The Treasure (12 page)

With a groan, Brody lit a lantern, risking the dim light to tend Amelia’s wound. It was deep enough to require two stitches. Better she slept through those, but it still worried him she hadn’t regained consciousness yet. Quickly he stitched the wound and covered it with a bandage. Amelia didn’t so much as twitch the entire time.

After he cleaned up and put away his first aid kit, he stretched out beside her and dimmed the light even more so that only a soft glow filled the small two-man tent. Resting his head on a bent elbow, he double-checked the bandage covering the left side of her forehead. The bleeding had stopped, and her face was pale. She looked frail and breakable lying there, but he knew better. Amelia Sawyer was one tough cookie. She’d been through a lot since beginning her journey and she hadn’t complained once. No, she kept her chin up and met the challenges. No matter what she thought, she had her aunt’s grit and tenacity. Except on Amelia, they were sexy and alluring.

Unable to resist touching her satiny skin, Brody feathered a finger down her cheek. She groaned and her lashes fluttered upward. Soft green eyes met his. Relief swept through him. He didn’t pull his hand away.

“Brody?” she whispered. “What happened?”

“You went for a swim. What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay put.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t yell at me. I was careful. No one was around. I needed to stretch my legs. It’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” he repeated, dumbfounded. “How is this my fault?”

“You took too long coming back. I was stiff from sitting so long. Besides, I needed to wash up.”

Brody stared down at her, at a complete loss for words. Sometimes she really blew his mind with the way her mind worked. “Wash up,” he repeated slowly. “You went against my orders so you could wash up?”

Her eyes flared. “Orders? I am not a soldier, Brody. You can’t give me orders. You’re the one who pushed so hard today, hardly giving me a break and never once offering a place to clean up. The jungle is a filthy, sweaty place, you know.”

“No one dragged you here.” Was she really making this his fault? Good God, she was an enigma.

Her mouth formed an O of outrage. “You’re an ass.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“Oh! I can’t believe I wanted to kiss you.”

“You aren’t my type.”

“So you keep telling me. Good night.” She rolled over in her sleeping bag.

Brody scrubbed a hand down his face. Why in the hell did he agree to this? Amelia Sawyer in her soft pink matching underwear had somehow gotten under his skin. Seeing her in nothing but those frilly undergarments was driving him nuts and making him surly enough to take it out on her.

He reached for his pack, dug out a clean shirt and pulled it on just as Amelia jack-knifed in his sleeping bag, her wide eyes centered on him.

“You undressed me.” She clutched the top of the sleeping bag to her chest.

“You would have caught a chill and your wet clothes would have soaked your bed.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Brody couldn’t help but remember how soft and creamy her skin was, and she stared at him as if he was the devil himself. He was, in fact, a gentleman, because right now all he wanted to do was climb in that sleeping bag with her, give her what she wanted and kiss her until she couldn’t remember her own name.

She looked away first, her face twisting in a grimace of pain as she lowered back down to the ground. “My head hurts too much to have this conversation.” She closed her eyes. “You should apologize, though. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Amelia,” Brody growled.

She lifted a hand. “I’m done.”

“You have two stitches in your head so don’t mess with that bandage.”

Eyes closed, she nodded. Her face was drawn and pale, and he mentally kicked himself for snapping at her. Somehow, his fear and concern for her welfare overtook his common sense. The last thing she needed was him chastising her.

He doused the light and stretched out next to her, using his arm for a pillow. All he could think about was her half naked in that sleeping bag.

This was going to be a long night.

“Brody?” Amelia said sleepily.

“Go to sleep, Amelia.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Like a bucket of cold water, her words doused his overactive libido. She was thanking him for something he’d do again in a heartbeat. Like it or not, Amelia Sawyer had worked her way under his skin. And for some damn reason he didn’t care that she wasn’t blonde, big-busted and on the prowl for a night of animal sex.

“Any time,” he said quietly, but she was already asleep.

