Emerald Fire, page 4
She took a deep breath, forcing aside the dizziness as well as the incongruous thought that it came as much from being in McClintoch’s arms as it did from the swooning drop before her.
‘What am I supposed to see?’ she said, her eyes still tightly shut.
‘Dammit,’ he said angrily. ‘Are you blind? Look!’
She did—and her heart dropped to her feet.
The bridge that was supposed to cross El Kaia Gorge was gone. Where there should have been swaying rope, there was only endless, empty space.
CHAPTER THREE
THE GORGE was impossible, at least two hundred feet deep and surely twice as wide. Brionny’s gaze flew across it. What remained of the bridge hung drooping down the opposite cliff wall, swaying delicately in the wind.
Her stomach contracted into a hard, cold knot. Instinctively she clasped Slade’s encircling arms. Her fingers dug into his muscled flesh as she fought the wrenching nausea that heights had always inspired.
Slade drew her closer. ‘Easy, Stuart.’ Step by step, he moved her back until the yawning gulf was no longer at her feet. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of.’
‘I know.’ She swallowed hard. ‘It’s—it’s completely irrational, but—’
‘But entirely human.’
Brionny tilted her head back, just enough so she could see his face. He was smiling, but the smile was without derision.
‘We all have our flaws, Stuart.’
She forced a smile to her lips. ‘Not in my family,’ she said, only half jokingly.
Slade’s brows lifted. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘you’re descended from a long line of saints, hmm?’
She laughed. ‘Not saints. Scientists.’
‘And scientists don’t have irrational fears?’
‘Well, it’s not logical. I mean, when you understand what causes those fears—’
‘Bull. Who pumped you full of such garbage, Stuart? You’re as entitled to be scared of the shadows under the bed as the rest of us.’
The upside-down philosophy surprised her. Slade McClintoch was muscle and macho, a man who’d surely never been afraid of anything in his life, yet he was assuring her that it was OK to be exactly that.
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I can make you forget your phobia.’
‘You can?’
‘Sure.’
‘How?’
He smiled. ‘Like this,’ he said softly, and kissed her.
The kiss took her by surprise. There was no time to think; there was time only to feel the warmth of his lips and the answering warmth spiraling through her blood—and then sanity returned.
Brionny pushed him away. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
Slade grinned. ‘I told you. I’m helping you deal with your fear.’
‘That’s pitiful!’
‘Really? I haven’t had any complaints that I can remember.’
Her chin rose. ‘Truly pitiful—that you should have to get your women by taking advantage of them in their worst moments.’
If she’d thought to insult him, she’d failed. He grinned again and shrugged.
‘You know what they say. Whatever method works.’
‘Well, this method’s worked one time too many. Don’t try it again.’
The grin faded from his lips, was replaced by a swift and dangerous smile.
‘Threats, Stuart?’ he said softly.
Brionny forced her gaze to remain locked with his. She was in no position to threaten him and they both knew it, but backing down would be an error.
‘Promises, McClintoch. We’ll be out of this place eventually. And when we are—’
He laughed. ‘What will you do? Report me to the authorities for saving your pretty tail yet one more time?’
‘You haven’t saved anything yet,’ she said coldly. ‘Or have your forgotten that we’re standing at the edge of El Kaia Gorge—with absolutely no way to cross it?’
Her taunt hit home. There was pleasure in seeing the self-satisfied grin wiped from his face—but no pleasure at all in suddenly reminding herself of what she had, for a few minutes, managed to forget.
‘Yeah.’ Slade nodded. ‘Let me take a look at what’s left of that rope.’
She watched as he walked to the rim of the gorge, held her breath as he squatted down, grasped the short, swaying end of the rope, and drew it to him.
‘Dammit,’ he said softly.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I was right.’
Brionny took a hesitant step forward. ‘About what?’
‘The rope’s been cut!’
‘Couldn’t it have just come apart?’
Slade looked at her as if she’d suggested the bridge might have been carried off by space aliens.
