MacKenzie's Woman Read online

  “So soon?”

  “It’s not exactly my choice either, Kate. But if we’re in that canyon when the rains hit, we could be in a major world of hurt.”

  She remembered the rapids she’d survived yesterday, just before arriving at the village. Recalled all too well how she’d been positive she was going to die. The idea of being locked into the towering canyon with so much wild churning water was definitely unappealing.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, hating the frustration she saw in his eyes.

  “Yeah.” He slammed the cap back onto his head. “Me, too.”

  Since he didn’t seem to be inclined toward conversation, K.J. spent most of the way back to Santa Clara immersed in Rafael’s book. The legends fascinated her, especially one about a tribe of giant gods who could make the earth tremble, and a regional mermaid myth concerning pink river dolphins, distant relatives of the Amazonian Indians, who stole women away from the tribe and impregnated them. Although she had no desire to pass judgment, she couldn’t help thinking that some women could find this a rather handy excuse.

  The clouds grew darker, lower, more threatening by the minute. Although she realized that she trusted Alec implicitly to get her back to camp safely, K.J. was relieved when they were back on the broader river, where they’d have a much better chance of riding out any storm.

  “These myths are fascinating,” she said, when she sensed Alec beginning to relax. Although she knew he was still disappointed, the tenseness that had hung over them like the moist jungle air had lessened.

  “Rafael thought it important to get them down in writing, before the elders all died off, taking the stories with them,” Alec revealed.

  “I’m glad. So many people don’t think to do that in time.”

  She wished she knew more about her own roots, her own family stories. But her parents had died before they’d passed on all that many stories, and her grandmother’s accounts had always been more morality tale than Campbell family lore, carefully chosen to convince her young charge to toe the straight and narrow.

  “They’ve got me looking forward to the festival.”

  “Don’t expect it to be all that authentic,” he warned.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s mostly an extravaganza Rafael made up.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because the actual ceremonies didn’t prove to be what people wanted. They weren’t flashy enough. If tourists are going to come all the way here, they want their fantasies confirmed. They want something out of Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar. They want savages and sacrifice and lots of sex.”

  “Oh.” Once again they were back to that sex thing. “That’s sad.”

  Alec shrugged. “Not really. The fake ceremony makes a lot of money, the members of the tribe all know it’s a performance, and in a way, it keeps the true rites pure because the locals don’t have to risk contaminating their magic by doing it in front of outsiders.”

  K.J. thought about that and decided, not for the first time, that this was definitely the strangest, most complex place she’d ever been. And considering some of the locations she’d visited with her parents those first nine years of her life, that was really saying something.

  12

  THE RAIN CAME as Alec had predicted, early and hard. At first Kate wanted to do as he instructed—stay belowdecks out of the weather. But though she trusted his ability to steer the boat through any trouble, she found being unable to see anything too unnerving. Having already found a rubberized poncho in a trunk, she put it on, and holding onto the railing, climbed back on deck.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alec yelled over the roar of the wind and thunder.

  He was wearing an identical poncho. As the boat rocked viciously from side to side, Kate didn’t want to think about the fact that their schoolbus yellow color was undoubtedly not a fashion statement, but a way to make it easier to find them—or, more likely, their bodies—if they were washed into the roiling water.

  “It’s such a lovely day, I thought I’d take a little stroll around the deck.”

  His eyes narrowed. Then his lips quirked and he shook his head. “Absolutely crazy,” he muttered. “At least stay beneath the awning. I don’t suppose you happen to know how to tie a bowline knot?”

  “Actually, I do. My grandmother summered in Newport. Naturally, I learned how to sail.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she realized how snobby that might sound.

  But if he was offended, Alec didn’t show it. “Good. Then tie that rope around your waist.”

  “Aye, Captain.” She snapped a brisk salute that only earned another shake of his head before he turned all his attention back to the river.

  - Earlier, the Amazon had been smooth—not glassy, since it carried too much mud and silt for that—but smooth as a mug of hot chocolate. Now it was a racing tide of boiling white water, swirling mist that rose over them like smoke. More than once they dropped into a trough, causing a good two-thirds of the boat to sink beneath the waterline.

  Just when K.J. was certain that they were going to capsize, Alec would steer them out of the swirling vortex and they’d bob back to the surface like a cork.

  There were times when it seemed as if the entire river was pouring down on them. Enormous uprooted trees rushed toward the boat, half-hidden in the current, but somehow Alec managed to dodge them like bullets. Or, she thought, an enemy’s arrows. Once again she had absolutely no trouble seeing him on a wide green battlefield, waging war to the wail of bagpipes.

  He was amazingly skillful, but it took more than skill to keep them from sweeping into the maelstrom. More than courage. It took an amazing amount of patience. More than she would have thought any one man could possess.

  She tried not to shudder at the sight of an anaconda draped around a tree, and failed. Okay, she decided, it took one heck of a lot courage, too. Which Alec appeared to have in spades.

