Wild Rain

Chapter Five

"YOU know how to wreck a perfectly good evening, don't you?" Rachael didn't lift her head from the comfort of his shoulder, but stared out into the forest. Shadows moved from canopy to floor. A symphony of music made up of every kind of rustle, croak and insect sound accompanied the wind. "I always thought it would be quiet. The edges of the forest are so active, around the swamps. Fish jumping, and insects always busy, but for some reason I thought when I reached the interior it would be peaceful."

"Think of it as songs of the forest. I've always loved the way the insects and birds sound against the leaves in the wind. It's all music if you love it, Rachael."

"I suppose it is. Why can't people just leave us alone, Rio? Yes, I ran away. Does it really matter so much why I ran? Who I ran away from? What difference does it make all the way out here, in the middle of a forest?"

Rio tried not to hear the wistful note in her voice. More, tried not to react to it. "It's perfectly reasonable of me to want and need to know why someone would want to kill you. Do you have a husband you ran away from? Someone rich and powerful enough to track you even here? Why wouldn't he just let you go?" He felt her beside him, fitting into the lines of his body. Heard her breathing softly. Her skin was hot, but soft and inviting. Even more than the physical temptation was her courage and sense of humor. She was occupying his thoughts, invading his blood. Rio reached over her to pull her broken wrist across her lap, positioning it for maximum comfort. "I guess that was a silly question. I might not have let you go myself."

Rachael lifted her head to look at him. A faint smile curved her mouth. "Rio, that was a nice thing to say to me. Thank you."

He looked harassed instead of grateful for her appreciation. "You have to tell me why, Rachael. If someone is going to come looking, I have to be prepared."

"There is no way to prepare. As soon as I'm able, I'll keep going. There has to be a place where they can't find me. I'm hoping they believe I'm dead."

"If Kim is alive, he'll know you survived. He's one of the best trackers around. And he'll go looking for you because you were in his care. The government is going to be up in arms, having a church group bringing medical supplies taken by bandits. They'll be looking for the entire group. The countries need the aid and the last thing they want is for it to get out that it's dangerous to travel along the rivers or near the forest, two major tourist draws. And if you have someone else, an outside source, pushing the government to go after the bandits, they'll search the river thoroughly."

"People drown all the time and their bodies are never found. Is Kim Pang a friend of yours? If he comes looking could you persuade him to say I drowned?"

"Kim won't lie. If he's still alive, and as soon as possible I'm going to find out, I'll ask him to disappear so he can't be questioned. He has a certain reputation, well deserved. He shouldn't lose it over this."

Rachael turned her face away from him. "I liked him. I liked him more than I liked the others. I don't think those bandits were there to kidnap us for ransom. I think they were paid a great deal of money to find me."

Rio shook his head. "I can't see anyone hating you so much."

"I didn't say he hated me."

He felt the blow in his gut, the dark spread of jealousy, the dangerous traits of his animal side. He wasn't going to let passion rule him, it was far too risky. He had a life now, one he enjoyed. One he could live with. Rachael was not going to ruin it for him.

The wind shifted, touching their faces with droplets of water. Rio immediately leaned over her, protecting her from the rain until the wind settled again. "Bandits are common in these parts. All up and down the river. Not just here but nearly all the countries where the forest and river make it easier to disappear. Indochina, Malaysia, the Philippines, Thailand, all of them. This isn't a unique situation, or even unexpected. Didn't they warn you there was danger?" He kept his voice low, even. Nothing would betray the smoldering anger stirring in his belly. She didn't belong to him. And she was never going to belong to him.

"The odds seemed in our favor."

"I see it all the time. You should have stayed home, Rachael. You should have gone to the police."

"Not everyone has options, Rio. I did the best I could in the circumstances. I won't stay here, just long enough to heal my leg."

"Do you think it's going to happen overnight?"

His voice was low, almost sensual it was so velvet soft, but she had to blink back tears. She brought danger with her whether he wanted to believe it or not. She wanted to think she could walk away, keep him safe, but she knew he was right. She didn't want the reality of her life anymore. If she were desperate enough to dare the raging river, surely he could see she needed a space of time where she could pretend she was safe.