‘Of course,’ he said coldly. ‘Between the time I crossed it this morning and now, all those heavy hemp strands got together, had a meeting, and decided they’d dissolve their partnership. Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic, McClintoch. My explanation is at least as reasonable as yours.’
He waved the end of the rope at her.
‘Do you see this?’
Brionny glanced at the rope, then folded her arms over her breasts. ‘So?’
‘So,’ he said through his teeth, ‘rope that comes apart by itself doesn’t do it with such neat precision.’
She looked at the rope again. ‘Neat’ was the word for it, she thought. It had been severed as cleanly as a loaf of bread.
Her eyes flew to his. ‘But—but who would—?’
‘The “who” is easy.’ She tried not to shudder as he flung the rope back over the cliff and stood up. ‘The Mali-Mali.’
‘You can’t be sure of that,’ Brionny said quickly.
‘No.’ He shot her a quick, mirthless smile. ‘I can’t be sure. Hell, can you imagine such poor manners? Whoever did this didn’t even leave a calling card.’
‘There’s no reason to be snide, McClintoch.’
‘No. And there’s no reason to stick your head in the sand. Someone cut the ropes, and we don’t have a long list of suspects.’
‘I know that. But there’s still no reason to assume—’
He swung toward her, his eyes filled with anger. ‘You and Ingram found the stone, didn’t you?’
Brionny blinked, ‘What—what stone?’
His mouth twisted. ‘Don’t play games with me, lady. You know damned well what stone. The emerald. You and the old man found it, you took it, and the Mali-Malis want it back.’
‘That’s not true! I mean— I mean, we didn’t take it. I told you, we didn’t find it.’
‘And that’s still your story?’
‘It’s not a story. It’s the truth. And you’re wasting your time, McClintoch. You’re trying to shift the blame, but you can’t.’
‘Me? Shift the blame?’ He jammed his hands on to his hips. ‘For what?’
‘If— I repeat if—the Mali-Mali really are angry, it’s at you. It was you they shot at.’
‘I was a handy target. One outsider’s the same as another as far as they’re concerned.’
‘So you say. But you were the target, not the professor and me.’
‘The operative word is “were”. Taking out the bridge puts us on an equal footing.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What’s the matter, Stuart? Can’t your highly trained, upper-class brain process this information? Let me simplify it for you. The bridge is gone. We’re stuck here, on this side of the gorge, while the Mali-Malis decide what they want to do next.’
Brionny stared at him. ‘But—surely there’s something we can do?’
Slade walked slowly to the rim and stared across it. ‘So near and yet so far,’ he said softly. ‘The construction camp is only a couple of hours’ walk.’
A couple of hours, Brionny thought, her gaze following his. A handful of miles to a field telephone, to civilization, to whoever was in charge of the company where Slade McClintoch worked, where he’d probably first heard about the easy pickings across the gorge, about the archaeologists who’d come after the fabulous emerald.
‘Won’t the construction company send someone after you when they realize you’re missing?’ Brionny felt a surge of hope. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? ‘They’ll see that the bridge is out and—’
‘No one knows I crossed El Kaia.’
‘Someone must. Your boss. Your crew chief. Whatever the man in charge is called.’
Slade looked at her. This was the time to tell her that the man in charge was called Slade McClintoch…
No, the devil within him said, don’t do that. Let the lady sweat a while; let her stop looking down her pretty nose at a man she obviously thinks is only slightly better than dirt.
He shrugged lazily. ‘I didn’t check with anybody before I took off.’
Of course, Brionny thought, she should have known better. Men like him came and went, taking jobs for a few days, walking off when they tired of the work.
‘You’ll be missed, though,’ she said, trying to keep the desperation she suddenly felt from her voice. ‘Somebody’s bound to realize you’re gone and—’
He shot her a pitying smile. ‘Give it up, Stuart. No one keeps tabs on me.’
He turned away, jammed his hands into his pockets, and paced along the rim of the gorge.
