Christine Feehan - Wild Rain

Rio glanced up and blinked, as if he'd just noticed her. In truth he'd been aware of her every move. He was nearly hypnotized by the sight of her fingers stroking the cat's fur. "I stash the packs along my escape routes in case I'm out of ammo, weapons or need medical supplies. It can be very useful."

"And the clothes?"

"Comes in handy if I need a change," he answered glibly.

"I see. Are you going to tell me why your friend Drake acted so strangely around the cats and why it didn't bother you? I expected, just for a moment there, for him to suddenly erupt into violence. I think you expected it too."

"Drake has lived in the forest for most of his entire life. We're very primitive here. We react to things in nature; It sounds a little strange, but if you're here a long time, you'll understand." His hands stilled on the knife he was sharpening. "I want you to stay a long time, Rachael."

His gaze was direct as always. Rachael couldn't have looked away if her life depended on it. His voice was so low she almost didn't hear him. For a moment she couldn't breathe, her chest so tight from a mixture of hope and fear. She almost blurted out her first thought. She wanted to stay-needed to stay. Had never wanted a man the way she wanted him. But death was poised over her head and it didn't care who happened to be in the same vicinity.

"With me, Rachael. I want you to stay here with me."

"You know I can't, Rio. You know why." Her fingers curled so tightly in the clouded leopard's fur, Fritz lifted his head and looked at her with his lip curled.

"Then at least want to stay with me. If you could, would you want to be with me?" She belonged with him. He knew it with every breath he took. Knew it with every fiber of his being. How could she not know? Not feel it? It was so clear to him.

Rachael pulled her hand away from the cat and dragged the cover to her chin. A small protection, but it made her feel in control. Rio stood up in his lazy, languorous way, the one that always reminded her of a feline. Without hesitation he lay down beside her, fitting his body around hers, careful to keep from touching her leg.

The blanket was between them, but Rachael felt his body right through the thin weave. When she took a breath, she took him into her lungs. "You don't know me any more than I know you. We can't just pretend we don't have pasts, Rio, as much as we'd like. I'm not the woman you seem to remember in your dreams, and you can't be the man I remember. Things like that aren't real."

His fingers tangled in her hair. "How do you know they aren't real? How do you know we weren't together in a past life? Your hair felt just like this, but it was long, to your waist. When you braided it, the braid was nearly as thick as my forearm. I know the sound of your laughter, Rachael, but more importantly, I know what makes you laugh. I know what makes you sad. I know that you have an aversion to monkeys. How would I know that?" He wrapped her curls around his fingers and buried his face against the silken mass.

"I must have said something, maybe when I had such a high fever. I was probably rambling like crazy."

"Just the opposite. You were so closemouthed most of the time, it scared me. Sometimes you were barely breathing."

She laughed softly. "I was afraid you were giving me truth serum."

"So I could conduct my interrogation." He lifted his head, his green eyes blazing at her. "Are you afraid of me, Rachael? Are you afraid I'll betray you for the money?"

She studied his face feature by feature and found she was shaking her head before she could stop herself. "No, I'm not afraid of that."

"Then talk to me. Tell me who you are."

She lifted her hand to his face, traced the tiny lines around his mouth. "You tell me who you are, Rio. Let me know you before you ask questions of me. I see suffering in your face. You've seen betrayal, you know what it is. And you came here for a reason. Tell me what it is. Why do you have to live in this place?"

"I choose to live here, Rachael, I don't have to live here. There is a difference."

"You've been here for some time. Do Kim and Tama live far away from other people? Does Drake?"

"No, Kim and Tama live in the village. Most of the time if their people move, the entire village moves. They still have longhouses when they're traveling. Drake lives near a village for our people."

"Who are your people, Rio? Why don't you want to be close to them?"

"I've always been happier on my own. I don't mind a solitary life."

Rachael smiled and snuggled deeper into her pillow. "You aren't willing to tell me anything at all about yourself. Even in friendship there has to be give-and-take, trust between two people. We don't have that between us."

"Then what do we have?" Rio knew she was right, but he didn't want to hear her say it. He wanted things to be different, but if he told her the things she wanted to know there was no chance for them.

"I'm so tired, Rio," Rachael said softly. "Can we do this tomorrow? I can't seem to stay awake no matter how hard I try. I think you keep putting something into that drink you're always telling me is so healthy."

She wanted to drop it. He recognized the signs. He was adept at avoiding topics he didn't want to discuss. And what was the point?

Rio lay listening to her breathing, his body so hard he felt that just one more brush against her skin might be the last straw. He would shatter into a million pieces. Sleeping on the floor away from her wouldn't stop it. Cold showers didn't help. The house was too small for the two of them to share unless they were together, and sleeping in the bed next to her and not touching her was just plain impossible.

Intellectually he knew it was because she was close to the Han Vol Dan and she was affecting him with her ripe scent. He wanted to blame it on that, the age-old call of female to male, but in truth, he wanted her in so many other ways. She made him happy and he didn't even know why. He didn't care why. He wanted her in his home. At his side. With him. It was fairly simple as he saw it.

Women. They always managed to complicate the simplest issue. He sat up, careful not to disturb her. He would get no sleep if he didn't slip out into the night and run. The farther and faster the better.

Rachael hoped she was dreaming. It wasn't a frightening nightmare, but it was disturbing. Not so much the images, but the idea of it all. She could see herself, stretching her body, arching her back, in the throes of sexual need. Not just a wanting-a craving, an obsession. The need was so strong she could think of nothing but finding Rio. Being with Rio. Rio's hands touching her, stroking her body, driving into her with wild abandon. There was heat and fire and still she wasn't satisfied. She could see her body rippling with pleasure, her body sleek and moist. Rio rolled over, pulling her on top of him, and Rachael threw back her head, thrust her breasts in invitation as she rode him frantically. She turned her head to look back at the sleeping Rachael, her face contorting as fur rippled over her body.

Rachael shook her head, stirred drowsily, wriggled a little to find the warmth and reassurance of Rio's body. He wasn't there. She turned over, careful of her injured leg. She was definitely alone in the bed. The house was dark, not unusual, Rio never lit a lamp, preferring to pad around the house barefoot, in the nude. He seemed to have such an affinity with the night, preferring that time to any other. Nothing in the shadows affected him or frightened him. He never really seemed to sleep deeply. The few times she woke in the dark, he was already alert, the change in her breathing enough to awaken him.

She lifted her head and studied the room. The mosquito net hanging over the door swayed like a dancing ghost in the wind. The door was open. Rio had gone on one of his many midnight adventures. He always came back more relaxed, the tension gone from his body. He was usually covered in sweat and would walk softly over to the basin to wash. Rachael loved watching him. She should have felt guilty, a voyeur, but she didn't. She simply feasted her eyes on his body, watched the ripple of his roped muscles and appreciated the fact that he was so intensely male.