falling softly against the roof. A breeze ruffling the curtains at an open window. Rachael turning over in an ornately carved bed, her dark, chocolate eyes filled with love. With that same honest admiration. Soft laughter played like a movie in his head. Her voice. Soft and sultry and sinfully tempting.
Emotion choked him. He didn’t know what he felt, only that it was all-encompassing.
“Did I say that?” The cloth moved over the swell of her breast, lingered in the valley and slipped along the soft underside. “I surprise myself sometimes. It sounds like a very good idea.”
“When I look at you, there’s a light surrounding you.” Her expression was mischievous, teasing. “I’d say a halo, but certain parts of your anatomy seem to be keeping you from sainthood.”
“Or elevating me to that status.” He had no idea where the words came from, or that teasing, familiar tone. He was always gruff and surly with strangers, yet Rachael didn’t feel like a stranger to him. He dipped the cloth in the bowl Of water and allowed it to trace the soft swell of her breast. Even that felt familiar to him. He knew her body intimately. He knew there would be a small birthmark right above her buttocks on the left side if he turned her over. He knew the feel of dipping his tongue into her enticing belly button and making a slow foray lower. He knew exactly what she would taste like. It was in his mouth, a honeyed spicy tang that always left him craving more.
“Do you know me, Rachael?” He leaned close, his gaze capturing hers. “When you look at me, do you know me?”
She flung out her hand so that her fingertips rested ultimately on his bare thigh. “Why do you ask me that? Of course I know you. I love just lying in bed with you, your arms around me, listening to the rain. Listening to the sound of your voice and the stories you tell.” Her smile was far away, dreamy. “It’s always been my favorite thing to do.”
She was burning up with fever. Her body was so hot to his touch he was afraid the cloth was going to burst into flames. He bathed her wrists and the back of her neck, beginning to feel desperate. The wind cooled the room but her body was flushed a bright red. Her leg was a mess, swollen and infected, blood oozing from the wound. His stomach lurched.
“Rachael.” He said her name in despair. Her palm was burning a hole through his skin where it rested.
“You’re afraid for me.”
“Yes,” he answered honestly. Because he was. For both of them. He was as confused as she was. Abruptly he rose and prowled across the room to stand in the open door. The wind was dying down, a lull before the next wave hit. He was moody and restless and uncomfortable in his own home. The forest beckoned, the treetops swaying, leaves nearly silver as they rustled all around him with their own strange melody. He found the sound soothing in the midst of his uncertainty.
Rio knew Rachael intimately, yet he’d never laid eyes on her. Certain things were familiar, more than familiar, nearly a part of him, like breathing. He pushed a hand through his hair, needing the peace of the jungle. Rachael’s gaze followed him wherever he went. “Look.”
He didn’t turn around, didn’t want to meet the blatant appreciation in her gaze when she looked at him. He didn’t like the fact that the heat between them was a tangible thing when she was so obviously ill.
“I am looking.”
She sounded amused and for some reason, his stomach did that idiotic flipping thing he knew to associate with her.
“Go to sleep, Rachael,” he ordered sternly. “ I’m going to try the radio again, see if I can get you some help. I may be able to pack you out of here to an open area where we can bring in a chopper
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