• • •

Amelia opened her eyes to complete darkness and an awful, skull-splitting headache. Brody’s deep, even breathing filled the tent, reminding her she wasn’t alone. His body was flush with hers, warm and comforting. But it didn’t ease the pounding in her head.

Not wanting to wake him, but in need of a position change to relieve the pressure in her temples, she carefully turned over on her side. When she laid her head down, sharp pain shot through her skull, making her wince. That was the side Brody had put the stitches in. She should have remembered that.

Turning onto her back once again, she touched a hand to her temple, feeling wetness on the bandage. Tears sprung to her eyes. She was uncomfortable, exhausted, sore, and miserable. This wasn’t how her adventure was supposed to be. It was supposed to be fun and exciting, like in the movies.

This was nothing like the movies.

For the first time since she stepped foot in South America, she longed for home and all its comforts. She missed her sisters. They always knew how to make her feel better when she was hurting. Brittany would make her a soothing cup of tea and make her laugh. Caroline would bring her favorite quilt and turn on the Food Network. They would fuss over her until she forgot all about her aches and pains.

Even though she didn’t care much for tea, she wanted a cup right now. And her soft bed and the smells and sounds of home.

“Oh, darn it,” she muttered, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. If Brody knew she was crying he would order her to stop. An impossible task. Once she had started crying she’d never been able to stop.

As tears streamed down her cheeks, she kept her lips pressed together so Brody wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t hard to cry silently; she became very good at it over the years, not always wanting her sisters to know she was hurting. Her ventures often turned into mishaps, but it wasn’t the physical pain that she suffered alone in her room at night. It was the emotional failure and the letdown she experienced every time she failed.

She was feeling some of that now. Her trip so far hadn’t gone accordingly. It had been nothing but a roller coaster ride of fear, anger, uncertainly, excitement, and exhilaration. And pain. Right now, the dull ache in her head made her want to cry harder.

Oh, why did she do this? She wasn’t like her aunt. She wasn’t a world traveler. She was a pastry chef who worked for her sister. Instead of pursuing her dream of opening her own pastry shop.

Even more miserable, she covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Beside her, Brody moved and she froze, crying behind her hand. If he found her like this, she would be horrified. He already thought she was foolish for coming here.

Two strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into Brody’s chest to hold her there. Amelia lay still, not sure if he was sleeping. Warily, she lay there, stiff and ill at ease.

“Relax,” Brody murmured, his chin resting on top of her head.

“You’re awake?”

“Not by choice. Why are you crying?”

Horrified, Amelia tried to pull away, but he held her fast. “I’m not crying.” How did he know? She hadn’t made a sound.

“Liar,” Brody said softly. “Tell me why.”

Despite the ache in her head, she pressed her face into his chest and cried. He held her the entire time, letting her soak his shirt. And when she was finished, he didn’t let go. Feeling much better, Amelia relaxed against him.

“Care to tell me what that was about?”

Relentless
. With a sigh, she said, “My head hurts. It woke me up.”

“So you cried?”

“Well, not exactly, but that started it. I guess I’m a little overwhelmed and homesick.”

“It’s not too late to turn back.”

Never
. “No. I have to do this.”

He shifted, one of his arms leaving her. A second later, the tent filled with soft light. “Sit up. Let me see if you pulled a stitch.”

Blinking against the light, Amelia sat up, missing the close contact. She liked being in Brody’s arms. It was comforting. Like home.

“Isn’t it risky having the light on?” she asked as he cupped her cheek and turned her head to the side.

“They won’t be looking now. You need a new bandage; this one is soaked.”

“That’s why my head hurts so much.”

“You may have a small concussion. I shouldn’t have let you sleep.”

Amelia tried to shake her head, but Brody’s hand prevented her. “No. I’ve had those before. This feels different. I think it’s just stress.”

“What are you worried about?” Gently, he removed the blood-soaked bandage.

Amelia shrugged. “Oh, bad guys with guns, lethal snakes and other deadly creatures inhabiting the jungle, never finding
Paraíso
. Things like that.”

