hand and held it with a pained expression on his face while she took her own, washing it down with a sip of the orange juice she’d saved. She passed the can to him, and he muttered something obscene before he tossed the pill into his mouth and slugged down the rest of the juice.
“Okay, bedtime,” he said, rising to his feet. He jerked his head toward a tree. “There’s your bathroom, if you want to go before we turn in.”
Jane stepped behind the tree. He was crude, he was rude, he was a little cruel—and he had saved her life. She didn’t know what to expect from him. No matter how rough he was, he would eventually disarm her with an unexpected act of kindness. On the other hand, when things were going smoothly between them, he would say things that stung, as if deliberately trying to start a quarrel.
He was waiting for her by the opening of the tent. “I’ve already put the blanket down. Crawl in.”
She knelt down and crawled into the small tent. He had spread the blanket over the floor, and she sat on it. He shoved their packs inside. “Put these out of the way,” he instructed. “I’m going to take a quick look around.”
She shoved the packs into the far corners of the tent, then lay down on her back and stared tensely at the thin walls. The light was almost gone; only a glimmer entered through the translucent fabric. It wasn’t quite as dark outside yet, but the limbs he’d used as camouflage made it darker inside. The flap parted, and he crawled in, then zipped the opening shut.
“Take your boots off and put them in the corner next to your feet.”
Sitting up, she did as he said, then lay down again. Her eyes strained open so widely that they burned. Her body stiff with dread, she listened to him stretch and yawn and make himself comfortable.
Moments later the silence became nearly as unbearable as the darkness. “A collapsible tent comes in handy, doesn’t it?” she blurted nervously. “What is it made out of?”
“Nylon,” he replied, yawning again. “It’s nearly indestructible.”
“How much does it weigh?”
“Three pounds and eight ounces.”
“Is it waterproof?”
“Yes, it’s waterproof.”
“And bug proof?”
“Bug proof, too,” he muttered.
“Do you think a jaguar could—”
“Look, it’s jaguar proof, mildew proof, fireproof and snake proof. I personally guarantee you that it’s proof against everything except elephants, and I don’t think we’re going to be stomped on by an elephant in Costa Rica! Is there any other damned thing you’re worried about?” he exploded. “If not, why don’t you be quiet and let me get some sleep?”
Jane lay tensely, and silence fell again. She clenched her fists in an effort to control her nervousness, listening to the growing cacophony of the jungle night. Monkeys howled and chattered; insects squeaked their calls; underbrush rustled. She was exhausted but she had no real hope of sleeping, at least not until dawn, and at dawn this devil beside her would want to start another day of marathon travel.
He was totally silent in that unnerving way of his. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. The old fear began to rise in her chest, making her own breathing difficult. She might as well be alone, and that was the one thing she absolutely couldn’t bear.
“Where are you from?”
He heaved a sigh. “Georgia.”
That explained his drawl. She swallowed, trying to ease the constriction of her dry throat. If she could just keep him talking, then she wouldn’t feel so alone. She’d know he was there.
“What part of Georgia?”
“South. Ever hear of the Okefenokee?”
“Yes. It’s a swamp.”
“I grew up in it. My folks own a farm just on the edge of it.” It had been a normal boyhood, except for the skills he’d learned automatically in the swamp, those skills, which had eventually changed his life by shaping him into something not quite human. He willed the memories away, pulling a mental shade down over them, isolating himself. There was no use in thinking about what had been.
“Are you an only child?”
“Why all the questions?” he snapped, edgy at revealing any information about himself.
“I’m just interested, that’s all.”
He paused, suddenly alert. There was something in her voice, a tone that he couldn’t quite place. It was dark, so he couldn’t see her face; he had to go entirely by what his ears told him. If he kept her talking, he might be able to figure it out.
“I’ve got a sister,” he finally said reluctantly.
“I’ll bet she’s younger. You’re so bossy, you must be an older brother.”
He let the dig pass and said only, “She’s four years younger.”
“I’m an only child,” she volunteered.
“I know.”
She searched frantically for something else to say, but the darkness was making her panic. She felt herself move to grab for him, then remembered what he’d said about startling him, and about not making offers she didn’t mean. She ground her teeth together and stilled her reaching hands, the effort so intense that tears actually welled in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Grant,” she said in a shaking voice.
“What?” he growled.
“I don’t want you to think I’m throwing myself at you again because I’m really not, but would you mind very much if I...just held your hand?” she whispered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid of the dark, and it helps if I know I’m not alone.”
He was still for a moment; then she heard his clothing rustle as he rolled onto his side. “You’re really that afraid of the dark?”
Jane tried for a laugh, but the sound was so shaky that it was close to a sob. “The word terrified only begins to describe how afraid I am. I can’t sleep in the dark. All the time I was at that wretched plantation I was awake all night long, never sleeping until dawn. But at least I could use that time to watch the guards and figure out their routine. Besides, it wasn’t as totally dark there as it is here.”
“If you’re so all-fired scared of the dark, why were you getting ready to hit the jungle on your own?”
A dark, handsome, incredibly cruel face swam before her mind’s eye. “Because even dying in the jungle would be better than Turego,” she said quietly.
Grant grunted. He could understand that choice, but the fact that she had so correctly summed up the situation illustrated once again that she was more than what she seemed. Then again, perhaps she already had reason to know just how vile Turego could be. Had Turego raped her, or would it have been rape? With this woman, who knew? “Did you have sex with him?”
The blunt question made her shudder. “No. I’d been holding him off, but when he left yesterday...it was just yesterday, wasn’t it? It seems like a year ago. Anyway, I knew that, when he came back, I wouldn’t be able to stop him any longer. My time had run out.”
“What makes you so certain of that?”
Jane paused, wondering just how much to tell him, wondering how much he already knew. If he was involved, he would be familiar with Luis’s name; if he wasn’t, the name would mean nothing to him. She wanted to tell him; she didn’t want to be alone in this nightmare any longer. But she remembered George telling her once that secrecy was synonymous with security, and she quelled the need to turn into Grant’s arms and tell him how afraid and alone she had been. If he wasn’t involved already, he was safer not knowing anything about it. On the other hand, if he was involved, she might be safer if he