Man of Passion (9 page)

Sighing, Ari closed her eyes. "How wonderful…how absolutely beautiful! That must go in the book. Oh, how I wish my mother could be here…." She opened her eyes and held his dark gaze. "I know she'd have sighed with joy over what you just told me. These are the kinds of stories I want for my book,
Rafe
! Please, just keep sharing these legends and myths with me, will you? This is what I've come down here for." She flung her arms open and stepped forward. "The Amazon is
so
beautiful!
So wide.
So grand!
And how powerful she feels to me!"
Whirling around, the wind catching her skirt and lifting it to reveal her slender ankles, Ari laughed. It was a laugh of joy, of surrender to the eternal beauty of the Amazon jungle that now surrounded her. "I'm in love! Truly in love! This all feels so wonderful to me!"

Rafe
stood there, enthralled by her spontaneity, by the sunlight dancing in her wide, luminous eyes and the soft parting of her lips into a smile that made his heart pulse hard in his chest. The wind picked up strands of her hair for a moment, as if she were being caressed by the river goddess herself. He smiled tentatively. Surely this was no act on Ari's part.

"I see I don't have to worry about you fitting in to our jungle. You're right at home, aren't you?"

Eagerly, Ari followed him to the rickety wooden dock. "Yes, this
is
my home. I feel it here, in my heart. I feel this energy, this sense of being alive for the first time in my life,
Rafe
. I can't explain it, I can only feel it." She gazed lovingly out across the expanse of the mighty Amazon River, which looked smooth and swirling, one moment a muddy color like chocolate milk, the next a clear tea color. Ari could swear she felt the goddess of the river touching her heart, opening it; her chest expanded like sunlight to chase away the dark of the night she'd lived in all her life. She squelched the urge to throw her arms around
Rafe's
broad shoulders and hug him because she felt so incredibly happy. She didn't think he'd take kindly to such spontaneity.

When they reached the plank that led from the dock to his houseboat, he put out his hand to her. "Allow me?"

Automatically, Ari gave him her hand. There was no hesitation on her part, just a sense of that trust he inspired in her. As his strong, callused fingers closed around hers, she breathed in deeply. "I feel like I'm about to board this boat and step into another world!"

Rafe
led her up the plank and onto the worn deck of the houseboat. "You're more right than you know, Ari." He pointed to the cabin. "Down there are your living quarters. The cabby put the luggage there. If you want to change into something more comfortable for our trip downstream, why don't you? I'm going to cast off the lines and get underway." When she saw the disheveled living conditions, he was sure she'd be disappointed. He wondered if she'd wail and cry like Justine had when he'd picked her up at this very dock to take her back to his camp.

Ari nodded. "Do you mind if I watch you cast off?"

"No, not at all."
He grinned a little. She was like a wide-eyed child who had never seen a boat before.

"So much for my
Manaus
visit," he told her as he crossed the plank.

Stymied, Ari stood there and felt the gentle rocking of the boat beneath her feet. "What do you mean, your ‘
Manaus
visit'?"

Untying the stern,
Rafe
threw the hemp rope onto the deck. Then he hurried forward and unknotted the bow line. "I come to
Manaus
in an official capacity for the city, for
whom
I work, as few times a year as I can get away with." He leaped onto the boat, picked up the boarding plank, placed it on the deck and tied it down. "Most of the time I'm in the jungle, my real home. Coming to the city is painful to me. I don't like the sounds, the noise or the congestion." As he rose to his full height, he held her gaze. She was still standing there, her hands clasped to her breast. There was something innocent and pure about Ari that he'd seen only in children—never in a woman. And she was certainly a woman.

"And you prefer your jungle home?"

He climbed the ladder to the cockpit, situated on top of the galley and living quarters and protected on three sides by wood and glass panels. "How do you say it? I'm a country boy at heart? That is
norteamericano
slang for where my spirit lives." He took a key out of his pocket and inserted it into the console. With one twist of the key the motor began to growl and white water began to churn at the stern.

Suddenly, Ari wanted to join him in the cockpit. But she realized
Rafe
was right: she had to get out of her skirt. If she tried to climb that ladder, she'd trip and hurt herself. She'd shown him her awkward side already and she wasn't about to do it again.

"Hey, wait just a minute? Let me change. I want to join you and see how you get out of here."

Rafe
nodded as he watched her bolt across the deck and hurry down the wooden steps. "Sure," he called. "Take your time. We're in no hurry."
Stunned that she obviously relished being on the boat and looked forward to seeing more of the river and jungle, he shook his head.
Was he loco? Or was she? Ari's reaction to everything seemed genuine. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself feeling a tad better about her being at his camp.

As he gazed across his beloved river at the dark green jungle on the other side,
Rafe
sighed deeply. He felt smitten, a little giddy with joy.
All because of Ari.
What a wild and natural woman she appeared to be. Was she really? That would be too much to hope for. He wasn't sure she really even knew herself. She was more spontaneous child than conservative adult. He grinned sourly. He hadn't known what to expect with Ari. Since she was the daughter of a powerful man in the
U.S.
, he'd thought she'd be confident, arrogant and very socially conscious. Well, scratch his assumptions; Ari was none of those things.

