She jerked, startled, her dazed eyes opening fully, and she could see him grin at her. She pulled herself together. “Given the amount of hair on your face, I don’t think you’re anyone to judge.”
“It’s been a long time without a razor, Sister Beth. I’ll make you a bargain. We get out of this in one piece, I’ll shave for you if you promise not to shave for me.”
“Go drown yourself, MacGowan,” she muttered, closing her eyes.
She heard his laugh. It was a good laugh, she thought muzzily. The laugh of a man who enjoyed life. What would it be like to live through three years of captivity in the Andes and still be able to laugh?
“The bank’s a little high here,” he said, reaching for her.
She tried to fight him, and he caught her wrists in a hard, painful grip, hauling her toward him. “Don’t annoy me, Sister Beth, or I might have to drown you. I’m betting I could talk your bleeding heart foundation to give me some money for at least trying to get you out of here.”
“Not if you murder me.”
“But they won’t know that, and you won’t be around to tell.” He pulled her against him, and a moment later he’d slid down the bank of the river, carrying her with him, and they were hip deep in icy water.
The current was so strong that it tugged her out of his arms, but he managed to hold on to her, letting her half float against him. “And this is supposed to accomplish what?” she demanded.
“It’ll cleanse the wound, since we don’t have any disinfectant. I can wrap something clean around it, but you’re going to slow us down anyway.”
Her endurance was fading fast. “So drown me,” she muttered. “Put me out of my misery.”
He pulled her floating body back against his gaunt one, and his grin was savage. “Oh, hell no, darlin’,” he murmured. “You’ll make some lucky man a very rich, very pretty wife, and there aren’t that many of them to go around. I consider it my duty to mankind to keep you alive.”
“I don’t feel particularly pretty right now,” she grumbled.
He looked down at her, held loosely in the circle of his arms as the water bounc
ed her against him. “As a matter of fact you wouldn’t win any beauty contests at this point,” he said judiciously. “But I expect you’d clean up well. I’ll give you my final judgment after we got to civilization.”
“No, thanks,” she muttered, knocking against him. He was hard all over, hard bones, hard muscles, hard . . . Her eyes opened wide as she stared up at him in disbelief.
He just laughed down at her. “Three years of celibacy, remember?”
She yanked herself out of his arms, but a moment later the water had pulled her away, and he came after her, cursing, a pungent mixture of Spanish, English, and a few languages she didn’t recognize.
The water swept her off her feet, and she went under, then came up sputtering, looking around for him in a panic. He was nowhere in sight, and she screamed his name, as something closed around her ankle, and she remembered anacondas, as the water closed over her head again.
And then she was hauled up into the blessed, muggy air, and MacGowan was beside her. Even MacGowan was better than an anaconda, and she threw her arms around him, sobbing in relief.
For a moment he froze, then simply hauled her out of the water, dumping her on the river bank and climbing up beside her. “Why the sudden affection?” he said gruffly.
“I don’t like snakes.”
“And?”
“I thought it was an anaconda getting my ankle. Not you.”
“I’m not as bad as an anaconda?”
“Not quite,” she said, observing her pale feet. “What next?”
“Just keep from touching the dirt and I’ll bring the bandages.”
He disappeared into the undergrowth. Dylan was there, watching her with interest, and Beth untied her shirt from her waist and pulled it around her, shivering with the cold but determined to keep her frozen nipples from his interested gaze.
He came and sat down beside her. He hadn’t had the benefit of two immersions in icy streams and he stank, but she could smell weed on him as well. “Dude,” he said companionably, “the man likes you.”
“Dude,” she replied, “he likes the money he’ll be paid when he brings us back to civilization.”