A strange man was trying to get into her hotel room.

She saw he had a gun.

Her gut instinct said to run the hell away from him, but inside that room was the only weapon she had to save her father’s life and many others. She couldn’t leave it.

Dropping into a fighting stance, she waited.

The man gave her a look like she was crazy and raised his gun. She lashed out with a kick aimed at his weapon arm. His arm jerked out of position, and a bullet ricocheted off the wall six inches from her.

She didn’t stop.

He fell to the floor. Jane kicked him once more, then hurried past him. Fumbling to open her hotel door, she rushed in and slammed it closed behind her, then reached for the phone to call security.

Someone was clearly after her – and her antidote. But who?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Katherine Garbera has had fun working as a production page, lifeguard, secretary and VIP tour guide, but those occupations pale when compared to creating worlds where women save the day and wounded hearts are healed. Writing romantic suspense novels is the perfect job for her. She’s always had a vivid imagination and believes strongly in happily-ever-after. She’s married to the man she met in Walt Disney World’s Fantasyland. They live in Central Florida with their two children. Readers can visit her on the web at www.katherinegarbera.com.

Deadly Desire

KATHERINE GARBERA

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to my sisters,

Linda Beardsley and Donna Sutermeister, who

shared many journeys all over the world from

our backyard – too bad that tunnel to

China never paid off! Thanks for the good

times and great memories!

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Dr John Walden, who was so generous with his time and knowledge of the Amazon. Any mistakes are my own.

Thanks also to Dr Michael Miller, who answered my questions on infectious diseases and virology. Again, any mistakes are my own.

Special thanks to Eve Gaddy, Nancy Robards Thompson and Beverly Brandt, who were my cheerleaders! And to Matt who is always so supportive and believes in me when I start to doubt.

Chapter 1

Dr. Jane Miller, virus hunter.

The words echoed in her head as she exited the elevator in the bowels of the Centers for Disease Control headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. Entering the deepest part of the building always made her feel like some sort of superspy. Maybe it was the fact that security was as tight here as it was at the White House.

Whatever the reason, she always heard the 007 theme in the back of her head as she moved through the hallways. She passed by labs that worked with lower-level infections, such as a new strand of the flu, before reaching steel-reinforced doors with a sophisticated security scanner. The security guard smiled at her. He’d worked at the lab for about a year now.

“Good evening, Dr. Miller.”

“Hello, Stan.”

He had a nice face. He was a doting grandfather who’d embodied all the things she’d always kind of longed for when she thought of family, but had never found. “Working late again?”

“You know how I am when I get a new problem to work on.” She didn’t say anything else, leery that he might inadvertently pass along the fact that she was doing research on something sent to her by her father. Doctor Rob Miller was persona non grata as far as the CDC was concerned.

He nodded at her. “But it’s been three months and you’re still working eighteen-hour days. You’re always warning me about the effects of exhaustion.”

The truth was, she was burning the candle at both ends hoping that what she’d discovered was somehow an error. “I know, but this time…I just feel like I need to work on this project around the clock.”

“We’re used to emergencies,” he said.

She shrugged. How could she explain to him what she didn’t really understand herself? She only knew that the virus her father had sent her needed her attention. She’d received the samples almost too long ago—in the world of infectious viruses, three months could be a lethal amount of time.

She remembered when she’d received the plainly wrapped brown package. It had seemed innocent enough, but she’d recognized the angular handwriting on the outside and opened it with trepidation. Anything from her father was suspect. The CDC and her dad went way back, but the relationship was no longer one that either side liked to acknowledge.

Why had he sent it to her?

Jane flashed her badge at the reader on the wall. Then she removed her glasses and leaned forward for the eye scan. She didn’t like it, but had gotten used to it. Finally she could withstand the laser scan without blinking. The doors opened and she stepped through.

She slipped her glasses back on and noticed the biohazard warning sign that stood next to the door to the women’s locker room. She entered the facility and changed from her street clothes into scrubs. In order to enter the lab, everything had to be removed from the skin out. Jane changed as quickly as possible.

She then made her way to a second set of scanners. Adrenaline and nerves warred for control of her body. Adrenaline won. It had been a long time since she’d had anything new in her hands. Once the doors opened, she stepped inside the ultraviolet-light chamber and waited a moment before exiting. She paused again, preparing to enter the level 3 labs.

She flashed her badge one more time. Security had always been tight at the CDC and with the ever-present threat of biological warfare looming on the horizon, it had grown even tighter in recent years. The guard at this station was new and he took her ID badge and read every bit of information on it. He also had her remove her glasses for him.

She knew what he saw. A rather average-looking woman with curly red hair. In her ID photo, it looked darker, almost auburn. Her eyes were wide-set and the exact same warm brown color as her mother’s had been. Jane herself had no real memory of her mother’s eyes, but her father had mentioned it often enough when she’d been a girl.

Finally, she entered a holding area that contained the space suits. She went to her stall and pulled on the one that had her name emblazoned on it.

She exited the room and walked a short distance to the decon—decontamination—showers, which brushed over her. Then she pressed her thumb to a keypad and the door opened. “Welcome, Dr. Miller.”

The computer voice reminded her a little of the Star Trek computer. Maybe it was the space suits, but she always felt as if she’d left this world and was on a journey to another one when she stepped into the lab.

Small windowed doors lined the hall. Jane didn’t bother reading name tags or signs of what the scientists inside were working on. She kept moving until she reached her lab. Her area of expertise was Ebola, and she’d recently finished working with a new strand of the virus that had shown up in the Sudan.

Ebola was reliable and she knew what to expect. But this thing her father had sent—it was a mystery. The puzzle was still a jumble in her mind and on her microscope slide. But she felt in her gut that she was getting closer to figuring everything out.

She swiped her badge through the scanner and the door unlocked. She walked inside, hitting the light switch with her elbow. Her lab looked like every other one on this level. Long countertops lined the walls and a small office area was in the back. She could just make out her Johnny Depp poster, which hung on her large bulletin board next to the Dilbert cartoons that her college roommate, Sophia, had sent to her.

There was a sophisticated replicating machine on the end of the counter and a freezer to keep samples at the proper temperature until she was ready to use them. The freezer currently held samples of her father’s blood as well as the blood of a Yura tribesman.

The Yura were a tribe native to the Amazon. Some of them lived in Bolivia, but her father had spent the last few years with a group who lived near Manu in Peru’s Amazon basin. Their lifestyle had changed little in generations save for the introduction of modern weapons such as rifles. They still lived off the bounty of the rain forest and whatever the Amazon River and its tributaries provided.

Jane had been working with the blood samples as well as medication her father had sent and monitoring the effects of the primitive treatment.

She took the clipboard from the wall and wrote Blood samples from South America and the day’s date. She didn’t mention the Yura tribe or Dr. Rob Miller. Three damned months and finally she was getting closer to finding an inoculation that worked. She’d decided to mutate the local remedy her father had sent, a powder made from bark and leaves, to see if that would work. Today she’d find out.

The powder from the bark wasn’t a treatment. A treatment in the world of viruses was a way of stopping the virus. Kind of like a cure. But because of the nature of infectious diseases, virologists didn’t use the word cure. As soon as it was uttered, a new mutation would show up.

