Man of Passion (27 page)

Ari felt her fingers loosening behind
Rafe's
back as the spinning quickened and became more powerful. She felt her arms slipping from around his torso. Crying out, she tried to retain her hold.

Hold him! Do not let him go!

Sobbing, Ari tried. She felt herself being torn away from
Rafe
. No! She had to struggle. She had to try and keep hold of him, for she knew if she didn't, he would die. Having no idea how she knew that, Ari tried to focus on her heart, on her love for
Rafe
.

Yes! Concentrate! Empower yourself! You can do this!

Strengthened by Inca's growling voice hurtling around in her head, Ari inched her fingers back around
Rafe's
torso. There! She locked her hands behind him. The blackness was complete. She felt as if she were being swallowed up.

Then, just as suddenly, there was a jolt, as if a jet flying at Mach 3 had slammed into a steel wall. Ari gasped. Light and color splashed violently up around her. She felt herself being ripped away from
Rafe
. Oh, no! And then she felt herself falling…her knees buckling and her body meeting the cold linoleum of the hospital floor with a thud.

Ari groaned. Her lashes fluttered open. Where was she? What had happened? She saw Inca leaning over her, her green eyes narrowed upon her. She felt the woman warrior's hand gently caressing the top of her head.

"You will be fine, my brave little sister." Her lips curved and she showed her even, white teeth. Looking up, she nodded toward the bed where
Rafe
lay. "And thanks to you, so will
he
. Come, get up. You will be weak now, but you will be fine in a few hours."

As Ari clung to Inca's strong arm and got to her feet, she saw the stunned expression of the nurses and doctors who were standing outside the room, faces pressed to the glass. Dizzy, she put her hand to her brow.

"I felt like I just got hit by a Mack truck," she muttered.

Chuckling deeply, Inca took her over to
Rafe
. "Here, hold on to the rail for a few minutes. Spread your feet and keep your knees soft. The energy will run out of you and you will feel better."

Instantly, Ari forgot her own confusion and instability.
"
Rafe
?
How is he?"

Inca moved confidently around to the other side of the bed. She grinned. "Look at his color. You see? Life is flooding back into his face. Pick up his hand. Is it not warmer now?"

Excitement and hope threaded through Ari. Inca was right; there was a dull flush to
Rafe's
cheeks as he lay there unmoving. Gripping his fingers, Ari found them warm and alive once again.

"He is returning, little sister. Look…" Inca pointed to his fluttering lashes. "Welcome him home, eh? You were responsible for him returning to us."

Without thinking, Ari leaned over the bed and pressed her lips against his parted ones. No longer were they cool. Tenderly, she moved her mouth against his. She breathed her life into him. As he took a deep, shaking breath, she felt tears slide down her face. And when he exhaled, she drank his breath deep into her body, and into her heart.

Easing her lips away from his, she whispered, "Come back,
Rafe
. I'm here. So is Inca. I love you, darling. I love you with every cell of my being. Please, open your eyes. We're here. We're waiting for you…."

Ari had no idea where her words were coming from. All she knew was that she was speaking from her heart, her soul. Whatever had happened was a miracle, as far as she was concerned, and she realized that even more when
Rafe's
dark, spiky lashes opened to reveal his cloudy brown eyes. She smiled gently down at him. "Welcome home, darling. I love you. I'll be here with you every step of the way. You're going to live,
Rafe
. Do you hear me? You're going to live…."

"I think you've upset the hospital personnel by returning from the grave," Ari told
Rafe
the next day. She'd remained with him throughout the last twenty-four hours, since he'd miraculously emerged from the coma. He was no longer in ICU. They had transferred him to a private room in another wing of the hospital.
Rafe
was sitting up, pillows behind his back,
the
pale blue of the cotton pajamas emphasizing his deep, golden skin, which now glowed with returning health. He was still weak, so she guided the glass of orange juice to his lips.

As she sat there helping him, her heart throbbed with such joy that she was unable to understand what had happened. She knew the healing Inca had given him was powerfully catalytic. When the doctors had rushed in shortly afterward to examine
Rafe
, they'd been stunned. After several more tests with the CAT scan, they'd pronounced his liver not only there, but healthy and no longer shredded or torn by the bullet that had ripped through it.

Inca had placed a kiss on
Rafe's
brow as the doctors rushed in, said goodbye to Ari and then left, disappearing just as mysteriously as she had appeared. Now Ari wished Inca had remained. She had so many questions to ask her since that profound experience.

Rafe
smiled weakly as she eased the glass from his lips. "This is like a dream," he told her, his voice sounding rusty. "I dreamed of you being in the light with me. I knew I was dying. The angels on the other side told me it was my choice as to whether I came back or not…." He slid his hand into hers, her hip resting gently against his thigh as she sat beside him. "And when you held me, I felt my heart explode with such pain and joy. I thought I was having a heart attack…"

Ari sighed and slid her fingers down his darkly haired arm. "So much happened,
Rafe
. I'm not sure about all of it, or how to explain it…."

He rested his head against the pillows. "Inca is powerful in many mysterious ways. That is why she's called the jaguar goddess. The people of the Jaguar Clan are all shamans and healers of varying strength and power. She is one of their most powerful."

Chewing on her lower lip as she watched
Rafe
close his eyes, that tender smile lingering at the sides of his mouth, Ari wondered why she'd ever doubted her love for this man among men. Squeezing his fingers a little, she whispered, "I'm so glad she came. If she hadn't, the doctors gave you less than forty-eight hours to live."

