In a sudden fit of temper at herself, or the situation, she flung off the thin cover. "I need to get out of this bed, this room, before I go completely mad."
"Slow down, lady." Rio caught at her, preventing movement. "Just sit still and let me see what I can do." There was a flicker of knowledge in his eyes, as if he could read her mind and knew her selfish thoughts.
Rachael watched Rio stalk outside and disappear from sight. She could hear him making noise on the verandah, unusual when he was usually so silent. The wind helped to dispel the oppressive heat and claustrophobia, but she wanted to cry, stuck in the bed, unable to get across the small distance to the open doorway. The mosquito net fluttered in the breeze. As always, Rio hadn't lit the light; he seemed to be able to see in the dark and preferred it.
The thought triggered a long-forgotten memory. Laughter, soft and contagious, the two of them whispering together in the rain. Rio swinging her into his arms and spinning in a circle while drops fell on her upturned face. Her breath caught in her throat. It never happened. She would know if she had been with him. Rio was not a man a woman would ever forget or want to give up.
"Come on, I'm going to take you outside. It's raining, but the roof over the verandah has no leaks so you can sit in the open for a while. I know what it's like to feel caged. Let me do the work," he said. He slipped his arms under her legs. "Put your arms around my neck."
"I weigh a lot," she cautioned, obediently linking her fingers behind his neck. Joy was blossoming inside her, a deep glowing warmth bubbling over at the prospect of getting out of the bed, and of looking at open sky.
"I think I can manage," he said dryly. "Be prepared when I lift you, it's going to hurt."
It did, so much so that she buried her face against the warmth of his neck, choking off a startled cry. Pain radiated up her leg, hit the pit of her stomach and exploded throughout her body. Her fingernails dug into his skin and she bit down hard on her thumb.
"I'm sorry, Rachael, I know it hurts," he said softly.
He moved smoothly, almost gliding so there was no jarring to her swollen leg. As he stepped through the door, the natural hum of the forest greeted her. Insects and frogs, the chatter of animals, the flutter of wings and the constant sound of the rain all blended together.
Rio had pulled a soft, overstuffed chair outside, his one prized possession. He placed her carefully in it, propping her leg on a pillow on a kitchen chair. Rachael leaned her head back and took in the high feathery canopy through the fine mosquito netting. The entire verandah was enclosed. The railings were made from tree branches, gnarled and polished, blending in with the surrounding trees so that she couldn't tell where the forest began and the railings left off.
Rio sank onto the chair beside her, holding out the glass of cool liquid. "Drink this, Rachael, it might help to cool you down. In another hour or so, I can give you more meds to help bring down your fever."
She was sweating from the pain more than the fever, but she didn't want to tell him that, not after he'd gone to such trouble. The wind was cooler on her face, tugging at the wild curls in her hopeless mass of hair. She ran her fingers through it before taking the glass from him. Her hand was trembling enough that some of the cool liquid splashed over the rim of the glass. "Rio, tell me the truth." She stared carefully out into the tree trunks and limbs heavily laden with wild orchids of every color. "Am I going to lose my leg?" Everything in her was still, waiting for his answer, telling herself she could handle the truth. "I'd much rather know now."
Rio shook his head. "I can't make promises, Rachael, but the swelling is less. Your fever comes and goes instead of raging all the time. There aren't any more streaks going up your leg so I think we've avoided blood poisoning. As soon as we can, I'll get you to a medic and have them take a look at it. The river goes down fairly quickly."
"I can't go to a doctor," she admitted reluctantly. "No one can know I'm still alive. If they find out, I'm dead anyway."
He watched her lips touch the glass, the contents of the glass tilt, her throat work as she swallowed. He stretched his legs out in front of him, sprawling out as if totally relaxed when he was anything but. "Who wants you dead, Rachael?"
"It isn't really pertinent, is it? I had the presence of mind to shed my shoes in the water. They might be found when they look for me. And believe me, they'll look. They'll hire the best trackers they can find."
"Then they'll come looking for me. Tracking is what I do when I'm not rousting bandits."
Rachael swallowed the sudden fear welling up. "Great. It isn't like I can run from you either. They'll offer you a lot of money to turn me over to them." She shrugged, trying to be casual when she wanted to throw herself off the verandah and run. "Or maybe they'll just ask you to kill me for them. Less trouble that way."
His hand settled on her head. "Lucky for you, I'm not particularly interested in getting rich. I don't need a lot of money living here. The fruit's plentiful and I can easily hunt and trade for the things I need." He rubbed strands of her wavy hair between the pads of his fingers. "I think I have a lazy streak." He grinned at her. "Besides, you swing a mean stick. I don't think I want to mess with you."
"When they ask you, are you going to tell them where I am?"
"Why would I do that when I can keep you all to myself?"
Rachael tipped the rest of the juice down her throat. It was cooling and sweet. She rested her head on Rio's shoulder and allowed herself to relax. The night was incredibly beautiful with so many different types of foliage and trees bowing gently in the wind. The rain played a melody in the background, almost soothing now that she was outside with the breeze blowing. She could see movement in the branches as gliders flitted from one tree to another.
"Are you going to let me guess, or are you just going to keep me in suspense? Why would someone be so intent on killing you?"
Chapter Five
"YOU know how to wreck a perfectly good evening, don't you?" Rachael didn't lift her head from the comfort of his shoulder, but stared out into the forest. Shadows moved from canopy to floor. A symphony of music made up of every kind of rustle, croak and insect sound accompanied the wind. "I always thought it would be quiet. The edges of the forest are so active, around the swamps. Fish jumping, and insects always busy, but for some reason I thought when I reached the interior it would be peaceful."
"Think of it as songs of the forest. I've always loved the way the insects and birds sound against the leaves in the wind. It's all music if you love it, Rachael."
"I suppose it is. Why can't people just leave us alone, Rio? Yes, I ran away. Does it really matter so much why I ran? Who I ran away from? What difference does it make all the way out here, in the middle of a forest?"
Rio tried not to hear the wistful note in her voice. More, tried not to react to it. "It's perfectly reasonable of me to want and need to know why someone would want to kill you. Do you have a husband you ran away from? Someone rich and powerful enough to track you even here? Why wouldn't he just let you go?" He felt her beside him, fitting into the lines of his body. Heard her breathing softly. Her skin was hot, but soft and inviting. Even more than the physical temptation was her courage and sense of humor. She was occupying his thoughts, invading his blood. Rio reached over her to pull her broken wrist across her lap, positioning it for maximum comfort. "I guess that was a silly question. I might not have let you go myself."
Rachael lifted her head to look at him. A faint smile curved her mouth. "Rio, that was a nice thing to say to me. Thank you."