Come Midnight by Kat Martin

CHAPTER SEVEN

BREEWASSUREshe couldn’t sleep. Not with the eerie sounds that warned of the terrible danger in the jungle. Big cats screamed in the darkness. Bugs whizzed past so close she could feel the brush of their wings. Crickets, owls and frogs all chimed in to create a menacing cacophony that made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

Then the warmth of Derek’s solid body began to seep through her clothes, and she stared to relax. Whatever happened, she wasn’t alone. Needing the rest to keep her strength up, and knowing Derek was near, she closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

She wasn’t sure what time it was when she felt Derek’s solid body move away from her. Bree opened her eyes and saw that the moon was up. A few silver rays cutting through the branches of the tree next to the platform gave her enough light to see Derek’s big hand wrap around a branch and twist it off to one side, holding it away from his face.

“Don’t move,” he said softly, sending a chill down her spine.

The clouds shifted, and more moonlight slanted in, giving her a glimpse of a huge snake slithering down the heavy branch that Derek was holding, creating a route for the reptile to travel away from their sleeping platform.

Bree made a sound in her throat as the snake slid over his hand, its forked tongue sliding in and out of its wide, predatory mouth. Her heart was pounding, her blood pumping so hard she could hear every thick beat.

She didn’t move. She didn’t think she could. She watched in terrified silence as the snake continued along the detour Derek had fashioned, along the branch into a different tree, winding its big body around the trunk on its way to the ground.

A breath whooshed out. “Oh my God.”

Derek let go of the branch, turned and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. It won’t bother us now. It was a python—a constrictor, not a venomous snake.” He didn’t mention that a python that size could crush your ribs, drive the air out of your lungs and suffocate you to death.

Bree burrowed into him, trying not to tremble. “What if you hadn’t been here?”

“I am here,” he said. “That’s all that counts.”

She wanted him to lay her back on the bedroll and kiss her again, wanted to feel the heat of his mouth moving hotly over hers. Wanted him to touch her, continue where he had left off.

“Get some sleep,” he said instead. “I’ll be right here.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep once we reach the camp.”

She didn’t argue. She was pretty sure it wouldn’t do any good. She stretched out beside him and closed her eyes, but it was hours before she fell asleep and only a few minutes later that the female hijacker roused them.

“Get dressed,” Pilar said. “I will bring food.”

Derek was already wearing the cargo pants that had been set out for him, Bree saw as she sat up rubbing her eyes. The pants fit perfectly over his rounded, muscular behind, looking nearly as tailored as his expensive suit. When he turned and started stripping off his wrinkled, once-white dress shirt, she told herself to look away, but all those lean muscles snagged her attention and wouldn’t let go.

Powerful pecs, amazing biceps and six-pack abs that laddered down a rock-hard stomach. The man clearly stayed in shape. When he pulled the long-sleeved camouflage T-shirt over his head, covering his magnificent chest, she managed to bring her lust under control and start getting dressed herself.

As she fastened the bra she had unhooked for sleeping last night, a memory arose of Derek’s big hand cupping her breast, his finger sliding over her nipple, making it ache and tighten. Desire slipped through her. Considering they were in the middle of a Honduran jungle, it was insane, yet there it was, making her ache for him all over again.

With a sigh, she took off her dirty pink-flowered blouse and pulled on the V-necked camo T-shirt that must have belonged to Pilar, a woman close to Bree’s same size.

“How are the boots?” she asked Derek as she turned her back to take off her jeans and pull on the cargo pants.

“Pilar seems to have a good eye for sizes. The clothes and the boots are a pretty good fit.”

Bree wasn’t so lucky. Pilar was thinner. The borrowed T-shirt stretched uncomfortably across her breasts, and the cargo pants were a little too long and a little too snug over her hips. She remembered the feel of Derek’s hand sliding over her curves last night and bit back a moan.

Forcing her thoughts back to the task at hand, she slipped on the boots, which were slightly too narrow, but the socks would keep them from rubbing. She prayed that by the end of the day, her feet wouldn’t hurt too badly.

“Once they get wet, they’ll stretch a little,” Derek said, looking down at the leather boots. It had already started to rain, a light patter that could rapidly turn into a downpour.

Bree stepped off the platform into the foliage to take care of her needs while Derek kept watch for the snake and any uninvited men who might wander in her direction.

Pilar arrived with more baleadas, these more heavily spiced and stuffed with some of the leftover meat. “You must eat quickly,” the woman said. “We will be leaving soon.”

