“Getting a little old to be slipping off a perfectly wide branch, aren’t you?” Rio countered, but he was clearly listening for something outside the house.
114 Christine Feehan
With the door open, Rachael could easily hear the sudden change in the rhythm of the forest. Where there had been warning shrieks and calls and cries, now the forest once more vibrated with its natural sounds. The barking of deer, the croaking of frogs, the humming and twittering of insects and cicadas. There was always the continual call of birds, different notes, different songs, but all in harmony with the flutter of the wind and muffled and continual patter of rain.
Franz stood up and – stretched, flattened his ears and hissed, facing toward the door. Rio coughed again, the sound slightly different. “Tama, toss a pair of pants to Drake. He doesn’t need to come in and scare the hell out of Miss Wilson.”
“Stop calling me that,” Rachael snapped. “And why didn’t Drake, whoever he is, wear clothes?”
“He didn’t know he’d be in the company of a woman,” Rio answered, as if that somehow cleared up the question. Drake Donovan was tall and blond and swaggered in, dressed in a pair of Rio’s pants and nothing else but a grin. His chest was heavily muscled, his arms thick and roped and powerful, built much like Rio. His grin widened when he saw Rachael. “No wonder you weren’t answering your radio, Rio. Introduce us.”
Rachael was suddenly conscious of her appearance, her uncombed unruly mop of hair and no makeup, with the four men staring at her. She lifted one hand to tidy her hair. Rio caught her wrist and pulled her hand to his hip. “You look fine, Rachael.” His voice was gruff. He glared at Drake as if he had accused Rachael of looking bad.
“Hey,” Drake spread his hands out in front of him with innocence. “I think she looks great. Especially for a dead woman. Kim thought you might have drowned in the river, but I see you were rescued by our resident jungle man.”
“Quit trying to be charming,” Rio said. “It doesn’t suit you.”
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Rachael smiled at the blond. “I think it suits you very well.”
Rio pressed her hand tightly against his hip, as if he were holding her to him. “What happened, Kim?”
“We were taken prisoner by Tomas Vien and bis people. They were not after the medical supplies or even the ransom as we first thought.” Kim looked at Rachael. “They were looking for Miss Wilson. They had pictures of her.”
When Rachael stirred, Rio squeezed her hand, signaling her to stay silent. “How is it you managed to get away from them?”
Drake looked at Rio sharply, his strange eyes narrowing, but he said nothing.
Kim glanced at his brother. “I didn’t make the meeting with my father. It was for a special ceremony my family knew I wouldn’t miss unless something happened.”
Tama nodded. “My father was very worried. There had been talk all up and down the river about the bandits and how they were looking for someone and if anyone harbored her they would be killed. Our people were warned. When Kim didn’t return, my father sent me looking for him. I sent out a call and Drake was close, so he came along to help me track Kim.”
“I called you on the radio.” Drake picked up the story. “I knew you’d want to know Kim was missing and help us track him, but you didn’t answer, so I was worried about you. Obviously unnecessarily”
“My radio is out of commission,” Rio said tersely. “It took a bullet.”
“Fritz is injured.” Drake moved toward the small cat, but Franz paced back and forth in front of the wounded leopard and showed his saber-like teeth in warning.
Drake made a face at the clouded leopard but moved away from the agitated cat. “So you ran into trouble.”
Rio shrugged. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. You helped Tama pull Kim out of the bandit’s camp?” He glanced toward the snarling cat. “Franz, settle down or go outside.”
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Franz hissed in warning but curled up around Fritz, eyes staring at the intruders.