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a small six-foot fiberglass boat with a motor on the back. Excitement flares through me and I wrap an
arm around Mendoza s chest from behind and squeal. Oh my God, it s a boat! It s a boat! We re
going to get out of here!
He adjusts himself automatically at my touch, and maybe it s weird, but I m starting to get used to
the idea of Rafe having a constant erection around me. He then shakes his head. Let s not get too
excited just yet. That boat might be there because that means the enemy is nearby.
I freeze in place. You mean . . . Fouquet?
Or Fouquet s men. They re going to come looking for that purse or for you.
Shit, I breathe. What do we do, then? Go back deep into the jungle? The thought makes me
want to cry.
Nah, Rafe says, and he turns to grin at me. We re gonna steal their fucking boat.
An excited giggle escapes my throat. I don t think I could adore the guy more than if he had turned
around and told me he had brownies. I like the way you think.
He starts to strip off his pants.
What are you doing?
Rafe peers at me from under the bandages swathing one half of his face. I m going to get in the
river and swim across to bring the boat.
I stare at him, aghast. Are you frickin high? You have a stab wound in your back
Which you cauterized.
And you have a bad eye that can get infected and is a whole lot less sexy to a girl.
He stares at me for a moment.
I m serious, I say, putting my good hand on my hip. I m all for nursemaiding and sponge baths,
but the moment you start dripping green shit from your eye socket, I am out.
Rafe snorts and starts to unbutton his shirt again.
Oh no you don t, I say, and start to pull my own shirt off. I am so going in that river and you are
not.
Don t be ridiculous, Ava, he says to me. It s dangerous.
It s all dangerous.
I can probably swim better than you.
I m a champion swimmer, I lie to him. Won three medals in high school for the breast stroke.
I pull my shirt off and since I m now in my bra, I give a little wiggle of my breasts to see if he s
paying attention.
He is. Boy, is he. His gaze immediately swoops down to my tits. And I feel in control again.
Here s the thing, Rafe, I tell him. You are no good to me if you re all infected and dead, okay?
You staying alive and whole means I stay alive and whole. And I m willing to make a deal with you.
A deal, huh? He pushes a hand against the front of his pants, but it s obvious that I ve awakened
the beast once more. He can t hide the fact that he gets an erection. Not in cargo pants. Not with that
dick.
Yup, a deal, I tell him. I wonder if my nipples are hard. Because the idea of my deal is making
me turned on. You let me get that boat and I promise that when we get back to civilization, I play
nurse and give you a sponge bath.
It sounds like I win both ways, he says, and his gaze flicks to my breasts again.
You do. And you aren t the only one.
But his white knight side isn t letting me win so easily. Even as I slip off my pants, he glances
across the muddy, nasty river. Champion swimmer, huh?
Three medals in high school, I agree.
He sighs and looks back at me. I don t like this.
I don t care. I don t like the thought of you getting gangrene, either.
Now he just looks amused. Pretty sure you can t get gangrene from a river.
Pretty sure you re just stalling, I tell him, and hand him my pants, then my shoes. I m a little
freaked out over the thought of getting in that water, but it looks like bad news for Rafe and his many
wounds. Mine are all under the skin blisters, a broken pinky, etc. His are far more troubling and
more likely to get infected.
Sponge bath, huh? He s trying to be nonchalant about it, but there s a husky note in his voice that
tells me he s already thinking about it.
Yup, I say cheerfully. I m swimming that river.
He frowns but takes something out of his pocket. Take this at least. He hands me the small knife.
Good idea, I say and clench it between my teeth. I give him a sassy wink, and before I can think
about alligators or piranhas or snakes hiding in that murky brown water, I move to the riverbank and
step in.
It s warm and silty. Ugh. I also can t see my feet. Double ugh. I move into the water slowly,
wading out. Then I start to swim awkwardly, because my wrist hurts when I push it against the water.
I thought you said you were a champion swimmer, Rafe calls as I more or less dog-paddle into
the river.
I lied, I call between knife-gritted teeth.
He curses.
And then I m concentrating on swimming to the boat as fast as I can. I m terrified, and fear makes
me paddle faster, especially when something brushes against my foot. It could be an old branch fallen
into the water. It could be a twenty-foot-long snake. It could be a fish. I don t stick around to find out.
I just swim faster.
The water gets deeper toward the middle of the river and I can t touch the bottom, but it shallows
out again on the other side and I make it to the side of the boat. There s a rope tying it to the shore, so
I hide on the side of the boat and use my knife to cut it. When the boat is freed, it begins to drift, and I
realize I have no idea how I m supposed to get in the damn thing. My bad wrist aches something
awful, and I don t know that I can use it to spring myself into the boat. Then again, it s too unwieldy
to swim it back to the other side.
Something bumps against my leg in the water again, and I panic. Grabbing the side of the boat, I
ignore the trembling weakness in my wrist and haul myself over the side. A blinding flash of pain
shoots up my arm as I tip the boat to the side, but I manage to roll into the bottom. I lie with my legs
propped up on one of the seats, and a small, choked sob escapes me. My wrist hurts worse every
damn day, and right now it s white-hot agony. I don t have time to baby it, though. I force myself to sit
up, holding my wrist against my chest. There s a paddle at the bottom of the boat, and I reach for it. I
don t know how to work a motor, but I m sure I can figure out how to paddle.
It s only when I reach for the paddle that I realize there s something else in the boat with me. With
a mixture of horror and awe, I pull the heavy machine gun into my lap.
Oh, holy shit.
I ve just stolen the boat of someone with a goddamn machine gun. Eyes wide, I stare across the
river at Rafe. What the fuck do I do now?
He s not looking in this direction, though. He s gazing down the river, machete in hand. I m
tempted to pitch the gun into the bottom of the river, but we might need it. So I start paddling my way
to the other side.
Hopefully I can get to Rafe before the owners of this gun come back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RAFAEL
She swam across the river for me.
I can t get that thought out of my head. The ground I m standing on is shaking. There s a tectonic
shift in the Earth s crust but apparently no one can feel it but me. When she took off her shirt and her
barely covered breasts jiggled in front of me, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn t
muster up a single argument to prevent her from sliding into the river, because I had no brain activity.
Her tits are that magnificent.
Look what I found! she cries and lifts what looks like an AK-47 triumphantly above her head.
There s a long magazine dangling from the chamber of the machine gun. The gun isn t going to get us
out of the jungle faster, but we re no longer low on the food chain. A couple of bullets from that baby
and we ll be eating something better than snake.
I mentally punch myself so I can get my head in the game. Enough with the fucking mooning. So
she swam across the river. She wants to get out of this humid land of suck as much as I do. I tell
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