Leopard 02 - Wild Rain

would have to move on, leave him behind. Every moment she was with him endangered him.
    Her lashes hid the expression in her eyes from him, careful not to let him see the heat and fire his touch awakened in her. “I feel different. I have since I first came to the rain forest. I feel fully alive, as if something inside of me is trying to break free.” And she felt highly sexual. Ever since she had come to this house, this place, was near this man, in spite of the fever or maybe because of the fever, she was in a continual state of arousal. She burned for him, thought of him night and day, dreamed of him.
    “Rachael, you know the birthmark low on your hip? I knew it was there before I ever saw it. I know exactly how you like to be touched.” He sat up, pushed his hand through his hair in agitation, leaving it tousled and wild, as untamed as he. “How can I know those things?”
    She knew his likes and dislikes intimately too. Sometimes her fingers itched to stroke his chest, to run her fingertips down his flat belly. Teasing and caressing, her tongue swirling in the wake of her fingers until he cried out for mercy. She knew the exact note that would be in his voice, the husky ache in his tone. Just thinking of the need and hunger in his voice sent ripples of fire racing through her body.
    Rio sighed. “Let me take a look at your leg. Between the cat jumping on it and me hurting you, it probably needs a repair or two.” He looked at her, dark curly hair spilling around her face, lips slightly parted, almost in invitation. Her long lashes lifted and he was staring into her eyes, seeing her need.
    Seeing the same smoldering heat in her that burned so hotly in him. He swore under his breath and reached beneath the cover for her ankle, guiding her leg into the open.
    Rachael felt his fingers on her skin. There was a proprietary feeling to his grip. The pad of his thumb swept back and forth over her ankle in a small caress, each stroke sending flames dancing up her leg to the junction of her thighs. His hand slipped lower, over her foot, began a slow, heart-stopping massage.
    “It looks far better this morning, Rachael. No red streaks at all. It’s still very swollen and the two puncture sites are draining again. I’m going to take the dressing off and leave them open to drain.”
    She made a face. “How lovely. The sheet is going to be a mess.”
    “I have a couple of towels I can put under it.” His fingers tightened around her foot. “Rachael, I think we’re out of the woods and we’ve saved the leg, but it’s going to scar. I tried to repair the damage, but. . .” He trailed off, the pressure of his grip hard enough to reveal his distress at his inadequacy without actual words.

Rachael shrugged. “I wasn’t worried about scars, Rio. Thank you for what you did. It doesn’t matter to me.”
    “Not right now, but when you’re back in your world, dancing in a slinky dress, it may make a difference.” He forced himself to say it, to think it. At once the beast rose up, fighting for control, fur threatening to burst through his skin. Wickedly sharp teeth pushing at his jaw to make room. Even his fingers curved, the stiletto-sharp claws threatening to burst out the ends.
    “I can’t ever go back, Rio,” Rachael said firmly. “I don’t want to go back. There’s nothing but death there for me. I was never happy in that world. I’d like to try here, where I feel alive, where I feel close to my mother again. It was her stories that made me come to this place. When she spoke of the rain forest, she made me feel as if I were in it, sensing its sounds and smells and beauty. I felt as if I’d walked in it, long before I ever came here.”
    “This isn’t a lark for some rich woman’s fantasy,” he said, abruptly standing. With the same casual immodesty he pulled on a pair of jeans. “There aren’t stores here, Rachael. There are cobras and wild animals that will hunt and eat you.”
    “Someone managed to put a cobra in my locked room before we traveled on the river,” she said. It was hard not to stare at him, not to see the play of his muscles beneath his skin. She could see the scars covering his body. Many of them were obviously from large cats. But there were scars from knives and bullets and other weapons she couldn’t hope to identify.
    His head snapped around, his hands stilled on the buttons of his jeans. “Are you certain the thing didn’t get into your room on its own,