She’d noticed that the bark wasn’t a treatment after she’d administered a dose of the powder to the infected blood sample. It slowed the activity of the virus, but the virus returned to full strength one week later.

Jane had used her blood samples to start a colony of the mystery virus in the petri dishes. An application of the bark powder had initially slowed the spread of the virus through the petri dish, but within a week, the virus was flourishing.

The leaf used to make the remedy was related to the coca plant, which was used in the making of cocaine. Jane suspected that the side effects were more than just relief from pain.

There were no real healing properties in the plant. This meant that anyone using this remedy wouldn’t live. They’d alleviate the symptoms for a time, and wouldn’t be in pain while the disease spread throughout their body, but the virus would win in the end.

“Hey, Jane,” a man said, from her doorway.

Jane glanced up to see Tom Macmillan, another scientist who worked on her floor. What the hell was he doing here? She didn’t want anyone in her lab on the off chance it would get out that her father was involved in her current project.

Tom was an expert who worked with E. coli. He’d spent four years working in a monkey house in Africa, studying the multigenerational effect of the disease.

“What’s up, Tom?” she asked. Everyone was really too busy to ever just hang out and chat in the labs.

“This came for you. Since I was coming back to start work, I told Angie I’d bring it.”

Jane reached for the package and saw the same angular handwriting that had been on the last package from her dad. Her heart stopped for a second. The situation with the Yura must be escalating if he’d sent something else.

“Do you know what that is?” he asked.

Jane debated for a second, but being evasive would only raise his suspicion. “Some samples I was asked to consult on by a virologist currently living in Peru.”

“Infectious?” Tom asked. He was a little geeky, but sexy in his own way. Tall and lanky, he wore horn-rimmed glasses that looked good on him. His eyes were hazel and changed color sometimes with his moods.

Right now his eyes were the swirling gray-green of the Atlantic when a hurricane stirs through—excitement, she realized. He stared at the clipboard in her hands.

He loved it when they got a new disease. And he wasn’t the only one. There was a reason why they all worked back here, away from the public. Why they spent so much time in the lab. They all were obsessed with watching life change in their petri dishes. There was nothing quite like taking a potentially big biological threat and reducing it to nothing.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been trying to find a treatment. This must be some new blood samples.”

“Want some help?” he asked. He rubbed his gloved hands together as he stepped into her lab.

“Don’t you have your own work to do?” She was reluctant to involve anyone else in this project until she had a firmer grasp on what her dad had sent.

“Yes, but I needed a break. I’m missing something and staring at the strand I’m working with isn’t helping. Maybe solving your problem will help me,” Tom said.

“Solving my problem? Tom, you do have a God complex.”

“Ha. Stop teasing me. I know you’ve been working around the clock in here. You need some fresh eyes.”

He was right. She went to her office and returned a minute later with the note from her dad.

“This is all I’ve got to work with,” she said, handing the note to him. “So far I’ve analyzed the viral strain and it is definitely lethal. I tried all common treatments but they didn’t work. Yesterday I mutated a strain of the local remedy—a powder from this tree—and let it incubate. I’m ready to test it.”

Tom read the note. Jane already knew it by heart. She tried to keep her expression impassive.

Jane—not sure what this is, but the Yura are infected by it and so far two have died. I tried to contact the disease control office in Lima but they weren’t interested. Local practices forbid examining the deceased and the bodies were burned. I was able to get this blood sample from an infected male. I’ve also sent mine to compare it with. The symptoms include fevers, hemorrhaging, swelling, shock and convulsions. I’m enclosing the local treatment. The bark and leaf are ground together to make a paste and then ingested. The treatment relieves symptoms for a 48-hour period before it has to be ingested again.—Dad

He’d included the coordinates of the tribe’s location in the jungles of Peru. She’d already tracked the location on her own GPS unit.

“Rob Miller sent this letter. Is that from him, too?”

“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate. If he was like half the other scientists at the CDC, he’d leave now. Instead he just watched her.

“What’d he send this time?”

She went to a low workbench and opened the desktop freezer. Blood samples were submitted to the lab in a frozen form, something that had bugged her about her dad’s original package. Where had her dad found a facility to do this kind of work? Especially since he mentioned that the CDC office in Lima hadn’t been cooperative.

And if he’d had a lab do the freezing, why hadn’t he stuck around to analyze the samples?

His first package had contained the Yura blood sample and a second, her father’s, as an uninfected sample from the same environment. He’d included a piece of tree bark with a small bud and leaf still attached—the local remedy—and an insect. Possible carrier, the label in her father’s handwriting said. Jane had spent the last few months analyzing the organic medicine and hoped to find some answers soon.

She’d called a peer at the World Health Organization in South America to check on the strain, but he’d assured her that there was nothing to worry about. He’d heard the rumors. They’d taken samples and conducted interviews in a village along the Amazon.

If the government officials were saying not to worry, she could be opening a can of worms. The World Health Organization and the CDC would both have consulted with the Peruvian government.

She was cautious by nature. She opened the new package. It was packaged the same way the original one was. Only this time the note on the packaging was labeled, Male Caucasian, 55 years old, Rob Miller.

Another sample of her father’s blood. Her heart beat just a little faster. Did he suspect he’d been infected? Oh, man. He’d better not be infected.

She still had a lot of things to say to the man. And…she pushed the thoughts aside. Now she was going to have to test his blood sample. She wished Tom wasn’t here.

There wasn’t anything she could do about it now. Find a treatment, then worry about her father.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” Tom said, taking the sample and going to a microscope in the corner.

“Each day, I’ve been checking the blood sample. I’ve administered the powder from this tree bark, which works as a temporary relief of this virus. But so far the change in the growth pattern in the petri dish doesn’t resemble a treatment.”

“I wonder if the insect is the carrier? It could have been a primate. Did the letter indicate?” Tom asked.

She glanced at him. “No. He wasn’t sure what carried the disease, just sent this little wasp as a possibility. I’ve been concentrating on trying to isolate the virus and figure out what it is. If it’s something we’ve already identified and can treat. I’ve been varying the sample treatment with known treatments for differing fevers found in the region.”

“What’d he send this time?”

“His own blood sample. He included his with the first package to show a healthy test had been conducted. But this new sample means…”

“He thinks he might be infected. Want me to check it? He is your father.”

Did she really want Tom to do this for her? Hell, no. She’d do it. “No. Why don’t you take a look at these two slides, see what the treated and untreated blood looks like.” She pointed to the slides containing the Yura tribesmen’s samples.

Tom reached around her for the two samples before moving across the room to the other long lab table. “Let’s crack this case wide open.”

She smiled at him, trying to make sure he’d think this was a normal reaction. Trying not to let him see that she was afraid for once of the knowledge she’d always taken such pride in.

“God, you are too corny for words. Good thing you chose to go into science.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, arching one eyebrow at her.

“Any other profession wouldn’t tolerate your eccentricities.”

“Sure it would. I’m brilliant, and that kind of raises the tolerance bar,” Tom said.

