Deliberately she pulled her hand out of her pack just enough for him to see the handle of her own weapon, before she replaced it and zipped the bag up again. He gave her a long, level look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was truly willing to use it. She returned the look, in spades. If he thought she was exaggerating about knowing how to use a weapon, or about having used it in the past, then he had better think again. The woman who looked back at him wasn’t someone who would shrink from protecting her own life, or the lives of others, and she saw the knowledge flare in his eyes.
A slow grin spread across his face, one that lit his entire expression. All of a sudden the ill temper that had shadowed his eyes for days was gone. For some reason, Jillian didn’t trust that glowing smile. If Ben Lewis looked that happy, then he had just thought of something that she knew she wouldn’t like.
Ben started whistling as he leaped ashore, taking care not to get too close to the machete Dutra was swinging with lethal power. Jillian had just told him a lot more than she thought she had, and it was all he could do to keep from chortling.
But he had some serious problems on his hands that he had to handle right now, and his face turned expressionless as he approached Kates.
“Walk over here with me,” he said, and moved toward the other boat, away from Dutra. Reluctantly Kates followed, and Rick lurched to accompany them.
“Can you handle Dutra?” Ben asked brusquely. “If you can’t, I’m going to leave him at the next settlement. I can’t watch my back and pay attention to everything else, too, and I’ll get damn tired of having to hold a pistol on him to make him work.”
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s paying the way here. Don’t give me that captain-of-the-ship shit again.” Kates lit a cigarette and eyed Ben through the smoke.
“That’s exactly the shit you’re going to get. If you don’t like the way I do things, I’ll bail out at the next settlement, and you can go to hell for all I care.”
“Fine,” Kates snapped. “You do that. Dutra says he’s familiar with the interior and I believe him. We don’t need you.”
Ben snorted. “Then you deserve what you get with him. I hope you enjoy your little outing, because you sure as hell won’t find what you’re looking for.”
“That’s your opinion, and we all know what your opinion’s worth,” Rick put in belligerently.
Neither Ben nor Kates even glanced at him. “Oh, we’ll find it,” Kates said with assurance.
“Not without Jillian.”
That gave Kates pause, and his good-looking face went cold. “What about Jillian?”
“She’ll stay with me. Let’s just say that Dutra hasn’t made a favorable impression on her.”
“And you have?” Rick hooted. “She thinks you’re slime.”
Ben allowed himself a complacent grin. “But good in bed.”
Again Kates gave him a considering look. “You’re bluffing,” he finally said.
“What makes you think so?”
“Jillian wants to find this place more than any of us, so she can clear her old man’s name,” Kates said. “She won’t give up the chance just because you’re screwing her.”
Rick frowned. “My sister? Gotta be kidding. Jillian’s probably queer. She hangs around with a bunch of weirdos. Know what I mean?”
Sherwood was beginning to get on Ben’s nerves, but he continued to ignore him. “Not just because of that, no,” Ben agreed. “But take a good look at Dutra; if you were a woman, would you want to go anywhere with him in charge? Why the hell do you think I insisted that Jillian be on my boat? She flatly refused to get on the same boat with Dutra.”
He was bluffing, of course. He’d already learned enough about Jillian to know that “stubborn” was her middle name. She had her mind set on finding this lost city, and God help anyone who got in her way. But he figured that both Kates and her brother underestimated her. Now, having been on the receiving end of her temper, and having seen the look of calm determination in her eyes when she showed him the pistol, he had an entirely different picture of the woman. It suited him, though, for the others to underestimate her.
He shrugged negligently. “Ask her, if you don’t believe me.”
Rick turned to obey. “Hey, Jillian!” he yelled. “Is Lewis really—”
Ben divined what the idiot was about to say a split second before the words came out, and that was exactly how long it took his fist to connect with Sherwood’s gut. Rick’s breath left him in a big whoosh, and he doubled up, clutching his belly. He coughed and began vomiting. Ben immediately stepped back, as did Kates.