Rafe
felt the terror in Ari. Feeling her like this, experiencing her every emotion, was new to him, but he didn't mind it. The healing that Inca had given him must have forged a deeper bond and connection with Ari, one that gave him privileged access to her emotional state. Sometimes he could swear that he could read her mind, too, because he knew what she was going to say before she spoke the words out loud. Squeezing her fingers in turn, he whispered, "Now that I have a good liver, the doctors tell me that in a few days I can go home."

"Home to your house here in
Manaus
," Ari told him sternly. "
Not
back to your camp near the
Juma
Indian village."

Hearing the fear in Ari's voice, he opened his eyes. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. He knew a sick animal would curl up, unmoving, and sleep for days. Sleep was the great healer. But before he did, he wanted to reassure Ari. He saw the worry banked in her glorious, light blue eyes. She looked beautiful in her purple floral skirt, alive with pale yellow daisies, pink carnations and deep blue hibiscus. The purple short-sleeved, seed-stitched rayon sweater that she wore with it only emphasized her beauty even more. Love for her swelled through his chest.

"
Mi
flor
,
we will go to my
casa,
my home, here in
Manaus
. Don't frown, my love. Right now, it's a time of healing, of celebration, because we're together once again." Closing his eyes,
Rafe
felt himself being pulled into a very deep, healing sleep. The fact that Ari was here, had spoken of her love for him, was all
Rafe
needed. The future was uncertain in some ways. He wanted only the peace and quiet that his home—which stood on the edge of
Manaus
with the walls of the jungle surrounding it—could provide. He saw his home as their castle where they could finally be alone and in complete privacy with one another.
Rafe
eagerly looked forward to that day. It couldn't come soon enough….

Rafe
wandered across the red tile patio that adjoined his house, which stood next to the green wall of the rain forest. It was fall now, March, and he could see the change in the birds that were on their migratory travels northward, where spring was just about to occur. Hesitating midway across the wide expanse,
Rafe
stopped and observed Ari.

She sat at the wooden picnic table where she always drew her orchids since coming to live and take care of him in the aftermath of his gunshot wound. Several bright ceramic containers in front of her held the rainbow array of pencils. She sat looking out upon the rolling green lawn and the rain forest beyond. Sunlight slanted in beneath the protective Spanish tile roof, the rays touching her hair, which hung in golden strands around her shoulders as she worked.

This morning was warmer than usual. A sluggish, humid breeze moved slowly across the open patio. He smiled a little as he watched her work with confidence. How much Ari had changed in the eleven months he'd known
her.
There had been a shift of balance and energy between them since his wounding. Ari moved with new certainty and confidence, and she had nursed him back to full health. No small thanks to Inca, either, who had come once a month to lay her hands on his healing liver, too. Just yesterday, the doctors had given him a clean bill of health. They said it was a miracle he was alive, and that his liver was fully functioning now—as if he'd never been injured in the first place.
Rafe
had grinned knowingly into their confused faces. For years, he'd seen the power of the Jaguar Clan at work on his people, the Indians of Amazonia. Little did he know that he would need their services,
too.
He had much to thank Inca for.

Gazing around, he eyed the large wooden trellises on either side of the patio, each covered with a profusion of climbing flowers. Bougainvillea was thorny, but gorgeous. The white, vibrant violet and
fuschia
colors were like splashes of paint from a master's brush. He watched with joy as a great egret landed on the lawn to look for frogs that weren't already hibernating for the coming winter season. He saw Ari stop her work, lay down her pencils and simply take time to watch the tall, graceful white bird walk across the recently mowed lawn.

Rafe
didn't want to spoil the moment. He clasped the small, dark green velvet box in his left hand, feeling fear.
Anticipation.
Hope.
Anxiety.
What would Ari say to his proposal? Was it too soon? In his country, a woman was courted for at least a year, and then a man could ask for her hand in marriage. Would Ari say yes?
Rafe
was uncertain. She
seemed
happy with him here in
Manaus
. The rift with her father had been healed to a great extent. Ben Worthington had flown down for a visit a month ago. Luckily,
Rafe
had gotten along well with him. Ari's father had looked him over closely, as if evaluating whether or not his daughter deserved better than him. In the end, Ben gave them his blessing, much to Ari's relief.

Frowning,
Rafe
stood and watched Ari's changing expressions as she enjoyed the visit of the white heron. When
Worthington
found out that Ari had her own bedroom, and that nothing was going on between her and
Rafe
, he'd lost a lot of his anger and aggressiveness. One day after Ben was unduly harsh with
Ari,
Rafe
had taken him aside and told him that if he couldn't treat his daughter with the respect she deserved, he could leave the country now. At that moment, Ben Worthington changed his attitude toward
Rafe
. Ben was a man who respected power, and when
Rafe
challenged him one-on-one, man-to-man,
Worthington
's esteem for him rose. Ben demanded to know his intentions toward his daughter.
Rafe
told him he was going to ask for her hand in marriage as soon as he felt the moment was right. When
Rafe
asked if Ben had a problem with that,
Worthington
had sputtered, his face turning a dull shade of red. He'd said that he didn't particularly like the idea of his daughter living in the rain forest. He didn't want to see her put in danger as
Rafe
had been when he was shot and nearly killed in the line of duty.