His hand cupped her chin and brought her head up so she was forced to meet his eyes. His expression was hard, serious. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You won’t?” she asked, breathless. His lips were a mere inch from hers. She wanted to run her hands along his stubble jaw, feel his lips on hers.

“You have to trust me, Amelia. I can protect you.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“Then no more tears,” he ordered gruffly.

“No more tears,” she agreed softly, staring at his lips, longing to be kissed.

But Brody didn’t kiss her. Instead, he rummaged in his pack for his first aid kit and took care of her wound. He was very good at taking care of things. He always knew what to do and how to handle whatever came up. Except for kissing her. That he ignored. Even though she sometimes caught him staring at her mouth, too.

So how would he handle it if she kissed him?

“Done. Now, go to sleep. It’ll be light soon.”

While he took care of the supplies, Amelia lay back down, not bothering to re-zip the sleeping bag. Part of her hoped Brody would climb in with her, even though she knew better.

When he turned off the lantern and lay down next to her she said, “I feel I should thank you again. For letting me cry on your shoulder. I was having a … ”

“Moment,” he supplied.

Amelia smiled in the darkness. “Yes.” She was feeling much better. Her head still hurt, but being held by Brody had helped with that, too. It wouldn’t be so bad to be held like that again. It was certainly better than sleeping on the hard ground alone.

“Brody?”

He groaned but she wasn’t deterred.

“Is it always this noisy in the jungle?” All around her, she could hear animals of the night moving and screeching, some nearby, some farther away.

“Yes.”

“Why do you stay here?”

“Amelia,” he warned.

“Just wondering. You’re a handsome man with many skills. Why do you live here?”

“I like the jungle. Now go to sleep.”

Huffing out a breath, she closed her eyes. He never wanted to talk. Almost like he had an aversion to it. Or a phobia.

“So tomorrow, how do we follow the map and avoid Mr. Newton?”

“Let me worry about Newton.”

She knew he would, but the danger still lingered. “But won’t he be looking for us?”

“He can try.”

“Which means … ?”

“Which means we’ll be taking a different path to the next checkpoint on the map.”

She hadn’t thought about that. “Oh. Good idea. You, of course, have planned this new path?”

“Yes.”

“And will it add more time?”

“Can’t be helped.”

That made her sigh again. Her sisters would be climbing the walls with worry if she didn’t check in soon. Brittany would call in the National Guard. Nothing good would come of this if she didn’t get to a phone soon. But where was she going to find one in the middle of the Amazon?

With a yawn, she pushed the thoughts from her mind. There was nothing she could do. Thinking about her sisters only made her miss home even more. The last thing she wanted to do was start crying again.

Talking made her feel better. Distracted her from her homesickness. “Brody?”

“Dear God, Amelia, what is wrong with you?”

“I told you. I’m homesick.”

“If I hold you, will you go to sleep?” he asked wearily.

“Yes, that would help.”

A second later, she was wrapped in Brody’s arms, her head nestled against his neck. Slowly, her homesickness faded away and brought comfort like she never experienced. But she was feeling something more than serenity. The same something she felt every time she was near Brody that made her belly flutter and her heart race.

“You’re not sleeping.”

Amelia smiled at his surly comment. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest and her palms were sweaty.

Oh, why didn’t he just do what most men did and make the first move? It would make this a whole lot easier.

Lifting her head, she tried to make out Brody’s face in the darkness, but it was impossible. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, sensed him looking at her. The hard contours of his chest pressed against the length of her. She liked how they fit together. His hardness against her softness. Just as she liked the way his heart beat strong and steady and how he smelled.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Heat filled her cheeks and she was glad for the darkness. “I … ” What did she say? She couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d never let her kiss him if she told him she was going to do it. Oh, darn. She was no good at this.

Laying her head back down on his chest, she said on a sigh, “Nothing,” and closed her eyes. “Maybe another time.”

Brody didn’t answer and she vowed that she would kiss him before this adventure was over. It would become her mission in life, next to finding
Paraíso
and the buried treasure Aunt Pan marked on the map.