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her a line or was really telling her the truth. “Oh…” she murmured.

      Pleased that Shah was softening toward him, Jake continued in his rumbling voice. “I think Mom might have had a little Native American in her. Cherokee, maybe, somewhere a long ways back.”

      “Then that would give you some Native American blood.”

      Chuckling, Jake held up his hand. “Darlin’, I’m about as white as a man can get. No, if I’ve got a drop of Cherokee in me, it’s so washed out that it wouldn’t matter.”

      Shah pointedly ignored the endearment that rolled off his tongue. It had felt like a cat licking her hand. “But it does,” she said fervently. “It’s a gene type. Even if you have just a drop of Cherokee blood, it would be enough. Genes have memory, and it’s possible that your Cherokee gene is a dominant gene, which would give you an understanding that our planet is more than just a planet. She’s alive. She communicates, and she breathes, just like us.”

      There was such burning hope in her eyes that Jake couldn’t bring himself to argue with her. Then again, she was a biologist, and she knew all about genes and such, so she could be right. If that meant something important and vital to Shah, then Jake was willing to go along with her logic. “Well, I feel what matters is what we do on a daily basis,” he demurred.

      “Your walk is your talk. That’s a Lakota saying.” Thrilled that she was actually communicating with him, Jake heaved an inner sigh of relief. The gold in Shah’s eyes danced with sunlight now, as if she’d met a brother of like mind. However, Jake didn’t want to be her brother. Far from it.

      “Lakota?” he asked, fighting back his less-than-professional thoughts.

      “Yes.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Whites call us Sioux, but that’s an Iroquois word that means ‘enemy.’ We call ourselves Lakota, Nakota and Dakota. There are three separate tribes, depending upon where you were born and the heritage passed down through your family. My mother is Santee, and that’s Lakota.”

      “I see.” Jake smiled. “I like learning these things.”

      “In Brazil,” Shah went on enthusiastically, “the people are a combination of Portuguese, African and native. Brazil is a melting pot, and they certainly don’t worry what color you are. And on top of that, the largest concentration of Japanese outside of Japan live in SÃo Paulo. Did you know that?”

      “No.”

      “I like Brazil because of that. You aren’t judged on your skin color down here.” Shah held out her hand. “My skin looks tan in comparison to yours. But a Brazilian wouldn’t care.”

      “You have golden skin,” Jake told her. Her skin was a dusky color, and he wondered what it would be like to lightly explore its texture—to slide his fingertips along her arm. The thought was so powerful that Jake was stunned into silence. There was such innocence to Shah, to her simplified outlook on life in general.

      Heat fled into Shah’s face, and she looked away from his kind gray eyes, momentarily embarrassed by her reaction to his statement. “Well,” she muttered, more defensively, “you know what I’m saying. Lakota people judge others by their walk being their talk.”

      “It’s a good philosophy,” Jake said, meaning it. “So why don’t you let me prove myself to you the same way?”

      Shah frowned. “What do you mean?” Why did she have the feeling that behind this man’s dangerous looks there was a steel-trap mind?

      With a lazy shrug of his shoulders, Jake said, “I’ve already told you the truth about why I’m here. I accept that you don’t want to go home. So why don’t you let me be your bodyguard? It’s obvious you need one, with Hernandez around.”

      Getting up, Shah began to pace nervously back and forth. “No!”

      “I can’t go home,” Jake told her reasonably, opening his hands. “Your father has paid me for a month’s worth of work down here. I’m not the type to gyp someone out of work they’ve already paid me to do.”

      “You should have been a lawyer,” Shah charged heatedly.

      “Thanks. Was that a compliment?”

      “You know it wasn’t!”

      His grin was broad and forgiving. “Calm down, Shah. I’m not your enemy. If I was, why didn’t I side with Hernandez earlier? You know, I took a hell of a risk by entering that lopsided fray. If your father really wants you out of here, I could have stood aside and let Hernandez do his dirty deed.”

      Halting, Shah ruminated over his observation. She eyed him intently, the silence thickening in the lab. “Why should I believe you?” she asked him heatedly.

      He held her golden gaze. He could see that she was fraught with indecision. Everything was so tenuous between them, and Jake had never wanted anyone’s trust more. He wanted this woman’s trust so badly he could taste it. “You’re right,” he told her quietly. “If your father has had others try to kidnap you, then you’ve got reason to be paranoid. But I can’t prove myself to you except on a minute-by-minute basis, Shah. You’ll have to be the judge and jury on whether I’m for real or not.”

      “I hate men like you!” she gritted out. “They say all the right things. You confuse me!”

      “Truth is never confusing.”

      “Actions are a far better barometer of whether someone’s lying,” Shah snapped. Worriedly she paced some more. “I don’t need you around. I’ve got enough responsibilities, Randolph. Tomorrow morning I’m going to take my video camera and canoe down the river. I’ll make a landing on the parcel where Hernandez has a permit to cut down the rain forest trees. I need that film for the television station that’s funding my work.”

      “Let me go along, then.”

      She stopped pacing and wrapped her arms against her chest. “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because you could throw my video equipment into the river and—”

      “I wouldn’t do that, Shah,” he told her sincerely. “I know you’re jumpy about my presence, but I can’t go home.” He didn’t want to, either. Shah fascinated him. She was an amalgam of fire, spirit and passion—all linked with innocence.

      “Pai Jose said I could stay at the mission,” Jake told her in a soothing tone, “and I’ll do that. He said you live in the village. Let’s take this relationship of ours one day at a time. I’ll be your gofer. I’ll do whatever little odd jobs or piddly tasks come up.” Looking around, he added, “And judging from the way this lab looks, you need about five biology assistants helping you.” Indeed, there were at least a hundred plant specimens in open plastic bags on the four tables. “I’m a pretty quick learner. Just see me as your right-hand man for a month.”

      Shah sat down, weary as never before. She didn’t know what to do or say. Her heart was pleading with her to believe Randolph, while her head was screaming nonstop that he was lying, despite that roughened tone of his voice that sent a tremor of some undefined longing through her. And his eyes! She sighed. The man could melt icebergs with those eyes of his. There was such seemingly sincere gentleness contained in them that Shah had the ridiculous urge to throw herself into his arms and let him hold her.

      Of all things! Shah berated herself. Men meant hurt, that was all. Lies and hurt, and not necessarily in that order. Randolph was too smooth, and far too intelligent, and Shah felt she’d more than met her mental match.

      “We have a lot in common,” Jake said, breaking the brittle silence. “I probably have Indian blood, however little it might be. My parents raised my family to respect Mother Earth.” He gave her an imploring look, because her face mirrored her indecision. “What do you say? A day at a time? Let my walk be my talk?”

      She

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