“Not far enough.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I like you, Jane.”

“Thanks, Tom. Let’s get to work.”

Tom took his sample to a corner of the lab and Jane went to work. The space-suit gloves were for her protection, but she didn’t like to use them. If she’d been alone in the lab she would have shed them. But she couldn’t with Tom here, so she worked with them on.

She took her time preparing the electron microscope, a fully computerized technological wonder that took up as much room in her lab as her large desk did. Finally, her father’s blood was being shot by the microscope’s “gun,” the lens focusing on objects too small for the most powerful light microscope to magnify. The computer screen finally showed her a photo of the tiniest of objects: a virus. Blood rushed in her ears and spots danced in front of her eyes. She reached behind her for support against the countertop.

“Jane? You okay?”

She shook her head and forced down the bile rising in the back of her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. Let me compare this with the one you’re looking at.”

She concealed the panic and pain and infinite sadness that rose through her like a wave.

Tom didn’t say anything, just stepped back out of the way. She ordered the computer to remove the sample. She studied the slide, adjusting the light. With this level of magnification it was easier to see the infection.

Saying nothing to Tom, she inserted a new sample.

She adjusted her glasses and glanced down. The cells began to take shape on the computer screen as she searched. Slowly it came into focus.

Jane’s dad was infected with the same virus that was killing the Yura. And it was fatal.

“Where’s the modified bark treatment you made?” Tom asked.

Jane stared at him. In her mind she saw every en counter she’d had with her father.

“Jane?”

“I’m sorry. I’m a little upset.”

“I can see that. What can I do to help?”

She looked back at the slide again, this time as a scientist and not as a daughter. She looked at the cells and how they’d replicated. It seemed similar to Lassa fever, which was diagnosed by analyzing the platelets.

“Yes. Fine. Let’s try the treatment.” Jane left Tom and went to the refrigerator where she’d stored the batch from yesterday. This was the third mutation of a possible treatment she’d made.

She returned to Tom and administered a drop of it, praying it would work. She did the same thing with the other infected sample. Then, using a healthy blood sample of her own, she tried the treatment she’d culled from the same mutated strain.

“Well, well, well. You didn’t need me after all, Jane.”

She looked at the computer screen with Tom and saw that the new mutated treatment was indeed isolating and destroying the virus.

“I need to talk to Meredith and then call the director of the lab in Lima.”

Tom said nothing else. “I’ll run a test to see how long the treatment will stop the virus.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

Jane left the lab slowly, not wanting Tom to see her inward panic, but she walked as fast as she could. She barely tolerated the decon shower. She pressed her thumb to the keypad to activate the door. “Good day, Dr. Miller.”

Jane sprinted to her locker, stripping the space suit from her body as she moved. She dumped the space suit in the environmental cleaning bin and tugged on her jeans. Dammit, why the hell had she worn a button-down shirt today? She struggled to get her arms into the shirt and started buttoning it before she realized the damned thing was twisted.

She closed her eyes. Her hands were trembling and she knew she had to focus. This wasn’t helping anyone. She pulled the shirt off and calmly put it on correctly.

She flashed her badge at the new security guard and he keyed the door. She dashed down the corridor to the retinal scanner. Pulled off her glasses and bent to be scanned.

The door popped open and she forced herself to walk slowly through it. Stan waved at her as she emerged. She waved back. The urgency riding her was intense but her steps slowed as she neared her boss’s office. How was she going to explain that her father had once again stumbled onto a fatal virus?

Meredith Redding had been with the CDC for more than twenty years. Jane remembered meeting her for the first time when she did a project for her sixth-grade science fair. Meredith hadn’t looked like Jane had expected her father’s peer to look. With her straight blond hair and model-perfect features, Meredith was the type of woman people often assumed had more looks than smarts. But Meredith quickly disabused them of that notion.

She’d been very helpful and encouraging to Jane. The relationship had maintained that mentor-type balance until Jane had received her degree and taken a job at the CDC.

“What can I do for you, Jane?”

Honestly, she had no idea where to start. She took a deep breath. “I just had a breakthrough with the treatment I’ve been searching for on the virus my father sent. Did you get anywhere with the office in South America?”

Meredith pursed her lips. Then she swiveled her chair and stood.

“I’ve found a treatment that works in our initial testing. Tom is running a test on the treatment to see how long it is potent. The virus looks similar to Lassa fever, but it’s more dangerous and this new treatment is the only one that has worked on it.”

“Damn. Are you sure?”

Jane realized she was staking her reputation to her father’s, an action that had proven disastrous in the past for other virologists. “As positive as I can be in the lab.”

“If any other virologist sent it…”

“I know. But the fact that he did send it makes me want to take it seriously.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Meredith asked.

If anyone else had asked, Jane would have kept her mouth shut. She would have never even mentioned Rob Miller’s name. But Meredith was the one person in the CDC, heck maybe in the world who’d understand the complications that surrounded her and her father. “One of the samples was Dad’s.”

Meredith flushed. “Is he infected?”

Jane clenched her hands in tight fists. Swallowing against her dry mouth, she said, “Yes.”

Meredith sank back down in her chair. She and Rob had been friends and maybe more ten years ago. Then when she’d been promoted, he’d left Atlanta and gone to Belgium to work on the AIDS-HIV project. Jane didn’t know what had happened between them, but watching Meredith now, she suspected there was still some connection.

“What do you want to do?” Meredith asked after a few minutes had passed.

“Call the office in South America and get them to move on this. I can send them my research and then they can…” Jane broke off. Meredith was shaking her head.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve contacted them. They are sure that there is no danger of a hot-zone outbreak. In fact, they insisted we stop trying to tell them they had one.”

“Just ask them to visit the Yura.”

“A three-man team visited a village near the Yura—Puerto Maldonado—and conducted interviews and obtained samples. No one is infected.”

“The samples are definitely infected.”

“I know that you think they are.”

Jane looked at her boss with new eyes. “What are you saying?”

“That I can’t authorize you going down there.”

“Well, I’m going. Lives are at stake—my dad’s life is at stake. I know you have bosses and they aren’t going to like it, but I’m not sitting on this.”

Meredith closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “I can give you a week. But you’ll need to be on a leave of absence.”

Jane had never felt so angry before, but she understood where Meredith was coming from. Discoveries like the one she’d made were worth a lot of money. Both the State Department and the Peruvian government worked very closely with each other. “I need at least ten days. It’s going to take me a few days to get everything in place.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll need equipment to take with me, and some backup.” Jane couldn’t do it on her own. It was stupid to go into the rain forest without someone at her side.

“I can’t give you anyone from the CDC. But I have some contacts in the private sector that might be able to help you.”

Meredith didn’t look happy, and Jane prayed she made it to her dad before her boss pulled the plug. There were times when working for the CDC really chafed.

Jane stood and walked to the door. Already her mind was busy with everything she needed to do. And knowing she’d have to do it alone gave her a new appreciation for her father and the work he’d done. How many times had her old man come up against this kind of corporate maneuvering and come out on the other side the winner?

“Jane?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Meredith. There was something different in her boss and old friend’s eyes. Something Jane wasn’t sure she wanted to recognize.