‘Damn,’ he said, ‘damn, damn, damn.’
‘What about repairing the bridge?’ Brionny said, more sharply than she’d intended. ‘Is there a chance of that?’
Slade looked at her and laughed. ‘Can you fly?’
‘I already told you, McClintoch, there’s no point in being sarcastic.’
‘Then try using your head. How can we fix a bridge we can’t reach?’
Her gaze flew over the wide chasm again. He was right. The bridge might as well have been on the moon.
‘Well, what did people do before the bridge was here?’ Slade gave her a look that made her bristle. ‘Don’t look at me that way,’ she snapped. ‘I know something about the history of this place, McClintoch. People from both sides of El Kaia have traded back and forth for centuries. Surely they didn’t always have a bridge to walk across?’
‘Yeah.’ He smiled slowly. ‘I suppose that’s true. Hell, maybe you’re not as useless as I thought.’
‘Intelligence is never useless,’ Brionny said coldly, ‘but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand that.’
Slade’s smile narrowed. ‘No. No, you’re quite right. The only things I understand are sweat and hard work. All the rest is just so much garbage.’
‘What a charming philosophy. I just— Hey. Hey!’ Her voice rose as Slade bent down, grasped an end of rope, and began to ease himself carefully over the rim. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Putting my muscles to use. As you just pointed out, it’s all I’m good for.’
He grunted softly as he began lowering himself. Brionny saw his muscles strain and expand under the soft, clinging cotton of his T-shirt. A rush of heat blazed through her blood. Vertigo, she thought, and looked quickly away.
‘What’s the matter, Stuart? I’m not going to fall, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
‘The rope’s not long enough to climb down, is it?’ she said, ignoring the taunt.
Slade shook his head. ‘Not by a long shot. But there’s a narrow ledge ten or fifteen feet down— I can get that far. There might be something below it that I can’t see from here, strong vines or maybe some footholds—’
‘Footholds?’ Brionny gave a choked laugh. ‘Only if you’re a mountain goat.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m going to check it out anyway.’ Slade squinted up at the sky. ‘We’ve got a little time before it gets dark, enough to see if we have a shot at climbing out of here at first light tomorrow.’
‘You’re crazy, McClintoch. If you fall—’
‘Oh, darling,’ he purred, ‘how sweet. I didn’t think you cared.’
Brionny glared at him. ‘Understand something. If you fall and break your head, I’m not coming down after you.’
He gave her a cocky grin. ‘Ah, the sweetness of the woman,’ he said. Clutching the rope carefully, he maneuvered down another foot. ‘Come on, Stuart, think of how great it’ll be to stand up there and say, “I told you so”, if I go crashing to the bottom.’ He looked over his shoulder, then shuddered dramatically. ‘Just be sure you say it loud enough so I can hear you. It’s a long way down.’
Brionny looked past him to the floor of the gorge. Panic clutched at her belly but she would sooner have died than let him see it. ‘Go on,’ she said, ‘have a good time. There’s no accounting for some people’s tastes.’
She turned, marched to a mossy boulder, and sat down. With a display of elaborate unconcern, she slipped her arms from the straps of her backpack and set it at her feet. Then she unlaced one of her boots, took it off, and gently massaged her toes. When she looked up again, Slade had vanished from view.
Her shoulders slumped forward. Wonderful. She was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a man whose motives were suspect, and now he’d decided to play at being a human fly. Was she supposed to pray he made it down and back in one piece—or was she better off hoping she never saw his face again? Sighing, she jammed her foot back into the boot and laced it up. If Slade was right a tribe of head-hunting Indians wanted the emerald she carried in her backpack. If she was right, it was Slade himself who wanted the stone. Either way, she was in trouble.
She leaned forward and ran her hand lightly over the nylon backpack, her fingers finding and tracing the faint outline of the small metal box that held the Eye.
Only one thing was certain. She had the stone, and she intended to keep it. She wasn’t about to lose it, not to a bunch of bloodthirsty savages or to a conniving adventurer.
