She could see the chill flash of his smile, even in the darkness.

  ‘Ah, but that’s only a temporary condition, isn’t it, sweetheart?’

  ‘I’m not good at riddles,’ she snapped. ‘If you’ve something to say—’

  ‘It’s simple, lady. I have your supplies. I have your gun. And, sooner or later I’ll have your emerald.’

  ‘I’ve told you and told you, I don’t have—’

  ‘Skip the lies, Stuart. I’m going to get that stone and when I do this little game we’ve been playing will take on a new set of rules.’ Slade let go of her and leaned back into the forked branch. ‘Is that clear enough?’

  It was clear, all right. Once he got what he wanted—if he got what he wanted—she’d be on her own. Whether she got back to civilization or not would be her worry.

  It certainly wouldn’t be his.

  ‘Well?’ Slade’s voice was gruff. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t got some kind of snappy comeback. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you’ve always got to have the last word.’

  Brionny’s chin rose. ‘There’s no advantage in having the last word over someone who’s not up to the challenge,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m going to try and get some rest. I’d appreciate it if you’d shut your mouth and do the same.’

  If her feet had been on the ground, she’d have pivoted on her heel and marched off. Instead she did the best she could, shifting her weight recklessly, swinging her leg across the branch, and turning her back to Slade.

  She would ignore him for the rest of the night. She wouldn’t sleep, of course. For one thing, her adrenaline was pumping like crazy, and then there was the fact that she was sitting in mid-air, with the ground an awfully long way down, something she’d somehow managed to forget until now.

  Slade seemed to read her mind.

  ‘If you try to sit balanced like that all night,’ he said with a resigned sigh, ‘you’re almost certain to fall off.’

  ‘Thank you for worrying about my comfort,’ she said primly. ‘But I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re perched out there like an acrophobic Humpty Dumpty, Stuart, which is pretty stupid when you consider that the whole idea of climbing up here was so we could relax and get some rest.’

  ‘Your concern is touching, but—’

  ‘Concern? Listen, lady, once we’re out of here you can walk a tightrope across El Kaia Gorge, for all I care. But for now, while I’m in charge—’

  ‘Put your mind at ease, McClintoch. You’re not in charge. And I’ve no intention of falling.’

  He laughed unpleasantly. ‘Neither did Humpty Dumpty.’

  ‘I can’t possibly fall because I won’t be asleep,’ Brionny said, ignoring his puny attempt at humor. ‘So you see—’ She yelped as Slade reached forward, put his arms around her, and dragged her into his embrace. ‘How dare you? Let go of—’

  ‘Relax. I’ve no evil designs on your body.’

  ‘Dammit, McClintoch! Let me go!’

  His arms tightened around her. ‘How can I steal the Eye of God from you if you fall out of this tree and get eaten by a jaguar?’

  ‘You said the jaguar was—’

  ‘I know I did. But you can’t believe anything a man like me says, Stuart, remember?’

  ‘You won’t get any argument from me,’ Brionny said tightly.

  ‘Exactly. Now, lean back against me, shut your eyes, and go to sleep.’

  ‘Sleep? Like this?’ She folded her arms over her breasts. ‘You have to be kidding.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to get some sleep. What you do is your business.’

  ‘In that case, let go of me.’

  ‘With pleasure, once the sun rises and we’re on the ground again.’ Slade tugged her unyielding body back into the cradle of his, then brought her head to his shoulder with a firm hand. ‘Until then, you can sit here and count the ways you hate me.’

  ‘There aren’t enough hours in the night for that!’

  ‘Or you can stop being an ass and relax.’

  ‘It would be easier to relax with the jaguar.’

  ‘I wouldn’t wish you on the cat. Your claws are more lethal than his.’

  ‘Honestly, McClintoch—’

  ‘I warn you, Stuart, my patience is wearing thin.’

  ‘Your patience? What do you mean, your patience? I’m the one who—’

  Slade caught her chin in his hand, turned her face to him, and silenced her with a hard, swift kiss.