  Then, as if someone had turned off a shower faucet, the pelting rain stopped as abruptly as it had begun. A moment later, the boat surged beyond the rapids, dropping back into the wide, surprisingly calm, lazy red-brown river.

  “I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life before!”

  Sometime during the wild ride, the wind had whipped the canvas awning from two of the corner fasteners, providing scant protection against the rain that had been falling on them like water being poured from a boot. The hood of the poncho had fallen back onto her shoulders, allowing her head to get drenched. But K.J. wasn’t worried about that. Not when she felt so intensely alive.

  “It was even better than the Matterhorn and Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride put together.” Her sixth-grade class had taken a spring break trip to Disney World, and although her grandmother had nearly refused to let her go, fortunately, her teacher’s arguments had prevailed.

  “Who would have guessed it?” With things now safely under control, Alec came back to untie the rope that had kept her safely on deck. “Katherine Jeanne Campbell Mackenzie, adrenaline junky.” He smiled at her unbridled enthusiasm.

  K.J. smiled back. Then managed, just barely, to stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck.

  “I guess I’ll have to take up hang gliding. Or rock climbing.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed. “Since you’ve already done the white-water rafting.”

  “You were absolutely terrific, Alec.”

  Her hair was a wild, wet tangle that framed her face like drooping seaweed. Although yesterday’s lobster red sunburn had cooled down to a lighter pink color, her nose had begun to peel. If she’d put lipstick on this morning, she’d chewed it off, leaving her lips unpainted and delectably kissable. But gazing down at the lingering excitement and pleasure in her eyes, Alec decided that he’d never seen her look more lovely.

  Because the adrenaline was still pumping through his own veins and because he could no longer be this close without touching her, he cupped her cheek in his palm
and skimmed the pad of his thumb against the corner of her smiling lips.

  “You were pretty terrific yourself. Most women—hell, most people—would have been screaming their heads off.”

  “I think I did,” she admitted.

  “Only when we took that one deep nosedive. But I didn’t really hear you over my own shouting.”

  They shared a laugh over the near-death experience that was now safely behind them. Then K.J.’s eyes turned solemn. “I trusted you.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, savoring those three words. They weren’t quite the ones he’d wanted to hear, but they were close enough. For now.

  “I’d better get back to work.”

  When her answer stuck in her emotion-clogged throat, K.J. merely nodded.

  He touched her again, just a hand to her wet hair, which she was certain must look like a rusty Brillo pad. Then he turned away to resume steering the boat back to the village.

  K.J. retrieved her book from her waistband, where she’d stuffed it in an attempt to keep it dry. Fortunately, for the most part she’d succeeded, although a few of the pages were a bit water swollen.

  She knew the book would forever be a souvenir—and a reminder—of this amazing day. Not that she’d need a physical reminder. The memory of Alec steering the small boat safely through those treacherous rapids would stay with her forever.

  She tried to read, but was still jazzed enough that she couldn’t concentrate. So she stood back up and leaned against the railing, watching the lush green jungle slip by.

  “Are those what I think they are?” she asked, pointing at the brown things floating in the water near the bank. Things that appeared a bit too pebbly for logs.

  He nodded. “Caiman.”

  “Terrific.” She backed a step away.

  “You don’t have to worry—they’re not like piranhas or anacondas,” he assured her. “According to the locals, they only take small pieces out of you.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” she said dryly.

  His grin was quick and devilish. “Unfortunately, they’re usually the wrong pieces.”

  She tried not to smile, and failed.

  K.J. was surprised at how comfortable she felt with Alec during the rest of the trip home. Then later, when they returned to the village and he stayed in the hut to pore over his charts and maps while she took advantage of the shower, she felt just as at ease.

  He was working at the computer when she succumbed to the lure of the hammock and settled down for another nap. He was still there when she awoke an hour later.

  “I can’t believe this.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I’ve never been this lazy.”

  “You’re not lazy. It just takes awhile to get acclimated to the heat and humidity.”

  “I suppose so. How long did it take you?”

  “A week. Ten days.”

  “That long,” she murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  Another of those now-familiar silences settled over them. What they both left unstated was the fact that she wouldn’t be staying here in Santa Clara long enough to get acclimatized.

  “Well,” he said, pushing up from the makeshift desk, “it’s not that long until the festival starts. I guess I should leave you alone to change into your party dress.”

  “What makes you think I even brought a dress?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “But only because my tour book suggested that it might be cooler.” No way was she going to admit that she’d bought it just in case she needed a little extra ammunition to convince Alec to see things her way.

  “It just might be.” He reached into a drawer of the bamboo chest and took out another small handcrafted jar. “Just be certain to rub this on before you get dressed,” he said. “It’ll help keep the mosquitoes away.”

  “I brought repellent.”

  “This works better.”

  She opened the jar and scooped a bit of the pale green cream onto her finger, then brought it up to her nose. “It also smells a lot better.”

  “That, too.”

  Their eyes met once again, and in that suspended moment K.J. saw both desire and regret in Alec’s gaze. She had no trouble recognizing the emotions, since she was feeling them herself.

