Hearts In Peril (Billionaire Romance) Page 6

  She shuddered.

  “You okay?” Dean asked.

  “Of course. Yes.” She forced her mind back to their conversation. He’d asked if she missed her family. “I haven’t lived near home in almost a decade,” she said, her voice too businesslike even to her own ears. “So while I miss them a little, I’m used to it.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “You sure have a lot of questions.” And they’d talked about her enough. “I’m really not that interesting.”

  “I disagree. You are probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s the blood loss talking.” She sobered quickly. His blood loss was a huge worry. Not funny at all.

  He shifted beside her. He spoke quietly. “My world is filled with very powerful people who wear their success for everyone around them to see. On paper, you’re a very successful person, and yet you’re working on a tiny Asian island for very little pay and zero recognition. I find that very interesting. And it’s probably not even good résumé material, since this entire operation is currently imploding.”

  Riley sat up. “No, it’s not. This is one little snag.”

  “Being hunted by terrorists is more than a snag.”

  “I’ve lived out here for months and nothing has happened to me,” she said vehemently. “It’s completely safe. For normal people, anyway.”

  “Are you saying I’m abnormal?” he teased, but she wasn’t in the mood to rise to his bait.

  What if the Matthias Foundation closed the program? Being a doctor was all she’d ever wanted, but she didn’t have the heart to go back to practicing medicine in a huge hospital with all the pressures and responsibilities. Out here, everything moved at a slower pace, and she had time to carefully think through every decision.

  Until yesterday, anyway.

  “The people here need me.” And even more, she needed them.

  “They do. So many people across the world need this.” The passion in his tone made her pause. All along she’d assumed this was something that had been assigned to him, but perhaps she’d been wrong.

  “Whose idea was Worldwide Care?” she asked.

  “Mine,” he said quietly. “When we were teenagers, Mom would take Cole and I on these humanitarian trips every summer. While Cole dug right into reading plans and building, I’d usually chat with the locals.”

  “You do like to talk,” she half-teased. She tried to wrap her mind around this being his idea.

  Some of the sadness that had tinged his voice was gone. “Yeah, I’m fascinated by people.”

  “So how did that turn into Worldwide Care?”

  “The older I got, the more I noticed a lack of good healthcare in many of the areas we traveled to. It took several years of planning to bring everything together. Right before Dad gave his approval for funding, Veronica was arrested. Cole intervened when Dad threatened to back out, and I got the money, but I’ve had to spend so much time in court, I’ve really missed being a part of this. And now it may be too late.”

  “It can’t be,” she insisted.

  “I hope not.” His tired words blended into the noise of the jungle, and after a while, Dean’s breathing turned deep.

  Worldwide Care had to continue. It wasn’t a failure just because of yesterday.

  The thought of what her future might hold if it closed down turned her stomach into an unyielding fist of worry.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ◆◆◆

  Dean watched Riley go through the first aid kit in the light of day. Daggers of pain shot up his arm every time he moved. He closed his eyes and breathed in the thick floral scent of foliage. His clothes stuck to his body like a second skin. A filthy, bloody second skin.

  Riley approached him with the kit tucked under her arm. Their talk from early that morning lingered like the remnants of a really great dream. A feeling remained more than any specific memory of what they talked about, one that was warm and happy despite the circumstances, and directed completely at Dr. Riley Rogers. She was so unlike anyone he’d ever met, and where that had upset him yesterday when he’d first met her, today it intrigued him. His instincts told him she was someone he could trust—even if it was clear she didn’t trust him.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked for the third time. Every time he’d replied, he forced a smile and a nod, but even in the last thirty minutes while they waited for Rodel to finish scouting out the area, he’d felt his health decline.

  “Never better.” He shifted to get more comfortable, wincing as his arm was jostled. He hoped today wouldn’t require running, because if so, he was as good as caught.

  “Good.” The worry lines around Riley’s mouth grew deeper. She handed him a couple of pain pills and a bottle of water before reaching behind him for his blood-encrusted tie. His tie had been a gift from Cole and probably cost at least three hundred bucks. He wondered what his brother would think now if he saw it.

  “If we make a sling for your arm, it’ll help your pain levels,” Riley said.

  Dean remained still while she leaned closer to wrap the tie around his neck. He breathed in the scent of her, and closed his eyes when her smooth cheek rubbed against his rough one. Her face was pink when she pulled back. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’ll be gentle, but this is probably going to hurt.”

  She lifted his arm, and he couldn’t stop his cry of pain. Her eyes widened, and she looked around as if the terrorists would find them right away.

  “Finish, please,” he said through gritted teeth. Sweat ran in rivulets down his forehead as she maneuvered his arm into position, but he managed to hold back the shout threatening to tear from his chest.

  “Done.” Riley leaned away to study the sling.

  Dean let the full weight of his arm drop into it and felt the relief of not having his skin pulling around the bullet hole.

  “All those fancy private schools, and no one taught you to dodge a bullet?”

  His mouth turned up into a half smile. “How do you know I went to fancy private schools?”

