“Yes.”
“Well, then,” he asked hoarsely, “won’t you feel cheated if you don’t ever experience that?”
She held her breath for what seemed like an interminable length of time before blurting out, “I haven’t taken any final vows yet.”
He flinched reflexively. “What?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said. What does that mean?” His breath was hot, as hot as the widespread hand branding the skin on her back.
She was sorely tempted to tell him the truth then and there. Seconds after the words were out of her mouth, he would be making love to her. Of that she had no doubt. Swollen and hard, his manhood pressed against her belly. She was dewy and achy with desire for him. What transporting ecstasy it would be to—
But no. Her attention must be focused solely on the nine orphans. Their lives were in her hands. If they were to survive, they needed all the odds in their favor. Neither she nor Linc could be distracted for a single instant.
If they became lovers, that would not only be a distraction, but a complication. When this was all over, when they were safe in the United States, their relationship would be a heartrending dilemma to her and an albatross to him.
Kerry couldn’t give herself to any man lightly, yet that’s the way this man of vast experience would take her. She had no doubt that when Linc had referred to a man who knew how to give a woman pleasure he was speaking of himself. But that’s all it would be to him. Pleasure. Mutual but temporary. Involvement with a man like Linc O’Neal would only open up oceans of regret for her.
She chose her answering words carefully. “It means that I’m still considering what to do with the rest of my life.” It wasn’t a lie. It was a solid truth. She hadn’t planned her future beyond getting the nine children into the United States.
She felt his heavy sigh; it seeped out of him gradually. And with it, his tension. His compliance with her silently expressed wishes made her feel even worse about her deception.
She remained lying in his arms, but there was a tangible difference in the way he held her. Soon, grayish light began filtering through the branches of the vine. Straining their ears, they could hear sounds of morning activity coming from the soldiers’ camp. The smell of coffee and food made them both delirious with hunger. Several times they heard men moving through the jungle, but none came as close as the soldier had the night before. Finally, they picked up the welcome sound of truck engines being pumped to life.
Linc waited about fifteen minutes before he lifted the vine and crawled out. “You stay here.”
Kerry obeyed him. She was actually grateful for the moments of privacy. She pulled on her own shirt, which was still damp, and ran her fingers through her hair. It was a mass of tangles. She was still working her fingers through the knotted strands when the curtain of leaves was lifted.
“It’s all right,” Linc told her. “They’re gone.”
Chapter 6
Kerry sank down onto the bank of the river. She was thoroughly dispirited. Her shoulders sagged with defeat. The toddler, Lisa, seemed to have gained fifty pounds overnight. Kerry couldn’t hold her for another minute without dropping her. She set the child on the ground beside her.
“Now what?”
She got no answer. Several moments ticked by. Even the children were still, as though realizing that they faced a serious problem that might not have a solution. Shading her eyes with her hand, Kerry glanced up at the man standing beside her.
Hands on hips, one knee bent, brows lowered, eyes glowering, mouth frowning, it wasn’t difficult to assess Linc’s mood. Kerry watched his lips form a crude expletive that he didn’t dare speak aloud in front of the children, even though they didn’t understand English.
She diplomatically let a few more moments go by before she tried again. “Linc?” His head snapped around and he glared down at her. “How the hell should I know? I’m a photographer, not an engineer.”
Linc immediately regretted lashing out at her. It wasn’t Kerry’s fault that the heavy rains the night before had caused local flooding and that the wooden bridge he had planned to use to get across the river had been washed out.
It wasn’t even her fault that he was in such a foul mood. She was the reason for it, but she wasn’t to blame. Ever since he had helped her crawl out of the cover where they had passed the night, he’d been ready to take somebody’s head off at the slightest provocation.
“You’d better put these on.” He angrily tossed her her clothes after he’d retrieved them from where he’d hidden them the night before.
She hadn’t taken issue with his brusqueness, but had quickly stepped into her khaki trousers. Unable to tear his eyes away from her long, lovely, fantasy-inspiring legs, Linc had watched every supple movement. His loins had ached with the recollection of her thighs being entwined with his.
Had it really happened? Had he only dreamed that her body perfectly complemented his? Had she curled up against him, actually seeking contact, or had he just wished it so hard that it had seemed real?
Maybe so, because all morning they had fenced with each other. They hardly behaved like two people who had slept together like lovers. They hadn’t even been friendly. She’d been cautious and wary of him; he’d been truculent and quarrelsome.
When they returned to the house and found the children in the kitchen instead of in the cellar, Linc had yelled at Joe. “I thought I told you to stay down there until I came to get you.”
“I heard the soldiers leave,” the boy shot back. “I knew it was safe.”