The man pitched forward and landed with a hard thud flat on his face. He lost his grip on his machete, which spiraled into the weeds. Rory burst onto the path and pounced on his back. He struggled to pitch Rory off, to get back on his feet, or at least hands and knees, but Rory dug his knees into his shoulders until the man groaned with pain.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t…say,” the man gasped. “Important. Legal.”
Sure. Whatever. Rory leaned to the right so he could reach the machete. Just as he grabbed it, the man managed to roll out from under him. Rory sprang to his feet and brandished the machete at him.
“Walk. Slowly and carefully. Go.”
The intruder raised his hands and did as he was told.
They headed for the camp, while Rory made his decision. He didn’t have the right to put these kind scientists in danger. It was time for him to tell the truth so they could all decide what to do about this suddenly very real threat.
13
“Rory.” Mathilda gently touched the pilot’s shoulder. He sure had great taste in clothes. His loose ivory linen shirt was custom tailored, even though it was pretty grungy after a couple of sweaty nights in the jungle. He must make a pretty good salary working for Lincoln Kerr. “Rory, there’s some chicken soup here for you. Are you hungry?”
Although his eyelids quivered, Rory didn’t stir. Maybe his need for sleep was greater than his need for food at the moment.
“I’m going to leave it right here.” She set the bowl of soup on a chair next to the pilot’s cot, making sure the mosquito net would protect it from flies. “You’re welcome to it whenever you’re ready.”
She waited, wondering if the sound of her voice would wake him up. This man must know a thing or two about Lincoln Kerr. She already had a long list of questions she hoped to sneak in.
The quiet inside the tent was broken by a loud shout from outside.
“Everyone, get out here!” Lincoln’s commanding voice rang through the camp, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. Mathilda jumped to her feet, ready to run outside to see what the fuss was, but stopped at a sound from the cot.
The pilot’s eyelids were open. “Rory.”
She crouched next to him. “Yes, you’re Rory. I’m Mathilda. I brought you some soup.”
From outside came a series of shocked exclamations and gasps, and a “what the fuck, bruddah” in Robert’s deep voice. Jeez, what on earth was going on? She had to get out there and find out.
“Look, your soup is right here.” She lifted the bowl to show him. “It’s ready to eat. I made sure it’s not too hot. I have to run outside and see what’s going on, okay? Take your time, Rory.”
He frowned at her in a very arrogant manner. “What kind of soup?”
“What kind?” Was he really in a position to be picky? “Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian. This is chicken soup with rice. It’s very nutritious. Enjoy.”
She straightened up, then noticed that he was staring at her.
“What’s the matter?”
“You were kissing. Before.”
He must be remembering the moment he woke up and interrupted her and Lincoln. Her face heated. “Not quite. Our lips did not make contact. Trust me, I’m not dumb enough to get involved with a heartless billionaire. I know that type just as well as you do. You work for one, I grew up around them. But don’t tell anyone, it’s not something I like to talk about.”
He frowned at her with blatant disapproval. “What’s wrong…” He gestured vaguely at her instead of finishing his sentence. Since he was still staring at her, she figured he must be reacting to something about her appearance. She touched her hair and realized it had degenerated into a tangled mess.
Bristling, she said, “This is the jungle, not a beauty pageant. That’s one of the reasons I love it here. Besides, you look a lot worse than I do. You smell worse, too.”
He blinked slowly at her, while she cursed herself for being so childish. The man had just come out of a coma. She shouldn’t expect good manners from him.
But that wasn’t why she was sniping at him. The truth was, she’d expected to like the pilot more than his boss, and that just wasn’t the case.
Outside, a loud argument had broken out. She had to go see what the shouting was all about.
“Gotta go, Rory. Don’t forget your soup.”