“Be careful.”

Jane walked out the door. She planned to be more than careful. She planned to come back to Atlanta with a major success behind her.

“I will.”

Chapter 2

Jane sank deeper into her office chair and tried to organize her thoughts. If she was going to survive and save lives she needed a plan.

The images from the slides still flickered through her mind. Along with some nasty images from a death she’d viewed earlier in the year of a man who’d been infected with a similar virus. The man had been on an extreme vacation with his college buddies and had sustained a jagged cut on his hand while mountain climbing. He’d fallen while they’d been trekking down the mountain and wiped his hand on a leaf that had contained the microscopic bug. The bug had entered his bloodstream and seventy-two hours later he’d died.

In her mind’s eye, though, instead of the hiker, she saw her dad’s face. She shivered and forced the image from her head, focusing instead on what she knew. Her dad was infected with a lethal virus. This was her chance to save him. Her chance to do the one thing she’d always vowed she wouldn’t do—go after him.

He’d been leaving her most of her life. He’d left her with her mother when Mary Miller had still been alive. Then he’d left her with her grandparents—his parents—after her mom had died. Mary had died of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. As a ten year old, Jane had blamed the Amazon for her mother’s death. She’d only cried once. When Rob Miller had warned her that crying solved nothing and was the weakest of the female traits, she’d worked hard never to cry again. And she’d vowed that, if he ever needed her, she wouldn’t be there.

Hell, she’d been a kid and a petty one at that. Her heart wouldn’t let her stick to that vow. Her dad needed her, and she was going.

She didn’t want to think about him being sick. He’d always been a big bear of a man. A huge guy who was unstoppable. Even the scandal with the CDC couldn’t keep him down. He’d dropped out of sight for a year, but then he’d shown up in South America, where he’d been living with the Yura tribe.

She rubbed the back of her neck. Peru. Damn. She really hated South America. She didn’t like the heat and it would be damned hot in April, and wet. The humidity would feel like a living blanket. She didn’t like the men, who were macho in the extreme and seemed to think that every woman who walked the street was in need of one of them to watch over her…to protect her.

She knew how to survive in the jungle. Had spent the first ten years of her life living with hunter-gatherer tribes. Her mother had been an anthropologist. And the truth of the matter was she was used to hot, humid weather. She lived in the South.

The real reason she didn’t like South America was it held too many memories of things that weren’t anymore. Things and people who’d left her life. She wasn’t ready to add her father’s name to the list.

For backup this trip, she’d contacted a group of independent virologists—Rebel Virology. Jane had worked with the group before. They were all well-respected but independent virologists who couldn’t stand bureaucracy and now worked for themselves. She opened an e-mail from them and scanned it quickly. Upon arriving in Peru, she should look for either Maria Cortez or Mac Coleman.

She hoped her partner would be Maria, whom she’d worked with years ago at the CDC. Maria was smart and funny and Jane got along well with her.

She hadn’t met Mac Coleman, but he had a reputation for being a maverick. In fact, he’d founded Rebel Virology. He’d worked with the World Health Organization and had been on his way to the top of his career, but had left for bureaucratic reasons. And scientists who were tired of working within the government structure had applauded him. But a few years later, in Southeast Asia, he’d had a fiasco that had led to the deaths of twenty-five people. She’d heard that he’d rushed to treatment and lost lives.

Jane rubbed the back of her neck. There were no details on the incident. She knew mistakes were made by both virologists and governments and she wasn’t judging him.

She checked the laminated maps she’d stopped at Kinkos to make on her way home. The jungle wasn’t kind to paper. She had a compass, a Blackberry phone with GPS unit that would work even in the depths of the jungle and two backups. She had a lethal hunting blade that her grandfather had given her. He’d been a Marine and had reinforced to Jane every summer when she saw him to always be prepared.

She packed rice, rice cakes and her favorite cereal bars. She brought the tea she loved so much in a metal canister that she knew might rust if she stayed too long in the jungle. She had medicine, as well, in a separate pack, treatments for a long list of diseases.

The phone rang. She glanced at the clock. She was waiting for a call from Angie, her assistant, who was making all of the arrangements for the trip. “Dr. Miller.”

“Jane, it’s Raul Veracruz.”

Jane held the phone away from her ear. Had she conjured him up by thinking about her father? “What can I do for you?” she asked. It had been a long time since she’d heard from him. Three years, in fact. The day her father had left the CDC.

“Meredith contacted me about some research you were doing,” he said.

Maybe Raul would be interested in helping her. “I found the information I needed here in the lab while working with the samples.”

“Who sent the samples to you?” he asked.

“A virologist living with the Yura.”

“Your dad?” he asked.

She hesitated. Raul had once been Rob’s assistant and the two men had been friends. For a brief time Jane had been involved with him. But that hadn’t lasted. Like most of her personal relationships, theirs had ended because she hadn’t found him as interesting as the specimens in her lab. “Yes.”

“Jane, I talked to him already. I personally analyzed the samples he had. They were clean. No sign of any virus.”

“The ones I received were infected, Raul.”

“Who are you going to trust?” he asked.

Jane doodled on her blotter and changed the topic. “What are you doing now? You’re not with the CDC anymore.”

“That’s right. I’m working for Thompson-Marks Pharmaceutical.”

“Research and development?”

“Yes. I like it. It’s challenging and it pays well. Why don’t you come and join me in their labs?”

“No, thanks. I like where I am.”

“There’s a lot more freedom to work on the projects that are important.”

“And the CDC doesn’t?”

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Someone knocked on the door of her lab.

“Please think twice about revealing anything your father may have sent you to others, Jane. You know he’s done some…creative tampering before.”

“I will. Goodbye, Raul.” Jane hung up the phone and went to the door. It was Angie Tanner, her secretary, lab assistant and research guru.

The short, dark-haired woman wouldn’t enter the actual lab even dressed as she was in a full-body space suit. Jane thought it was kind of funny. Angie had spent the last twenty-five years working for the CDC and had in fact been her father’s assistant in the early days. Her smile was friendly and she loved her job. And she was completely paranoid about germs.

“I’ve finalized all the arrangements for you. The area you want to go into is only accessible by air.”

Angie was ultraefficient and a real wizard when it came to bringing together the details of an operation. She was a top-notch researcher and interviewer and Jane trusted her implicitly. “I know. That’s why I asked you to hire a small plane. Why don’t you come in my office and join me for a cup of tea?”

“Because I happen to like being healthy. I tried to get you a flight to La Paz, but they didn’t have anything leaving tomorrow, and Meredith wouldn’t approve using the CDC plane.”

Angie’s phobia about her health was something of a joke amongst those who worked with her. She kept a huge bottle of vitamin C tablets on her desk and popped them like candy throughout the day. “Meredith doesn’t really want me to go,” Jane said. Angie probably was risking her position by helping Jane out.

“She has to answer to her own conscience,” Angie said, handing Jane a plastic wallet portfolio. “Here are the rest of your papers. You’re going to be parachuting into the jungle. I called in a favor from a buddy of mine in the military.”

