Island Heat (A Sexy Time Travel Romance With a Twist) (7 page)

I reached the new branch after about five minutes of careful maneuvering. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as my last branch, and part of it was rotted away, and the knothole where my leg would rest looked like it was full of equally disgusting, slimy insects. I imagined spiders the size of Dobermans and decided that maybe I’d lurk on the ground for a few.

It took a few minutes to get back to the ground, but once I was there, my makeshift bandage fell off like I’d never tied it in place, and I spent another chunk of time trying to rig the damn thing to stay back on my foot. Salvador would have a heart-attack if he’d knew that I’d left the tree. No sense in adding to his anger by showing him I’d undone all his hard work as well.

My bandage floppy and falling to pieces – but still on my foot – I took a quick survey of my surroundings. Salvador hadn’t returned yet, and the sun was about to go down. There was a definite chill in the air that reminded me that it got cold here at night, and I rubbed my arms. Surely he hadn’t left me for good. Not after traveling so slow today just for my benefit.

I was just being paranoid.

I settled at the base of the tree and pulled my legs close to me, watching as the forest sank into the busy time of night. A few creatures scurried about – some more of the oversized rodents I’d seen a few times lurking in the underbrush – and were bolder now that the sun was going down. I glimpsed a dinosaur in the background and my heart nearly froze in my chest at the sight, but the extremely slow cadence of steps – no quick
thump thump
– and the fact that his long neck was angling upwards to eat leaves relaxed me. A brontosaur, I reminded myself, remembering how as a kid I’d been in love with dinosaurs more than Barbies. How times had changed.

Right about now, I’d give anything to never seen another dinosaur again, I mused, just for a chance to return to the Barbie Malibu Dream Mansion, creepy boss or not.

Something white underneath the moving strands of a bush caught the corner of my eye, and I glanced over, only mildly interested.

A business card lay in the moist loamy dirt, damp and half-stuck to a leaf. As if in a dream, I crawled over the few steps to the plant and pulled the wet card off the leaf and flipped it over.

Diana Holcomb
, it read.
Licensed Realtor.

It was my business card.

I got to my feet, weak and giddy. I only kept the cards in my purse, so for a card to be here meant that my purse was somewhere nearby. I also kept Chapstick (which I sorely needed), Tic-Tacs (which made my mouth water) and my cell phone (which made me want to sob with joy).

I paced our small campsite, oblivious to my bandaged foot, the bandages of which quickly fell apart after a few steps. Surely there was another business card close to here.

There! A few bushes away, I caught another peep of white and raced towards it. Trembling, I plucked it from the dirt. Another two lay scattered in the dirt about fifty feet away.

I followed the reckless trail of cards, until the tree I’d been told to stay in was no longer in sight, and my heart was hammering in my throat with excitement. If I found my cell phone, I could call out. Surely we’d be able to get satellite service from somewhere around here.

I turned a corner, and lo, there it was. Hanging from a nearby tree-branch over one of the little dirt paths, almost entirely upended on itself and leaking business cards everywhere, was my stylish brown Coach handbag. I gave a small cry of joy at the sight and rushed forward to grab it.

Just before my hands were about to clench around my purse in sheer joy, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and I slid into a muddy pit.

My scream was cut off as mud filled my mouth, and I flailed at the bottom, trying to get my balance. A pit trap. Broken foliage dangled over the top of the pit, and I stared up at my purse, still hanging from the tree, contents dangling ever so sweetly out of reach.

I stood up at the slushy bottom of the pit, my feet sucking and getting stuck in the watery mud, and it made me nervous. I didn’t want to end up in quick-sand, unable to keep my head above the surface. If I stretched my arms up above my head, my fingertips just fell short of the lip of the pit. Frustrated, I slapped against the dirt wall and cursed, looking for a root or something to grab onto.

Up above, the fake foliage atop my pit rustled, and I slid back into the mud, cringing to the far corner of the pit. Visions of the T-Rex filled my mind, and I waited for that long, toothy head to lean over and chew me up and spit me out.

Several dark, hulking figures leaned over the edge of the pit, and in the deepening twilight, I was able to make out the grinning face of Bgha.

