Wild Rain

Chapter Fourteen

RIO entered the house in silence, leaving the door open to catch even the slightest breeze. The rain poured down in a steady rhythm, concealing the verandah and house in heavy white mists. The mosquito net performed a ghostly dance but his gaze was riveted to Rachael's face. He didn't even remember jogging home to her. His feet hurt, his body was tired and sore and a rage burned like a firestorm deep inside of him. He had stopped to bathe before coming to her, hoping the rage and pain would lessen beneath the spray of cleansing water. It hadn't.

He loomed over her, brooding, watching her, fury riding him hard. Pain eating away at his insides. He tasted loneliness for the first time. Rachael had done that, brought him back to life. She fascinated him, tempted him. Made him happy, sad, angry-everything all at once. And he was addicted to the scent and feel of her. Lust rose, a craving as dark as the fury swirling like a black, tumultuous cloud inside of him.

Rachael lay asleep on the bed. His bed. One hand was flung across his pillow, across the empty spot where he belonged. The thin cover was on the floor leaving her long legs sprawled across the sheet. She wore only his shirt, unbuttoned and open, exposing the creamy swell of her breasts. Her hair, as black as midnight, spilled across the white pillow in whorls and spirals, begging to be touched. She looked young in her sleep, long lashes forming two crescents against her skin. Her body lay open to him, soft and warm, an offering to appease the terrible hunger burning in him.

He didn't feel gentle or loverlike. He felt wild and inflamed, his body's urgent demands riding him hard. He knew it was a part of his heritage, but intellect didn't count when he stood in his home, when Rachael lay naked in his bed, her body open and waiting for his. Rio moved closer, laid his weapons aside, never taking his burning gaze from her. Soft skin, lush curves, her breasts a tempting invitation.

Rio was already as hard as a rock, but looking at her while she slept so peacefully, so unaware of her vulnerability, he thickened and hardened more. He touched his erection, for relief, wrapped his fist around the throbbing demand as he attempted to walk across the room to her. Taking steps was painful with his body so full and tight. There was a roaring in his head. His body dripped with his lust, his belly burned with it.

Rachael shifted restlessly as if she instinctively knew she was being stalked. She opened her eyes and saw his face, dark with passion, etched with lust. With intent. With something beyond mere desire. His look set her heart pounding. Made her mouth go dry. Turned her body to a pool of hot liquid. His gaze burned over her, hungry flames that sent electricity sparking on her skin everywhere his look brushed.

He struck swiftly, his fingers circling her arm, a throaty growl sending a shiver down her spine as he yanked her up so that his mouth melded to hers, one hand at the back of her head holding her still for his kiss. Not a kiss, fierce possession. Heat rushed over her like molten lava, blossomed and burst into volcanic flame. He dragged her closer, crushed her to him, his strength enormous, wanting skin against skin, wanting to feel her body impressed into the heat of his. Breath slammed out of her lungs and into his. His kiss was hungry, savage, devouring her, taking rather than asking, as if his hunger knew no boundaries.

His arms locked her to him, so tight she felt his every muscle, every beat of his heart, every breath he took. She tasted lust. She tasted desire. She tasted his fierce pride and something else. Pain. She knew bone-deep anguish and she recognized it in him. She knew what he was doing even when he didn't. His mouth was hot velvet, his tongue dueling with hers, a tango of breath and moist heat. He gave her no chance to breathe, to do anything but accept the firestorm in him. To let it wash over her so that she caught flame too, was pulled into a whirling vortex, a tornado of pure desire.

Rachael kissed him back, every bit as wild, allowing the greedy lust to rise in her, to match the fierce inferno raging in him. She gave herself up to him, her arms around his neck, holding him to her. He stole the breath from her body and used it for his own air. His teeth moved down her chin, her throat, taking small greedy bites as if he would devour her alive. Rachael gasped with the wash of sensation, her nails biting deep into his arms as she arched her body. Waiting. Aching. Wanting more.

