* * *

  Since they’d left the capital city two days earlier, Allison had been avoiding him. The closer they got to Pucalli, the quieter she became , spending most of the trip at the boat rail staring at the jungle. Reilly smiled to himself as he watched her making her way along the swaying deck. The sight of her had every one of his muscles tensing with masculine appreciation. She put pole dancers to shame just trying to keep her balance. He knew by her determined movements forward that she was heading for him. He also knew it by the way she was flaring her nostrils. When she plastered that economy smile on her face, he leaned his elbow on the cargo tarp and waited. Whatever she had to talk about was going to be a pain-in-the-butt subject. But at least she was going to talk.

  "Hi," she said too cheerfully, immediately confirming his suspicion.

  "‘Morning."

  Glancing at the caged monkey next to his shoulder, she asked, "What was the name of the last place we stopped?"

  "That was Oca Oca in Paradise Province. This river is the border between Paradise and Oriente. We’ll be getting off in Oriente at Pucalli to make arrangements for Chico to meet his father. Then you and I will take a ferry across the river to Paradise." His gaze wandered to her blouse. This was going to be one hell of a trip. He cleared his throat. "Did you sleep okay last night?" Did you sleep in that lace bra showing so nicely through your blouse?

  "Yes, I did."

  Bummer. I would have happily taken it off you… slowly… with my teeth. He smiled. Maybe he was lousy at flaring his nostrils, but he had other talents. Such as locking his gaze to hers and not letting go until she began to sweat. The problem with that was he ended up sweating too. He turned to slip a piece of fruit through the wire cage by his shoulder. "Where’s Chico?"

  "Last time I saw him, he was steering the boat," she said, keeping an eye on the tiny arm reaching through the cage. "Tell me again why you made a trip back to the Paradise Hotel for Puddin’ Head."

  She hadn’t left her chair on the sunning deck to inquire after the monkey, but he’d play along. Hell, he’d do anything to keep her near. Then again, he had all he could do not to pull her into his arms, sniff her hair and taste her all over.

  "Puddin’ Head’s starting to prefer people over his own kind. I decided to take him to new territory after he almost scratched your, uh…" Reilly pointed to her breasts, remembering the enticing sensations when he’d delved down between them to search for the fig. His palm was itching to curve around one again. They were perfectly shaped, firm but giving and smooth as warm silk.

  "You were going to say ‘breasts,’" she said, rimming the underside of her watch with a fingertip. Frowning with the last remnants of indecision, she ran her tongue along the edges of her teeth before she spoke. "Reilly, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Before we start our trek into the jungle, I think that I should tell you I have no intention of being intimate with you."

  "Okay."

  "So if you have any plans to—"

  "I don’t."

  "I mean, it’s better to settle—"

  "It’s settled."

  She opened her mouth to speak again, then closed it with a quick nod. Turning on her heel, she started back up the deck. He knew he could have suggested she try flexing her knees for better balance, but once she started that marvelous bump and grind he decided against it. "Al?"

  Grabbing the rail, Allison twisted around to face him. Before she could answer, a whistle rudely blasted their arrival into Pucalli. "It’s Allison."

  "Allison." He tipped his hat and smiled. "I wasn’t going to say ‘breasts.’ I was going to say ‘boobs.’"

  "I’m surprised you didn’t," she said with more bravado than she felt. The boat shuddered to a stop, dropping her center of gravity against the bulkhead. Brushing bits of rust from her shorts, she found her backpack and headed for the gangplank.

  His crudeness had actually helped to clear her mind. Until that moment she had agonized over her attraction to him and what their time together could lead to. Plagued with visions of a neatly groomed, impeccably mannered, and irresistibly desirable Reilly guiding her through a tropical paradise, she was afraid she was already seduced. And now this. "Boobs." She shook her head, not caring that several people were staring at her as she muttered the word again.

 
Susan Connell's Novels