  ‘Keep talking,’ he said, ‘and I’ll just have to think of some other ways to shut you up.’

  Brionny’s hands knotted into fists. ‘I hate you,’ she snapped. ‘Do you understand? I hate you, Slade McClintoch!’

  ‘Yeah.’ He yawned, put his head back, and shut his eyes. ‘I understand completely.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she said angrily, ‘because—’

  A soft, rasping sound purred from Slade’s throat. Brionny stared in disbelief, then rolled her eyes to the sky.

  Damn Slade McClintoch to hell! Wasn’t it bad enough that she was trapped in his arms for the balance of the night? Did he have to snore, too?

  She was just going to have to sit here and endure it. She wouldn’t even be able to relax. Relaxing would be… She yawned, then yawned again. Relaxing would be—it would be—

  Her head drooped against Slade’s shoulder. She gave a deep sigh and fell headlong into sleep.

  ‘Bree?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Bree. Wake up.’

  Brionny sighed. What a strange way to have fallen asleep, she thought drowsily. She was half reclining against something unyielding yet incredibly comfortable; her arms were enclosing not her pillow but something warmer and far more pleasant.

  ‘Sweetheart.’ A voice whispered softly in her ear, stirring the tendrils of hair that curled back from her cheek. ‘Bree, you have to wake up now.’

  Slowly, her lashes lifted from her cheeks. In the early dawn light Slade’s face was a breath from hers. He had a look on his face that was impossible to define, like a man caught midway between heaven and hell.

  ‘Bree.’ His gaze swept across her face. ‘Bree, I want you to listen to me.’

  How could she listen when she was trying to figure out how she’d ended up lying in his arms? With a flurry of limbs, she tried to put some distance between them but his hold on her was like steel.

  ‘I might have figured you’d try and take advantage of me the one second I let down my guard! Just because I dozed off it doesn’t mean you’re free to—’

  ‘You’ve been asleep the whole night,’ he said, his voice low and humming with a strange kind of tension.

  Brionny snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never—’

  ‘Listen to me, Bree.’

  ‘Why? So you can invent more lies?’ She slammed her fist against his shoulder. ‘Let go!’

  ‘Will you listen to me?’

  ‘Get your hands off me first.’ Slade muttered a word that made her cheeks turn scarlet. ‘You have no principles at all, McClintoch. A man who has to resort to such subterfuge—’

  She gasped as his mouth dropped to hers. She struggled wildly against his kiss. Then, slowly, she went still. Her breath quickened—and Slade took his lips from hers and pressed them to her ear.

  ‘In a little while,’ he whispered, ‘we’re going to have company.’

  She drew back and stared at him, seeing for the first time the grim look in his eyes.

  ‘The jaguar?’ she said.

  ‘No such luck,’ he said, and hesitated. He could see doubt creeping into her eyes. She knew what he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear it.

  Damn! Moments before, he’d heard the drums again, heard the change in their rhythm, and he was certain there was going to be an attack soon. Still, there was a possibility he could turn things around—if he could convince Brionny that he was telling her the truth.

  But how? How could he change the doubt in those blue eyes to belief? It had to be done quickly. There was no time to waste on another round of argument.

  There was one chance. He could do what Brionny was sure he’d been doing all along. He could lie, though he didn’t much like the idea…

  ‘I hope this isn’t going to be another story about the Mali-Mali,’ she said coolly, ‘because if it is—’

  Hell, Slade thought, lying to her was better than letting her sit here like a target in a shooting gallery.

  ‘Listen to me,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to frighten you, but I saw something a few minutes ago.’

  She stared at him, eyes watchful. ‘What?’

  ‘Two of their scouts. They were out there, just past those trees.’

  She followed his pointing finger. He could see the change coming over her face.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Slade drew her closer, hating himself for what he was doing yet praying it would do the job.

  ‘Positive.’

  She nodded. ‘At least we have a gun.’

  ‘Yeah, I thought of that.’ This was easier, because this was the truth. ‘Trouble is, I could only get a couple of them before—’

  ‘If you’re not a good shot,’ she said quickly, ‘I am.’