  “Well,” he said again, “I′d better get going. Why don’t I pick you up about six-thirty?”

  “That sounds fine.” Something suddenly occurred to her. “This will be our first date.”

  Instead of laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation—two married people about to get a divorce having a first date thousands of miles away from home—Alee seemed to be thinking that over.

  “Better late than never,” he decided.

  He touched her again, just the slow swipe of his knuckles up her cheek as he passed the hammock, then left the hut. It wasn’t until he’d gone that K.J. belatedly realized that her scold had been strangely silent all day.

  Not wanting to push her luck—no point in waking sleeping dragons, she decided—she immediately put that thought out of her mind.

  ALEC COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. As he stood outside the door of the hut two hours later—his hut, he reminded himself—he felt ridiculously like a pimply faced kid on his way to his first prom. With the head cheerleader, no less.

  Biting back his anxiety, he rubbed his jaw, which he’d shaved for the second time today—definitely a record since his arrival in the jungle. Then he took a deep breath that he hoped would calm him but didn’t, and knocked on the door.

  The door opened instantly, making him wonder if perhaps she’d been just as anxious waiting for him. Then he took in the sight of her and that question—along with any possibility of coherent thought—fled his mind.

  He wondered if Kate had any idea what a vision she made, with her fiery hair in that artful tousle atop her head, a style that suggested a single tug of a pin would send it cascading over her shoulders. He thought he detected the faintest touch of makeup, but she’d applied it with such a light hand he couldn’t tell if the soft color in her cheeks and the light in her emerald eyes was due to cosmetics or emotion.

  There was nothing overtly sexy about the simple off-the-shoulder dress. Once again he couldn’t help noticing that she’d lost a great deal of weight, weight she couldn’t really afford to lose. Yet the cream cotton brightened with a tropical flower print skimmed her body in a way that hinted at pleasures beneath. As he made an appreciative masculine perusal, Alec realized that he’d never before realized exactly how sexy a woman’s calf could be.

  “If you’re trying to get me to change my mind about the divorce, you’re definitely going about it the right way, sweetheart.”

  The color in her cheeks deepened. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

  “Too bad.” He took the flower he’d picked on the way from Rafael’s hut and slipped it into her hair. “It’s not exactly the requisite wrist corsage, but it reminded me of you.”

  The bloom was the color of newly churned cream with deepening pink interior petals. As he lifted it to her hair, K.J. had caught a glimpse of the dew drop at the heart of the deep rose center.

  “It’s lovely. And that was very thoughtful of you.” She lifted a hand to her hair. “And why would I want a corsage?”

  He shrugged, feeling foolish. “This feels a bit like a prom date. Which would call for a proper corsage in a nice little box with the florist’s name on it.”

  “I never went to a prom, but I think I’d rather have this.”

  “I’m glad. And how could you not have gone to a prom?”

  “I went to an all-girls school.”

  “Still, you had to have gone to some dances with boys from nearby schools.” He’d gone to a military academy, but had garnered more than his share of invitations from local girls.

  “Actually, I never did.”

  “Were all the boys in New England blind?”

  “Not really. They wanted curvaceous blondes. I was t
oo tall, too skinny, and my hair was definitely too red.”

  “Obviously blind and stupid to boot,” Alec decided. His gray eyes took another slow, appreciative perusal. “You really are the most incredible creature.”

  “Thank you.”

  Oh, God, whenever he looked at her that way, K.J. couldn’t help wondering if she was really doing the right thing, asking for the divorce. Then she remembered how quickly he’d given in and decided that perhaps the attraction they were both obviously feeling really wasn’t the forever-after kind.

  But it sure wasn’t bad for what it was.

  She skimmed an appreciative glance over him. “You look pretty good yourself.” Better than good. He looked gorgeous in a faded blue chambray work shirt and another pair of worn-white-at-the-seams jeans that hugged his sex in a way her fingers were aching to.

  He toyed with the dangling pink seashell earrings some feminine impulse had had her purchase when she’d bought the native straw hat. “You know, if you’re still uncomfortable attending the fertility ritual, we could always just stay home. Watch a little TV, send out for a pizza, neck in the hammock—”

  “We don’t have a television. And it’s a very long way for Dominos to deliver.”

  “True.” His grin belied his sigh. “I suppose that just leaves us with the necking part of the evening.” His fingers brushed the pastel shells aside; his teeth nipped delicately at her earlobe.

  “Alec.” It was more shimmering sigh than complaint.

  “Is that a yes?” His clever hand traced the outline of a hibiscus just below her right breast. When his sly, wicked fingers brushed against her nipple, K.J.’s heart began to thunder in her chest.

  “You promised.” Even as she tried to protest, she tilted her head back, inviting the touch of his lips.

  Alec instantly obliged. “True.” Her skin there was as pale and silky as the blossom in her hair. His tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat and tasted warmth. And desire. “I also promised not to do anything you truly don’t want me to do.”

  She was swaying, as if they were back on the rolling deck of his boat. She lifted her strangely heavy hands to his shoulders for balance. “I don’t want this.”