When the spasm had ended, Ben knotted his hand in Rick’s shirt and hauled him up on his toes. “Get sober,” he advised in a voice that was devoid of his usual I-don’t-give-a-damn tone. “And stay sober. Because if you say anything to Jillian that I don’t like, I’m going to stomp your ass into the mud, whether you’re in any condition to fight back or not. Is that clear?”
Rick tried to shove Ben’s hand away, but Ben just twisted the fabric tighter. “I said, is that clear?” he barked.
“Yeah,” Rick finally panted. “Uh—yeah.”
“You’d better remember it.” Ben released him with a little shove and turned slitted eyes to Kates. “Well, what’s your decision?”
Kates didn’t like it—in fact, he hadn’t liked anything about this damn expedition since the minute the boats left the dock in Manaus—but what he saw in Lewis’s narrowed eyes made him back down. He would cut the big-shot guide down to size, he swore to himself, as soon as they found the jewel and didn’t need him or Jillian Sherwood any longer. He’d see how good Lewis grinned at him with an extra mouth sliced into his throat. But first maybe he’d let him watch while Dutra had fun with the broad.
“All right,” he muttered. “I’ll talk to Dutra.”
“You’d better do more than just talk. If he even looks at me cross-eyed, he’s out.” Ben walked back to the first boat, aware of Jillian’s sharply curious gaze on him. He was grateful that she had remained where she was, rather than coming ashore to see what the altercation was about. Probably she had done so in order to keep watch on Dutra. The idea of her guarding his back gave Ben a warm feeling.
Rick and Kates watched him go, both wearing expressions of anger and hatred in varying degrees.
“Son of a bitch,” Rick said, wiping his mouth. “I’ll kill him.”
Kates gave him a furious look. Rick Sherwood was ineffectual, strictly small-time, though he swaggered and tried to pass himself off as a real hard-ass. His whining was getting on Kates’s nerves; getting rid of him would be a pleasure, but for right now he had to endure the aggravation. “You’re too drunk to kill a goddamn bug. He’s right. Why the hell don’t you sober up? You’re no good to me like this.”
“This stupid river is boring,” Rick said, voice and expression turning sullen. “Nothing to do all day but just sit and watch the trees go by.”
“Even Dutra is staying sober. Maybe we should leave you behind.”
Still seething at how he had been outmaneuvered, Kates went over to where Dutra was swinging the machete with murderous power.
“I want to talk to you,” he said, jerking his head to indicate they should step out of hearing, for all of the Brazilians spoke some English and he didn’t want any eavesdroppers.
Dutra halted the swing of the machete and walked a few paces away. There was a chilling gleam in his eyes, an expression at once empty and savage. It even gave Kates an uneasy feeling. “I will kill him tonight,” Dutra said, hefting the machete. His upper lip curled, showing his incisors. “With one swing, his head will bounce across the bottom of the boat.”
“Not yet, damn it,” Kates said. “The woman won’t cooperate without the bastard, and we have to have her. Just play along until we find the jewel. Then you can do whatever you want with both of them.”
“I can make her cooperate,” Dutra replied, his small eyes swinging to the trim figure aboard the first boat.
/>
Kates was getting tired of having to deal with stupid people. “Just do what I tell you,” he snapped, and walked away. Dutra’s chilling gaze settled on his back, and the thick lips twisted into a feral smile.
“What was that about?” Jillian asked Ben quietly.
“We got a few things settled.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, who’s running things.”
“Is that why you punched Rick? What was he about to say?”
Ben looked at her and was caught by her shrewd, level eyes. He could lie to her, but she’d know it. “He was going to ask you if it’s true we’ve been . . . uh, having sex.”
From the way her mouth quirked, he knew that she’d noticed the way he’d modified his phrasing at the last second. “What gave him that idea?”
“I told them we were,” he said casually.
