Man of Passion. Lindsay McKenna
more confident about herself. A little more sure. Ben had never seen such a flighty, uncertain person as Ari. He blamed it on the unexpected death of Janis and then her mother. Despite their age difference, Ari and Janis had been very close. And Ari had almost given up on living after Janis died. She was just a shadow, no, a mouse who ducked and dodged her way through life, running to the safety of her dream world.
Trying to quiet her spontaneous outburst, because she knew her father disapproved of effusive emotional displays—touching him with her hand or, heaven forbid, hugging him around the neck— Ari asked, “Is all of that for me?”
“Yes.” Ben held up the packet. “I talked to an old friend of mine today. He knows someone—a guide down in Manaus—who is going to help you.” Ben did not mention that Rafe Antonio would also act as her bodyguard, because he knew Ari would instantly rebel. Let his daughter think she was on her own. He placed a color fax in her hands. “This is a photo of Rafe Antonio. He’s a forest ranger near Manaus. He’s got a camp three hours east of there on the Amazon River. I’ve hired him to help you hunt for your orchids. You can stay at his camp, which is near one of the Indian villages he takes care of.”
Awed and stunned by her father’s help, Ari held the paper in her hands. The man in the photo wore a short-sleeved khaki shirt with some kind of emblem on the sleeve. He was standing languidly on what appeared to be a very old, beat-up houseboat. She could see a wide, muddy river behind him. The Amazon? She hoped so. He was so tall and athletic looking as he rested his elbow on top of the wooden pilot house. His face was square, his skin a golden color, his hair short and jet-black. His eyes were filled with laughter, and the wide smile showing his even white teeth made her smile in turn. He looked like an adventurer. Ari’s heart began skipping wildly. Rafe was terribly good-looking, in her opinion. Was he married? Did he have a lot of kids? Ari thought so. He looked married.
“He has a kind face, Father.”
Ben snorted. “You’re just like your mother, Ari, thinking you can look at someone’s face and know him.”
“Sure you can.” She saw her father frown in disapproval. Lately, she’d been getting awfully mouthy around him. Normally she kept such thoughts to herself. Ever since the desire to go to the Amazon had taken hold of her soul and heart, she couldn’t keep the words, her true feelings, from spilling from her lips. Cringing inwardly, she saw the censure in his eyes.
“This man is to be trusted,” Ben said with an effort. He didn’t want Ari to know he was a mercenary in the employ of Perseus. Otherwise she would become suspicious. He had carefully extracted the info from the paperwork he was about to give her. “I’m leaving his résumé and curriculum vitae with you. You can read it on the flight down to Manaus. He’s got a degree in biology. Where he works, there’s plenty of orchids to keep you happy.”
“Wonderful!” she gushed. “Oh, I’m so happy, Father. Thank you!”
“I don’t approve of you going down there, Ari. Don’t mistake what I’m doing. I’m very disappointed you aren’t taking that job on Wall Street which I worked hard to get for you. You think life is easy. You think you can just traipse off on this airy-fairy dream of yours. You never took journalism in university. You need to do that if you want to write a book. And you don’t have a degree in art. I don’t know why you think you can create a book of orchid sketches with text and actually sell it.” Raking his fingers through his hair, he pinned his daughter with a dark gaze. She hung her head and avoided his eyes, as always.
“I’m doing this for you because I know you’ll do it anyway and I’d prefer you had my help. And dammit, I don’t want to see you floundering around in a foreign country, in a strange city, trying to find someone who can help you hunt for orchids. Chances are you’d be robbed, killed or worse, kidnapped, and I’d get a call for a million-dollar ransom to get you back. No, Rafe Antonio is in place because I want you as safe as you can be on this jaunt of yours.”
Pain filled Ari. “I—I understand, Father.”
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” he demanded, barely keeping the anger out of his voice.
Looking from side to side, still afraid to meet his eyes, which Ari knew snapped with frustration, she said, “I don’t really know. Mom said it would take at least three to six months to find enough orchids to fill a book. And then I’d need to go to New York to talk to publishers, get them to buy it.”
Ben sat there helplessly. “Six months? You’re going to be in Brazil for six months?”
“I don’t really know, Father. It could be more or less. Mom figured it would take about thirty orchids per book. If I can find them sooner, I’ll be back sooner.”
“The sooner the better,” Ben growled. He flung his hand toward the packet of information he’d tossed on the coffee table in front of them. “Read through the stuff. Antonio has a recent photo of you. He’ll know you on sight. He’s going to meet you after you get out of Customs at the Manaus airport.”
Nodding contritely, Ari felt like crying. She was going on the adventure she and her mother had plotted and planned for months. During the last year of her mother’s life, when she had been sick with leukemia, Ari had spent hours sitting on her bed, writing notes on the dream trip her mother yearned to take—but never would. That didn’t stop her mother from imagining every day of it, however. And now Ari wanted to live that diary she’d filled with her mother’s dreams. She wanted to fulfill them even if she couldn’t draw or write very well. Ari was sure she’d never get the book sold, but she was going to try because it had meant so much to her mother, who had never had her dreams fulfilled. Ari was only sorry her father didn’t understand why she had to go to the Amazon.
“I’ve got to leave,” Ben said abruptly, and stood up. He rebuttoned his suit coat, smoothed his tie into place and gazed down at her. Ari seemed so fragile. Her skin looked so delicate that he could see the fine veins beneath her large, expressive blue eyes. In a robotlike motion, he reached out and briefly touched her sagging shoulder. “Have a good flight tomorrow, Ari. Call me when you get to Manaus?”
“Sure,” she murmured. His touch was so brief, like a butterfly landing and leaving. Ari ached to have him pull her into his arms and embrace her in farewell. She quelled her own desire to fling her arms around him again. He seemed so embarrassed and uncomfortable when she did it. Crossing her arms against her chest instead, she kept her distance.
Ben pulled out a package from the inner pocket of his coat. “Here, a going away gift, Ari. Use it frequently.”
Surprised, she took the gold-foil-wrapped gift, which sported a red ribbon. “Oh!” she gasped, and quickly sat down, tearing at the wrapping. When she opened up the long, rectangular box, she saw it held a phone. Looking up, a question on her face, she saw her father smile benignly.
“That’s an Iridium phone—the latest technology available. It cost three thousand dollars. Use that to call me anytime. It hooks up to satellites directly. Cell phones don’t work down in the jungle where you’re going.”
Touched, Ari gently put the gift on the couch. Against her better judgment, she threw her arms around her father. He was so tall! So strong and stalwart, when she felt none of those things about herself. Pressing her cheek against his chest, she sobbed, “Thank you, Father. Thank you…for everything….”
“Here, here,” Ben growled as he gripped her upper arms and eased away. “Now don’t go getting mushy on me, Ari. Buck up. And don’t cry. I can’t stand women crying.”
Sniffing, Ari swallowed her tears of joy. “Okay, Father.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’ll call you when I land at Manaus.”
“Yes,” Ben said sternly, “you’d better.” He jabbed a finger toward the fax photo of the mercenary. “And I want to know that you’ve hooked up with Antonio. Do not leave the airport unless he’s there. Do you understand?”
Ari tried to look appropriately contrite as her father went through a three-minute list of what he did and did not want her