  Her cheeks turned pink again, and he realized how much he loved when that happened. She was so cool and detached at times, it was nice to see a softer, more human side of her. “Of course you went to a fancy private school. You’re obscenely wealthy. Also, it was mentioned in the article.”

  He groaned. If he could go a day of his life without hearing about that stupid article, that would be a glorious day. “I’m surprised you read it.”

  Riley laughed. “I was curious about the person heading up Worldwide Care.”

  “Do I live up to your every expectation?” he teased. Talking with Riley helped him feel more alive.

  “I don’t know.” She tilted her head to the side. “Arrogant, yes. Handsome, yes.

  Impulsive?” She looked pointedly at his gunshot wound.

  “It’s not my fault I got shot,” he protested.

  “Don’t interrupt,” she scolded, with a glint of humor in her eye. “I was going to say I’ve also learned that you’re not quite what I expected.”

  He waited for her to elaborate, but she went to stand instead. “How so?” he pressed.

  “Desperate for compliments, for one.” She walked backwards away from him, a teasing smile on her face. “And you make for great early morning, on-the-run conversation.”

  He pretended to buff off his shirt to hide how pleased her words actually made him feel. “Well, this isn’t my first brush with criminals.”

  “I don’t know if that’s something worth bragging about,” Riley said.

  Rodel strolled into their small hiding spot, so light on his feet neither of them had heard him coming until he was there. “Friend help.” He motioned for them to follow.

  “Who’s your friend?” Riley asked. “Where does she live?”

  Rodel spoke in Tagalog, several short phrases.

  Dean stared at him, lost.

  Rodel scowled. “We go.”

  Riley looked at Dean, and they had an en
tire conversation in a glance, something he’d read about but never thought was actually possible. Riley still had reservations about trusting Rodel, but Dean knew he was their only hope. Without him, they’d get caught by the terrorists or find themselves lost in the jungle. Both paths led to death.

  “Can you walk?” Riley asked.

  He didn’t have a choice. He allowed himself one second to imagine a cool hospital room; a delicious breakfast spread of bacon, eggs, and French toast smuggled in by his brother and the kind of pain medicine that made him forget he even had an arm. He had to get through this first, and then he could have that.

  He held up his good hand for Riley to help him stand. He was relying on her too much, but he couldn’t make it without her. He went to take his first step, but his knees gave out and pain surged through his arm as he stumbled forward. Every muscle felt weak and worthless. His body could regenerate blood cells and start healing itself—the one thing he remembered from his college bio class—but that would take more time than they had. And with the bullet still in his arm, all of his body’s energy went toward fighting infection.

  Riley wound his arm around her shoulder, and with her help, they took small steps into the dark, shadowy expanse of the jungle. Dean barely noticed the greenery around him, all of his focus on moving one foot in front of the other.

  The sun rose higher in the sky, bringing with it an unbearable heat. Dean’s clothing chafed against his skin, which only added another layer of pain. One more step. And then another. His foot caught on a vine, and his legs were too weak to catch his weight. The ground rushed toward him, but Riley’s strong grip broke his fall.

  “Rodel!” she cried out, still holding most of Dean’s weight.

  He wanted to yell in frustration. Why did he have to be so weak?

  “We’ve got to stop for a minute,” Riley said, out of breath.

  Rodel shook his head, his gaze darting around them. “No good.”

  “We need to rest.” Riley led Dean to a place to sit, her tone final.

  Dean laid his head on the ground, grateful to let his muscles relax.

  Rodel’s frantic pacing kicked up dirt and leaves. Dean attempted to ignore it so he could sleep for a few minutes. Then he’d be good to walk again. He had to be.

  He hated slowing everyone down, but didn’t know how to fix it. It was taking every bit of his willpower just to go as fast as he was going. They’d probably gone about three miles, and who knew how many more they had to walk before they made it to Rodel’s friend. Or, he hoped, the plane. The commute had taken over an hour on the motorized tricycle, and they’d driven a direct route. Walking, and having to stop every few minutes to rest, it would be days before they got back.

  Would he live that long?

  Dean drifted off to the sound of Riley trying to talk Rodel into letting her look at his arm now that it was light outside. He didn’t know how long he slept, but he awoke to the feel of Riley’s hand on his cheek, her mouth close to his ear. His senses ran in all directions, taking in her soft touch, her tantalizing scent, dreaming of how her lips might taste …

  “Don’t move,” she told him, her voice the deathly sort of serious that brought his scattered thoughts together. “There’s a cobra about ten feet from us.”

  Slowly, so slowly Riley could hardly accuse him of moving, Dean turned his head toward where a coiled snake watched them. The triangle around its face framed a forked tongue, as if just waiting for one of them to give it a reason to strike.

  “I hate snakes,” Dean whispered without moving his lips.

  “Me too.” Riley’s hair brushed across his face as she shifted closer to him. “These are one of the most deadly kinds in the world. The good news is if it bites us, we’ll die in seconds.”

  “Fantastic.” Dean’s heart pumped painfully in his chest. “Where’s Rodel?”

  “I don’t know. I fell asleep too, and when I woke up, he was gone, and the snake was here instead.”

  Dean wracked his brain for a solution. “What else do you know about these snakes? Do they travel in packs?”