His mouth, hot and insistent with demands, went lower still, closed over her breast and suckled strongly. She cried out, unable to contain the blaze sweeping through her body. She thrust against his mouth, her fingers finding his hair, closing in two fists, dragging him closer. She didn't want him gentle and considerate, she wanted him exactly the way he was, wild, untamed, driven beyond control, on fire with urgent need and ravenous hunger. For her. For her body.

His mouth took away sanity and replaced it with feeling. Abruptly he lifted his head, eyes glittering as he dragged the pillows and blankets beneath her hips. She could see his body, hard and perfect, every muscle defined as if carved from rock. His face was etched with dark hunger. His gaze dropped to the triangle of black tiny curls and her heart pounded wildly. There was an unspoken command in his look. A demand.

A wave of heat swept over her. She felt her body go liquid in her deepest core. Very slowly she obeyed that silent command, shifting her legs, opening them for him. The air on her slick, wet entrance inflamed her more. His fingers circled her good ankle. He bent her leg at the knee. There was a proprietary feel to his hand on her leg. He was much more gentle helping her with her injured leg. His hands went to her thighs, gripping, opening her wider, one knee on the bed between her legs. Not once did he raise his gaze to her face. He seemed fascinated with her glistening body.

She waited, hardly daring to breathe, her heart pounding in anticipation. She wanted to plead with him, weep with the dark passion riding her so hard. There wasn't an inch on her body that didn't ache for his touch. His tongue moistened his lower lip and she writhed with pleasure. He hadn't touched her, but the force of his gaze had. And it left her needing-craving.

His thumbs bit into her thighs as he wedged his shoulders between her legs, opened her completely to him. She knew what he was doing. Claiming her. Branding her. Making her his so that no one else would ever do. He breathed warmth into the seething pool of fire. She cried out, would have jumped away but he held her still, without mercy, for his invasion. His tongue stabbed deep, a weapon of wicked pleasure, lapping and licking and stroking while she screamed in a wild, endless orgasm.

"More," he growled ruthlessly. "I want more."

He pushed his finger deep inside of her, pressed deep while she thrust against his palm, while her body clamped around him, gripped in the throes of passion. He put his finger to his mouth, surged over the top of her, bracing his body with his arms. He ducked his head, leaned forward to suckle at her breast. Her body nearly exploded. She clung to his arms, trying to hold on when the world seemed to be spinning out of control.

Lying as he was, her hips cradling his, the head of his penis was against her wet, throbbing entrance. She tried to take him inside of her, but he held her still, waiting, pushing up her need, the sense of urgency consuming them both. Then he thrust hard, buried himself deep, driving into her velvet sheath so that her folds parted like the soft petals of a flower and she opened to him. He tilted her hips, urging her to take all of him, every inch, welding them together in a frenzy of fury and dark passion.

He whispered to her in the ancient tongue of his people, admitting he loved her, that he needed her, but the words beat more in his head than in his throat. He drove her up higher and higher, pushing them both to their limits, a wild, tumultuous ride. He clenched his teeth against the waves of sensations, against the jackhammers tripping in his head, against the tightness sweeping through his body and the inevitable explosion that started in his toes and burst upward.

A tidal wave swept through Rachael, carried her up and up until there was no where to go and she was free-falling, imploding, fragmenting. Until there was no part of her that wasn't consumed by fiery pleasure. It licked over her skin and behind her eyelids. Flames rolled in her stomach and burned in her deepest core. Her body rocked with quakes, a riptide of sensations that went on and on. If she moved, if he moved, the rippling effect started all over again.

Rio lay over her, his head resting on hers, breathing deeply, fighting for control. Most of his fury was spent in her arms. Rachael. Only Rachael would have accepted such a joining. Only Rachael would look at him with her heart in her eyes. No matter how tight he clung to her, she never pushed him away. Never said enough. There were questions in her eyes, but she didn't ask them, not even when he separated them. She simply wrapped her arms around him, turning a bit on her side to give him room, his head against the soft pillow of her breasts.

"You need sleep, Rio. You're exhausted."