“
Meh
,” he said down to me.

Great. My caveman paramour had returned. Salvador was going to be so pissed at me…if he ever found me again.

*** *** ***

The cavemen were able to get me out of the pit with a group effort. I raised my arms – because going with them was preferable to waiting to be eaten – and they hauled me out with callused, brutal hands, their fingers digging into my flesh so hard I was positive I’d have bruises.

They were strong, though, and within moments I was up on the muddy bank, covered in slime and shivering in cold.

Bgha put a proprietary hand on my lower back. “
Meh
!”

The others didn’t argue. They figured I was his. No one else was quite so vile and overbearing, after all. They gathered up my purse and bound my hands in front of me with a dirty piece of leather.

With their little spears pricking my back, I was pushed to the front of the small party, a mud-covered, miserable captive. I dragged my aching feet as we went along the small path, eyes stinging from the mud. My wet hair plastered to my face as I swung my head, looking for a hopeful glimpse of Salvador.

I never saw him. A little part of my hopes died with me when I realized he wasn’t coming.

We walked for a few hours, until the moon was high in the sky and I was stumbling into the scenery in exhaustion. I’d thought that we might have stopped earlier than this, but they seemed to want to press on.

Bgha barked something at me. I shook my head, not understanding his language. It was clear soon enough when he reached out a leg to trip me, and I tumbled to the ground. The others howled with laughter at the sight of me sprawled on the ground, muddy and helpless. I struggled to right myself, but one planted a massive foot on my backside and shoved me to the ground again. I got the hint and stayed down.

Within moments, my feet were bound together, just like my wrists, and the leather cut into my skin painfully. The cavemen settled in at the small clearing, plucking leaves off of nearby plants and chewing and laughing, and generally being boisterous. They were thrilled they had me again, I noted with disgust, because Bgha was the loudest one of all.

One of the cavemen wandered into the woods with his spear, presumably to find dinner, and I huddled near the background, trying to stay out of eye contact as the others relaxed, pissed in the bushes, and continued their garbled, jubilant conversation.

At one point, Bgha must have grown tired of bragging to the others about me, because he turned and looked over at me with beady eyes, and my skin prickled in fear. He approached me, a speculative gleam in his eye, and slid a hand over my bare, muddy leg.

I shifted away from his touch, clamping my knees tightly together. I knew where this was heading. “Go away,” I bit out, trying to sound as brave as possible. “Fuck off.”

He grinned down at me, yellow teeth crowning that nasty mess of beard, and jerked my knees apart. I clamped them back together again, only to have him dig his fingers harder into the flesh of my thighs and force my legs apart again. The other cavemen watched nearby, silent except for the occasional guttural jeer.

I tried to fling him off by jerking my body hard to the side. “Don’t touch me,” I said, my voice raising to a frightened shriek when he did just that, his dirty, squat fingers exploring my belly and fingering my swimsuit with interest. His hairy body shifted against my leg, and I felt his erection pressed into my flesh.

I shuddered with revulsion. “Salvador’s going to totally beat the shit out of you,” I said, biting back a sob of fear. “You wait and see.”

“
Ongomeh!
” Called one of the voices, and all of the cavemen turned. One of the others was there – the one hunter, holding a nest full of oversized eggs. He raised one triumphantly over his head. “
Melaar ongomeh
!”

That got their interest right away. The cavemen gathered around the hunter, talking excitedly, fighting over the eggs. Bgha gave me one last cross look and slapped my leg, heading over with the others to claim his share.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Tossed over for raw eggs. I could live with that.

I wormed into the shadows, trying to disappear as they broke open the eggs and sucked the contents down with noisy slurps. Maybe they’d all get food poisoning and die, I thought cheerfully. I huddled in the shadows, working my wrists and trying to kick my feet to loosen the too-tight leather.

A hand clamped over my mouth.

“Diana,” Salvador breathed against my neck.

Joy rushed through me, so thick and hot that I wanted to turn and kiss the man. Excited relief bubbled in my throat, and I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out. Instead, I raised my tied hands to show him the straps holding me captive. Nearby, the cavemen fought over the last three eggs, arguing loudly with each other.