Instead of blowing up as he’d expected, she turned to watch the men working. “Any reason for that, or was it just the usual male bragging?”
“They were thinking about leaving me behind. I told them you wouldn’t go on without me.”
“Smart. But it won’t get you inside my tent.”
“It’ll have to, at least occasionally. What we do in there is our business.”
Again she gave him that look that pinned him to the wall. “You think you’ve outmaneuvered me, don’t you? I can always stage an argument as an excuse to kick you out.”
He put his hand over his heart. “You’d endanger me like that?”
“You’re a big boy; from what I’ve seen, you can hold your own.”
“Just remember,” he said with a grin, “you’re choosing between me and Dutra.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she advised. “I’d choose a slug over Dutra.”
The men had finished hacking out a clearing large enough so that they could sit comfortably and enjoy a measure of security. Within a month after they’d gone their way, the undergrowth would have taken over again and erased any sign of their having been there, but for now the vegetation was held at bay. Pepe swung aboard to begin unloading the alcohol stove, the lanterns, and the supplies for supper.
Jillian moved to help him, startling the lean little Indian, who ducked his head and shyly muttered his thanks in Portuguese, the first words in that language she’d heard him speak.
Ben was well satisfied with the day. He had backed Dutra down and gotten some control over the situation, at least until they found the lost city—if they found it. Kates was a smart man; he would keep his hired killer on a leash as long as he thought he still needed Ben and Jillian.
But more than that, he’d gotten his answer about Jillian. She was cool, all right, with that air of being indifferent, but a woman who was unaffected by a man wouldn’t have been willing to pull a weapon and shoot somebody in his defense. A cold, passionless woman wouldn’t have had the guts or the fire. She was a sham, hiding all that heat behind that cool act, but he had her number now. He’d known it from the time she swung at him with her purse, or at least his body had, but he’d let his mind fall for the charade. Hell, his body had known from the first time he’d met her.
Good old chemistry was a mighty funny thing. Whoever would have thought he’d have the hots for a too-slim, stubborn woman? A woman who seemed to see straight through even his best lines?
But she’d been willing to shoot Dutra to protect him. Something like that warmed a man’s heart.
The meal ashore went smoothly, partly because everyone was glad of any excuse to get off the boats and partly because whatever Kates said to Dutra evidently had worked. After the meal was finished they lingered, reluctant to go aboard again. Jillian produced several decks of playing cards, which the men received with appreciation. She declined to join any of the games and sat a little apart from them, content to watch the fire. Ben decided not to play either and moved over beside her.
“Good idea. I didn’t know you had the cards. Why haven’t you brought them out before?”
“If I had, everyone would already be tired of playing. Now it will keep them occupied for several days.”
“So you’re a psychologist, too.”
“Just common sense. I’ve been on digs before, so I know how boredom works.”
“Aren’t you bored, too?”
The firelight flickered on her face, revealing the little smile that barely moved her lips. “A little, but not as much as they are. I like this kind of life. Eventually I’d have to have some books, but I don’t need television or telephones, things like that.”
“Why didn’t you bring a few books?”
She looked incredulous. “Give me a break. I’ll be carrying enough weight in my pack as it is. I have two cameras, a supply of film, a tape recorder and microcassettes, extra batteries, a blank notebook, and waterproof pens.”
“Don’t forget your other little item,” he said blandly, meaning the pistol.
“I won’t, don’t worry.”
“Why two cameras?”
“In case something happens to one. In my experience, something usually does.”
“So what else do you have in your personal stuff?”
This time her smile was bigger. “A whisk broom and a trowel.”
“A what?”
“You heard me.”
“What in hell do you need a broom for?”
“Those are standard tools for an archaeologist. What did you think we used, shovels?”
“Well, when I think of ’dig,’ I sure don’t automatically think of a whisk broom. Guess it takes a while to uncover anything at that rate.”