He didn't say anything, just lay next to her, taking in their combined scents, listening to the endless rain. He found it soothing. The forest had stirred to life, animals calling out, insects humming, birds singing. The background music, always present.

Rio lay awake long after Rachael had gone to sleep. Fear choked him, nearly suffocated him. When had she become so damned essential to breathing? How had she managed to invade his life and wrap herself around his heart? He couldn't imagine his life without her. She was so warm and soft and perfect. He had memories of warm and soft and perfect and those memories turned into nightmares of blood and death and rage.

He wanted this to be his life. Rachael-her laughter, her courage, her moods and shifts of temper. Lovemaking as sweet and tender as he could make it or a fierce need that could only be assuaged with a wild mating.

Her breast was a temptation he couldn't ignore. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, then sucked the creamy mound into his mouth. It seemed a miracle to be able to lie with her, suckling her breast when he wanted, sliding his hand over her body to dip his finger deep inside of her. Even in her sleep she was responsive. Clenching her muscles around him, shifting to arch into his mouth deeper. She smiled, murmured something incoherent and tunneled her fingers in his hair. She slept like that, her body wet with wanting him, his mouth on her breast and his hand cupping her tight curls possessively, while her fingers were buried in his hair.

Rio woke to the feel of Rachael's tongue lapping at his morning erection. Her mouth was hot and teasing, her tongue playing over him, her teeth sliding gently, wickedly. For a moment she sucked him deep into her throat and he groaned, lifting his hips, helpless in her thrall. His eyes weren't even open and she was cupping his balls; he was already rock hard with her ministrations. He lifted his lashes to watch her. She looked like a contented cat, pleased and stimulated, her silken hair tumbling in curls around her face. She knelt between his legs, her beautiful derriere raised and keeping time with the lapping of her tongue. Her breasts were full, nipples erect. He watched his body slide in and out of her mouth, glistening wet, growing thicker and harder as he began to thrust forward and withdraw. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He meant to say it, but the words came out somewhere between a groan and a husky whisper. She did things with her tongue and teeth and her sinful mouth that drove him out of his mind.

She pulled her hot mouth away and replaced it with something cold and wet and sticky. Rachael smiled as she teased him with a ripe mango fruit, sliding it over and around him, thoroughly dripping the nectar over his bulging erection. He didn't think he could get any harder or thicker, but she managed it. "Good morning. I thought you could use breakfast." She handed him the fruit and went back to licking, this time teasing with her tongue as she tried to retrieve every drop of juice.

Rio stared at her dumbly, shocked to find the mango in his palm. He lay back and took a bite of the juicy exotic fruit. It ran down his chin but he was too caught up in watching Rachael enjoying herself. There couldn't be another woman like her on the face of the earth. He found everything about her sexy, especially the way she enjoyed his body. She was proprietarial about it, as if his body belonged to her and she could do whatever she wanted. And right now she wanted to sit astride him.

Rachael didn't wait. Rio had suckled her breast on and off while she dozed, had pushed his fingers deep inside of her, keeping her wet and on edge and in need. He could do something about it now that he was awake. She'd been patient enough. She knelt over him and slowly lowered herself over his burgeoning penis.

He gasped as he felt his body push its way into hers. She was tight and hot and slick all at the same time. She wanted control and he gave it to her, eating the mango she'd given him while she began a slow, sensual ride. Her breasts jiggled with invitation as she picked up her rhythm, sliding up and down him with obvious relish. He dripped some of the juice over her breast, watched it run over the swell to the tip of her nipple. He leaned forward and caught it lazily with his tongue. His body was on sweet fire, and if she wanted to play he could oblige.

She opened her mouth. Rio fed her a bite, watched her chew as her body slid over his. Rubbed his with heat and fire. She licked his finger, her tongue curling around him in a sexy, explicit manner. He closed his eyes and groaned. He couldn't take much more. She seemed in no hurry, simply pleasuring herself and him at a leisurely pace. The pressure started slow, he didn't even notice it at first, but then it began to lick at his skin, tighten his muscles and put every cell in his body on alert.