The forest called to her, a dark sanctuary capable of hiding all kinds of secrets. Why not her? The foliage and creeper vines hid his entire home, cradled high in the branches of a tree. There had to be a way to disappear in the rain forest. "Rio, I know you're here because you're hiding from the world. Can't you teach me how to live here? There has to be a place for me."

"I was born here. The forest is my home and it always will be. I can't breathe in the city. I have no desire to live and work there. I don't want television or movies. I go in, get my books and I'm a happy man. A woman like you can't live here."

"Like me?" She turned the full power of her dark eyes on him. "A woman like me? What kind of woman am I, Rio? I'd like to hear your analysis because you use that term a lot. A woman like me."

Rio turned his head, amusement and even admiration welling up out of nowhere. There was a bite to her voice, a distinctly feminine challenge. She was sitting on his front porch wrapped in his shirt, her bare thigh pressed against his leg, an infection ravaging her body and the jungle creeping close, and she could still manage to act perfectly at home and even annoyed with him.

At home with him. At ease, as if they had known one another for all time.

A bird screeched a warning, high up in the canopy. Monkeys sounded a call for complete vigilance. Movement in the forest ceased. There was a sudden, unnatural silence. Only the rain fell steadily. Rio was on his feet instantly, moving back into the shadows, lifting his face to the wind, sniffing the air as if scenting for enemies. He snapped his fingers, crouching low as the two clouded leopards padded silently onto the verandah, coming quickly from the house as if summoned. One lifted its lip, bared its teeth in a silent snarl. Rio hunkered down, his movement slow and careful so as not to draw attention, circled both cat's necks with his arms, his fingers massaging the fur as he whispered to them. When he stepped away, the two small leopards took to the trees.

Rio lifted Rachael into his arms. Again his movements were unhurried, very slow. "Don't make a sound. Not a sound, Rachael." His lips were pressed against her ear, sending a small shiver down her spine. He moved with ease inside to place her back on the bed. Pressed as close as she was to his body, she felt him trembling, something moving against his skin, pushing against hers. It made her itch for a moment. His hands were gentle as he pulled the cover around her but she felt the tug of something sharp along her skin, as if something scratched her.

Catching her face in his hands he stared into her eyes. "I need to know you know what you're doing right now. I'm better out there," he waved toward the open door. "I'm of more use to us out there. You can't have a light, Rachael, it will just give away your position. You'll have to make do in the dark and I'll give you a gun, but you have to stay alert. Can you do that?"

Rio's voice was a mere thread of sound. Rachael stared up at him, trapped in the ferocity of his gaze. His eyes were different, more yellow than green, pupils dilated and staring. A haunting, eerie, never-to-be-forgotten stare of a wild animal on the hunt. Her heart began to pound. "Rachael, answer me. I need to know." A flicker of worry crept into the wildness in his eyes. His expression was grim. "Someone's here."

There was something entirely different about his eyes. She wasn't mistaken. His eyes were enormous, wide, staring, an eerie calm about them, a dangerous intensity. His pupils, very round, were nearly three times as large as she thought a human eye would open, allowing him to see in the dark night. She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Rio never blinked. Never moved his gaze from her face. His eyes looked like marble or glass, all-seeing, all-knowing, a strange haunting, yet beautiful glow to them. "You must have excellent night vision." The words squeaked out. Silly.

Rachael felt like a frightened child. She had a real enemy. She didn't need to be making up supernatural beings and scaring herself. She straightened her shoulders, determined to recover. "I think they've found me, Rio. They'll hurt you if you're with me, it won't matter that you don't know anything."

"It could be anything, but we definitely have an intruder. I need to know you're all right, Rachael. I don't want to come back in here and find you shot yourself by accident. And I don't want you trying to shoot me."

"Go, I'm fine. I'm not having any trouble seeing." And she wasn't. She had never had particularly great night vision, yet she seemed to be able to see much more clearly than before. Or maybe she was just getting used to the dim lighting in the forest. She only had one good hand and it was trembling badly, so she thrust it beneath the covers. Rachael wasn't about to whine about feeling sick to her stomach from the wrenching pain of movement, not when he was going out alone to face an intruder.

