“No.” It was far too dangerous a topic of conversation, and she was shocked at herself for starting it.
“Good.” He rose, picking up the lantern, pausing long enough to blow out the candles that had illuminated his cooking. He looked . . . to use his mocking word, he looked gorgeous in the light of the flames. Tall and lithe and dangerous, with his long shaggy hair and beard-roughened face, his wolf’s eyes watching her with steady intensity. She doubted the light was as kind to her, but she told herself she didn’t mind. Ryder had a lot more experience than she did, and he was hardly likely to be swept away by the atmosphere.
She followed him down the darkened hallways, struggling to keep up with his long stride. The last thing she wanted was to give him the excuse to carry her again, but with her bare feet on the dirty wooden floors, she couldn’t keep from thinking what else might be around to terrorize her. He headed past her room into his, and she noticed with relief that he’d hacked away the intruding greenery and thrown it out the window, closing it so that the louvers let in the cooler night air, and she hoped little else. He’d brought a second cot in, but the room was so tiny there was no place to put it but immediately next to the first one, which didn’t silence her fears.
“You take the inside wall,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I need to be the first line of defense if anyone figures out where we are and decides to come for a visit, okay?”
She couldn’t really argue with that. “What if they come in the window?”
“Then we’re both screwed. Don’t worry—it’s highly unlikely that anyone will find us in one night. I just like to be thorough.”
“Okay,” she said in a small voice.
There were sheets on her bed, but not on his, and she wondered where he found them. She didn’t bother to ask, climbing over his bed to reach hers. Pulling the top sheet up to her ears, she closed her eyes, but she could still feel him watching her. A moment later he’d turned out the lantern, and she heard the bed creak as he sat down on it, close enough that she could reach out and touch him. The idea was unnerving, though not nearly as bad as spending last night in his arms. That had been catastrophic.
“Stop thinking and go to sleep,” he said in a low voice, the sound dancing along the cool night air. “I told you, you’re safe.”
And that, she thought, was the problem. Some small, stupid part of her didn’t want to be safe. Some idiot part of her brain wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her against his warm, supple skin. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to lie beneath him, with him all around her, pressing her down into the mattress . . .
Her eyes flew open. Now wasn’t the time for erotic dreams or romantic imaginings. Now was the time for common sense and a good night’s sleep, no matter how she felt about the man lying next to her. He was her guardian, her protector, not her lover.
She needed to remember that.
Chapter Eighteen
Her screams ripped Ryder from sleep. He didn’t hesitate, moving so fast she wouldn’t know what hit her, covering her flailing body with his, putting his hand over her mouth to silence her. She was still half asleep, and her panic was fierce as she fought his restraining body. She bit his hand, hard, but he didn’t pull away. There was no telling exactly where La Luz was, but he was willing to bet it wasn’t far, and he’d slept so lightly it could barely be called sleep, listening for any untoward noise: something moving through the underbrush, the crackle of leaves underfoot, the silence of the ever-present jungle birds. There’d been nothing, but he wasn’t convinced, and Parker screaming her head off could alert an otherwise ignorant group of soldiers.
He was reasonably sure of one thing—the so-called rebels weren’t far from the village of Talaca. He was counting on it; the only way they were going to regain possession of that fucking smartphone was through La Luz. Tomás had confirmed that they definitely had it, and Soledad as well, though he couldn’t be sure whether Soledad was a hostage or complicit in the crimes of La Luz. It didn’t matter—Soledad could do what she wanted, as long as he got that smartphone back before anyone else could put its information to use.
And he didn’t need Parker screaming her bloody head off, alerting everyone to their presence. He needed the upper hand in their negotiations, and that didn’t include them coming in while Parker was having a nightmare.
“Cut it out, Parker,” he whispered in her ear. “You want everyone to know where we are?”
His words must have penetrated her foggy brain. She stopped flailing immediately, lying beneath him still as a stone. “You okay?” he breathed in her ear, not moving his hand from her mouth. “Nod if the answer is yes.”
She managed a brief nod beneath his hard hand, and he slowly removed it. She’d bitten hard, but there was no blood, for which he supposed he should be grateful. In fact, the bite had turned him on, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She was already too skittish.
He levered himself away from her, moving next to the wall, his hands still on her, getting her used to the feel of him.
“Not this again,” she managed a semi-caustic tone, and he smiled in the dark. She was a tough one, all right.
“Just shut up and go back to sleep. I’ll keep the monsters away.” Unless I’m one of the monsters you dream about, he thought, wondering why it bothered him. He did what he had to do and wasted no time with guilt or second thoughts.
“And who protects me from you?” she said in a quiet voice.
“Yes, who’s going to protect the poor, innocent little girl who lied, covered up for an international trafficking cartel, protected a felon responsible for the worst kind of crime against humanity? How capricious and cruel of fate to have put you in my hands, where I’ve done my best to feed you to snakes.”
“Shut up,” she said fiercely.
“Oh, gladly. Why don’t you tell me what a conscienceless bastard I am? How cruel and heartless and unjustified my actions are? In fact, why don’t you take the jeep and drive back to Puerto Claro? I’m sure you can find a plane to take you back to the States. It would make my life easier and less annoying if I didn’t have to babysit you. Just draw me a picture of the phone, and I’ll see you on your way.”
“I don’t remember. I’ll know it when I see it.”
“I expect you will. The question is, will you tell me about it, or just make a play for it yourself? Because if you do I’d be annoyed. Very annoyed, and you don’t want to see me when I’m pissed off.”