He tried to thrust upward to meet her body, but she glared at him and he stopped. A flush spread over her skin until she glowed. Her breath came in small gasps and her nipples tightened. She reached almost blindly for Rio's hands. He had enough sense to take the last bite of mango and catch her, bracing her while she rode hard, grinding against him, bringing both of their bodies to a fever pitch. He met the rhythm of her ride, thrusting into her, bringing the last exquisite peak to them. They finished together, a whirlwind of pounding blood and rockets.

Rachael laughed happily and leaned forward to lick the juice from his chin. "You're a sticky mess. Luckily we have the tub still here."

"With cold water," he felt compelled to point out.

Her smile widened into a mischievous grin. "Well, I did heat it up a bit while you slept. It wasn't that difficult."

"You heated up bathwater for me? And I slept right through it? I never do that. I wake up at the slightest sound. You're ruining me, woman." No one had ever heated up bathwater for him. It was a tedious task. It had to be done on the gas stove if the fireplace wasn't lit. She had obviously spent a great deal of time on the task. Happiness burst through him like the sun rising.

"I hope I'm ruining you. What a marvelous concept." She collapsed, lying partially on top of him, her soft breasts mashed against his chest. He could feel her there, a part of him, taking over his heart and lungs, even his life, until he couldn't breathe without her. "Are you going to tell me what happened, Rio?" Her fingertips brushed at his hair, slid over his face, made every muscle in his stomach clench tightly. Her voice was very gentle. Her eyes too compassionate.

Rio tried a casual shrug. "It was a mission, just like every other." He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want her to ever see him the way the elders had. Stripped naked of all pride. Vulnerable. His life in their hands. Their disgust. Their betrayal,-or maybe it was his. He honestly didn't know.

"Not like every other," Rachael persisted. "What was different about this one?"

He wanted to push her away. He wanted to shift shape and run free in the forest. The urge was on him wild and strong, a rush of fur rippling as his muscles contracted, crackled and snapped.

"Oh no you don't," Rachael flung her arms around him. "You stay with me. I'm not about to let you escape. This is too important."

It was ludicrous to think she could hold him. His strength was enormous, but she was looking at him with her large, liquid eyes and he couldn't bear to break her heart. Better his than hers. He tried to shrug casually, difficult when she was clinging like a monkey. "Joshua told me Drake was shot. I tried to get information, couldn't raise anyone on the radio. Two men tried to ambush Joshua and I had no choice other than to take them out." He looked away from her. She saw too damned much with those eyes of hers. "I killed them."

She said nothing, but her hand slipped into his.

"I had to get Joshua across the river and back to the village where there was medical help. I field dressed his wounds, but he lost too much blood and needed immediate attention."

"What happened?" She knew there was far more to the story than the bare bones he was giving her.

"Tomas and his men caught us at the river. I'd left Josh in a tree, hoping to get him across before Tomas caught up with us. I didn't want to take the chance with his open wounds in the river. If I stumbled, he could get a major infection." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Unfortunately, I didn't have any of Tama's famous green gunk to smear on him."

"So you left him in the tree and went to do what?"

"I have a pulley and sling I sometimes use for the cats, especially if the current is strong. I went to retrieve it, but Tomas snowed up. I winged a couple of his men, forcing him to get them medical aid."

"But he left someone behind."

Rio sat up and pushed his hands through his dark hair. "A bath sounds good."

She took his hand and tugged. "Come on then. Get in and I'll wash you, like you did me. It felt delicious."

Rio stretched and padded across to the small closet that passed for the bathroom. He wasn't going to tell Rachael he preferred the jungle. After his performance at dawn, she very well might think him entirely uncivilized. Rachael was making him coffee when he returned.

"You're spoiling me."

"I hope so." She frowned at the marks on his body. "Leeches? Did those nasty little things manage to get on you again?"

"I was laying in the bog, wailing for my shot. They go for body heat."

She grinned at him and pushed him toward the tub. "Well, we both know you have plenty of heat."

He sank into the steaming water. Her hands went to his shoulders, soapy, sliding as she massaged the aches away. "Tell me what happened to upset you, Rio."

