Postcards From Rio. Tina BeckettЧитать онлайн книгу.
only a small hole, but rainwater has poured in and made a pool of fresh water that you can drink.’ Diego noticed she was still pale from her fright with the python and her eyes looked like dark bruises in her white face. ‘Why don’t you go and splash some water on your face and freshen up while I get your bags from the Jeep?’
Clare held her torch tightly in her trembling hand and forced herself to walk to the back of the cave. She had to spend the night here for Becky’s sake, she reminded herself. The kidnappers had instructed her to be at the cave on Sunday but they had not specified at what time. They might arrive at dawn and she could not risk missing them, hence her decision to stay in the rainforest overnight, although she was certain she would not sleep at all. Her nerves were at breaking point but she dared not ask Diego to stay with her in case he was seen by the kidnappers.
She found the small pool where a natural basin that had formed in the rocks had filled with rainwater, and felt marginally better once she had washed her face. But the prospect of meeting the kidnappers the next day filled her with dread. Was Becky still alive? What if the kidnappers took the ransom money and killed both of them? Before she had left England her sister’s kidnapping had seemed surreal, but now the danger of the situation was terrifyingly immediate.
A golden glow suddenly flared at the front of the cave and she saw that Diego had lit the fire and also the kerosene lamp, which he had brought from the Jeep. He had been busy, and Clare’s heart clenched when she saw that he had spread a sleeping bag on the floor and brought in a few cushions to make her makeshift bed as comfortable as possible.
He glanced at her. ‘Sleep close to the fire and you’ll be safe from any curious forest creatures. I’ve brought your bags from the Jeep and also some dried fruit and nuts for breakfast.’
‘Thank you.’ His gruff concern brought tears to her eyes. ‘You are very kind.’
He was standing on the opposite side of the fire to her and his muscular body was silhouetted against the darkening sky outside the cave. His face was shadowed by the brim of his hat but Clare saw the gleam of his white teeth when he grinned. ‘I’m no saint, Sister.’
‘Perhaps not, but I think you are a better man than you know,’ she said seriously.
For several moments he stared at her across the flames that danced between them before he turned abruptly and walked out of the cave, disappearing into the dusk. Seconds later Clare heard the sound of the Jeep’s engine, and only then did reality hit her that he had left without saying goodbye and she was alone in the rainforest.
It was what she had planned, she reminded herself. It was vital that Diego was not around when she met the kidnappers tomorrow. So why did she feel numb inside? Why did she feel as if her heart had been torn from her chest? He was a womaniser who made Mark look like boyfriend of the year. But he was also courageous—she remembered how he had captured the python. During the long and arduous journey from Manaus he had proved himself to be patient and dependable, and he had even poured away his beer when she had told him about Aunt Edith being killed by a drunk driver.
The tears she’d managed to hold back before Diego had left now spilled over. She was tired and scared and, to make matters worse, as she huddled close to the fire her damp clothes began to steam. It seemed sensible to at least attempt to sleep, and so she took off the nun’s habit and veil and spread them on a rock, hoping they would dry before she had to put them on in the morning.
It was too hot next to the fire for her to get into the sleeping bag but she rearranged the cushions Diego had given her and discovered that he had left behind the book of Keats’s poems. His kind gesture undid her completely and she choked back a sob. She felt utterly alone, but a faint noise from outside the cave put her senses on high alert. She strained her ears, hardly daring to breathe. Something or someone was out there and she did not know if she would prefer the intruder to be a wild animal or a kidnapper.
The unmistakable crunch of boots on the gravel floor at the cave’s entrance escalated Clare’s terror. Her instinct was to hide but she firmed her jaw, determined not to give in to her fear. If the men who had kidnapped her sister were here it was up to her to deal with them. For Becky’s sake she must be brave.
She stood up and hurriedly wrapped the sleeping bag around her. ‘Who’s there?’
‘It’s me, of course.’ Diego strolled into the cave and the light from the fire illuminated his big frame. ‘Who did you think it could be? No one else is mad enough to spend a night in the jungle.’ He threw his sleeping bag down on the floor and tossed his hat on to a rock before raking his fingers through his hair that for some reason was wet although it was not raining outside.
Clare stared at him, hardly able to believe he was real and not a figment of her imagination. He had changed into clean jeans and a denim shirt that was unbuttoned to halfway down his chest, and he looked so ruggedly gorgeous that her heart rate rocketed.
‘I...I heard the Jeep and I thought you had driven on to Torrente,’ she stammered.
‘I noticed the wheels were sinking into the mud, so I moved the Jeep to firmer ground and then took a shower beneath the waterfall.’ He stepped around the fire and frowned when he saw tears on her cheeks. ‘You didn’t really think I would abandon you in the rainforest, did you?’
His sexy smile shattered Clare’s tenuous hold on her composure. The terror she had felt a few minutes ago had been needless. Diego was here and for now at least she felt safe. The sleeping bag fell from her shoulders as she gave an inarticulate cry and flew across the few feet separating them to launch herself at his chest.
‘I thought you had gone and I would never see you again.’ It was a sign of her emotional state that she did not consider how betraying her words were. All she cared about was that Diego had appeared, tall and strong, like a blond Viking. His bare skin revealed by his half-open shirt felt warm beneath her hands as she clung to him.
‘Clare?’ His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it as his arms came round her and enfolded her. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he lifted her off her feet and crushed her to him. ‘Deus, do you think I could bear to leave you, anjinho?’ he murmured against her lips before he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that plundered her soul.
DIEGO BRIEFLY FOUGHT and lost a battle with his conscience. A saint would not be able to resist Clare’s passionate response, he told himself, feeling his erection strain against the constriction of his jeans as she parted her lips beneath his.
He was surprised to discover a vulnerable side to her. On the journey from Manaus he had been impressed by her determined spirit and amused by her dry sense of humour. But now she was clearly distraught and he felt her tremble as she burrowed against him like a frightened animal seeking shelter from danger.
She was so tiny. He felt a surge of protectiveness. ‘What’s the matter, pequeno?’ Instinctively he felt sure that her tears were not just because she had believed he’d left her alone at the cave.
‘I don’t know if I am doing the right thing.’ Clare’s iron control over her nerves crumbled and her fears poured out in a flood of tears. Maybe she should have gone to the police and asked them to find her sister’s kidnappers. Maybe she wasn’t brave but stupid and naïve to think that she could rescue Becky.
‘It’s natural for you to have doubts,’ Diego said gently as understanding dawned in him. Clare was facing the biggest decision of her life when she would make her final vows and commit herself fully to a nun’s life. Perhaps she was having second thoughts about the life she had chosen. His conscience told him he should step away from her and suppress his desire, somehow stifle the sexual chemistry that existed between them, which must add to her confusion about her future. But how could he resist her when she wound her arms around his neck and sought his mouth with hers, initiating a sensual kiss that stirred his body into urgent awareness?
She did not look like a nun. When he had