Country Of The Falcon. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
was open and the children were running in and out. The wife of their host was sitting in one corner of the hut suckling the youngest child at her drooping breasts, while from outside came the smell of food roasting over a fire. She looked down at Declan, as relaxed as if he had just spent the night in a comfortable bed, and her colour deepened again as his eyes moved to the rounded outline of her breasts beneath the thin material of her blouse.
‘You’d better button your shirt,’ he remarked dryly. ‘Women’s Lib may be all right for the natives, but I don’t somehow think you’re that emancipated.’
Alexandra’s lips parted and she looked down in embarrassment to find a couple of the buttons of her blouse had become unfastened during the night. Her fingers fumbled them into their holes and then she got to her feet, brushing down her denim jeans in an effort to assure herself that they at least were decent.
Declan sat up, running his fingers through the thickness of his straight hair. ‘There are no washing facilities here,’ he said, ‘but you can wash in the river if you wish. As to the other …’ he grinned, ‘there are plenty of trees for cover.’
Alexandra gave him an impatient look and then walked to the door of the hut. Outside their host was spit-roasting something over his fire. It looked like meat and it smelt like meat, but when Declan came to stand behind her he said it was fish. Alexandra ate some, sitting cross-legged like Declan, and found it amazingly good. Or maybe it was that she had had so little to eat the day before, anything would have tasted good.
After the meal, Declan collected the blankets and they bade their hosts goodbye. Then they walked back through the jungle to the river where the boat was rocking gently on its mooring. Declan slung the blankets into the boat and then began unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. Alexandra stared at him in alarm.
‘What are you doing?’ she exclaimed in horror.
Declan threw off his shirt and with a mild grimace examined a tick which had embedded itself on his chest during the night. Then he bent to take off his trousers, saying: ‘I’m going for a swim. Want to join me?’
‘In the river!’ Alexandra gasped. ‘But aren’t there piranhas in the water?’
‘Probably,’ he agreed, looking down at the purple trunks which were his only piece of underwear. Then he smiled. ‘I won’t horrify you by stripping to the raw. But I don’t mind if you do.’
Alexandra shook her head, turning away apprehensively as he dived cleanly into the water, and then glanced back over her shoulder, half expecting him to appear minus a limb. However, he came up, shaking his hair back out of his eyes, and swam across the current with powerful strokes.
Alexandra remained on the bank until he emerged unscathed, brushing the water from his body and drying himself with one of the blankets thrown to him by the Indians in the boat.
‘That’s better,’ he said, reaching for his pants and pulling them on over the wet trunks. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to try it?’
‘No, thank you.’ Alexandra watched him covertly, noticing how broad his shoulders were and how the muscles of his chest rippled beneath the curls of black hair. There was hair on his stomach, too, but she found him watching her and quickly looked away. Even so, she was aware that she was trembling a little, and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. She had never felt this way before, and she told herself severely that it was the complete lack of inhibition around here that caused the moistening of her palms and the curious weakening sensation in the pit of her stomach. She was not used to seeing half-naked men, or women either if it came to that.
‘You’d better check that you don’t have any bugs making their home beneath your skin,’ he advised, leaving the top buttons of his shirt unfastened and tucking the bottom into his pants with no apparent sense of embarrassment at her scrutiny.
‘Bugs?’ Alexandra stared at him.
‘Bugs, ticks—what’s the difference? You don’t leave them alone. Want me to look?’
‘No!’ Alexandra was horrified. Shaking her head vigorously, she turned away, and unbuttoned her blouse, examining her breasts for any horrible little insects like the tick he had flicked off his own chest. But to her relief there was nothing to be seen and she was about to fasten her blouse again when her fingers brushed against something warm and bulging fastened to the skin that covered her diaphragm. With a little gasp she twisted herself to see what it was and almost fainted when she realised it was a leech.
‘Oh, God!’ she moaned, and at once he was beside her, jerking her round to face him, his eyes darkening when he saw what it was that had caused her despair.
‘Don’t panic,’ he muttered, going down on his haunches and taking out his knife. ‘Now—I’ll try not to hurt you, but keep still!’
Alexandra nodded, her fists clenched. She felt the stinging pain as the revolting creature dropped to the ground, and then Declan leant forward and put his mouth to the place where it had been, sucking hard. That hurt, more than the removal of the worm had done, but she stood motionless until he spat away the blood he had drawn and rose to his feet. Then, with trembling fingers, she gathered her blouse protectively about her and burst into tears.
Declan studied her woebegone face with wry compassion. Then he said: ‘It’s not as bad as all that, you know. But hang on. I’ve got some antiseptic in my kit. I think it needs something over it.’
He swung himself across and into the boat, and came back a few minutes later with a bottle and an elastic plaster. The antiseptic stung abominably, but Alexandra was too distraught to protest.
However, by the time he had secured the plaster and buttoned her blouse for her she was beginning to feel a little ashamed of her outburst. She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, smearing dust across her cheeks.
‘I suppose you think I’m a fool,’ she said.
Declan shook his head. ‘Why should I think that? It was a normal reaction. Better to get it over with than bottling it up. I thought you behaved rather well in the circumstances. At least you didn’t scream when I used the knife.’
Alexandra bit hard on her lower lip. ‘Will it—I mean, it’s not poisonous or anything, is it?’
Declan pushed her gently but firmly towards the boat. ‘No. You’ll survive. But I’ll have another look at it tonight, if you’ve no objections?’
Alexandra hunched her shoulders. ‘There’s not much point in objecting now, is there?’
Declan helped her into the boat. ‘My dear child, the sight of the naked female form is no novelty around here, believe me!’ An amused quirk to his mouth made her feel rather silly and unsophisticated. ‘And besides, you’ve got a beautiful body. Why be ashamed of it? You’ll have to shed those stupid trivial inhibitions if you want to enjoy your time out here.’
Her terror was subsiding and Alexandra felt more annoyed than anything. Annoyed with herself for giving in to blind panic, and annoyed with him for assuming that because he lived here its ways necessarily had to be acceptable to all.
‘If you imagine you can persuade me to go native, Mr. O’Rourke, you’re mistaken,’ she declared shortly.
His expression was derisive. ‘I wouldn’t dream of suggesting such a thing, Miss Tempest.’ His lips twisted. ‘But don’t make the mistake of thinking that these people would be interested, either way. We may not be as—civilised—as you like to think you are, but at least we don’t have a percentage of the population getting their kicks from leering at lewd books, or getting hot under the collar watching some female take off her clothes! And if you stripped here and now, you’d arouse nothing more than a mild curiosity! Your white skin isn’t at all appealing to them.’
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me that Vasco——’
Declan gave her an impatient look and then nodded to the pilot that they were ready to cast off. ‘Vasco is a mulatto, and as