She was standing behind him, her hands wielding magic on his sore muscles. It was far easier to talk about it when he wasn't facing her. "I took him to the village. It was a long, difficult journey lugging Josh. Half the time I was afraid he was dead and the other half I knew I was hurting him. I didn't have time to change into clothes so I had to go through the shrubbery bare."

"That's where all the scratches and cuts came from. Why did you shift?" She kept her voice curious, careful not to sound judgmental or accusing.

"To get back across the river before the man left behind spotted Joshua."

Rachael kept kneading the tight muscles in his shoulders. He had made a third kill and wounded others. It had been a bad night. She remained silent, leaning down to brush a kiss on the top of his head.

"I don't know what happened, Rachael. I guess I was tired. I don't care what the elders think of me. I knowingly broke our rules. I accepted the consequences. I live with the banishment and it's never made me feel less of a human being."

Her hands stilled on his shoulders. Something frightening bubbled in the pit of her stomach. "You carried Josh home and they said something mean to you?"

"They don't speak to me. They don't look at me. I'm dead to them. If they happen to look my way, they look through me. If I spoke, if I had tried to tell them what happened to Joshua, they wouldn't have heard me."

"Those bloody bastards," she hissed.

Her swearing startled him. Not just her swearing but her choice of expletives. "That doesn't sound like South America to me." He turned his head to look at her, a small grin on his face because she could take the sting of the elders' rejection away with a few choice words.

"I went to school for a year in England. You'd be surprised the things you pick up," she said and rubbed shampoo into his hair with a little too much vigor. "I'd like to have the chance to meet these wise elders of yours. Greedy little vultures with their hands out and you doing the risky jobs. What about the men you work with?"

If she rubbed any harder she was going to take his scalp off. "Most of them live away from the village and of course we talk. You saw Drake. It's better for them if they don't advertise we're friendly because technically they're breaking the rules. I guess if the elders can't see it, they don't mind it."

"Sanctimonious bastards."

He caught her wrist gently. "I'm going bald, sestrilla. I can't afford the hair loss. I have a woman now and she's very edgy about certain things."

She smacked the top of his head with the flat of her hand. Soap bubbles flew everywhere, making her laugh. "I'm not in the least edgy. It's just that these idiot elders…"

"Wise elders," he corrected and hastily ducked under the water before she could smack him again. He stayed low while she massaged the soap out of his hair. When he came up she made a sound of complete disgust.

"I don't know who gave them that title. Most likely they did. In any case, are you telling me that you hauled that man through miles of forest and those men didn't even say thank you?"

"Normally it doesn't bother me. It really doesn't. But standing there with Joshua's blood all over me and my feet hurting like a son of a gun, I felt like a kid again. I felt ashamed of my actions, my lack of control, the terrible thing inside of me that won't forgive the one who killed my mother. And I wasn't certain I could forgive them, and still don't know if I have. Not one of them said they were sorry for her death. I felt like I mourned her alone. I felt rage and I felt shame. Damn it, Rachael, I hated that."

"They're the ones who should be ashamed with their no forgiveness." There was a fierce, protective instinct welling up in her. "They don't know the difference between good and evil. They aren't very wise."

"And you do?" He lifted an eyebrow at her.

Outside the birds shrieked and several monkeys screamed a warning. Rio stood up, the water pouring off of him. He turned his head alertly toward the door, taking the towel she handed him. "You need clothes on, Rachael," Rio said. "Company's coming and coming fast."

"I thought you said I didn't need clothes and I had to get over my civilized inhibited ways."

Her voice teased his senses, whispered over his skin like a silken glove. She made life worth living. He caught her hair gently, tugged her head to him and fastened his mouth to hers. He was instantly, ravenously hungry all over again. "You're killing me, sestrilla, I'm not going to survive. I don't think I have the stamina."

She laughed softly and flung her arms around him, holding him to her as if he were the most precious thing in the world. She peppered kisses all over his face. "You do just fine. I need to start cooking for you, build up your strength."

