Dangerous Pursuit (The Protectors) (17 page)

“What happened?” he asked gently.

“My father drowned at the beach when I was six. Dad was trying to save someone else, a stranger, and he got caught in the undertow.”

Brock’s arms went about her and their wet bodies meshed. “Don’t you see that’s the best reason in the world to learn to swim, Samantha?”

She nodded against his chest. “I’ve tried. I freeze up in the water. I keep seeing my father going under.”

“You can do a pretty mean dog paddle.”

“That was my survival instinct at work. I avoid water if possible.”

“Come on. It’s hard to avoid water in the jungle, especially during the rainy season.” Brock cradled her against him and led her farther into the river. “I want you to float on your back. I’ll hold you up. But the main thing I want you to do is relax completely.”

“Relax?”

“Trust me, Samantha. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Trust me, Samantha
. Those words echoed through her mind as she lay stiffly in the water with Brock’s arms supporting her. Could she trust him? Her heart said yes; her mind wasn’t sure.

“Relax or it won’t work.”

Samantha stared up at Brock, who was smiling tenderly down at her. She willed her body to relax, and by concentrating on Brock and his concern, muscle-by-muscle she did.

“Close your eyes.”

Samantha did as Brock commanded.

“Think of nothing but nice things. Think of home. Think of a thick, juicy steak and a baked potato piled with butter and sour cream.”

Samantha thought of Brock, with his arms about her, kissing her until she forgot about home, about everything in her life but him. In her daydreaming she felt as if she were floating on a cloud without a care in the world.

She opened her eyes, expecting to find Brock hovering over her, but he was standing a few feet away and she was floating on her back alone. Immediately her body tensed and she started to sink. She stood quickly before taking in a mouth full of river water.

“For two minutes you were on your own. You can do it.”

“For a person who for thirty-six hours didn’t seem likely to make it, you certainly are fit now.”

“My medicine helps a lot. And I can’t afford to let a little thing like malaria get me down for long. Remember, we have people after us.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” She waded past him and out of the water to dry in the late afternoon sun.

Lying down on the beach next to her, Brock said, “I think we only have a few days until we reach a village where we can pick up a steamer heading for Manaus.”

Trying to ignore the fact that they were both dressed in very little, Samantha said, “Good. I know Mark is alive from what Carlos and Paul said that night at the mission. When we find my brother, he can tell us what’s in the book and you can have your share of whatever it is.”

“It won’t be that simple. First we have to find your brother. I’m not sure he wants to be found.”

“Nonsense. I’m his sister. Why would he hide from me?” she asked, not having succeeded in ignoring their attire. It was impossible with Brock so close that she could touch him with no effort at all.

“You might be watched in Manaus for the very reason you could lead the people after us to your brother.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure we’re not watched. We don’t have to stay at the Grand Hotel.”

“We?”

Samantha turned to look at Brock. “I assumed you wanted to be in this to the end for your share.”

“Don’t ever assume anything, Sam.” A bitter edge entered his voice. A hard glint flashed in his eyes.

For a moment she was hurt by his words. She had assumed a lot where Brock was concerned. He was right. She couldn’t assume anything. “I’ll think of some way to get in touch with Mark without anyone finding out. He’s the key.”

“
We’ll
think of a way. In this case you were right to assume that I’ll be in it until the end. After all, I’ve invested a lot of time not to be paid.”

“Right.” Samantha jumped to her feet and gathered up her clothes to dress. She was trying desperately to keep the pain at bay, but it was growing rapidly. Why was it so important that Brock just want to help her for herself? Because she was falling in love with him in spite of all her logical reasons not to, and he was everything she didn’t want in a man. The realization struck her like a stunning blow, and she nearly dropped her pile of clothes.

Brock was on his feet and in front of her, blocking her escape. “You said so yourself. It’s better if it’s strictly business between us. Are you having second thoughts now?”

She kept her expression neutral as she stared at him. “No.” She pushed past him, dressing as she made her way toward their camp.

She was kidding herself. Things had gone beyond business, and she didn’t see any way out of this mess without being hurt terribly.

Back at camp she waited for Brock to appear behind her, but when he didn’t come, she feared he had fainted or something from his earlier exertion in the water. She quickly retraced her steps to the river. He stood at the edge of the water, dressed, with his hands stuffed into his back pockets. He was staring down at the river flowing past him.

Samantha had started to leave when Brock said, “This is the time of day I like best.”

She made her way to his side, acknowledging the beauty of the sunset. The river was tinted a purplish red, reflecting the setting sun in its swiftly moving waters. A towering tree, standing proudly alone above the rest, was dark against a deep purple sky laced with streaks of golden and orange lights. The tree reminded Samantha of Brock, proud, erect, a loner, needing no one.

He slipped his arm about her shoulders. “We both know we’ve gone beyond being just business partners.”

She nodded, fighting tears and the lump in her throat.

“When two people are thrown together, as you and I have been, everything is heightened. When you return to New Orleans and your normal life, though, you’ll eventually forget the adventure we had. It will become like one of those books you’ve read. Before long you won’t even remember characters’ names or locales.”

In one respect he was right about their adventure becoming like a book she’d read. She would treasure it, savoring the important parts over and over on lonely nights. The main character would never fade from her thoughts, she strongly suspected, because he had left a mark on her that was rare for a book but occasionally possible. Who could forget characters like Rhett Butler or Romeo?

“Who is Emma? Your sister?” The question had been in the back of Samantha’s mind ever since he had said the name in his feverish state.

His arm on her shoulders tensed. He inhaled sharply. “Where did you hear that name?”

“From you. While you had your fever.”

For long moments he didn’t say anything but continued to stare at the river. The sky darkened, the shadows of night enclosing them. “Emma is my ex-wife.”