“Okay,” Jane said. She loved parachuting and had a lot of experience. The jungles of the Amazon basin would be perfect for skydiving. If it weren’t for the fact that her father was in jeopardy she might actually enjoy this trip.

“I told him you know your stuff when it comes to parachuting.”

“Thanks. I’m not so sure about the virologist who’ll be joining me.”

“I only made travel arrangements for you,” Angie said in a surly voice.

“Can you add one to the parachute jump?” Jane asked, knowing that once Angie made her plans or finished her research she didn’t like to have to go back and change it.

“I’ll try.”

“Thanks. Did you get the guide I requested?” Jane asked. Going into the jungle alone was asking for trouble.

“Yes. He’ll meet you at the private airstrip on the morning of your sky dive.”

“Thanks, Angie. Can I ask you to do one more thing for me?” Jane asked.

“What?”

“Will you check into the research the Peruvian government has done on this disease? According to everyone I talked to, it’s not lethal.”

“What do you want to know?” Angie asked.

“Who did the testing and interviews and when they were conducted.”

“Is that it?”

“For now.”

“Be careful, Jane, even virus hunters aren’t immune to death.”

It was almost two in the afternoon by the time Jane arrived in Lima two days later. Tired, hungry and anxious to get to work, she made her way toward her hotel. The air was hot, humid and blanketed the city in the kind of haze that often covered Los Angeles. She closed her eyes and tried to breath. But the air was hot. It burned her lungs.

In a way it was invigorating. The one thing that she liked, though she hated to admit it, about South America was that you still had the feeling of having to fight to survive. That life was brought in on its most simplistic terms. Here it really was survival of the fittest.

But she had no time to enjoy it. She was here on a mission and every second she delayed she risked losing another life.

Now she was here in Lima—the clock was officially starting to tick. Meredith was giving her one week. One measly week after eight years of always doing what she was told. Fear of failure weighed heavily on her. It was an odd feeling and not one she liked to admit she experienced.

The treatment and the vaccine were loaded into a galvanized-steel reinforced trunk with wheels and a handle. She towed it behind her through the hotel lobby. She had a meeting with Rebel Virology in a little over an hour in the lobby of her hotel.

She needed to switch the glass vials and their protective packaging into bags that would make it easier to carry them through the jungle. And she desperately wanted a cool shower.

The lobby was full of artifacts from Macchu Pichu. The site, north of the city, was accessible by a multi-day hike or a train or bus ride. Jane paused in front of a lighted alcove displaying an artist’s rendering of the Temple of the Sun. She felt small in relation to her place in time.

Working in virology and making case studies gave her a link to realizing how short time was. And how little things had changed. Modern developments in science made the epidemics of yesterday obsolete in some parts of the world, but viruses and germs always found a way to mutate in order to survive.

Not on my watch.

“Hola, Jane.”

She tensed and glanced up from the artwork. Raul Veracruz stood behind her. She could see him reflected in the glass. He held a white hat in one hand and a cigar in the other. His dark hair was trimmed close to his head. He had a mustache now and when she turned toward him, he smiled at her.

“I didn’t think to see you so soon,” he said in his accented English. His voice was meant to seduce and despite that knowledge she had to admit she still liked the warm sound of it.

“I’m surprised you’re here. How did you know where I was staying?” she asked. He hadn’t exactly sounded as if he wanted to see her down here. She wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d get from him.

“It wasn’t that hard to find you. I have friends in government.”

“Why were you looking for me?” she asked, a little unnerved that the government knew where she was. She needed to stop being so freaking jumpy about everything. She gave Raul a bland smile.

“I’m hoping to convince you to change your mind about going to the Amazon basin. Can you join me for a drink?”

She glanced at her watch. She didn’t want to have this conversation but saw no graceful way out of it. “I can give you five minutes.”

“Only five minutes for an old…friend?”

If he was only an old friend and not a former lover she wouldn’t feel so awkward. And she might have given in. But she didn’t know what Raul wanted, and for a man who hadn’t talked to her in years, he was suddenly very interested in her.

“Come to Atlanta, Raul, and I’ll give you all the time you want.” In fact in a week’s time she’d sit down for half the day with him. But not now. Now she wanted to keep moving, not be slowed down with chitchat.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked, putting his hand at her elbow as they walked through the lobby toward the reception desk.

“I need to check the vaccine and treatment.” Though the vials containing the vaccine and treatment were packed in dry ice and then Styrofoam, there was still a chance of breakage. She’d checked it at the airport but wanted to get it open and make sure everything was still in the frozen state.

“Tell me about your find,” he said.

She couldn’t. Meredith would kill her. She probably shouldn’t have mentioned her results to him on the phone, either. She was a little tired from flying for so long. Lima was on Eastern Standard Time so there was no time change to blame.

She shook her head. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on.”

“A new product to treat a potential problem on the Brazilian border. Keeping that border open is vital to the economy of Peru and to the village I grew up in.”

“What kind of problem?” she asked. Did the virus she’d looked at have a mutated strain already? Was it related to the one she’d found and isolated? And how was this virus passed?

“A virus that brings on a paralytic reaction,” he said.

“Like polio?” she asked. Actually it could even be polio. Although it had been wiped out in the U.S., it hadn’t been eradicated worldwide.

“Yes.”

“Well, good luck. I’m going to be down that way. If you’d like, when I’m finished with the Yura, I can check out your site. Maybe do some interviews.”

Interviews were vital to virologists. Jane would go into an infected area and talk to locals. She’d observe eating habits, water and sewage conditions—basic daily life. Then samples of blood and saliva would be analyzed. The final report gave her and other virologists an accurate picture of a virus and its environment.

Raul gave her an odd look, and then shook his head. “I’ve got it under control. But thanks for the offer.”

“No problem. I better go check in. It was nice seeing you, Raul.”

“Jane?”

“What?”

“I’m…not sure you should trust your dad.”

The change in subject surprised her. “I’ve seen the blood, and it’s definitely infected. Do you want to see the initial report?”

“No. I’m not saying that there isn’t something out there. Hell, we both know that hot zones pop up all over the place. It’s just going to make everything harder because your dad’s involved.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked.

“That we quarantine your dad and the tribe and then let my team make the first discovery.”

“What do you mean, your team? I thought you worked for a pharmaceutical company.”

“I do. And we’re interested in helping the people of Peru,” Raul said. “I only made the suggestion because putting Dr. Miller on any finding is bound to raise some questions.”

“My reputation is a solid one. And putting my name on any report isn’t going to jeopardize it.”

Raul stepped back into the shadows, and she couldn’t see his face. She walked away from him with a cheerful wave, but deep inside she was worried. Two outbreaks in the same area didn’t bode well.

Mentally she reviewed what she knew about the area. She hadn’t been paying close attention to world news. Were they doing any construction there? Sometimes clearing the land stirred up diseases that had been lying dormant in the heart of the jungle. She’d grab the local paper and use her rusty Spanish to find out what was going on in the Amazon basin.

What had they uncovered, and was it seeking bodies as carriers to spread itself out of the jungle?

Twenty minutes later she was sitting in the hotel bar relaxing as much as she could. She’d hated leaving the vials in her room, but they should be safe for an hour behind a locked door.