He couldn't stop his roving hands from sliding down her back, shaping the curve of her hip, cupping her bare buttocks. Rio allowed himself the luxury of burying his face against her soft throat. Love filled him up, burst out of him, a tide he couldn't stem, but he couldn't find the words to say it without choking. He held her, feeling her alive and warm and real in his arms. "Damn it, Rachael." His voice was gruff as he pushed her way, holding her at arm's length. "You're turning me into a poodle."

Her entire face lit up, her dark eyes laughing, her mouth curved and soft and beautiful. He ached to kiss her again, but tossed her a pair of jeans instead. "Stop laughing at me and put your clothes on."

"A poodle? Have you ever seen a poodle?" She finger-combed her hair, grinning at him. "I have the hair, maybe we can make a match." The sunlight pooled around her, soft rays that barely filtered through the canopy but found her, were drawn to her in the same way he was drawn. She looked radiant, filled with joy.

He had been so filled with pain and shame and anger the night before. In a few hours of bliss, she had shaken his world, turned it so that he could only feel joy and laughter and a paradise of pleasure. "You're tempting me, woman, and I'm going to throw you back in that bed."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I doubt if I'm in any danger when you were just complaining about stamina. Wimpy male."

He tackled her, driving her back onto the mattress, throwing his body over hers. She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. He pressed his erection against her, rubbing back and forth to show her what stamina was all about. Rachael didn't seem very impressed, laughing until he stopped her with his kisses.

The whoop, whoop of warning by the birds just outside on the railing of the verandah forced him to leave the temptation of her body. She lay on the bed, laughter fading into a smile as she looked at him. Something about her mysterious, feminine smile set his heart pounding.

Deliberately she began to pull his jeans slowly up her bare legs, wiggling to bring them over her hips and bare bottom. She left them open, exposing the triangle of tiny black curls. She stood there with her bare breasts thrusting toward him invitingly. "I can't find my shut."

His mouth was dry. "You shameless hussy. You're deliberately provoking me." His fingers crushed the material of the shirt, his gaze drinking her in.

"Is it working?"

"Damn right it is. Put the shirt on before we shock poor Kim."

Rachael looked alarmed. "Kim? The guide?" She held out her hand for the shirt.

He held the shirt to his chest. "Come and get it."

Rachael went without hesitation, one arm sliding around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest while her other hand slipped between his legs and began to caress and dance and cup him right through the material of his jeans. Her lips were at his throat, tongue swirling in a small, deliberate caress. Rio rocked against her hand, wanting her all over again with such an urgency it was as if he'd never once made love to her. Or as if his body remembered every magical moment and was obsessed.

Franz coughed a warning. Rio groaned and dragged the shirt around her, buttoning it quickly. It was the only safe thing to do. Barefoot, he pulled her with him onto the verandah to wait for their guest.

Rachael looked down to see Kim climbing the tree. He wasn't as fast or as efficient as Rio, but he was sure and steady. He gained the lower branches and made his way up to them.

"What brings you so far from home?" Rio greeted.

"My father sent me with news and I wanted to tell you about the man from the church group who was missing." Kim smiled at Rachael. "You look so much better, Miss Rachael. How is your leg?"

"It's far better, Kim. I see you're looking good. I hate to admit this, and let's not tell your brother, but his green gunk works."

Kim nodded seriously, willing to be a conspirator. "Tama is renowned for his healing skills. It was foul-looking though, wasn't it?" He exchanged a smile of understanding with her.

"Which man got away from the bandits?" Rachael asked.

"The one called Duncan Powell."

She remembered Duncan well. He stayed to himself a lot, but was always extremely polite. "I hope he managed to get away safely."

"That is what you both need to know. The man who escaped on his own from Tomas was one of your kind, Rio. He shifted into the form of a cat and mauled a guard, escaping into the forest. None of Tomas's people spoke of it, but two of the church group saw the shadow of the leopard on the rocks. They said they saw the guard ripped up and it had to have been a large cat."