“It can,” she agreed. “But that way we do the least possible damage to the find. When everything lost is irreplaceable, you learn to be cautious. We won’t be doing any actual excavating, anyway. I just want to find the place.”
Her eyes were shining with enthusiasm for her work, though he didn’t see how she could get so excited over old bones and buildings. Gold and jewels, now that was different.
“There’s been a major new find in east Africa,” she said. “At Ouosalla. It looks like an entire village, thousands of years old. I’d have given anything to be included on that team, but I was turned down. Wasn’t even considered, really. So much is going to be learned about how people lived back then, and there’s nothing like helping to put the pieces together.”
“Why weren’t you considered?” he asked. “Because of your father?”
“Yes.” Her eyes lost their sparkle and she watched the fire a little longer. He almost regretted bringing up the subject, because he had reminded her of why they were there. A few minutes later she excused herself and went back aboard the boat.
8
For the first time since they had started out, it rained at night. Ben had been expecting it, as night storms weren’t unusual. What was unusual was that the rainstorms, because of their timing and position, had thus far missed them at night, allowing them to sleep on deck.
Ben swung out of his hammock as the first cool wind hit him, and to his left Pepe was already on his feet. Ben shook Jillian awake. “It’s going to rain,” he said. “Get under the top.”
The men unrolled the tarps and fastened them down, then turned a lantern on low to relieve the darkness. Sleepily they made themselves as comfortable as possible on the boxes of supplies; Jorge and Vicente almost immediately dozed off, snoring their unconcern over the weather. Floriano yawned and nodded off, woke with a jerk at a clap of thunder, then dozed again.
The rain began its loud drumming on the metal top. Jillian hugged herself into a knot to conserve body heat, and tried to curl up on the boxes. A sharp edge dug into her side, keeping her awake. Fretfully she sat up and shoved cartons around to arrange a better nest.
“Here.” Ben moved over next to her and pulled her against his side, fitting her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “Better?”
“Mmm.” His body heat was wonderful, liking pulling a blanket around her. She closed her eyes and began to sink
into sleep.
“How ’bout this?” he whispered, but she could hear the smugness in his voice. It brought her eyes open. “I knew you’d be sleeping with me sooner or later.”
Without a word she moved away and pulled a couple of extra shirts out of her pack. One she rolled into a ball and used for a pillow, the other she used to cover her bare arms. Before she went to sleep she had the regretful thought that she wished he had kept his mouth shut, because he was much warmer than her thin shirt.
Ben watched her curl up with her back to him, and he wished he’d had the sense to keep his mouth shut. She’d have been sleeping peacefully in his arms if he had. He might not have slept, but he’d’ve enjoyed the hell out of being awake. Now he was still awake, but there was nothing about it to enjoy.
Pepe turned the lantern off. The rain continued, the darkness lit only by the flashes of lightning as the storm moved on, the rumble of thunder gradually becoming fainter. A few minutes later Ben noticed that the rumble was growing louder again, as if another storm was blowing up. But the night air was calm.
“Pepe,” he said quietly.
“I hear,” the Indian replied.
“Wake the others.”
Pepe moved silently about in the darkness, shaking the Brazilians awake. Ben did the same to Jillian. He put his mouth close to her ear. “We have unexpected company. Try not to make any noise. Just get down on the floor and stay there.”
“Smugglers?” she whispered.
“Maybe.”
He made certain she was in a sheltered position and then, going only by his sense of touch, fetched his shotgun. Around him in the darkness he could hear the faint clicks as the others found their weapons and readied them. He didn’t dare use the radio to alert the second boat; the noise could have cost them the advantage of surprise. He only hoped that Eulogio, the Tukano who was piloting the other boat, had heard the engines and roused the men.
The approaching boat might not be smugglers. It might be pirates. It might even be some totally innocent people, caught out late on the river and looking for a safe place to tie up for the rest of the night. He didn’t think the last scenario was likely, but just to be on the safe side he whispered for the others to hold their fire until they knew for certain, but to be ready.