As Bree ate her makeshift breakfast, she gazed at the jungle-covered mountains stretching into the distance around them. There was no sign of civilization as far as she could see.

She looked back at Derek. “Another day of traveling out here and no one will ever be able to find us.”

He followed her gaze into the forbidding wall of green. “That’s the idea. Let’s just hope your dad comes through with the money.”

Bree shivered. She didn’t doubt it. The question was, would the hijackers let them go after the ransom was paid?

THELONG, MISERABLEDAY seemed to go on forever. The rain had been manageable for a while, then the sky opened up and poured down in earnest. Rivulets of water cut the trail, turning it muddy and making it even more difficult to hike. The wind came up, blowing leaves and sticks with enough force to dig into their skin. They hadn’t had enough water and had only eaten a handful of nuts since breakfast.

Bree was exhausted to the point of collapse, and Derek was worried about her. He’d offered to carry her, but she had indignantly refused.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m tired, but I’m okay. Besides, it’s going to be dark soon. Hopefully, they won’t make us go much farther.”

Mercifully, her wish was granted an hour later. By then the rain had stopped and the sun had come out, a bright spot in an otherwise wretched day.

Derek spotted the camp ahead, a large open space dotted with canvas tents set up in a circle. Campfires burned in the middle, where what appeared to be Indigenous women worked to cook meals for the men who lived in the camp—somewhere around forty of them, Derek guessed.

Some of Batista’s soldiers came to greet their esteemed leader and his group of weary travelers, but the women continued their tasks, working to finish the meal before darkness swept over the camp.

“We made it,” Derek said, sliding an arm around Bree’s waist, keeping her close beside him.

“Thank God,” she said.

Pilar brought bottles of water, and this time they drank their fill. Derek could smell the juice of roasting meat dripping into the fire, and his stomach growled.

“Sounds like you’re as hungry as I am,” Bree said.

“Yeah, and the good news is, it looks like they’re actually going to feed us.”

Cisco showed up just then and prodded Derek with his rifle toward a row of tents off to one side of the clearing.

“You will stay in here,” he said, lifting the canvas flap and motioning Derek inside. Derek urged Bree into the tent first, and the cooking smells disappeared as they entered, replaced by the odor of wet socks and jungle rot.

“Tonight the women roast un cerdo to celebrate the arrival of El Defensor,” Cisco said, using the Spanish word for pig. “You will wait in here.” Cisco turned and walked away, the tent flap falling closed behind him.

Derek made a brief survey of their temporary quarters—at least he hoped they were temporary. He glanced over at Bree, who was doing the same thing.

“How do you like the new digs?” he asked. There were two narrow cots with a striped wool blanket folded on each and a small wooden table with a kerosene lamp on top and two wooden chairs.

Bree sank down wearily in one of the chairs. Both of them were wet, tired and hungry. “I guess it’s better than sleeping out in the jungle.”

“Yeah.” Derek made a cursory inspection of the interior but found nothing useful. He sat down across from Bree.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Not too bad. How about yours?”

“Not much worse than they were last night. But walking out of here could be a bitch.”

Bree gave him a worried nod, then looked up at a sound overhead, the whop, whop, whop of helicopter blades. Derek had noticed an open space through the trees off to one side as they had entered the camp. Now he knew what it was used for.

“Sounds like El Defensor is arriving in style,” Bree said, but Derek’s thoughts had already jumped ahead to how he could get his hands on the chopper and get them the hell out of there.

“Wait a minute.” Bree eyed him warily. “I can almost see your mind spinning. What are you thinking, Derek?”

“I’m a pilot, remember? I was just thinking we might not need to wait for your dad’s money.”

“You can fly a helicopter?”

He shrugged. “I took a few lessons. I never got my license, but I could manage to get us in the air.”

Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “You could manage to get us in the air?” she repeated, incredulous. “No way. We need to wait. Dad will pay and they’ll let us go.”

Derek didn’t press the issue. No need for her to worry unless they had no choice. “I hope you’re right,” he said.

A few minutes later, Pilar arrived with dry clothes, a long, gathered red skirt and off-the-shoulder white blouse for Bree and a clean pair of cargo pants and dry camo T-shirt for Derek.

“You will put these on and Cisco will take you to El Defensor,” Pilar said and left the tent.

Bree cast Derek a look, then turned around and started stripping off her clothes. Derek did the same, managing not to imagine Bree standing behind him naked, but it was a near thing.

They had just finished getting dressed, sliding their feet into woven leather, open-toed, huarache-like sandals, when Cisco opened the tent flap.

“You will both come with me.”