Hot Ice
like expensive women, flowers in trees overhead that spread out and promised fruit. Passionflower, he thought, spotting a flaring violet blossom. He remembered the one he’d handed Whitney in Antananarivo. They hadn’t stopped running since.
Doug let his muscles relax. The hell with Dimitri. He was miles away and running in circles. Even he couldn’t track them through uninhabited forest. The itch at the back of his neck was just sweat. The envelope was safe, tucked in the pack. He’d slept with it digging into his back the night before, just in case. The treasure, the end of the rainbow, was closer than ever.
“Nice place,” he decided, glancing up to see some fox-faced lemurs scrambling in the treetops.
“So glad you approve,” Whitney returned. “Maybe we can stop and have the breakfast you were in too much of a hurry for this morning.”
“Yeah, soon. Let’s work up an appetite.”
Whitney pressed a hand to her stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Then she saw a swarm of large butterflies, twenty, perhaps thirty, flow by. It was like a wave, swelling, then dipping, then swirling. They were the most beautiful, most brilliant blue she’d ever seen. As they passed, she felt the light breeze their wings had ruffled on the air. The sheer strength of color almost hurt her eyes. “God, I’d kill for a dress that color.”
“We’ll shop later.”
She watched them move, scatter, and regroup. The sight of something lovely helped her forget the hours of walking. “I’d settle for some of that mystery meat and a banana.”
Though he knew he should have been immune to her quick smile and her sweep of lashes by this time, Doug felt himself softening. “We’ll have a picnic.”
“Wonderful!”
“In another mile.”
Taking her hand in his, he continued through the forest. It smelled soft, he thought. Like a woman. And like a woman, it had shadows and cool corners. It paid to stay on your feet and keep your eyes open. No one traveled here. From the looks of the undergrowth, no one had traveled here in some time. He had the compass to guide him and that was all.
“I don’t understand why you have this obsession about covering miles.”
“Because every one takes me that much closer to the pot of gold, sugar. We’re both going to have penthouses when we get home.”
“Douglas.” Shaking her head, she reached down and scooped up a flower. It was pale, watery pink, delicate as a young girl. Its stem was thick and tough. Whitney smiled and tucked it into her hair. “Things shouldn’t be that important.”
“Not nearly so much when you’ve got them all.”
Shrugging, she plucked another flower to twirl under her nose. “You worry too much about money.”
“What?” He stopped and gaped at her. “I worry? I worry? Just who keeps marking down every solitary penny in her little book? Just who sleeps with her wallet under her pillow?”
“That’s business,” Whitney said easily. She touched the flower in her hair. Pretty petals and a tough stem. “Business is entirely different.”
“Bullshit. I’ve never seen anyone so bent on counting their change, tallying every cent. If I were bleeding, you’d charge me a goddamn dime for a Band-Aid.”
“No more than a nickel,” she corrected. “And there’s absolutely no need to shout.”
“I have to shout to be heard over all that racket.”
They both stopped, brows drawing together. The sound they’d just begun to notice was like an engine. No, Doug decided even as he tensed to run, it was too steady and deep for an engine. Thunder? No. He took her hand again.
“Come on. Let’s go see what the hell that is.”
It grew louder as they walked east. Louder, it lost all resemblance to the sound of a motor. “Water against rock,” Whitney murmured. When they stepped into the clearing, she saw she’d nearly been right. Water against water.
The falls plunged down twenty feet into a clear, gurgling lagoon. The white agitated water was struck by the sun on its journey down, then turned to a deep crystal blue. The falls made a sound of rushing, of power and speed, and yet it was a picture of serenity. Yes, the forest was like a woman, Doug thought again. Intensely beautiful, powerful, and full of surprises. Without realizing it, Whitney rested her head against Doug’s shoulder.
“It’s lovely,” she murmured. “Absolutely lovely. Just as though it were waiting for us.”
He gave in and slipped an arm around her. “Nice
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