Warm, familiar hands slid under my body and lifted me – without a sound – off the ground and we melted into the shadows. This time, I didn’t mind being tossed over Salvador’s shoulder as he raced through the jungle on quiet feet.

We weren’t more than twenty feet away when the outraged bellows hit my ears, echoing in the forest. Salvador didn’t break in stride, though, just continued his cross-country path through the depths of the forest, me jouncing on his shoulder. I relaxed against him, realizing that I was safe once more, and felt relief so overwhelming that I nearly cried.

Like it or not, I was not letting Salvador out of my sight again. If I had to pick between being his woman, and being the woman of a caveman, I’d pick the sexy Spaniard any day.

*** *** ***

We stopped a few hours later, as the sun was coming up behind the trees. I’d dozed for a bit on Salvador’s shoulder, but the rollicking motion left me with little rest and a lot of seasickness. Salvador had slowed down as the night wore on, and I could sense him dragging. I was happy when he put me down and we sat against a fallen log.

I raised my tied hands at him. “Can you untie me?”

He gave me a quick look, and then shook his head, closing his eyes and ignoring me.

Undeterred, I shoved my hands on his chest. “Look, I’m grateful to you for saving me, but I’d really appreciate it if you just untied me. I’m not going anywhere.” I punctuated each word with an angry stab of his chest. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

He merely watched me under hooded, sleepy eyes.

This lack of communication thing was really getting to me. I sighed and gestured with my hands. “Diana Salvador
meh
. Understand? Meh. I’m yours. I’m not running away or anything stupid like that.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “
Meh
?”

I blushed. “
Meh.
” His scrutiny continued and I squirmed, wriggling at my bonds. “Can you please untie me now?”

Salvador gave me another searching look, then finally reached out to undo the bonds that kept my hands tied. I rotated my wrists as he untied my feet, and rubbed at the irritated skin. “Oh, thank you. That feels so wonderful. I—ulp!” My words choked off when he raised my foot and stared at the underside. He ran his fingers along the dirty pads of my foot.

I giggled at the sensation and tried to squirm away. “That tickles.”

Apparently he wasn’t too happy with what he saw, because he grunted and gave me a long look, then picked me up and put me over his shoulder again.

“Wait!” I slapped one hand along his back. “I didn’t get a chance to—“ My words cut off when he gave my backside a quick slap, reminding me that I needed to be quiet in the jungle. I sighed and obeyed, and hoped we were stopping again soon.

We did. Not more than five minutes passed before I heard the rushing of water – and then I had to pee really bad. I squirmed on his shoulder until he released me, and we took a momentary break as I went to the bushes. He stuck close by – a little too close for me not to be embarrassed, but after our last mishap, I didn’t want him going anywhere. Business done, I stepped out of the bushes and wished for a sink to clean my hands at, noting the grime under my fingernails, and sighed. Oh, to be clean again.

I got my wish. Two more minutes of jostling travel on Salvador’s shoulder, and the smell of water hit the air at the same time that I realized we were near the sound of the moving water. I craned my head to see my surroundings, and gasped with excitement when I did. “A waterfall!”

Salvador gently set me down at a rocky outcrop near the edge of the small pool, and I sighed with appreciation at its beauty. It wasn’t a big waterfall – rather, one of the thicker streams had met a rocky outcrop at some point, and the result was a small burbling waterfall that dropped into a small pool that ran off into another stream. The water smelled clean and cold, though, and I got excited just at the thought.

I turned to look at Salvador. “Is it safe to bathe?” I made a washing motion, gesturing at my muddy, caked hair.

He nodded at me and pulled his knife out, gesturing that he was going to scout the area while I washed. Sounded good to me.

Thick plants covered the banks of the small pool, and I hid behind one of those and shucked my bikini before sliding into the water and immediately submersing myself up to my shoulders to hide my body in case he felt like looking. Not that I was much to look at right now, I admitted to myself. Grime caked every pore of my body, and the lower I sunk in the water, the larger the cloud of filthy water that surrounded me.