He checked the gun, put it on the bed beside her. His palm slipped across her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch. "Stay focused, Rachael."

Rio was reluctant to leave her. Something told him he was replaying an old scene. He had a memory of touching her, her hair sliding through his fingers as he went into the night to hunt for an enemy. And when he returned… Something gripped his heart in a vise. "Rachael, be here when I get back. Stay alive for me." He had no idea why he said it. He had no idea why he felt it, but it was an overwhelming need to warn her. Something terrible had happened, or maybe was about to happen, nothing really made sense to him anymore. There seemed to be memories in his head of Rachael that shouldn't be there.

"Good hunting, Rio. May all the magic of the forest be with you and may fortune be your companion as you travel." The words came out of her mouth, were said in her voice, but Rachael had no real idea where they came from.

She knew instinctively she was reciting formal ritual words, but she didn't know what ritual or how she knew the words, only that she'd said them before.

Rachael wiped a hand over her face in an effort to wipe away things she didn't understand. "I'll be fine. I can handle a gun, I have before. Just be careful."

Rio stared into her eyes for a long moment, afraid to take his gaze from her, afraid when he returned she'd be gone… or he'd find her dead, her body desperately attempting to protect their son-He jerked his head back, a ferocious rage and a terrible sorrow blending together into a roiling ball of emotions impossible to understand. "Stay alive, Rachael," he repeated abruptly. A command. A plea. He forced himself to turn away from her and slip outside.

The change was already taking place in his heart and mind, the dangerous animal in him bursting free, fur rippling along his arms and legs, his body bending, contorting, muscles stretching and lengthening. He embraced the change, his chosen way of life, accepting the power and strength of the leopard in him, allowing it free rein there in the security of his territory. Rio stretched his arms, fingers splayed wide as his knuckles curved and claws scraped the floor of the verandah, then retracted.

The leopard was large. It sat in absolute stillness, head lifted to scent the wind. The many whiskers acted like radar, picking up every detail of the world around him. Ropes of muscle rippled with power and strength as the animal crouched and leapt for a large branch that curved upward and away from the house. The animal moved with the wind, high under cover of the canopy. Once the leopard looked back toward the house, noted the many streamers of creeper vines and the large lacy foliage that shielded the house from prying eyes. In the darkness, it would be nearly impossible to spot unless one knew of its existence.

The forest was alive with information, from the hum of insects and the warning cry of a bird. Rio moved quickly and silently along the wide branches, staying low, claws digging into wood as he climbed, retracting as he padded through foliage, careful not to disturb the leaves. The smaller of the two clouded leopards emerged from the heavy mist, lips drawn back in a snarl. Rio went perfectly still, crouching low, his head lifted to scent the wind.

The intruder was not human. At once the fierce temper of the leopard rose and spread with the violence of a volcano. Rio accepted the rage and ferocity, channeled it deep in the heart of the beast. He moved with greater caution, knowing he was being stalked, knowing one of his own kind had chosen to betray him. His lip lifted in a silent snarl, revealing large canines. Ears flat, the leopard began a slow freeze-frame stalk through the lush vegetation high above the forest floor. The wind carried the scent of his treacherous rival, pinpointing the location only yards from Rio.

Rio crept across a large branch far above the spotted leopard. It was male and large. The animal swung its head alertly, looking suspiciously into the tree where Rio crouched motionless. At once, Franz, concealed some distance away in heavy shrubbery, deliberately stepped on a small twig, snapping it in half. The sound was loud in the silence of the forest.

The spotted leopard stilled, sank down, staring alertly in the direction of the smaller clouded leopard. Rio took the opportunity to move closer, a silent, stealthy approach. Franz had risked his life. The larger leopard would kill him easily should it find the clouded leopard. And the larger, spotted leopard was definitely in hunting mode.

Rio moved like fluid over the tree branch, sprang silently to the branch below him, froze when the spotted leopard lifted its head to scent the wind. Fritz, several hundred yards farther from Franz, let out a low moaning cry that was carried on the wind through the interior of the forest. The spotted leopard crouched low, drawing back its lips, ears flat and tail low, in position for an attack, staring intently toward the sound.