“Jane Miller?”

She glanced up to see a dark man with thick hair and more than one day’s worth of stubble on his face. He was tall and lean and looked as if he’d been living in a rough area of the world for a while. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and he wore khaki clothes that were worn and looked comfortable. His voice was a low rumble.

“Yes.”

“Mac Coleman, Rebel Virology.”

She stood and shook his hand. It was warm and dry, calloused on the ridge of his palm. He tightened it briefly and then let her hand drop. Jane sat back down and waited for him to do the same. She hoped her disappointment that Maria hadn’t made it instead didn’t show. Her earlier doubts about him crept into her mind.

He removed his sunglasses. His eyes were a light blue color at odds with his dark coloring. His pupils dilated adjusting to the light. Jane wondered if he had problems with light sensitivity.

He quirked one eyebrow at her. Oops, caught staring. “Do you have any problems with sensitivity?”

“To a beautiful woman staring at me? No.”

She shook her head. “Not that. I meant to the light. Your eyes are so pale…”

“Some, but not much. The glasses help, and unless I have prolonged exposure without some sort of shield, then I’m fine.”

He signaled the cocktail waitress and ordered a local beer for himself. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have the same,” Jane said, adjusting the frame of her glasses.

Once the waitress left an awkward silence fell between them. Jane marshaled her thoughts. She was the lead scientist here. She needed to brief him and then get some space. Something about Mac Coleman disturbed her on a very basic level that had nothing to do with virology.

Maybe the heat was to blame for her reaction. Or just being in Peru. This place always brought out all those instincts she tried to hide away with a veneer of sophistication.

“Did you have a chance to read the material I sent via e-mail?”

“Not really. I just got finished working in Belize and caught a late flight. Brief me.”

“I received some blood samples from a virologist—”

“Who?” he interrupted. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Jane wasn’t going to hide or apologize for her dad anymore. She didn’t know what had happened years ago—what had motivated her dad to behave the way he had. And was a little ashamed that she’d never asked him about it. But the Yura virus he’d sent her was a real threat and she wasn’t going to leave him out of it. If Mac had a problem with her dad, better to find out now before they left Lima. “My dad—Dr. Rob Miller.”

Mac leaned back in his chair and then nodded. “I’ve never met the man, but some of his work was legendary. Until a few years ago.”

Jane was relieved that was all Mac said. He was the first person not to ask if she’d double-checked all her research. She didn’t want to talk about her father’s “find” or the fact that he’d sent the U. S. into a tailspin of frantic hand-washing to stop the spread of a germ that had in the end turned out to be nothing more serious than the common cold.

“Anyway, the Yura are infected with a virus strain that produces symptoms similar to Lassa fever. After weeks in the lab I developed a treatment as well as a vaccine to protect those not already infected.”

“Did you already make it?” he asked.

She’d debated with Tom the benefits of carrying and preserving the treatment versus replicating it once she got to her father. But in the end the quickest way to save lives was to bring it with them.

“Yes, I’m carrying enough of both to take care of everyone in the tribe my father’s living with.”

“How is it packed?” he asked. There was an intensity in those pale eyes that let her know he was analyzing every fact she gave him. And though she knew little of his reputation aside from the incident in Southeast Asia, she was impressed with what she saw in him as a scientist.

“Dry ice and Styrofoam. I have a couple of large backpacks that we should be able to get everything into. I also have some lab equipment, but that breaks down pretty small.”

“When do we leave?” he asked. The waitress brought their drinks and Mac took a long draw on his, draining half the bottle in one gulp. “Bring me another.”

The waitress nodded and left. Jane took a sip of hers, savoring the coolness as the beverage slid down her throat. “I’d like to leave first thing in the morning. The batch I brought with me is only good for seven days. So we have to move quickly.”

“No problem. Where’s the jumping-off point?”

“Puerto Maldonado. I scheduled a charter flight to leave here at 6:00 a.m.,” she said.

“Amazon basin makes sense. Are we going in by river or trekking?” he asked.

Jane couldn’t get a read on him. He watched her assessingly, which made her uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted to do was have another person she couldn’t trust at her side. Yet he’d been living in South America and working there for the last few years. He had information on the geography that she didn’t. Perhaps Meredith’s attitude was affecting her perception of Mac.

“Are you familiar with the area? I’m not sure which way would be faster.”

“If we could get a motorboat, that might be quicker. Do you know where the Yura are?”

“On the Cashpajali River. It’s a tributary of the Madre de Dios. I have a general area, but nothing exact,” Jane said. She had satellite maps and her GPS unit, but Jane didn’t want to reveal the exact location of the Yura camp to anyone. She wasn’t sure who to trust and didn’t want to endanger her father and the Yura by trusting the wrong person.

“Why did you contact R.V.?” he asked.

Now for the fun part. But he had to have guessed that there was some trouble in her office if she’d contacted them. People from the CDC and WHO usually didn’t have to ask independent contractors for help in their work. The CDC had teams in place worldwide and they mobilized quickly when there was a problem. Jane resented that Meredith hadn’t trusted her enough to outweigh any doubts about her father. “We’re short-staffed. There has been some backlash from the local government. They’re refusing to believe there is any outbreak in the Amazon.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea, but my boss doesn’t want to ruffle feathers and since the initial samples and work came from my father, she can’t really go public. She agreed to let me come here, but I only have a week.”

“That pisses me off. I remember when saving lives mattered more than reputations. That’s why I formed Rebel Virology.”

“I thought it was because…” Damn, she hadn’t meant to bring up the incident.

He arched one eyebrow at her. “I don’t talk about that—ever, understood?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll meet you in the lobby at five tomorrow morning.”

He finished off his beer and took the second one from the arriving waitress, then stood and left.

Well, he wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. That didn’t matter, though, she needed another expert with her. She just hoped the man knew his stuff.

There was something about him that made her instincts itchy. She’d keep her eye on him.

Chapter 3

Jane got off the elevator on her floor. She wished they’d been able to leave tonight but it was a two-hour flight over the Andes to the Amazon basin and Bob Jones, the military pilot who Angie had arranged to fly them, had refused to do it this late in the day. Bob was actually a friend of Jane’s father. Another face from the past. She looked forward to seeing him.

A man was in the hallway apparently having trouble figuring out the key-card system. Jane fixed a small smile on her face, prepared to do her good deed and help him out.

“Hola.”

The man looked up and Jane realized he was at her door. Which explained why his key wasn’t working.

“Excuse me, that’s my room,” she said in Spanish.

“I know,” he said, moving slightly away from the door.

She saw he had a gun. Panic raced through her and she screamed, which made the man wince. Her gut instinct said to run the hell away from him but inside that room was the only weapon she had to save her father’s life and many others’. She couldn’t leave it on the chance that he’d figure out how to get into her room.

Thank God for her formerly flabby thighs and the kickboxing class she’d been taking off and on for the last two years. If only she’d attended more frequently! Dropping back into what she hoped was a strong fighting stance, she waited.

The man gave her a look as if she was crazy and raised the gun. She lashed out with a crescent kick aimed at his weapon arm and hit him, hard.