She wanted him to continue. She wanted him to tell her he didn’t care about Emma anymore. She waited.

A shriek sounded in the night. Samantha tensed.

“It’s only a macaw. But we should get back to camp where it’s safer with the fire.”

Brock walked ahead of Samantha, but they were linked together by their clasped hands. Samantha had hoped he would tell her more about himself, but in camp he immediately started building up the fire and preparing something to eat, as though he were looking for something to keep himself busy.

Seated by the fire while they ate, Samantha avoided looking at him. He was trying to keep their relationship on a less personal level, which in the long run was better for both of them, and she kept trying to get closer, to probe deeper into the man Brock Slader was. But even knowing in the end that the closer she was to Brock the more hurt she would endure when she left Brazil didn’t make any difference. She wanted to know him on all levels.

Is Emma important to you? Are you still in love with your ex-wife?
“How long have you been divorced?” was the question that Samantha finally asked.

“Seven years.” Brock rose, his look shuttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some rest if we’re going to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, of course,” she murmured, watching him walk to his hammock. "Now you want your rest."

As before, she felt shut out of his life, and, Lord help her, she was in love with him. If he knew, she suspected he wouldn’t even stay around to find out what the treasure was.

* * *

“This is a village? There are only four houses in it!” Samantha wasn’t even sure she should call them houses—they were more like huts.

“This is a village because it’s the only one for a fifty-mile radius. The important thing is that a steamer does stop here.”

They entered the village cautiously at high noon. Brock had insisted they wait until everyone was taking a nap before showing themselves. He wanted to scout it out before approaching a villager.

“You stay here.” He rubbed his half-grown beard, which he had let go for the last several days. “I look like someone who belongs in the jungle. You don’t. I want to find out when the steamer will arrive.”

Samantha hid in a grove of banana trees behind one of the houses. She expected Brock to be gone for a while, but he was back in a few minutes.

He pushed her further behind a tree, whispering, “Stay down. I think one of Carlos’s men is in the village.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Terrific
. Had she and Brock spent over a week trekking through the jungle only to have things end in a collection of four huts in the middle of nowhere?

The searing sun beat down on her and the air was still. Swatting at an insect, an action she had done a lot in the past week, Samantha waited quietly while Brock decided on a course of action.

“We have to get to the river without being seen by him,” he finally whispered, his body hugging close to Samantha’s.

“Where is the guy?”

“Sitting in front of the house closest to the river. He has a hat pulled low over his head as if he’s asleep, but I saw him lift his head and peer out, scanning the village.”

“What if the whole village is helping him?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“How far is the next village?”

“Too far. And there could be someone waiting there too. If I were Carlos, that is how I would do it.”

Alarmed by the idea that everywhere they went one of Carlos’s men could be waiting, Samantha asked, “How big is Carlos’s operation?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m worried. That man might be perfectly innocent. There’s no sure way to tell, so we can’t take any chances. All I know is he doesn’t belong in this village."

“What if we flag the riverboat down below the village and get on then? We’d be safe if no one who works for Carlos is riding the boat.”

Brock stared at the four houses as if he could see into the huts to what was going on inside. “You may have a point. We have to take a chance on the steamer or it will be weeks before we can reach Manaus. And we’re ill equipped to travel in the jungle for that length of time. Let’s hope Carlos can’t cover every base or that I’m being paranoid and no one is waiting for us.”

“Do you know a place on the river where someone on the steamer might see us and pick us up?”

His eyes sparkled as they slowly took in her face. “Yes, I do. It’s only a few hours from here.” He gently touched her cheek with his forefinger. “We’ll have to leave now and walk in the hottest part of the day. I don’t know when the steamer will be arriving here. We could wait days, or we could miss it while we’re walking.”

“And we could get caught.” She didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary in the jungle for the obvious reason that it wasn’t a easy place on a novice like herself. But it also forced an intimacy between herself and Brock that made her dream, emotionally dangerous dreams that were going to leave her very hurt in the end.

“That’s definitely a possibility.” His fingertip whispered over her face.

His touch emphasized the bond that had formed between them through this ordeal. “We have to do it. We have no other choice.” Her skin tingled where Brock’s finger skimmed over her, and she forgot all about the intense heat, the insects, and the man in the village.

“You’re quite a lady, Samantha Prince.”

The world seemed to stop for a few moments as Samantha gazed into Brock’s eyes that gently caressed her from their smoky depths. Her attention became absorbed in every minute detail of his features. The fullness of his lips, the roughness of his beard, the warmth of his silver-gray eyes, were all she cared about.

She wanted to tell him he was quite a man, but the moment passed and the sensual gleam in his gaze faded.

His usual shuttered look descended as he straightened away from her. “We have no time to waste.”

They followed the river for three hours before Brock stopped and pointed toward the water. “The riverboat will have to come in close to shore here. Hopefully someone on board will see us signaling.”

“How will we get to the boat?”

“Swim.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Samantha shielded her eyes with her hand and scanned the river. She’d only had one swimming lesson and certainly wasn’t ready for the big test yet. “Maybe we should have taken our chances at the village.”

“You’ll do fine, Sam.”

“Because I have no other choice,” she finished with mocked laughter. She was doing a lot of things she hadn’t thought herself capable of two weeks before because there was no other choice, but it helped to know that Brock had faith in her.

They positioned themselves on the bank to begin their watch. Samantha drew her knees up to her chest and clasped her arms around her legs. The breeze stirred wisps of her hair and cooled her sweat-covered skin as the sun descended toward the horizon. In between short, intense rainstorms the insects continued to love the taste of her skin and were holding a party on her.

“Do you miss your family living here?” She slapped a small insect that had come in for a landing.

“I keep in touch. I haven’t been in the Amazon that long.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at his ankles, then leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows.