Chapter 4

      Aly pressed her face into Josh’s shirt. It was damp with sweat, it smelled of him, and she dragged his masculine fragrance into her nostrils as if it were life she was breathing into herself. His arms held her snug, but not tight. Closing her eyes, for just a moment, she wanted to feel safe. Really, honest-to-God safe, when she knew she would never feel that way. But with him...with this tall, strong Marine whose smile melted her heart and made her yearn again, she was confused, wanting and needy.

      He awkwardly caressed her hair, as if trying to make her feel secure. And she did feel his genuine warmth—even if it was an awkward attempt—more than at any other time in her life. She wanted to slip her arms around his narrow waist, to pull closer, to never be let go. But Aly knew she was being romantic and unrealistic, as her father would accuse her. Yes, she was.

      Gently she pulled out of his Josh’s arms, his masculinity still surrounding her. It had felt so good to be held. To actually have someone who cared for her. So much of her life, especially as a nurse, she’d cared for others. She’d given until she was exhausted on every level. Aly didn’t regret it.

      Looking up at Josh, she saw his eyes burning with desire. For her. It shocked her and she stepped back, wildly aware of her breasts, her tightening nipples thrusting against the damp T-shirt she wore. Tearing her gaze from his, she whispered, “I’m ready to go.”

      Aly was blushing. It became her. Josh started to apologize. For what?

      He was driven to embrace Aly, to hold her because, damn it, she needed it. He had felt it in his heart, his gut. And he’d seen the soft look in her blue eyes, a hunger maybe, as she’d reluctantly pulled out of his arms. His body throbbed and he was so glad she couldn’t see his erection. That would have been a disaster under the circumstances.

      “Hold on for just a moment,” he told her harshly, kneeling by a thin stream at their feet. He pulled out a dark green washcloth he kept in another pouch. In a few quick, hard, scrubbing strokes, he washed all the camouflage paint from his face. As long as they were ahead of any party Duarte sent after them, he wouldn’t need it.

      Aly’s heart quickened upon seeing how handsome Josh Patterson was without any camouflage paint. He had a square face and straight black brows across gold-brown eyes. His nose had been broken but it appealed to her. When her gaze fastened on his mouth, she felt her lower body contract. She felt anything but neutral about this Marine. His mouth was strong and chiseled. A mouth of a leader. One that she wanted to taste.

      Aly decided she was certifiable. No doubt, she was in shock. Her mind wasn’t functioning normally and everything, her senses especially, was raw and heightened. Her skin still tingled from where Josh had unexpectedly held her. His shoulders were incredibly broad, shouting of his confidence and capability. When he lifted the flop-brimmed hat off his short black hair, she glimpsed a man who truly was a warrior. Josh wasn’t pretty. Rather, ruggedly handsome. His face was weathered; there were deep lines at the corners of his eyes. His gaze was like that of an alert eagle waiting for prey.

      The hardness she detected didn’t translate to the way Josh had touched her earlier, or the way he’d gently embraced her. He’d invited her to come into his arms. He hadn’t forced her. Her heart kept opening up a little crack more at a time.

      Aly had thought she was so done with men. But this man seemed to naturally trigger every female hormone she owned. It was so embarrassing. They were running for their lives and she was thinking about sex?

      “Ready?” Josh asked, turning to her after tightening the straps on his ruck.

      “Do you still want me to hold on to your belt? I know I’m slowing us down.”

      He smiled a little. “Yes, hold on. Because if you trip or something, you can grab on to me and I’ll try to catch you. And—” he arched a brow “—you’re doing the best you can, Aly. I’m fine with it.”

      Pursing her lips, Aly wanted to say, You have already caught me and held me, but she nodded and kept her eyes on the ground in front of them instead. To look into Josh’s golden gaze would make her weak with longing.

      * * *

      Two hours later the mist that always hung silent in the jungle, glowed with the golden light of an unseen sun as Aly struggled to keep up the rhythm Josh had set for them. Her breathing was better and it allowed her to go further this time without collapsing. Josh seemed to realize she had pushed as far as she could and slowed. He guided them over to what looked like a flying buttress tree. The roots were like the wings of a plane, the buttresses tall enough on each side to hide a person easily from sight. He led her over to the tree and gestured for her to settle inside the U-shaped area.

      Aly never welcomed sitting more than now. She wiped the sheen of sweat off her face, her T-shirt drenched and sticking to her skin and breasts. She tried to pull it away but the fabric hung heavy and so she just let it go. Now she wished she’d thought to put on her bra. At least she had panties on. Josh eased out of the huge ruck and set it gently on the ground. He opened it, pulling out a gallon of fresh water in a plastic jug. Handing it to her he said, “Drink all you want.”

      He pulled a sat phone out of his harness and continued to look around, always circumspect that someone might see them. Right now, the birds and monkeys were singing and calling. If something threatened them, they’d immediately stop singing. The monkeys would start their screaming warning. She watched him as he wiped his brow with the back of his arm, turned on the sat phone and punched in numbers, connecting, she presumed, with Langley.

      Aly sat with the jug in her lap, listening to him talk in a low tone. His profile was strong-looking. She closed her eyes, tipping back her head against the wall-like root, feeling exhaustion steal upon her. In moments, she was dozing.

      * * *

      Josh looked down as he put the sat phone into the harness. Aly was asleep. His heart tugged in his chest. She was pale and now, in brighter light, he could see the damage done to her throat, her cheek and the bruises on her upper arms. She’d been pretty well beat up, threatened either with death, rape or both. Her long, slender hands were relaxed in her lap, the jug between them. He didn’t have the heart to wake her and carefully lifted the gallon jug off her lap. Moving quietly, he refilled his CamelBak and then finished what was left of the extra jug of water.

      They’d traveled another five miles in two hours. Worrying about Duarte’s soldiers tracking them, he looked at the regional maps and plotted new courses to throw them off. The Amazon River was a hundred feet below them, about five miles to the north. It would