  “I don’t think so. But maybe.”

  “What if we stand up very slowly and move back the way we came?”

  “What if it strikes at us?” Riley asked.

  “Then we’ll die quickly, right?”

  The snake hissed, and they both silenced. He didn’t want to die like this, bitten by a poisonous snake, and especially not because he was talking too loudly about how not to be bitten by said poisonous snake.

  Riley’s mouth touched his ear. Despite the danger, a shiver ran through him. “How fast can you stand?” Her words were more air than substance.

  “Fast enough,” he said, hoping it was true.

  “On the count of three,” she said. “One, two, three—”

  She popped to her feet, while Dean moved a lot slower than he’d hoped he could.

  “Run!” he told her when the snake slithered in their direction. “Go!”

  “I’m not leaving.” She grabbed Dean’s hands to help him stand. From over Riley’s shoulder, the snake got within striking distance. It launched at Riley’s back. He grabbed her waist, and using adrenaline-fueled strength, he pushed her behind him, squeezed his eyes shut, and braced himself for the snake’s sharp fangs.

  Instead, a whoosh of air moved past his face, and he opened his eyes to see Rodel wielding a stick with a knife lashed to it. The snake’s decapitated head fell to the ground, inches from Dean’s feet. Dean’s head felt light.

  Rodel bent beside the snake head to study it, his expression grim. He looked up at them. “Good?”

  Dean nodded vehemently. “Very good. I’m going to sit.” He dropped right where he’d been standing, mesmerized by the snake’s creepy head. He’d read somewhere that venom remained inside the snake’s glands even after death, but at least in this form, it couldn’t strike.

  “Thank you, Rodel.” Riley’s mouth stretched into a thin line. Her hands shook with jerky movements as she helped Rodel dig a hole in the ground to bury the snake’s head.

  “Are you okay?” Dean asked her.

  “You shouldn’t have tried to protect me.”

  “Why?” Dean hadn’t even thought about his actions before he’d done them.

  “Because then you would have died.” She grabbed a stick and jabbed it hard into the hole, her shoulders tense. “And that’s not acceptable.”

  “But if I hadn’t, then you could have died, and that’s not acceptable to me either.” He rubbed a weary hand across his stubbled chin. Wouldn’t most women be happy someone had tried to save their life? But if there was anything he’d learned over the last couple of days, it was that Riley was not like most women.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re both still alive,” she snapped.

  “It definitely is,” Dean said, and then he shut his mouth because he knew not to push her.

  Rodel and Riley finished digging the hole. Rodel used his stick to move the snake head into it, and then buried it with the dark soil to make sure no one accidently stumbled on a still-venomous snake head. He grabbed the stick, keeping his knife tied to it, but wiped the snake remains on a banana leaf.

  “More snakes?” Dean asked Rodel, who held the homemade spear at his side.

  “Yes,” Rodel said.

  And this time when he motioned for Riley and Dean to follow him, they listened right away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ◆◆◆

  Riley heard the peaceful sound of a rushing brook before she saw the small house in the distance. A light rain fell for several hours after the snake incident and had turned into a warm downpour minutes before. They trudged forward, their feet caked with thick mud, every step heavier than the last. The rain had plastered Riley’s hair to her face and neck, and she tipped her head back to let the raindrops wash some of the grime from her face.

  Dean stared at the ground, like every step took all his concentration, and rainwater streamed from the bridge
of his nose. His steps lurched with a limp that had become increasingly pronounced the longer they walked. Riley imagined that his soaking clothes were chafing his skin raw, just like hers were.

  Her feelings toward him vacillated between warmth and anger. When Dean had shoved her behind him and she saw the snake lunging at his leg, she’d thought he was going to die. Then he’d acted like it was no big deal that he’d stepped in front of the snake for her. Like he didn’t regret it for a moment.

  But if he’d died, she would have had to live with that for the rest of her life. She shuddered.

  Yet, a begrudging respect for Dean was starting to grow the more time she spent with him. He’d endured a long, painful walk without complaining. Just the fact that he could keep moving when most people would have collapsed by now showed his mental and physical strength.

  Rodel picked up his speed when they saw the house.

  Riley drew closer to Dean. “We’re almost there.”

  Dean didn’t respond, and she was disconcerted to realize she missed the sound of his voice. None of them had spoken for hours, exhausted from walking and keeping an eye out for snakes. Thank heavens they hadn’t seen any more, although Rodel hadn’t relaxed until they’d been well away from the area where they’d almost been bitten.

  Dean’s weight grew heavier and heavier against her, and she focused on the house to keep her burning muscles moving. Dean was in so much more pain than she was, and he’d gone miles. She could make it several more feet if it meant getting him help.

  His hand slipped into hers, as if he sensed how exhausted she was. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back, glad for the reminder that they were in this together.

  The house was a tiny one, made of wood and covered with vines, but with a metal roof. She didn’t know anyone lived out here in the jungle like this. Most of the people she’d met lived in villages like hers, made up of a mixture of tall cement buildings, with houses placed on stilts the closer they got to the ocean. It was a smorgasbord of Western and Eastern architecture and culture, and she loved all the pieces of it.