Rio launched himself, springing agilely from above. The spotted leopard twisted at the last moment, sideswiping with a huge claw, raking Rio's side but not entirely avoiding the deadly puncture of canines as Rio went for his throat.

Immediately the forest came alive with the sounds of battle, monkeys shrieking, birds taking to the air, flying fox leaping from tree to tree as the two large cats erupted into teeth and claws, rolling and ripping on the forest floor. Where there had been silence, there was now chaos, animals screaming warnings to one another as the deadly battle raged on. An orangutan, nestled for the night in his bed in the tree branches, threw a handful of leaves in disgust at the two cats as they snarled and fought in a dangerous ballet of sharpened claws and piercing teeth.

The leopards used their weight, contorting in nearly impossible positions, bending spines and whirling around, springing into the air and lunging for throats. The battle was brief, but fierce, the snarling, ferocious roars and grunts reverberating through the trees, straight up the canopy to the ominous rain clouds overhead. The clouds answered, pouring rain down. Although the drops barely made it through the thick canopy, it was enough to quiet the shrieking monkeys and settle the birds back under cover.

The spotted leopard rolled to break Rio's hold, racing away, taking to the branches and moving quickly along the overhead highway to escape. Deliberately the angry cat went toward the last location of the smaller, clouded leopard. Rio gave chase, sending out a warning cough, but the spotted leopard was on Fritz, grabbing for the neck with wicked teeth, shaking the smaller cat viciously. He dropped it onto the ground below and took off just as Rio launched another attack. Claws raked the spotted leopard's hindquarters. His yowl of pain sent the birds skittering again, but he kept going, digging into the branches with his claws to pull away.

Rio dropped quickly to the ground to assess the damage to Fritz. The larger spotted leopard had delivered a grave injury, but left the smaller cat alive. Rio hissed an angry warning. He had to fight his own nature, the need to go after fleeing prey. Fight back the temper smoldering in his gut, red-hot and demanding revenge.

There was no doubt in his mind he had faced one of his own kind, a cunning, intelligent mixture of leopard and man. This one had come to kill him. Rio knew most of his people; there were few left in the forest. Many were scattered in other countries and some chose to live as humans in the cities, but most were known to one another. Rio did not recognize the scent of his stalker, but he recognized the intelligence of the decision not to kill the clouded leopard in a fit of temper. The attack had been cold-blooded and well thought out in the short time available. The spotted leopard knew Rio would never leave the dangerously injured cat to track him. And that told Rio something else. His stalker knew he traveled with the two clouded leopards.

He looked cautiously around, making certain to scent the wind. His cough was a demand to the tree dwellers for information. The cry came from the troupe of monkeys overhead. Rio reached for his human form, allowed the pain to engulf him as ropes of muscle and sinew contorted, contracted and stretched. He crouched beside the clouded leopard, assessing the damage to the animal. The puncture wounds were deep. He clamped his hand over the holes and applied pressure, murmuring reassurances as he did so, ignoring the deep claw marks on his own skin.

"Franz, stay alert," he ordered as he gathered Fritz into his arms. Rio had to keep pressure on the two puncture wounds as he raced through the forest, weaving his way between the trees, leaping over fallen logs, splashing through two small swollen streams, covering the uneven terrain as fast as he could. He was built much like a leopard with muscles meant for carrying large prey. He didn't feel the burden of the clouded leopard, but in his human form, his skin was not nearly as tough as in his animal form and the forest tore up his flesh as he rushed through it.

Rio leapt upon the wide low-hanging branch leading to his home with the ease of long practice and, balancing carefully, made his way along the maze of branches until he gained the verandah. He called out to warn Rachael, hoping she wouldn't shoot him as he shoved open the door with his hip. Fritz, nestled so close to him, turned his head to look up at him in silent fear. The small leopard's sides were heaving, straining for air, too much blood matting his fur.

Rachael gasped, thrusting the gun beneath the pillow. "What happened? What can I do?" Rio's face was a dangerous mask, fierce, warriorlike, his eyes alive with anger. He turned the full power of his unblinking stare on her, assessing her condition. Rachael met his piercing gaze steadily. "Really, Rio, let me help you."

