Wild Rain (12 page)
“You’re doing fine,” he said. “Can you go on?”
“If you can, I can,” she answered. He looked at her then with his vivid green eyes, something she couldn’t quite name swirling in the darker depths. His gaze drifted over her face, almost as if he were drawing strength from just looking at her. He turned his attention back to the cat.
Rachael let out her breath slowly, fighting down the bile rising in her throat from the throbbing pain in her leg. She would do anything to see that look on his face. A sharing. A connection. She listened to the sound of his voice as he talked softly to the cat, reassuring it as he stitched the deep wound. She found herself stroking the fur with her free hand as the animal trembled, but stayed still for Rio’s ministrations.
Rachael waited until Rio was working on the second puncture wound. “How did this happen?”
“There was a big, spotted leopard, a male, in the forest. He attacked Fritz. Fortunately he dropped him without crushing the windpipe.”
She looked at the deep angry scratches on Rio’s body. “You went up against a leopard trying to kill your pet?”
Swift impatience crossed his face. “I told you, Fritz and Franz are not pets. They’re my friends, I didn’t save Fritz, he was trying to protect me and he put himself in harm’s way.”
Rachael bent over the animal in her lap, examining the chunk missing from the ear. “So this one is Fritz?”
He nodded as he peered closely at his work. “This puncture wound is not as deep as the other one. I’m going to give him something for the infection. The leopard did this deliberately.”
“Why?” She didn’t look at him when she asked. Rio had bitten the words out between his strong teeth, almost as if he said them without thought, angry at the leopard for hurting the smaller cat. She sensed that Rio was on the verge of telling her something very important.
Rio glanced at her. “I think he was hunting for one of us. I just am not certain which. At first I thought it was me, but now I’m not so sure.”
She heard the thud of her heart and counted the beats. It was a trick she often used when she was in a dangerous situation and wanted to appear calm or when she needed more information and didn’t want to react too fast. Something inside her went very still when he turned his direct, piercing gaze on her. There was something there she couldn’t quite read. A swirling dangerous mixture of beast and man. Rachael knew cats’ eyes contained a layer of reflective tissue behind each retina which allowed them to concentrate all possible light during the darkest nights, or in the darkest forest. Called the tapetum lucidum, the membrane acted like a mirror, allowing the light to bounce back through the retina a second time for maximum ability to see. The membrane also reflected light back in iridescent colors of yellow-green and red, both of which Rachael had observed in Rio and in the clouded leopards.
“Why would a leopard be hunting one or the other of us, Rio?” she prompted. It didn’t make sense that the large cat would care which of them he killed and ate.
There was a long silence broken only by the sounds of the moaning wind, the steady fall of rain, Franz pacing back and forth in agitation, Rachael was certain Rio could hear the pounding of her heart.
“I don’t think he was a leopard as you know a leopard. I think he was a different species altogether.” Rio’s voice blended into the night, held secrets and shadows she didn’t want to examine.
Rachael didn’t voice the protest welling up in her. She was certain Rio wasn’t being melodramatic. She didn’t think he was capable of drama for drama’s sake. “I’m sorry, I’m not certain exactly what you’re saying? A new species of leopard here in the rain forest that hasn’t been discovered? Or a genetically engineered species?”
“A species that’s been around for thousands of years.”
She rubbed the clouded leopard’s ears. “How are they different?”
He looked at her then, turning the full focus of his strange eyes on her. “They are not animal, yet not human. They’re both, yet neither.”
Rachael went very still, pulled her gaze from the power of his, her mind racing with possibilities. “A long time ago, when I was a little girl, my mother told me a story about a species of leopards. Well, not leopards, they were a species able to shift into the form of a leopard, or large cat. They had some of the attributes of the leopard, but also attributes of humans and of their own species, sort of a three-way mixture. I’ve never heard anyone else ever mention them until now. Is that what you mean?”
Few things shocked Rio anymore, but his hands stopped in midair and he stared at her. “How would your mother have heard of the leopard people? Few people, outside the species, know of their existence.”