Professor Ingram had devoted years of his life to finding the Eye. She had been privileged to have been with him when he’d finally achieved his goal. Now it was her responsibility to deliver the emerald safely to the museum, and that was what she would do.
She got to her feet, tucked her hands into the rear pockets of her shorts, and tapped her foot. What was taking so long? McClintoch should have been back by now. She hadn’t heard any yells or shouts of distress, so he couldn’t have fallen. Had he managed to find a way to the bottom? Come morning, would he expect her to sail over the edge the way he had, follow him down, down, down…?
She shuddered. It was best not to think about that, nor about what it would be like to claw her way up the other side. Instead, she’d concentrate on what it would be like once she was out of the jungle. She smiled. The museum officials would be delighted. Her father would be proud. Her doctorate would be guaranteed…
Where in hell was McClintoch? How long could it take to see if there was a way to the bottom of the gorge?
She took a deep breath, then moved forward a few steps, trying not to think of the chasm ahead or of the man who might lie crumpled at the bottom of it. She didn’t like him, but she certainly wouldn’t want him to break his neck.
‘McClintoch?’ she said.
There was no answer. She frowned and took another couple of steps forward. Thickening shadows were beginning to crowd the gorge, turning it from a deep valley into a mysterious slash in the face of the earth.
A chill ran along Brionny’s skin. She thought of the first night she’d spent in the rainforest, how nothing had prepared her for the blackness that had suddenly enclosed the campsite. Professor Ingram had looked across the glowing fire at her and given her one of his rare smiles.
‘Incredible, isn’t it, Miss Stuart?’ he’d said.
It had certainly been that. The night had seemed like a living, breathing creature, one with a somewhat malevolent intent. She’d shifted her camp chair closer to a pool of yellow light thrown by one of the butane lanterns.
But there’d be no lanterns tonight. And if Slade didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t be able to see clearly enough to climb back up.
‘McClintoch?’ she said. The word came out a whisper, and she cleared her throat and tried again. ‘McClintoch? Can you hear me?’
Dammit, where was he?
Something rustled behind her and she looked around, her eyes scanning the perimeter of the jungle. The trees seemed black, almost ominous. The sounds of the night were picking up now, the hiss and hum of insects mingling with the growing chirrup-chirrup of the tree frogs. Soon there’d be other noises too—the growls and grunts of the hunters, the shrill cries of their prey—
Brionny turned a furious face to the gorge. ‘Dammit, McClintoch,’ she yelled, ‘where in hell—?’
A sudden, awful roar burst from the jungle behind her. Brionny screamed and swung around, heart hammering in her breast, then screamed again as a hand fell on her shoulder.
‘Easy,’ Slade said. ‘Easy, Stuart. It’s only me.’
She spun toward him. ‘Where in God’s name have you been?’
His brows lifted. ‘That’s a hell of a greeting.’
‘Do you know how long you have been gone?’
‘No.’ He grinned. ‘I forgot to take along a timer.’
Enraged, she struck out blindly, punching him in the shoulder.
‘You bastard! Is everything always a joke with you?’
‘Hey. Take it easy.’
‘Why?’ She punched him again, harder. Slade caught her wrists in one hand, imprisoning them against his chest. ‘Why should I take it easy?’ she said, her eyes flashing. ‘Do you know what it was like to sit here and wonder if you’d fallen and broken your stupid neck?’
‘Would it have mattered? You weren’t about to come after me if I had. You made that clear, remember?’
‘You’re damned right I did! And—and it would have served you right if you had fallen!’
‘Let me get this straight. Are you ticked off because I could have gotten hurt—or because I didn’t?’
Brionny stared at him. ‘I-I—’
He moved closer to her, still holding her hands in his. She could feel the slow, strong beat of his heart under her fingers.
‘Well?’ His voice was soft. ‘Which is it, Bree?’
‘Stop trying to reduce this to-to—’
