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Well, that s a mood killer. So much for my game.  How about you tell me a fun fact about you,
instead?
He yawns sleepily.  I ll try to think of something.
We re both quiet for the next while, and I put on a big log so it can burn all night. Then, I lie down
by the fire. I figure Mendoza s asleep again, and my thoughts fill of Rose. Beautiful, headstrong Rose
who thinks she can always get her way with a smile and a flirty laugh. Rose with her insulin pump.
Are they taking care of her? I wonder. Can we even be friends after this? Will I be able to look her in
the eye and not resent what her choice in men has put me through? I don t have answers to this, so I
close my eyes and try to sleep.
Just when I m about to drift off, Mendoza speaks. His voice is soft with exhaustion.  I thought of
something, Ava. A fun fact.
 What s that?
 I have an island.
This strikes me as . . . absurd.  Uh-huh.
 I bought it, he says, voice dazed with exhaustion.  Had a place in a favela in Rio called Tears
of God. Got too dangerous, so I bought an island. Moved a bunch of people there. To keep them safe.
 Go to sleep, Rafe, I tell him softly. I hope he s not hallucinating. I don t know what I ll do if he
gets sick and dies. Ava of the Jungle has just about hit her limits.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RAFAEL
The next morning I spend a long time watching Ava wake up. I imagine her on the island, in my bed.
My room faces the east because I like to see the sunrise. I m usually the first one up. It occurs to me
that the other men that join me for a run along the beach are almost all single, which makes sense
because if you have an Ava in bed with you, why in the hell would you be running at dawn when you
could be spreading her legs and feasting on her juicy pussy?
I run my tongue across my lower lip. I haven t tasted her. Am afraid to, really. I m the rabid dog at
the end of a weak leash wearing a frayed collar. Tasting her will snap the last threads of my control.
Deliberately, one by one, I force my fingers to relax from their clenched position and reach over
to wake Ava.
 Rise and shine. I shake the bladder of water. It ll be another couple of hours before we can
drink it since that s how long it takes for the purification tablets to do their job, but it holds three
liters of water, which will keep us plenty hydrated.
 It s too early, Rose, she mumbles.
It s pathetic that I m happy that it s her friend s name she mutters in her sleep, not some asshole
boyfriend s. I rub some nonexistent sleep out of my eye and shake her again.
 Rise and shine. Time to find civilization.
She stretches and the motion thrusts her breasts in the air, and the blanket slips down around her
thighs. There s a tantalizing stretch of skin exposed between the waistband of her yoga pants and the
bottom of her ragged shirt, which pulls up when her arms go over her head. My mouth waters at the
sight. I take a swig of the water hoping the stale taste will wake me out of my lust-induced fugue, but
then she shifts again and her shirt rides up even farther until the round curve of her breast is almost
revealed. Not even the tightness and pain in my back when I move breaks my concentration as I try to
will the fabric to go even higher.
I can t pull myself together until she sits up and rubs her eyes like a toddler. That forces me to
shake myself awake.
She blinks and glances around.  What time is it?
 Seven or so. The sun has been up for a couple of hours. I start packing our supplies into the
nylon knapsack.
 Hey. Don t we need that? she protests as I stamp out the fire.  Aren t we looking for more stuff
from the plane today?
 No. I don t look up from the ashes I m creating. I can t spend another night in a cave with Ava
and not take her. We re too isolated and the need in my body is overriding every other thought.  We
need to get out of the jungle.
 Oh, because of your injuries?
 Yeah, I lie.  Because of those.
I ve had worse than a knife in my back and a gouge in my eye but then again, I haven t had to take
care of a model at the same time. I shoulder the knapsack, ignoring the pain in my back. I lift the knife
so I can take a look at my eye in the blade s reflection.
 Oh for God s sake, Ava says and stomps over to me. She knocks my hand away and lifts up the
bandage. At the first touch of her hand on my temple, I freeze and all my good intentions fade, too.
 Your eye looks good. No oozing puss or grossness. Should I smell it or something? I saw someone
do that in a television show.
 Maybe check it again? I ask not because I doubt her word but because I want her to stand there
all day and look over every part of my body. I can actually see a little out of my bad eye, which
means the swelling is starting to go down. I ll be fine. And the scar on my back is nothing. I have a
scar on my chest from a wound I received nine years ago the first time I was sent to do wet work.
Guy knifed me before I could terminate him. She should check that out. Hell, I have scars all over my
body including I jerk away.
 Did I hurt you? She sounds unhappy or worried.
 No. And then to soften the harshness of my response, I add gruffly,  Thanks for looking out for
me.
 Well, you are my ticket home. She gives me a wan smile.
 Right. Let s get moving.
I heft the foot-long blade in my hand, the one Afonso tried to gore me with, and lead the way out of
the cave. It would do me good to remember that her touches and concern all have to do with getting
out of the jungle. Of course she s going to be nice to me. I m the only one around who can save her
pretty ass.
 Stay close and walk in my footsteps.
 Sure. She answers just as abruptly.
We make our way to the bank of the river where we mud up. The mosquito repellent that was in
the Boy Scout bag must have fallen out along with other things. Once done, we start walking
downstream.
There are no paths in this part of the jungle, not even overgrown ones, and that means there s no
village nearby. We walk silently for a long time. I can feel her eyes burning through my back. She has
questions she is dying to ask.
Around midmorning she breaks.  Do you know why I play the game?
 The one-question game? I want to make sure I understand her.
 Yes. I play it because then I can pretend we aren t in the jungle and that we re on stage two of
getting to know each other.
 What was stage one? I ask against my better judgment.
 Stage one was when you took me to the café and bought me food. Granted, now I know that you
were doing that as part of your mission or whatever, but at the time, it was flattering.
 Seems to me you get to stage one plenty of times.
 Not me. Rose. Her other friends, maybe, but I haven t been to stage one for a while. Is that
wistfulness I hear?
I stop and turn abruptly.  You have to be kidding me? How s a girl like you not getting chatted up
nonstop? You must be having stage one dates all the fucking time.
She grins then a true, happy smile stretches across her face. It s a good thing my boots are planted
shoulder-width apart, because that sort of beauty knocks a man on his ass if he s not prepared.  Have
you seen Rose? She s a model. A real runway model. I ve got pretty hands. She holds up her hands
and we both look at them. One is covered in mud and the other is still swollen and purple. Her hands
are not pretty anymore. They are soft, but right now, the only modeling she d be doing would be in a
survivalist magazine. I see the moment that realization hits, because her grin fades away and the light
in her eyes dies out.  Okay, maybe not right now, but I did have pretty hands.
Suddenly nothing seems more important to me than for Ava to know how fucking beautiful she is. I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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