  ‘That’s not the problem.’

  ‘Then what is?’

  ‘We don’t know how many headhunters there are, but we’re certainly outnumbered. And our visitors will be bristling with poisoned darts, bows and arrows—against our one gun.’ Slade tried to smile. ‘The odds aren’t in our favor.’

  Brionny knew he was right.

  ‘Then what do you suggest?’

  Slade hesitated. ‘There’s one thing that might work.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’re not going to like it.’

  She smiled a little. ‘I don’t like the idea of being turned into a Mali-Mali pincushion either. Try me.’

  He drew a breath. ‘If you give up the stone, we might just have a chance.’

  She didn’t like it. The doubt came back into her eyes and she shook her head, an automatic denial on her lips.

  ‘I don’t—’

  That was as far as she got. A sound interrupted her, carried toward them on the still morning air, a soft rustling, as if an animal—or a man—was moving stealthily through the trees.

  Slade’s heart slammed against his ribs. ‘Shh,’ he murmured.

  Brionny sank back into his arms, her eyes fixed on the tangle of greenery at the far side of the clearing.

  Was someone coming? The leaves and vines were so thick, the sun so faint as it tried to penetrate them, that it was almost impossible to see anything, but she thought—she thought she could see—

  She managed only one swift intake of breath before Slade’s hand clapped over her mouth.

  Below, branches and leaves shifted delicately, exposing bits and pieces of the face that hid within them. Brionny had a glimpse of dark eyes set in a broad face—and then it was gone.

  She swung toward Slade, her mouth trembling. He nodded grimly and put his finger to his lips.

  The time for negotiation was over.

  Quickly he grabbed the backpack, jumped noiselessly to the ground, and held up his arms. Unhesitatingly Brionny dropped into them. He wanted to hold her close, ease the fear from her eyes, but there wasn’t time.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ he whispered, wishing he really believed it. He kissed her gently before setting her on her feet. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart. I promise.’

  He took her hand, the clasp of his fingers firm and comforting, and drew her swiftly into the trees.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THEY HAD been traveling through the rainforest for hours before Slade held up his hand.

  ‘If you hear the Mali-Mali,’ Brionny panted, ‘I don’t want to know about it.’

  ‘Stuart— I think I know where we are!’

  She would have laughed, but she didn’t have the energy. ‘So do I. We’re smack in the middle of a big blank space on the map.’

  ‘I read something about a mining company that came in here a few years ago.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, our luck may be improving.’

  This time she did laugh. ‘From what, McClintoch? Desperate to just plain awful?’

  Slade pushed a tendril of damp hair back from her smudged face. ‘Can you hang in a little longer?’

  As if there were a choice, she thought. ‘Sure,’ she said, and followed after him, deeper into the jungle.

  Miles later, she came staggering around a bend and stumbled into him.

  ‘Slade,’ she moaned, ‘I can’t go another step. Don’t you think the Mali-Mali must have given up by now? If they were still after us, they’d have—’

  ‘Listen!’

  ‘Listen to what? I don’t…’ Brionny frowned. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Water,’ Slade said, grinning like a schoolboy. ‘Running water. If I’m right, it’s a branch of the river.’

  ‘Here?’ It was too much to hope for. ‘But—but it can’t be.’

  ‘That mining report mentioned a tributary that’s supposed to cut through the forest somewhere in this vicinity.’ Slade took her hand and they moved forward. ‘It’s not on the map so I wouldn’t have wasted time searching for it, but going this distance cross-country may have put us right in line for—’

  ‘Oh, Slade—look!’ Ahead, a brown stream arrowed between sloping banks of dense vegetation. And tucked snugly against the nearest bank was a small, tin-roofed structure. ‘A house!’ Laughter bubbled from Brionny’s throat. She turned and went spinning into Slade’s arms. ‘That means people, and a radio, and a boat—’

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t expect miracles, sweetheart. It’s probably just an old supply shed.’

  Her face fell a little, but she kept smiling. ‘It’s still a miracle. The river, and a roof over our heads for the night—we can stay the night, can’t we?’

