The Flyboy's Temptation. Kimberly Van Meter
more round green buds and hastily tossed them back, chewing quickly so he could get it over with. “What I wouldn’t do for my meatball sub,” he groused.
Hope commiserated, swallowing quickly. “Never been a huge fan, but right now I’d go face-first into that sub if it were in your hands.”
J.T. laughed and pulled the water canteen to wash down the jungle gunk. “Here, take a few swigs. The aftertaste is a killer.”
They shared a few drinks and then surveyed their situation. “Best guess, this is the Lacanjá River. If we follow it, we should run into a few villages. With any luck, we can hitch a ride to one of the bigger cities closer to Guatemala or Belize. From there we can regroup and find another plane.”
“And what if this isn’t the Lacanjá River, but some other tributary and we end up more lost than ever?”
“Then we’re going to be eating a lot more of those disgusting berries,” he said grimly. But, God, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“That’s not a great prospect,” she said.
“Tell me about it.”
They wound their way along the river’s edge, slipping and sliding, landing more than once in the water, before they realized they were running out of traversable land and would have to double back.
“Maybe we could let the current take us downriver,” Hope suggested, and bit her lip in distress. Thinking better of her own suggestion, she said, “Or we could just find an alternate route.”
“The current is moving pretty fast. I wouldn’t want to take the chance if we didn’t have to.”
Hope agreed, sighing heavily. As they turned to go back the way they’d come, they heard the distinct sound of voices speaking Spanish heading their way and froze.
“What do we do?” Hope asked fearfully, swallowing as she stood rigid. “They’re going to see us any second!”
J.T. did some quick thinking and came up with two possible scenarios. Stick around and die, or jump in the water and possibly drown—only one option had a slim shot of survival. Grabbing her hand, he yelled, “Jump!” right as a bullet split the air by his ear and they went feetfirst into the fast-moving river.
If he hadn’t been choking on river water, the sudden cool of the water would’ve been refreshing, but the brutal current was tossing them around like rag dolls, pulling them under as they went, only to spit them out again as they drew quick lungfuls of precious air.
“J.T.!” Hope managed to scream before going under again. He swam toward her and managed to grab her hand and pull her to him, but the waves buffeted them, doing their best to tear them apart.
“Don’t let go!” he yelled, gripping her hand so hard he would’ve feared under normal circumstances that he’d snap bone.
J.T. popped out of the water in time to see the worst-case scenario materialize before his eyes. Awww, shit. A waterfall loomed and they were heading straight for it.
He knew they had seconds before they went over, so he used the time to shout quick instructions.
“Whatever you do, try to go feetfirst into the water. With any luck...we won’t hit rocks!”
“Rocks?” she cried, ending with a shrill, “OHHMYYGOD” as they plunged over the side.
It would be a miracle if they survived.
And J.T. worried...they might be plain out of miracles.
* * *
HOPE SURGED TO the surface with a huge gasp as her lungs screamed for air. Mist from the waterfall sprayed her face as she tread water looking frantically for J.T.
Oh, God, please don’t be dead. “J.T.?” she called out, desperately hoping that some kind of luck—even if she didn’t believe in luck—was on their side.
J.T. popped up from beneath the water and she nearly cried with relief. She swam to him and immediately went into his arms, so grateful that he was alive that she didn’t care that he was a relative stranger. Immediately aware of the strength rippling in his arms as he held her afloat, she found herself a little breathless.
“You okay?” he asked, and all she could do was nod gratefully.
“You’re alive,” she said, smiling through tears that had suddenly appeared without warning. “I thought you were dead when you didn’t surface right away.”
“More weight...went deeper,” he grunted, his arms tightening around her, water spraying all around them.
“I was scared,” she admitted, pushing away the wet hair clinging to her face. “I thought for sure we were both dead.”
“Not dead yet,” he said with a ragged smile, showing no signs of letting her go, and she was okay with that.
More than okay.
Was it bad that she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go?
Of course it was.
“Well, glad you didn’t die,” Hope said, reluctantly pulling away so she could gather her wits before they floated away along with her self-respect.
“That makes two of us,” he said from behind her as they swam away from the falls to climb onto the rocks lining the bank of the river.
Hope cautiously stood on a slippery flat rock to survey where they’d landed.
“It’s like something off a postcard,” Hope noted with wry amusement at the raw natural beauty of the scenic lagoon as her gaze traveled up the waterfall. She shuddered at how high they’d fallen. Had she really just gone over the falls like a skipping stone? She didn’t even like staying on the top floors of hotels! “But I never want to do that again.”
J.T. paused in shaking his head like a shaggy dog to squint up at the falls. “Yeah, that was an adrenaline rush, wasn’t it? Reminded me of the time I went bungee jumping off the Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado. I thought I was going to piss myself. It was great.”
“I don’t understand the fascination people have with putting themselves in terrifying situations simply for the biochemical response created by saturating your brain with fear hormones.”
J.T. shrugged as if he’d never taken the time to ask the question, nor did he care. “It was fun. We went out for beers afterward. Good times.” He eyed her with interest. “You mean to tell me you’ve never done something simply for the thrill factor?”
“My idea of a thrill does not involve the potential of bodily injury.” Hope made her way gingerly from the rocks toward the bank. Turning to watch him as he followed, and trying to keep from staring at his perfectly molded physique, she added, “Besides, I find scientific discovery thrilling. You may not realize this, but a lab can be filled with excitement.”
He laughed at her claim, but when she cast him a sharp look, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll take your word for it.” He maneuvered around her, holding his hand out to help her navigate the final rock.
Hope slipped and he yanked her into his arms before she could land on her behind. Sheltered in the warm cove of his arms, Hope had a hard time remembering why it wasn’t completely natural to be cozied up to J.T. as if they were a newlywed couple enjoying an exotic honeymoon.
“Thank you,” she murmured, intensely aware of how wonderful it felt to be pressed against all that solid muscle and just how long it’d been since she’d enjoyed the company of the opposite sex.
Hope gazed up at him, unable to break eye contact, even though she knew she should. “Extreme situations often cause an emotional response to the opposite sex that could be misconstrued as attraction,” she explained, not only for his benefit, but for her own.
One dark eyebrow went up. “Are you feeling a misplaced attraction, Dr. Larsen?”