Christine Feehan - Wild Rain

To his shock, Rachael turned back, gingerly, carefully, and tunneled her fingers in his hair. "I don't break, Rio. I could have said no to you. For a moment there, I was someone else too. I knew you intimately, belonged with you and had for a long time. I was so comfortable, so complete. I think I would have been very happy to be that other person, but my leg changed my mind for me. I'm the one who's sorry."

"I frightened you."

She tugged at his hair and the gesture was strangely familiar. "Did I seem frightened to you? I thought I was very cooperative. My leg hurts when I move, otherwise, I would have been all over you."

He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. "Why, Rachael? Are you afraid to say no to me?" He couldn't quite get his breathing under control and his body was hard and painful and aching. More than anything he wanted to kiss her again, wanted her body to belong to him. Wanted her to belong to him. "I know you must feel vulnerable alone with me like this, especially injured, but I swear, I don't force myself on women."

"Rio, you're being silly. We're physically attracted to each other, I've been staring at your body for days now. How could I not be attracted? If you tried to force yourself on me and I wasn't in the least receptive, I would have hit you over the head with something." She grinned at him. "And you already know I'm perfectly capable of it. At the moment my leg is injured and you can't tell, but I have had a bit of self-defense training. You were very vulnerable there for a time in your… er… aroused state. Bad leg or no, I could have managed to injure you."

"When I'm with you…" Rio struggled to find the right words. "It's as if I've always been with you, as if I've always known you, as if I've always made love to you. I swear sometimes it's difficult for me to tell the difference between what's real and my imagination. It's crazy."

He leaned into her, close, so that the tips of her breasts pushed against his chest. Immediately the feeling was familiar, perfect-a coming home. He sighed. "I'm not used to being around people for any length of time, it makes me uncomfortable, but with you, I can't imagine you not being with me." His hands framed her face. "I want you so bad I can taste you in my mouth. I know exactly what you're going to feel like when I'm inside you." His fingertips slipped down her neck, over her shoulders to trace the swell of her breasts. "I know your shape, every curve, as if I have a map in my mind."

Rachael knew she was no thinking person when his hands were on her body, shaping her breasts, his thumbs sliding over her taut nipples sending bolts of lightning through her bloodstream. She wasn't an ordinary woman with a chance at love. She could have a brief affair, but she would have to move on, leave him behind. Every moment she was with him endangered him.

Her lashes hid the expression in her eyes from him, careful not to let him see the heat and fire his touch awakened in her. "I feel different. I have since I first came to the rain forest. I feel fully alive, as if something inside of me is trying to break free." And she felt highly sexual. Ever since she had come to this house, this place, was near this man, in spite of the fever or maybe because of the fever, she was in a continual state of arousal. She burned for him, thought of him night and day, dreamed of him.

"Rachael, you know the birthmark low on your hip? I knew it was there before I ever saw it. I know exactly how you like to be touched." He sat up, pushed his hand through his hair in agitation, leaving it tousled and wild, as untamed as he. "How can I know those things?"

She knew his likes and dislikes intimately too. Sometimes her fingers itched to stroke his chest, to run her fingertips down his flat belly. Teasing and caressing, her tongue swirling in the wake of her fingers until he cried out for mercy. She knew the exact note that would be in his voice, the husky ache in his tone. Just thinking of the need and hunger in his voice sent ripples of fire racing through her body.

Rio sighed. "Let me take a look at your leg. Between the cat jumping on it and me hurting you, it probably needs a repair or two." He looked at her, dark curly hair spilling around her face, lips slightly parted, almost in invitation. Her long lashes lifted and he was staring into her eyes, seeing her need. Seeing the same smoldering heat in her that burned so hotly in him. He swore under his breath and reached beneath the cover for her ankle, guiding her leg into the open.

Rachael felt his fingers on her skin. There was a proprietary feeling to his grip. The pad of his thumb swept back and forth over her ankle in a small caress, each stroke sending flames dancing up her leg to the junction of her thighs. His hand slipped lower, over her foot, began a slow, heart-stopping massage.

"It looks far better this morning, Rachael. No red streaks at all. It's still very swollen and the two puncture sites are draining again. I'm going to take the dressing off and leave them open to drain."

She made a face. "How lovely. The sheet is going to be a mess."

"I have a couple of towels I can put under it." His fingers tightened around her foot. "Rachael, I think we're out of the woods and we've saved the leg, but it's going to scar. I tried to repair the damage, but…" He trailed off, the pressure of his grip hard enough to reveal his distress at his inadequacy without actual words.

Rachael shrugged. "I wasn't worried about scars, Rio. Thank you for what you did. It doesn't matter to me."

"Not right now, but when you're back in your world, dancing in a slinky dress, it may make a difference." He forced himself to say it, to think it. At once the beast rose up, fighting for control, fur threatening to burst through his skin. Wickedly sharp teeth pushing at his jaw to make room. Even his fingers curved, the stiletto-sharp claws threatening to burst out the ends.

"I can't ever go back, Rio," Rachael said firmly. "I don't want to go back. There's nothing but death there for me. I was never happy in that world. I'd like to try here, where I feel alive, where I feel close to my mother again. It was her stories that made me come to this place. When she spoke of the rain forest, she made me feel as if I were in it, sensing its sounds and smells and beauty. I felt as if I'd walked in it, long before I ever came here."

"This isn't a lark for some rich woman's fantasy," he said, abruptly standing. With the same casual immodesty he pulled on a pair of jeans. "There aren't stores here, Rachael. There are cobras and wild animals that will hunt and eat you."

"Someone managed to put a cobra in my locked room before we traveled on the river," she said. It was hard not to stare at him, not to see the play of his muscles beneath his skin. She could see the scars covering his body. Many of them were obviously from large cats. But there were scars from knives and bullets and other weapons she couldn't hope to identify.

His head snapped around, his hands stilled on the buttons of his jeans. "Are you certain the thing didn't get into your room on its own, Rachael?"

She shook her head. "No, the room was locked up tight. I made sure of it. I really prepared for this trip, Rio. I knew about the snakes and other unpleasant and poisonous crawly things. I took precautions."

Rio reached for her. "Let me help you to the bathroom."

"I think I can make it on my own," Rachael said.

He paid no attention to her protest, simply reached down and scooped her into his arms, striding into the tiny closet-sized room used for privacy. It was a primitive method, but at least Rachael had privacy. He left her alone while he went about heating water for coffee.

Rachael leaned against the wall, holding on to keep from falling on her face. She was surprised how weak she was. The infection left her shaky. She wasn't certain she could hop her way across the floor back to the bed, let alone make it outside to the verandah as she had planned. She needed a respite from Rio's untamed masculine allure. She had no way to combat his magnetic sorcery when she was so close to him. She couldn't stop staring at him, the fluid way he walked, the way his roped muscles rippled so obviously, the temptation of his mouth, the brilliance of his vivid gaze, so often hot with hunger and need when it rested on her.