He immediately switched directions, bringing the injured animal to the bed. "Can you sit up all the way by yourself?"

Rachael didn't bother with speech. She simply showed him, making certain to keep her expression serene when her heart was pounding and pain made her sick. She'd had enough practice hiding fear. The cat was badly injured and therefore far more dangerous than in its normal state. Her mouth went dry as he placed the animal in her lap and guided, first one hand, then the other to the puncture wounds. Rachael found herself with a fifty-pound leopard in her lap and her hands pressing into its neck covered in blood.

Rio lit the lamp and brought his surgical supplies to the bed, kneeling down close to the animal's head. "Be still, Fritz," he murmured, "I know it hurts, but we'll get you fixed up." He didn't look at Rachael, but worked on the animal, his hands gentle, steady and very sure.

His head was bent, dark hair spilling around his face. There was sweat and blood on his skin, and he smelled wild and of wet fur. His face could have been carved from stone as he worked to save the cat. "These are deep puncture wounds, much like your leg. I sutured the lacerations on your leg but left the punctures to drain. I'll have to do the same with Fritz. The best I can do is clean the wounds thoroughly, give him antibiotics and hope they don't abscess. If they do, I'll have to put in drains."

As Rio worked on cleansing the puncture site, Fritz opened his mouth, exposing his long, wicked canines, and yowled horribly. Rachael took a deep breath and kept her gaze locked on Rio, on his face rather than on his hands, afraid if she looked at the cat's teeth she would do a little screaming herself.

Franz answered Fritz, pacing anxiously back and forth in agitation. Without warning, he suddenly leapt onto the bed, nearly crushing Rachael's legs. Pain rushed through her body, took her breath and forced a small, strangled cry from her throat. For a moment the room spun, tilted, went black. "Rachael!" Rio's voice was sharp, compelling, calling her back. Rio's arm swept Franz from the bed. "Stay the hell down," he snarled, his voice rumbling with menace.

To Rachael's surprise, her hands were still in Fritz's fur. She applied more pressure as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting him to do that."

"You're doing fine," he said. "Can you go on?"

"If you can, I can," she answered. He looked at her then with his vivid green eyes, something she couldn't quite name swirling in the darker depths. His gaze drifted over her face, almost as if he were drawing strength from just looking at her. He turned his attention back to the cat.

Rachael let out her breath slowly, fighting down the bile rising in her throat from the throbbing pain in her leg. She would do anything to see that look on his face. A sharing. A connection. She listened to the sound of his voice as he talked softly to the cat, reassuring it as he stitched the deep wound. She found herself stroking the fur with her free hand as the animal trembled, but stayed still for Rio's ministrations.

Rachael waited until Rio was working on the second puncture wound. "How did this happen?"

"There was a big, spotted leopard, a male, in the forest. He attacked Fritz. Fortunately he dropped him without crushing the windpipe."

She looked at the deep angry scratches on Rio's body. "You went up against a leopard trying to kill your pet?"

Swift impatience crossed his face. "I told you, Fritz and Franz are not pets. They're my friends, I didn't save Fritz, he was trying to protect me and he put himself in harm's way."

Rachael bent over the animal in her lap, examining the chunk missing from the ear. "So this one is Fritz?"

He nodded as he peered closely at his work. "This puncture wound is not as deep as the other one. I'm going to give him something for the infection. The leopard did this deliberately."

"Why?" She didn't look at him when she asked. Rio had bitten the words out between his strong teeth, almost as if he said them without thought, angry at the leopard for hurting the smaller cat. She sensed that Rio was on the verge of telling her something very important.

Rio glanced at her. "I think he was hunting for one of us. I just am not certain which. At first I thought it was me, but now I'm not so sure."