"The men are very superstitious," Rio explained to Rachael. "They believe that the bigger cats are deities. Leopards are rare in these forests, so seeing one, especially attacking a guard at night, means many things to them. Unfortunately, it will also bring poachers here. The attack will most likely be talked about and the incident will grow into multiple incidents and the gossip will be we have a man killer on our hands." Rio sighed and pushed his hand through his hair. "Damn that idiot anyway. He could have gotten out of the camp without being seen and no one would have been the wiser."

"The guard had beaten him," Kim said.

A humorless smile curved Rio's mouth. "We never forget, that's one thing about our people."

"He will most likely come here," Kim pointed out.

"He's dead," Rio said abruptly. "He tried to kill us a couple of nights ago and I took Rachael to a safe place and tracked him. He's dead. Drake destroyed the body. Have you heard anything about the raid last night? I understand Drake took a hit. I've heard nothing on the radio. How bad was it?"

"He lost a lot of blood and his leg was shattered. They've flown him to a hospital for surgery. One of your own doctors is attempting to repair the damage. He'll live, but I don't know if they can save his leg."

Rachael put her hand on Rio's shoulder when she heard him swear softly under his breath. "He's strong, Rio."

"No man wants to lose his leg."

Her fingers went to the nape of his neck in a slow massage. "No they don't. Let's hope that's not what happens,"

She rubbed her face along Rio's arm, much like a cat giving affection. "Kim, Rio told me a man named Joshua was hurt last night too. Have you heard anything about him?"

"He is going to be down for a long while, but he will recover."

"Why did your father send you to us?" Rio asked abruptly.

"There's a large party moving through the forest, Rio." Kim's face was open and friendly, but there was a hint of shadow in his eyes. "A man came to our village seeking my father's counsel. He said he needed help, that he does medical research and was looking for a variety of plants for his work. He knew all of the old traditions. He was very respectful and he gifted my father with a spear."

Rio's head went up. Rachael could see hiss frown. "He gave your father a spear?"

"It was old, very old. And it was one of ours. He claimed that the spear was handed down two generations. That it was given to honor his grandfather for saving the life of a child, and that if it was returned, a debt of honor would be repaid."

"This man is a doctor?"

Kim shook his head. "I don't think so. I think he is not telling the truth. He asked for a guide and father sent Tama with him and then sent me to find you. My father believes this man is looking for Miss Rachael."

"Why would he think that?" Rachael asked. "Did he ask about me?"

"My father had a vision. He saw this man standing beside you with a gun in his hand. He sent me to warn Rio." Kim looked at Rachael. "I see disbelief in your eyes, Miss Rachael. Don't discount my father's visions because you have not experienced such a thing. He has kept our people from harm over many years."

"He's a powerful medicine man," Rio added. "I won't allow Rachael to take chances, Kim. Thank you for warning us. You've come a long way. Come in and have something to drink. I can fix us a meal."

Kim stepped into the house and glanced across the room toward the rumbled bed. Rachael found herself blushing. Rio laced his fingers through hers and drew her hand to his mouth, teeth nibbling gently before pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "Does this doctor have a large party with him?"

Kim nodded. "Many men. All are armed. Why would a research team need guns? Where would they get such guns just coming into the country? Money changed hands, a lot of it, for this man to have those weapons available to him. They have supplies enough for several weeks. The luggage is top of the line. Whoever it is, he has money and doesn't mind spending it. There are no women along, and that's a bad sign. All of the men in his party are warriors."

Rio brought Rachael's hand to his heart. She didn't look at him. She was staring out the door into the forest. There was regret and sadness on her face. He caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. Rio pressed her hand tighter to his chest. "It doesn't change anything, Rachael."

"It changes everything. You know it does. You know who he is. I never thought he'd go this far." Her voice was choked with tears.

"Rachael, this is my world. If I have to…"

"No! Don't you touch him. Don't you go near him." There was a fierce, protective note in her voice. "You have no idea what he gave up for me. What he's had to cope with all of his life. Don't you dare judge him." Rachael pulled away from him and went out the door to stand on the edge of the verandah, staring out into the forest.