“Do you realize what you’re saying, Rio? That there is such a species? I thought it was simply a story my mother liked to tell me at night when we were alone together. She always told me tales of the leopard people when I went to bed.” She frowned, trying to remember the old stories from her childhood. “She didn’t call them leopard people, there was another name.”
Rio stiffened, his brilliant gaze slashing at her face. “What did she call them?”
The name eluded her as hard as she tried to remember. “I was a child, Rio. I was only a young girl when she died and we went to live with...” She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Are you saying there’s a possibility that the species exists? And if it does, why would one of them want to harm you? Or me for that matter?”
“I’m on a hit list, Rachael. I’ve stirred up the bandits a few times, taking back what doesn’t belong to them and costing them a lot of money. They don’t like it and they want me dead.” He shrugged his shoulders and patted the cat, straightening tiredly. “Hold him a couple more minutes while I fix a bed for him.”
“And I’ve made it worse for you by coming here, haven’t I?”
“A hit list is a hit list, Rachael. I don’t think anything makes it worse, I’m already on it. If they track you to me, we’ll move. They aren’t going to best me here in the forest. They prefer the river, not the interior. And I have a few people who will help out if needed. I know all the local tribesmen and they know me. I’ll hear if they enter the forest.” He doused the light, plunging the room back into darkness.
“But not if one of these leopard people is working with them,” she guessed, blinking rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting. The moon was trying valiantly to shed light in spite of the clouds and the heavy canopy of foliage, but it was a mere sliver and far away. “And if the species does exist, why haven’t they been discovered yet? They’d have to be highly intelligent.”
“And cool under fire—cunning, careful. Burn their dead in the hottest fires possible. Find remains of any who died by accident. Ban together to retrieve a body if one is taken by a hunter. The society would have to be a superior one, dependent on one another and highly skilled and secretive.”
“Like you.” She couldn’t get the picture of his face changing, rushing at her with the muzzle and teeth of a fully grown male leopard out of her head.
He returned to the bed, towering over her, his vivid green eyes moving over her face. “Like me,” he agreed. Rio bent and scooped up the fifty-pound clouded leopard, cradling it close to his chest.
Rachael’s fingers curled in the bedcover. Was it possible? Was it her fevered imagination or was Rio able to shift into the form of a leopard? She looked at him crouched down beside the cat, streaks of blood on his back and sides, down the columns of his thighs, and a tear up near his neck. She didn’t care what he was. It didn’t matter to her, not when he was petting the injured cat and murmuring soft nonsense to it.
Rachael swallowed the tight knot of fear blocking her throat. “You’re bleeding, Rio. Come here to me. How badly are you hurt?”
Rio stood up and turned around to look at her. There was genuine concern in her voice, in the dark depths of her eyes. Her compassion touched him somewhere deep inside, somewhere he wanted to forget existed. She shook his control, and that was more dangerous than she could possibly understand. Rio shrugged his shoulders. “It’s no big deal, a few scratches.”
Rachael studied him as he padded across the floor on bare feet. There was a slight stiffness to his normal graceful, sinuous walk. The scratches looked deep and ugly and she thought there was more than one puncture wound. “You always take care of everything and everybody before you take care of yourself. You fought that leopard, didn’t you? You didn’t have a gun with you. I doubt you had a knife. What did you do? Fight it with your bare hands?”
Rio dragged out the medical kit and began dousing the angry looking wounds with burning liquid. Rachael sighed softly, feeling helpless. He looked tired and out of sorts and she knew the gashes had to hurt. He didn’t respond to her comments, but she was certain she was right. He had to have been involved in a vicious fight with a cat of some kind without a weapon. And it couldn’t have been a small cat. She bit down on her lip to keep her mouth closed, determined not to aggravate him with questions.
He bent to duck his head over the tub he used as a sink and poured water over his hair. He was breathtaking, there in the dark with just the sliver of moonlight falling across him. His hair gleamed liked silken webs. Shadows from the heavy foliage stirred by the wind threw the broad outline of his back and buttocks into sharp relief and then just as quickly covered him from her sight as he washed himself. As he straightened and half turned toward her, his eyes caught the reflection of light from the moon and glowed an eerie red. The eyes of a predator. The eyes of a leopard.