She heard the thud of her heart and counted the beats. It was a trick she often used when she was in a dangerous situation and wanted to appear calm or when she needed more information and didn't want to react too fast. Something inside her went very still when he turned his direct, piercing gaze on her. There was something there she couldn't quite read. A swirling dangerous mixture of beast and man. Rachael knew cats' eyes contained a layer of reflective tissue behind each retina which allowed them to concentrate all possible light during the darkest nights, or in the darkest forest. Called the tapetum lucidum, the membrane acted like a mirror, allowing the light to bounce back through the retina a second time for maximum ability to see. The membrane also reflected light back in iridescent colors of yellow-green and red, both of which Rachael had observed in Rio and in the clouded leopards.

"Why would a leopard be hunting one or the other of us, Rio?" she prompted. It didn't make sense that the large cat would care which of them he killed and ate.

There was a long silence broken only by the sounds of the moaning wind, the steady fall of rain, Franz pacing back and forth in agitation, Rachael was certain Rio could hear the pounding of her heart.

"I don't think he was a leopard as you know a leopard. I think he was a different species altogether." Rio's voice blended into the night, held secrets and shadows she didn't want to examine.

Rachael didn't voice the protest welling up in her. She was certain Rio wasn't being melodramatic. She didn't think he was capable of drama for drama's sake. "I'm sorry, I'm not certain exactly what you're saying? A new species of leopard here in the rain forest that hasn't been discovered? Or a genetically engineered species?"

"A species that's been around for thousands of years."

She rubbed the clouded leopard's ears. "How are they different?"

He looked at her then, turning the full focus of his strange eyes on her. "They are not animal, yet not human. They're both, yet neither."

Rachael went very still, pulled her gaze from the power of his, her mind racing with possibilities. "A long time ago, when I was a little girl, my mother told me a story about a species of leopards. Well, not leopards, they were a species able to shift into the form of a leopard, or large cat. They had some of the attributes of the leopard, but also attributes of humans and of their own species, sort of a three-way mixture. I've never heard anyone else ever mention them until now. Is that what you mean?"

Few things shocked Rio anymore, but his hands stopped in midair and he stared at her. "How would your mother have heard of the leopard people? Few people, outside the species, know of their existence."

"Do you realize what you're saying, Rio? That there is such a species? I thought it was simply a story my mother liked to tell me at night when we were alone together. She always told me tales of the leopard people when I went to bed." She frowned, trying to remember the old stories from her childhood. "She didn't call them leopard people, there was another name."

Rio stiffened, his brilliant gaze slashing at her face. "What did she call them?"

The name eluded her as hard as she tried to remember. "I was a child, Rio. I was only a young girl when she died and we went to live with…" She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "It doesn't matter. Are you saying there's a possibility that the species exists? And if it does, why would one of them want to harm you? Or me for that matter?"

"I'm on a hit list, Rachael. I've stirred up the bandits a few times, taking back what doesn't belong to them and costing them a lot of money. They don't like it and they want me dead." He shrugged his shoulders and patted the cat, straightening tiredly. "Hold him a couple more minutes while I fix a bed for him."

"And I've made it worse for you by coming here, haven't I?"

"A hit list is a hit list, Rachael. I don't think anything makes it worse, I'm already on it. If they track you to me, we'll move. They aren't going to best me here in the forest. They prefer the river, not the interior. And I have a few people who will help out if needed. I know all the local tribesmen and they know me. I'll hear if they enter the forest." He doused the light, plunging the room back into darkness.

"But not if one of these leopard people is working with them," she guessed, blinking rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting. The moon was trying valiantly to shed light in spite of the clouds and the heavy canopy of foliage, but it was a mere sliver and far away. "And if the species does exist, why haven't they been discovered yet? They'd have to be highly intelligent."

"And cool under fire-cunning, careful. Burn their dead in the hottest fires possible. Find remains of any who died by accident. Ban together to retrieve a body if one is taken by a hunter. The society would have to be a superior one, dependent on one another and highly skilled and secretive."

"Like you." She couldn't get the picture of his face changing, rushing at her with the muzzle and teeth of a fully grown male leopard out of her head.

He returned to the bed, towering over her, his vivid green eyes moving over her face. "Like me," he agreed. Rio bent and scooped up the fifty-pound clouded leopard, cradling it close to his chest.