His arm jerked out of position and a bullet ricocheted off the wall six inches from her. Dust got in her eyes and nose.

She sneezed and her eyes watered, but she didn’t stop. Pivoting around, she lashed out with a spinning hook kick to the head. He brought his hands up to block her, grabbing her ankle, then brought his elbow down hard on the back of her leg. Pain shot through her. She jerked her foot free and fell back.

Breathing hard, she pushed to her feet and put her weight on her injured leg. It was tender but would hold her. He rushed her and this time she used a side kick, putting all her power behind it. She hit him hard in the gut and heard him grunt on the impact. He doubled over. Jane brought both of her hands together and hit him as hard as she could on the back of his neck with her fists.

He fell to the floor. Jane kicked him one more time in the side. She hurried past him and fumbled to open her hotel door. Finally she jerked it open and rushed in, then slammed the door shut behind her. She locked it and threw the night-security chain.

She went immediately to the phone and called the front desk. Taking a deep breath she tried to lessen the panic which had been sweeping over her. She was safe now. Or as safe as she could be for the moment.

“There’s a man with a gun in the hallway trying to break into my room. He shot at me,” she said when they answered.

“We’ll send someone up immediately.”

Panic swelled in her throat. Pawing through her suitcase, she pulled out the hunting knife her grandfather had given her and stood ready.

Her blood pounded so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. She stayed to the side of the door in the small bathroom, knowing a bullet could easily penetrate the hotel door.

She scanned the interior of the room and realized that everything was safe and untouched. Someone knocked on the door. “Hotel security, ma’am.”

She moved cautiously toward the door and looked through the peephole. The man standing there was dressed in the hotel’s colors and had its emblem on his left breast pocket. And a name tag on the right that said Pedro. She saw no sign of the man who’d threatened her with the gun.

She opened the door.

“Thanks for coming.”

“No problem. We take the security of our guests very seriously. Tell me what happened. By the time I got here he was gone.”

“He was at my door when I got off the elevator. I thought he’d mistaken my room for his, but when I spoke to him he turned, and I saw he had a gun.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw some doubt in the security officer’s eyes. She thought the story sounded strange, as well.

“Then what happened?”

I screamed, she thought. But there was no way she was saying that out loud. “He shot at me.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. But the bullet hit over here,” Jane said. God, she couldn’t believe someone had shot at her. A trembling started deep inside her. The scientist in her recognized her body’s natural reaction to the incident now that the danger had passed. But she wasn’t ready to let that show yet.

Her leg throbbed and she wanted to sit down and put some ice on it. But she’d do that later when she was alone. She showed him where it had grazed the wall. He examined the area before radioing someone else. Her Spanish wasn’t up to his rapid-fire delivery so she had no idea who he’d called.

“We’ll keep an eye on this floor. I’ll continue to investigate this area.”

The elevator pinged five minutes later and another man stepped off. “Hola, Señorita Miller. I am Jorge, the duty manager, and I am here to make sure you feel comfortable staying at our hotel. We’ve called the police.”

Jorge swept her out of the hallway and into her room. He stayed there while Jane took the opportunity to wash her face and get the dust from the ricochet from her eyes. She tied her thick red hair back in a ponytail. A glance in the mirror showed she looked every one of her thirty-three years, plus a few more.

She closed her eyes but still saw that gun pointed at her. She opened them and straightened up her toiletries. She took comfort as she always did in the familiar. She started organizing her stuff. But her hands were trembling, and her makeup spilled from its bag all over the countertop.

She started gathering the items and stopped when she touched the brightly colored compact that Sophia, her college roommate, had given her for her thirtieth birthday. A picture from Pinky and The Brain covered the lid. It was silly and frivolous. Sophia had said it was to remind Jane that life wasn’t as serious as she liked to make it.

Thirty minutes later after talking to police and assuring the manager she wouldn’t hold the hotel responsible, she was ensconced in a suite on the concierge level with a guard out front.

Propping her legs in front of her on the long, low coffee table, she adjusted the ice pack and closed her eyes. She had a tension headache building, and she wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice in coming here.

She’d feel a lot safer once she was out of the city and in the jungle, where she knew what dangers to expect.

The new room was nice but Jane couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw her father’s face. The one from childhood that had always been lined with disappointment. She sat bolt upright in bed fighting the fear that she was too late to help anyone.

She climbed out of bed and turned on the lamp. Working had always been her solace. She took comfort in it now. Powering up her laptop, she checked for messages from Angie, who was doing some comprehensive research on where the virus may have started. Jane had warned Angie that she wasn’t working in her official capacity. Angie, who’d worked with Jane for six years, had said she didn’t care.

She’d asked Angie to run a check in South America on cases involving the symptoms that her father had described. Diseases didn’t have boundaries, and from her own investigation she’d discovered that the Yura didn’t stay just in Peru. They also roamed into Brazil. That made the potential areas for the disease to spread even larger.

She had an e-mail from Angie that read:

There has been no sort of epidemic outbreak in any South American country that mirrors the symptoms you are talking about. I did find a missionary from Bolivia who contracted something similar, bleeding and hemorrhaging. He died in a skirmish with prococa planters. His body was burned. I’m following up and waiting for the interviews that were conducted in that region on this case.

Damn. This didn’t sound good.

Jane sent back a reply thanking Angie for her work and asking her to check into the land clearing that was going on to make way for the first Peruvian National Highway. That was virgin territory and a virus could have been incubating there for years. The highway would run from Cuzco to the Amazon basin. Right now the only way to get there was by air or badly rutted roads.

She shut down her computer and repacked it in her backpack, then stood and stretched. A glance at her watch showed her it was almost five and time to meet Mac in the lobby. She changed quickly into clothes that would wear well in the jungle. Khaki pants and a T-shirt covered with a long-sleeved button-down shirt. She also had a hat her father had left behind when she was a kid, and all her of her supplies.

Her phone rang. “Dr. Miller.”

“It’s Mac. The front desk won’t give me your room number,” he said, his voice husky and low as if he wasn’t awake yet.

“I had some problems yesterday and had to move.”

She gave him her room number. “I’m on my way up. I’ll bring all my gear, and we’ll get organized.”

“Great. I arranged for a taxi to be downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

He hung up. She’d finished packing her personal items and was in the process of organizing the Styrofoam packs when he knocked on the door. She hesitated before letting him in. He entered the room as if he was in charge, dominating the space. She didn’t like the way he loomed there. A night’s sleep hadn’t lessened his outlaw look. He hadn’t shaved, but he had trimmed up his beard. His clothing was similar to what he’d worn yesterday.

“What happened?” he asked. He went to the coffeepot on the desk in the room and poured himself a cup.

Jane focused on her luggage and not on Mac. “Some guy attacked me in the hall outside my room.”

He put his cup down and crossed the room to her. He put one hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I got away with just a bruise.” She stepped away from him and went to the two large camping backpacks she’d brought with her.

Mac moved next to her, taking one of the packs. “Do you know why he attacked you? Did he follow you upstairs?”