  He hadn’t planned on it. Sunset was still hours away. If he worked fast, there was time to cut down some saplings, lash them together to form a raft—but how much further could he push Brionny? She’d already shown more courage and stamina than any woman he’d ever known.

  She was probably right. If the Mali-Mali hadn’t caught up to them by now, surely it meant they’d given up.

  He smiled. ‘OK. We’ll get a good night’s rest. First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll build ourselves a raft.’

  ‘A raft.’ She sighed happily. ‘And then, Italpa.’

  ‘Yeah. We’re almost home free,’ Slade said, with just a shade more conviction than he felt. He put his hand under her chin, dipped his head, and brushed his mouth over hers. ‘To success.’

  Their eyes met, and something deep inside his gut knotted. Slowly, he bent to her again, giving her time to make the choice—and she did. Brionny gave a little sigh, tilted her head back, and offered him her lips.

  How could she deny this moment? she thought as Slade’s head dropped to hers. They had teetered on the brink of incredible disaster and come through unscathed. Surely a gentle, brief kiss to celebrate their victory over the headhunters wasn’t dangerous…?

  It was like touching flame to dry kindling. Slade groaned as their lips met—or was it she who made that soft, impassioned sound? It didn’t matter. Her arms wound tightly around his neck as he gathered her to him, his mouth opening in demand over hers. His hands slid down her spine, cupped her buttocks, and lifted her into the hard heat of his body.

  Sensation swept through her in a dizzying rush. ‘Slade?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, sweetheart.’ He took one of her hands, kissed it, then brought it between them. He placed it against his chest and she felt the thudding beat of his heart. ‘Tell me what you want.’

  The question was simple, but the answer was complex. What did she want? Every time Slade touched her she was swept away on an emotional roller coaster, and she was never sure how she would feel at the end of the ride.

  Brionny’s head drooped. ‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘I’m too tired to think.’

  Slade nodded. He had hoped for a different answer, but she was right. This was no time to think of anything but survival. He took a breath and clasped her shoulders gently.

  ‘Well, I know what I want,’ he said, smiling. ‘A bath in that river, another gourmet dinner of dried fruit and nuts, and the chance to curl up on the floor in that elegant shack and sleep for the next twelve hours straight. How does that sound?’

  Brionny’s face lit. ‘It sounds like heaven.’

  Hand in hand, they made their way to the shack. Slade motioned her behind him as he slowly pushed open the door. It was dirty, hot and musty—but it was safe.

  ‘Welcome to the local branch of the Hotel Florinda,’ he said, with a grin.

  Brionny shuddered as she stepped inside. ‘The Florinda’s a four-star establishment compared to this.’

  ‘Come on, Stuart, where’s your spirit of adventure? We’ve got four walls, a roof, a cot bed—’ He dropped the pack to the floor and walked slowly across the room. ‘Some kind soul’s even left us a couple of tins of food.’

  With a weary groan, Brionny sank down on the edge of the cot. ‘Tinned ptomaine,’ she sighed.

  Slade chuckled. ‘What you need is a nap. Tell you what. I’ll scout around outside while you curl up here for a little while. How does that sound?’

  ‘No.’ She started to struggle to her feet. ‘No, if you’re not going to rest yet, I’ll—’

  Gently, he pressed her back down on the cot. ‘It doesn’t take two people to check the area,’ he said. ‘I only want to see if whoever built this place left behind anything else we might be able to use. OK?’

  Brionny fell back on the cot. ‘OK. You do that, and I’ll see what I can do to make this place a little more liveable.’

  He smiled. Her eyes were already closing. ‘Good idea,’ he whispered. He waited until her lashes lay against her cheeks, and then he went out the door.

  She came awake in a rush, heart pounding. ‘Slade?’

  Silence greeted her. The shack was still and hot. Brionny frowned, sat up, and thrust her hands into her hair. How long had she been sleeping? Five minutes? An hour? Her watch had stopped working during their flight through the jungle; she had no idea what time it was or how much had passed.

 

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