Christine Feehan - Wild Rain

Drake cleared his throat. "Why in the world would someone put up a million dollars to get you back?"

Rachael continued to look at Rio. She saw only Rio. His weathered face, the lines etched there from too many missions, too many decisions he didn't want to make. Eyes that held so much focused intensity. Eyes that could be as cold as ice or burning with such heat she caught fire. Eyes that were a vivid green instead of the yellow-green she'd seen so often.

"Well, that is the question, isn't it?" Rachael murmured. "What have I done? What did I steal? Because no one would put up that kind of money without a just cause."

"You forgot the most important question. What do you know?" Rio amended.

Rachael took a deep breath, turned away from his all-seeing stare. "I thought you all had to go rescue the others."

"It isn't that easy. Tomas moves his camp and moves his prisoners all the time. They have tunnels in the fields they drop down into. The cane fields can cover a maze of tunnels that go for miles," Rio explained.

"Rat holes," Drake said. "They have so many bolt-holes it takes time to find them and pinpoint their location."

"And just about the time we have a fix on them, the prisoners are moved again," Rio added. "We have to move carefully, especially with Tomas. Drake and Tama were able to get Kim out because no one expected a rescue so soon. This series of storms are some of the worst we've experienced in years. The last thing anyone would think was that Kim's family would know something happened and go after him using one of our people to aid him."

Rachael was too exhausted to do anything but lie back on the pillows and think. She hated to admit it, but the strangely colored concoction Kim and Tama had smeared on her leg had definitely taken away much of the pain. She glanced down at her leg and nearly laughed. Her calf and ankle were still swollen nearly double the normal size and now appeared as if she were wearing a brownish-green sock. The two puncture wounds continually drained, which added to the entire effect. "Lovely," she murmured.

"I think so," Drake said, grinning at her with boyish charm.

Rio waited for the sudden surge of black jealousy that seemed to be a curse hanging over his species, but surprisingly it didn't come. He could feel the brush of Rachael's fingers along his back, the way she tugged absently on the waistband of his pants. It was such a small thing, but it was familiar and comforting. He felt confident and secure in his relationship. Rio smiled and shook his head. He had to keep reminding himself he didn't have a relationship with her. He reached behind him to capture her hand. "I swear, Rachael, I have flashbacks around you."

They stared at one another, completely in tune at that moment. Their smiles were slow and genuine, smiles of complete understanding, spreading warmth through them both.

Drake cleared his throat to draw Rio's attention. "And you always thought it was a myth. Rachael, my dear, I don't think you have to worry about anyone turning you in for money or for anything else. You've come home where you belong."

"Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" Rachael asked. But she could see it on Rio's face. He knew exactly what Drake was talking about. And she saw something else. Just for the briefest of moments she saw hope and happiness in Rio's eyes. It flickered there and was quickly covered up. "You do know."

"Drake has a thing about old legends. He believes in fairy tales. I don't," Rio answered gruffly.

Drake nudged him. "But you're beginning to. What about Maggie and Brandt? Are they a myth? You just don't want to admit when you're wrong." He turned his attention to Rachael. "Rio's stubborn. No one's ever been able to do a thing with him. Good luck is all I'm going to say."

Rio groaned. "Don't believe him, Rachael. He always has more to say. If we were lucky he'd shut up now, but it isn't going to happen."

Kim and Tama nodded in agreement, laughing aloud as they did so.

Rachael was very aware of Rio's thumb sliding intimately back and forth over her wrist. "Is that true, Drake?"

"Lies, all lies," he denied, clutching his heart. "And they call themselves my friends. I risk my life for them and this is how they repay me."

"Poor thing," she commiserated, trying not to laugh. Drake and Rio were such powerful, dominant-looking males, yet at that moment they looked like two boys laughing over a silly joke together. Rachael had all kinds of questions, but she put them aside until she could be alone with Rio.

"Rachael's tired," Rio said. "We should let her rest while we decide what we're going to do about finding this lost group of do-gooders." He saw her swift frown and hastily retracted. "Kidnap victims."

Drake laughed again. "I always wondered what could make you politically correct. It isn't a what, it's a who."

Rachael watched the four men go out onto the verandah, leaving her with Fritz. They closed the door, but she could hear the low sound of their voices. Somehow it was reassuring to hear them as she drifted between waking and sleeping. Rain was intermittent. There would be the murmur of the wind in the trees, the flutter of leaves and the continual sound of insects and birds, of troupes of monkeys chattering back and forth as they moved through branches. The sounds crept into her dreams, familiar and soothing. The humidity was never oppressive, but rather heightened her senses, making her aware of the curves of her body, of her nerve endings, of her sexuality. She felt drops of sweat running down the valley between her breasts.

Rachael closed her eyes and Rio was there, bending his dark head toward her body, his tongue swirling over the swell of her breast, sending a shiver down her spine. Her body tightened in anticipation. He looked at her and her breath caught in her throat. There was so much love there. So much devotion. She felt tears welling up. She knew him so well, every expression, every line. When he was tired or happy or angry. She wrapped her arms around him, held him to her while they listened to the wind and rain beating softly at the window.

Rio tapped at the window, wishing he'd thought to pull the blanket aside so he could see Rachael. He was certain she'll fall asleep fast. Her leg was healing, but very slowly. He counted them lucky that she hadn't lost it. "Tama, thank you for mixing up the herbs to heal Rachael's leg. I was worried I might not be able to save it. She was pretty sick for a while."

"You know most of the healing plants," Tama replied. "This is a mixture my father uses when we must heal quickly without much pain while traveling through the forest and rivers. The river can be dangerous to open wounds. This puts a sealant over it to prevent parasites or bacteria from getting under the skin."

"Don't worry, Rio, I made certain I left the puncture wounds open to drain," Kim added. "Are you going to tell us how that happened?"

"Not to mention, you look a little worse for wear yourself," Drake pointed out.

Rio put his hand on the window, spread his fingers as if he could touch her. He felt her calling to him. There was no sound, but he knew she was there in his mind, maybe in his skin, reaching for him, separated only by the thin walls. "I took a couple of minor hits, nothing big, getting, our last victim out. And I had the little run-in with the leopard. If you come across anyone with damage from a big cat, let me know. He's got to go for treatment somewhere."

"You think he was after you or after the woman?"

"I thought he was sent after me at first. He was definitely tracking, but now I think maybe it was Rachael all along."

"The reward?"

Rio's fingertips drummed on the window. "I don't think he meant to take her out of here. I think he was going to kill her."

Drake winced visibly. "One of ours? We don't kill women, Rio, especially one of our women and she is. You know she is."