Rachael held her breath and made every effort to keep the wild pounding of her heart under control. It wasn’t just his strange eyes that could frighten her; he always carried a dangerous, untamed look about him. She was certain she was right about his eyes being different, more like a cat’s. He took a step toward the bed and she could see him more clearly, see the weariness and pain etched into his face. Immediately fear was swept aside in her concern for him.
“Rio, come to bed.”
He studied her expression. Soft. Inviting. Temptation. Her mouth was sinful. He had more than his share of fantasies about her mouth. Her lush body, so soft and warm and perfect for his, was an invitation he couldn’t ignore much longer. The longer she stayed in his home, the more she belonged there. “Damn it, Rachael, I’m not a saint.” His voice was harsh, deliberately challenging. He was so edgy and moody he wanted a fight with her. He wanted to go back into the jungle and sulk far away from her. If his obsession with her continued to grow, he didn’t know what he was going to do.
Rachael did the unexpected like she always did. She burst out laughing, the sound carefree, not in the least bit frightened. “You have no worries, Rio, I am not about to mistake you for one.”
“Well why the hell are you looking at me like that then? Don’t you have any idea how vulnerable you are right now?”
“I think you’re the one who’s vulnerable, Rio, not me. Come to bed and stop acting so macho. You can put on your he-man face in the morning and I’ll do my best to act afraid if that’s what you need, but right now, you need sleep. Not sex, sleep.” .
“
You
think I need sleep,” he groused, but obediently slid into the bed beside her. She was warm and soft and everything he knew she’d be. Rio wrapped his arms around her, fit his body around hers, snuggling his heavy erection tightly against the cradle of her hips, his head against the soft swell of her breast.
“I know you need sleep. Just lay it down for a while. If you’re worried about someone sneaking up on you, I’ll watch over you.” She could feel the silk of his hair, damp from washing, teasing her nipple. Rachael wrapped her arms around his head, cradled him to her, her fingers woven in the thick mass of hair.
“I should check your leg after that idiot cat jumped on it.”
His breath was warm against her breast. She felt desire pierce her like a sword. “Go to sleep, Rio, we can check it in the morning.” For the rest of the night, she would pretend he belonged to her. Her own gentle warrior, fresh from battle, a mixture of danger and tenderness she found impossible to resist.
RIO woke before dawn. It was his favorite time of day. He loved to bury his face against Rachael’s warm breasts and just listen to the soft cries of the early morning birds and the continual symphony of the forest while he held her to him. He felt more alive, more complete in those moments just before dawn, before the household stirred to life and the day’s demands were on him. Rachael breathed so softly, in and out, warm and welcoming, her flesh a lush invitation to paradise. He knew every line, every hollow. Her body was etched deeply into his memory. He knew her form better than she knew it, and he knew every way to please her.
Rio smiled and buried his face in the valley between her breasts just to inhale her scent. She always seemed to smell of flowers. He was certain it was the soaps and shampoo she made from the petals and herbs in the forest. His tongue swirled over her nipple, a lazy, leisurely movement. Life was perfect at dawn. He breathed her in. His Rachael. His world. There in their secret world with the light filtering in through the high canopy, Rio found strength and passion and everything he would ever need to exist and live.
He nuzzled her breast, swirled his tongue over her tempting nipple a second time and drew soft flesh into his mouth, suckling gently. Rachael stirred, shifted to bring her body more aligned with his, to arch her back a little more to offer her breasts while her arms crept around his head to cradle him close. He loved her reaction, that first drowsy offering of her body to him. He knew when he plunged his finger deep inside her to test her readiness, she would already be hot and wet and welcoming.
Making love to Rachael was always an adventure. They would be so tender together it would bring tears to his eyes, or they would be rough and wild and totally uninhibited. Rachael would rake his back, dig her nails into his flesh or ride him with wild abandon. Sometimes he spent an hour just loving on her, feasting on her. Her body was so familiar to him, yet he was full and hard and bursting to be inside her, so eager his body was painful. Like the first time. Like each and every time he touched her.