LITMIR.BIZ

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at him.

      Jake’s mouth fell open. Her voice was as low as a jaguar’s growl. Her golden eyes were narrowed, just like the jaguar’s.

      “But—”

      “I’m surprised my father was stupid enough to send someone else down to try to kidnap me.”

      His eyes widening, Jake slowly raised both his hands. Shah wasn’t kidding around, he decided. She was fully capable of pulling that trigger. “Look,” he told her, “we need to talk. Why don’t you lower that gun, and we can—”

      “Oh, sure,” Shah said sarcastically. “Last time, Father sent two jerks who threw a gunny sack over my head and started dragging me toward the river, to a canoe they had hidden in the brush.” She pressed her lips together and fought a desire to lower the gun. The man, whoever he was, looked genuinely upset and contrite. She was drawn to his eyes, whether she wanted to be or not. They looked terribly sad, and there were haunted shadows in their recesses. Whoever this hulking giant of a man was, something very painful must have happened to him. Angry at herself, at her tendency to always fall for the potential underdog, Shah hardened her voice. “My father sent you. That’s all I need to know! Now get out of here, go back to Manaus, and leave me alone!”

      Jake heard the real distress beneath the hardness that she was trying to bluff him with and slowly lowered his hands. “Where I come from, we introduce ourselves. I’m Jake Randolph. I work for Perseus, an organization based in Washington, D.C. It sends people around the world to help those who are in trouble.”

      With a twist of her lips, Shah moved carefully, the gun still pointed at Jake. “As you can see, Mr. Randolph, I’m not in trouble.”

      “You were a few minutes ago, lady.”

      “I could have handled Hernandez!”

      “That big goon of his was going to pick you up by your collar and probably throw you into the Amazon. Then what would you have done? Gotten eaten by piranhas?” Jake was teasing her, hoping she’d lower the gun.

      Scowling, Shah kept the long wooden table covered with plant specimens waiting to be cataloged between them. The lab had no electricity and had to rely on the natural light that filtered through the three large windows. “I swim in the Amazon and the channels all the time, and the piranhas don’t attack me.”

      Allowing himself a bit of a grin, Jake said, “Because you’re the meanest junkyard dog in the neighborhood?” He liked Shah. He sensed she was trying to bluff her way out of the situation. But in her eyes he could see a gamut of very real emotions bubbling close to the surface. He saw fear, real fear, in her eyes, a little anger, and a whole lot of wariness. More than anything, he liked the soft fullness of her lips and those flawless high cheekbones. Her wide, lovely eyes took on a slightly tilted appearance in her oval face. Jaguar eyes.

      Jake Randolph’s teasing lessened some of Shah’s primal fear of him. She ignored his smile and tried to pretend she didn’t like the strong shape of his mouth. Despite his craggy features, there was a gentleness to him that threw her off guard. How could anyone who looked that harsh have a gentle bone in his body? Her experience with men had taught her that none of them were to be trusted, anyway—regardless of their looks. “Sit down. Over there, in that wooden chair. And don’t try any funny stuff.”

      Jake nodded, moving unhurriedly so as not to alarm her. He quickly scanned the lab. It was swept clean, and the walls were whitewashed, but green mold still clung stubbornly to the corners near the ceiling, speaking eloquently of the tropics’ high humidity. The building held many tables, as well as a microscope and other scientific equipment. He saw a small glass of water with a lovely pink-and-white strand of small orchids in it. It gave off a faint perfume that was light and delicate—like Shah. He sat down.

      “Now, with your left hand, very slowly take that gun out of your holster and place it on the floor. Kick it away from you with your foot.”

      “I’m a southpaw,” he offered, giving her a slight smile.

      Irritated, Shah moved closer, always keeping the table as a barrier between them. “Then use your right hand.”

      Jake unsnapped the leather safety, withdrew the Beretta and laid it at his feet. “See? If I was really out to get you, I wouldn’t have told you that, would I?”

      “On the other hand,” Shah snapped waspishly, “you could be lying. You could really be right-handed. Most people are.”

      He straightened and laughed. It was a deep, rolling laugh that filled the lab. “Your logic is faultless.” He held her distrustful gaze. “You know, you ought to think about working for Perseus. They could use someone like you. You think like a marine.”

      Shah fought to shake off his sudden and unexpected laughter. She saw the light dancing in his gray eyes, as if he truly enjoyed their repartee. Her hands were sweaty, and the gun was heavy. Shah hated guns, but they were a way of life down here in the Amazon. “If that’s supposed to be a compliment, then I don’t accept it. Now, push that gun away with the toe of your boot.”

      Jake gave the Beretta a healthy shove, and the pistol slid across the wooden floor. He watched as Shah started to move toward it. If he was going to get her to realize he wasn’t her enemy, he had to earn her trust.

      “Don’t you want me to put my knife on the floor and kick it away, too?”

      Shah halted and frowned. “Yes—I guess so. Do it—please.”

      “Right or left hand?”

      There was amusement in his eyes, and Shah knew he was playing her for a fool. “When you get done laughing at me, you can use your right hand.”

      “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

      “Really?”

      Jake placed the knife on the floor. “It’s rude to laugh at people. At least that’s what my mother taught me.”

      “Then what did I see in your eyes?”

      “Admiration.”

      Shah watched him kick the knife away. It landed near the pistol. This Randolph stymied her. “Now you stay still while I pick up your weapons,” she told him. “One move and I’ll blow your head off.”

      Jake didn’t believe Shah’s blustering. To disarm her distrust of him, he said, “I admire your courage under the circumstances. Not many women would be living in the Amazon jungle alone.” She was shaken, he could tell, and he saw the pistol tremble in her hand. Carefully she moved toward his weapons, all the while keeping her gun trained on him.

      With the toe of her boot, Shah kicked the weapons beneath the table. Finally she lowered the gun. There was a good ten feet between the two of them. “Father must have really gotten lucky snagging you. His last two tries failed miserably, so he must have put up a lot of money to hire the best kidnapper he could find—you.” She allowed the pistol to hang at her side as she wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her left hand. “Too bad he couldn’t have put all that wasted money into a nice donation to save the rain forest here, instead. But then, he wouldn’t do that.”

      “He’s sent two other teams down here to kidnap you?” Jake asked. There was indignation in his voice—and anger, too. He and Morgan instinctively hadn’t trusted Travers. Now he was beginning to understand why.

      Wearily Shah leaned against the wall, tense and on guard.

      “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time talking with you. I’ve got a million things to do. Just stand up and go back down to the wharf. I’ll have Red Feather take you by canoe to the nearest village where the tugs dock when they’re working for Hernandez, pushing the logs down the river.”

      “I don’t want to go.”

      Her spine stiffened, and she glared at him. “You don’t have a choice!”

      “Sure I do.” Jake held up his hands in a peace-making gesture. “I’m not here to kidnap

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