The man didn’t move. He might as well be a statue for all she could tell. If only she could read his mind and figure out how it worked, she could decode all the gears shifting around in there. But she knew that was as likely to happen as Reaper was to don a pink tutu and start waving around a glittery wand.
The frustration that had been pacing around her for their entire journey finally won out. She stomped her foot, sending pain ricocheting through her upper arch, and then immediately grabbed it and began hopping around on one foot. Score one for Reaper—she had just pulled off the dumbest move of the century. He was gonna think she was a complete idiot if she kept up this behavior. And while she wasn’t willing to admit it to him, she could admit it to herself: she wanted so badly for him to like her.
“Fine. You can walk as long as you promise not to intentionally harm yourself again.” His harsh voice cut through her little rain dance and she stopped, carefully bouncing on the ball of her foot so as not to cause herself further injury.
“Fine, you have a deal. I promise not to intentionally harm myself.” The words sounded just as stupid coming out of her mouth as they had in her mind, but they seemed to appease her warrior. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction once more, giving her time to more closely study those rippling muscles underneath his tight T-shirt.
She’d seen pictures of supermodels who couldn’t pull off that level of sexy, but Reaper managed to do it without effort. His waist tapered into a narrow V that would make any woman salivate. Right along with a nice tight derrière that filled out those black tactical pants to perfection. He was a walking, talking god. Not like Adonis or anything, though—Reaper definitely belonged in the underworld.
Caroline snorted at her strange train of thoughts. And where exactly did she think she fit into his picture? She didn’t exactly run around in the same crowds as he did. It was impossible for her to picture him in a tuxedo and tie, and just as impossible for her to picture herself running around with a pistol gripped in her hand.
They went together about as well as Cinderella and Clint Eastwood.
That fairytale would never have a happily ever after. Caroline let out a pent-up sigh and ducked under a broad oval-shaped leaf the size of her entire body. She should just give up on this hero worship fantasy and focus on getting home to her father. He must be frantic. He’d devoted his entire life to safeguarding her, even going so far as to set up a prearranged marriage for her to ensure she’d be taken care of in the event of his death. He’d set up trust funds and signed over his entire properties in holdings to her in the event that anything ever happened to him. She’d grown up in the company of bodyguards. These precautions had been his response to the loss of her mother and twin-sister who’d died during birth.
Caroline didn’t resent growing up without a biological mother. Her cook and maid had been surrogate mothers, fussing and fighting over her, and her life had been filled up with enough love to erase any void. But there’d always been somethingelsemissing. She’d never been encouraged to seek out people her own age. Especially men her own age. She’d never felt real passion. The temptation she felt to reach out and touch Reaper, to take a chance, was so overpowering part of her wanted to take off running.
Of course, this wasn’t a situation she could escape, even if she took off running in the other direction. Reaper would just catch her, toss her over his shoulder and haul her out of the woods. The thought, although uncomfortable, made her belly quiver.
Geez—Winters had given her way too much drugs. Her mind was completely fried. She was in the sexual thrall of a soldier who could kill ten men with his bare hands and who was obviously annoyed every time she tried to spark up a conversation.
Good thing her housekeeper had always told her she could talk to a brick wall—she had a living, breathing one in front of her right now. She was no doctor, but most men with an injury as severe as Reaper’s would’ve passed out long ago.
Except for the blood pouring out of his shoulder, he hadn’t shown any signs of his injury wearing on him. However, now his skin was pale, and his hand felt a little cold against hers. He would probably never admit it, but his pace had slowed. If they didn’t make it out of the jungle soon, they’d have no choice but to overnight it in this deadly and dangerous wilderness.
A shiver worked across her shoulders and down her arms, and the pounding headache that had been hanging out just at the periphery of her senses pushed its way back in. Fatigue was like concrete shoes on her feet. Her own adrenaline had burned off and she was running low on energy.
Energy she couldn’t afford to lose if she was going to have to set up a shelter and watch over her man.Herman? What was she thinking?
Caroline stumbled into a brick wall, bounced off and glared at Reaper’s back. He could’ve at least told her he was about to stop right in front of her. But the chastisement on her lips went unspoken when she looked around his massive shoulders and saw the outskirts of the city. Hope surged through her so fast she got lightheaded. “You did it.”
“Did you doubt me?” His deep, husky voice made her think of dark nights, twisted up in silk sheets and skin on skin.
Her own experiences were so very far from that. She’d only made out with one guy in her life, an encounter about as exciting as kissing tree bark.
And it had been a complete set up, besides. Terry Green had arranged for his buddies to hide out nearby and take pictures of them locking lips. The tabloids had taken those snaps and run with them, implying that she and Terry had been hooking up for months and that the head of the American Morality Group, her father, couldn’t control his own teenage daughter.
She’d never even kissed her ex-fiancée’, the general,thank God.
Caroline’s childish dreams of dating the cute guy had been dashed completely by the whole incident, and after that she’d steered clear of men. She’d resigned herself to the fate of a politically arranged marriage, something that would at least make her father feel better about her future. So, she had avoided looking at other men, choosing not to put herself in a situation where she might be tempted.
But “tempted” was too small a word for what Reaper made her feel.
“So what’s the plan, Rambo?”
He shot her another annoyed glance and then went back to scanning the city. There were white, rectangular buildings interspersed with shacks and cement-block houses. The lush greenery of the jungle disappeared into a vast stretch of dry dirt and dead brown bushes.
It looked like no place she’d ever seen or been. The poverty was shocking to her, but it looked like an oasis compared the wild jungle they’d been trekking through all day.
“What’s going to happen is you’re gonna stay right here while I scout out a location for us to bunk down for the night. I can’t risk anyone spotting you.”
Alarm rushed from her head to her toes. Like hell she’d stay out here by herself. “No way. If you leave me here, I’ll just wait until you can’t see me anymore and head into the city by myself.”
“Dammit, Caroline, we’re not in the middle of the jungle anymore. There’s no room for error. You know Rainier runs the lab, he’s rich and he’s powerful and he doesn’t give a shit about anything that won’t keep him in that position. He has spies and workers in that town. As soon as someone spots your light skin and silky blonde hair, we’re as good as captured.”
He thought she had silky hair?
“Then I guess you’d better do a good job of camouflaging me. What if the men following us show up and capture me while you’re gone? What good would that do?” She bit her lip to keep from blurting out her true fear of a lion springing out of the bushes and devouring her alive.