As he looked around, the gentle movement of the boat comforting him like a welcoming lover,
Rafe
smiled again. Life was full of surprises. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve the gift of Ari Worthington, but one thing was for
sure,
he was going to give the river goddess her due for such an incredible surprise.
If
Ari was a gift and not a lie wrapped up in a beautiful package. Life had never looked brighter—or more hopeful to him on one hand. On the other, he was wary of Ari and her reasons for being here. In his business, he was alone most of the time. Women of his station would refuse to have a relationship with him—much less think of marriage—because he was never in
Manaus
. He lived and worked in the jungle—where his heart was, where his soul thrived.

Glancing below,
Rafe
placed his hand lovingly on the wooden wheel and waited patiently for Ari. She was worth waiting for because he would now see the Amazon through her eyes. The eyes of a child-woman who was enthralled with the beauty of this incredible place on the Equator, a beauty few people knew of. Yes, life was more hopeful, more tempting, than he could ever recall. Then again, Justine had acted just as enthralled about the journey to his camp, too. In due time,
Rafe
would begin to see the real Arianna Worthington.
One way or another.

Breathless with anticipation, Ari hurried up the teakwood steps. She noted that they were sadly in need of sanding and
revarnishing
. The houseboat was very old, well-worn and lived in, she realized, now that she'd had a chance to see the living quarters.
Rafe
was obviously neat and clean, despite his disheveled appearance at the airport, though everything was cramped down below. There was a sofa that doubled as a bed. The shower was tiny. The galley kitchen was spick and-span, but small. Still, it would be her home away from home for the next three to six months.
That made her feel
giddy. She had been expecting to rough it, but the houseboat was a wonderful surprise.

Quickly trying to smooth her hair into place because she'd mussed it while haphazardly shrugging into a crimson tank top and jeans, she found herself more than eager to be with
Rafe
. In her hand, she had her faithful leather-bound journal and a pen—just in case he had another story to tell her.

Rafe
heard Ari clambering noisily up the stairs. Against his better
judgement
, he
grinned
a little as she emerged. Her hair looked flyaway, an unruly golden mop around her face and shoulders. Still, it did nothing but make her look more beautiful in his eyes. She wore a brilliant red tank top that nearly matched the flush on her cheeks. He saw with pleasure that she wasn't going to be a fashion dresser. That was a surprise to him. Instead, she wore a pair of soft, serviceable blue jeans that were loose enough that she could comfortably hike in them. He liked the dark brown leather belt with the sterling silver heart clasp that she wore. Yes, he suspected grudgingly, Ari was all heart, all passion. His emotions reeled from this possibility.
Rafe
kept trying to reject her because she came from a rich, powerful family, as Justine had.
And as he had.

"Whew! That was the fastest change I've ever done," she confided with a glowing smile as she stood nervously outside the cockpit.

Rafe
pointed to the other chair, which was bolted to the deck next to him. "Come on in. Sit down."

"Thanks," Ari whispered, barely able to meet the curious warmth burning in his eyes. Her heart skittered as her left elbow brushed against his dark, hairy arm. Settling herself in the well-worn wooden chair, she looked around. "I'm so excited! This is a dream come true,
Rafe
. You have no idea…."

"I'm getting there," he murmured dryly, draping his fingers across the twin throttles on the console. When he reversed the engines, the houseboat began to slowly back away from the dirt bank and the rickety old dock.

Ari held the large journal in her lap, gripping it firmly. She liked the quiet way
Rafe
nudged the houseboat out into the river. The gentle floating motion of the craft was soothing to her fractured nerves. "This feels so nice," Ari said,
then
sighed as she gazed at the incredible expanse before them. "The rocking of the boat reminds me of the times my mother would hold and rock me when I was feeling bad, or when I was sick."

Rafe
pointed the bow of the boat downstream, toward where two major rivers joined to create the Amazon. No matter how hard he tried to focus on piloting and keep Ari far from his thoughts, it was impossible. How could she reach inside him so quickly and touch his heart?

"You said it was a dream come true,"
Rafe
said, glancing past her head as he spotted a huge log bobbing just below the surface of the water. It was coming directly at them and he swung the wheel to the left to avoid it. If one of those big logs hit the houseboat, it would punch a hole in the hull and they would sink very quickly. The area they were crossing was where the rivers combined, the current tricky and surprising. Logs and debris could come from any direction at this point of the journey.

"Yes. How much did my father tell you about me?"

Rafe
kept his gaze on the log. The Amazon current was deceptive. The river was wide and deep. It looked fairly calm on the surface, but that was an illusion. The log was traveling with the current,
at a good six or seven miles
per hour. "Actually, I received information on you through Morgan
Trayhern
at
Perseus
. He's a close friend of your father's."
Rafe
didn't want Ari to know he worked for Morgan and added, "Morgan is a friend of mine, also." It wasn't a lie—just not the whole truth. He angled the houseboat a little more to give the log a wide berth. "He sent me your curriculum
vitae, that was
all."

"I see…." Ari watched the dark, waterlogged tree, which was at least a hundred feet long and more than three feet in diameter, slide on by them. From the looks of things everything was big down here in the Amazon. And then she laughed to herself. Look at
Rafe
; he was a huge man! Tall like the proud and mighty trees she saw growing on the distant shore. Not many men stood six foot five. He carried it well. In her eyes and heart, he looked like a warrior from another era. A knight came to mind. Yes, he would definitely be at ease in the age of chivalry. He was such a gentleman in a time when the practice of opening doors for women and carrying their luggage was practically nonexistent, at least in the
U.S.