Rachael's fingers curled in the bedcover. Was it possible? Was it her fevered imagination or was Rio able to shift into the form of a leopard? She looked at him crouched down beside the cat, streaks of blood on his back and sides, down the columns of his thighs, and a tear up near his neck. She didn't care what he was. It didn't matter to her, not when he was petting the injured cat and murmuring soft nonsense to it.

Rachael swallowed the tight knot of fear blocking her throat. "You're bleeding, Rio. Come here to me. How badly are you hurt?"

Rio stood up and turned around to look at her. There was genuine concern in her voice, in the dark depths of her eyes. Her compassion touched him somewhere deep inside, somewhere he wanted to forget existed. She shook his control, and that was more dangerous than she could possibly understand. Rio shrugged his shoulders. "It's no big deal, a few scratches."

Rachael studied him as he padded across the floor on bare feet. There was a slight stiffness to his normal graceful, sinuous walk. The scratches looked deep and ugly and she thought there was more than one puncture wound. "You always take care of everything and everybody before you take care of yourself. You fought that leopard, didn't you? You didn't have a gun with you. I doubt you had a knife. What did you do? Fight it with your bare hands?"

Rio dragged out the medical kit and began dousing the angry looking wounds with burning liquid. Rachael sighed softly, feeling helpless. He looked tired and out of sorts and she knew the gashes had to hurt. He didn't respond to her comments, but she was certain she was right. He had to have been involved in a vicious fight with a cat of some kind without a weapon. And it couldn't have been a small cat. She bit down on her lip to keep her mouth closed, determined not to aggravate him with questions.

He bent to duck his head over the tub he used as a sink and poured water over his hair. He was breathtaking, there in the dark with just the sliver of moonlight falling across him. His hair gleamed liked silken webs. Shadows from the heavy foliage stirred by the wind threw the broad outline of his back and buttocks into sharp relief and then just as quickly covered him from her sight as he washed himself. As he straightened and half turned toward her, his eyes caught the reflection of light from the moon and glowed an eerie red. The eyes of a predator. The eyes of a leopard.

Rachael held her breath and made every effort to keep the wild pounding of her heart under control. It wasn't just his strange eyes that could frighten her; he always carried a dangerous, untamed look about him. She was certain she was right about his eyes being different, more like a cat's. He took a step toward the bed and she could see him more clearly, see the weariness and pain etched into his face. Immediately fear was swept aside in her concern for him.

"Rio, come to bed."

He studied her expression. Soft. Inviting. Temptation. Her mouth was sinful. He had more than his share of fantasies about her mouth. Her lush body, so soft and warm and perfect for his, was an invitation he couldn't ignore much longer. The longer she stayed in his home, the more she belonged there. "Damn it, Rachael, I'm not a saint." His voice was harsh, deliberately challenging. He was so edgy and moody he wanted a fight with her. He wanted to go back into the jungle and sulk far away from her. If his obsession with her continued to grow, he didn't know what he was going to do.

Rachael did the unexpected like she always did. She burst out laughing, the sound carefree, not in the least bit frightened. "You have no worries, Rio, I am not about to mistake you for one."

"Well why the hell are you looking at me like that then? Don't you have any idea how vulnerable you are right now?"

"I think you're the one who's vulnerable, Rio, not me. Come to bed and stop acting so macho. You can put on your he-man face in the morning and I'll do my best to act afraid if that's what you need, but right now, you need sleep. Not sex, sleep.".

"You think I need sleep," he groused, but obediently slid into the bed beside her. She was warm and soft and everything he knew she'd be. Rio wrapped his arms around her, fit his body around hers, snuggling his heavy erection tightly against the cradle of her hips, his head against the soft swell of her breast.

"I know you need sleep. Just lay it down for a while. If you're worried about someone sneaking up on you, I'll watch over you." She could feel the silk of his hair, damp from washing, teasing her nipple. Rachael wrapped her arms around his head, cradled him to her, her fingers woven in the thick mass of hair.

"I should check your leg after that idiot cat jumped on it."

His breath was warm against her breast. She felt desire pierce her like a sword. "Go to sleep, Rio, we can check it in the morning." For the rest of the night, she would pretend he belonged to her. Her own gentle warrior, fresh from battle, a mixture of danger and tenderness she found impossible to resist.