She shrugged, not wanting to remember any of what had happened yesterday. But she couldn’t forget the menace in the man’s eyes as he’d aimed that gun at her.

“No, he was in the hallway when I got off the elevator,” she said at last. “I think we should load our clothes in the bottom and use them for extra cushioning for the vials.”

“Okay. Was he targeting you?” Mac asked.

“The hotel security manager mentioned they’ve had a few small problems with thieves targeting lone female tourists over the last few weeks. So, no, I don’t think it had anything to do with me personally.”

He nodded. “Okay. What kind of vials do you have in here? Dry-ice packed, or did you dehydrate?”

“Dry ice. The Yura virus has already infected a portion of the tribe—I’m not sure how many—so I brought a treatment that worked in the lab.”

“Have you tested it on any subjects?”

“No. There wasn’t time. As I may have mentioned, my boss wanted the research stopped and me moved to something else.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“The treatment is only good for seven days. We’ve got six left. According to my research it shouldn’t take more than four to reach the Yura. I think my dad will volunteer to be a test subject. In the lab we started seeing results within two hours.”

“What about those not already infected?”

“Luckily the Yura virus is very close to Lassa fever. So I was able to manipulate a strand of the vaccine we have for that. As I said, it should be effective at preventing the rest of the tribe from contracting the virus.”

“Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases.”

The cab ride to the airport had been short but once they arrived they had nothing but hiccups. The guide she’d hired had left a message that he would be waiting in Puerto Maldonado. The pilot, Bob Jones, ran thirty minutes late and a government official almost refused to let them leave the private airport.

He’d double-checked all of her papers. Finally Mac had stepped in and called a contact he had in the government, and they’d been cleared to leave.

“Thanks,” she said when they were finally standing on the tarmac next to the plane for their flight to Puerto Maldonado.

“No problem. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t have much to do.” He took one of the backpacks and hefted it into the cargo area.

“Why?” she asked, watching his muscles bunch and flex as he moved. He was very different from Tom, who spent more time in the lab than he did either eating or working out. She was pretty sure she could bench-press more than Tom, but that Mac could probably bench-press her. She didn’t like it. She was used to being the strong one. It didn’t matter—this wasn’t a competition, she told herself. But when Mac reached for her pack, she pulled it out of his way and lifted it into the back without his help.

“Asks the ultraefficient, no-room-for-mistakes woman,” he said, with a wry grin.

“Are you teasing me?” she asked. Few people did, apart from Sophia. She seemed too serious for anyone joking with her. But Mac, whom she couldn’t get a handle on, seemed to see past her serious-scientist outer layer to the woman beneath.

“What do you think?” he countered.

She thought he was too cocky and too perceptive for his own good. But instead she said, “That we should get on the plane before something else goes wrong.”

“I agree. Who did you book the boat through in Puerto Maldonado?”

“A local tour company. They wanted us to stay overnight in one of the river camps but we don’t have time. I want to get on the La Torre as soon as possible. That’s why we’re parachuting in. We’ll take that upriver to the Madre.”

“Janey! I haven’t seen you in years,” Bob said as he approached them. He gave her a hug.

“Hi, Bob. Thanks for squeezing us in,” Jane said.

“No prob. Why has it taken you so long to come and visit your dad?”

“Work. You know how that is. You work all the time, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m a crusty old dude, you’re not.”

“Kind of you to notice,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, then climbed on board.

“Me, too,” Jane said quietly. She picked up her duffel bag and climbed in the seat right behind Bob. Mac sat behind her. A few minutes later they were in the air. The flight would take a couple of hours.

Jane liked the view from the air. The lush greenery of the Andes rose out of the low desert landscape that had surrounded them in Lima. Mac sat quietly behind her in the plane.

When the jungle finally appeared underneath them, Jane took out her GPS unit to see where they were. She determined they were less than forty-five miles from Puerto Maldonado. Almost there. She glanced over her shoulder at Mac. He was reading a copy of the New England Journal of Medicine.

She wondered what had brought this man to start Rebel Virology. He hadn’t been fired after that incident in Southeast Asia. All her life she’d studied behavior patterns, usually inside the small biosphere that was her lab. But she was enough of her anthropologist mother’s daughter to want to know why people behaved the way they did.

Especially when she was in a situation that she wasn’t certain she could control. As she was this time.

It was a big task, probably the biggest she’d ever taken on, but she felt ready for it.

The plane lurched. Damn. Jane gripped the armrests as Bob battled with the air to get them evened out again.

“Just an air pocket,” Bob said between his teeth, his concentration on flying the plane.

The plane dipped sharply. Mac sat up in the seat behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder. The plane was tossed about a bit more. Jane braced herself against the seat fuselage. Bob started cussing.

“Are we in trouble?” she yelled to Bob. He was struggling with the stick and watching the gauges. Jane waited, knowing he’d respond when he could.

“Something’s wrong with the engine,” he said at last. “Why don’t you two get ready to jump. I’m not sure if I can take you all the way to the target.”

“What should we do?” she asked.

“Don’t panic,” Mac said from behind her. He’d tucked his magazine away and was leaning forward, as well.

“I’m not. I’ve been skydiving since I was eighteen. And I did two parachute dives with the military when I worked in remote locations with a military team,” she said.

The plane jerked and a stream of smoke billowed past the window. “Are we going to crash?”

Bob turned around and looked at the two of them. There was something in his eyes that didn’t reassure Jane. “Not if I can help it.”

Mac finished fastening his chute to his back and then climbed over his seat to the packs that held the medicine. He passed them up to her. Jane worked quickly to tie the packs to another parachute, which would auto-release at a certain level.

“This is as close as I can get you.”

“I think you should come with us, Bob,” Jane said. The plane lurched again and sputtered.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll bail out if I lose control. Go while you still can,” Bob yelled.

Mac stood up and opened the door. The air rushed in and Jane closed her eyes feeling the familiar pump of adrenaline through her veins. Thank God they were already on the other side of the Andes. She didn’t relish the thought of having to trek down the mountain to get to the river area.

“I’ll go last,” she said, needing to make sure the medicine got out and to watch where it went.

Mac shrugged and stepped out of the plane. Jane pushed their packs toward the edge of the plane and then out. She turned around and waved to Bob before she jumped out of the plane.

She torpedoed her body and caught up to the packs, flying close to them. She’d lost sight of Mac. The chutes opened and slowed her descent.

Her feet hit the tops of the trees. She pulled them up but it was too late. She was knocked off balance and continued falling through the thick green canopy of the tall rain forest trees.

Her chute got tangled in the branches and she was held suspended over the floor of the jungle. The momentum of her fall caused her to rock back and forth. Her cheek stung where a branch had cut her face on the way down. She was about four feet from the ground.

She heard a loud boom and guessed that the plane had crashed. A few minutes later she saw smoke billowing up from the sky. Oh, my God. She prayed Bob had made it out okay. She should have insisted he jump when they did. She looked up for another drifting parachute, but only saw the smoke and sky through the high canopy.

She had her Blackberry in her pocket, but had left her change of clothes and food behind. There just hadn’t been time to get everything out of the plane. And the medicine had been the most important thing.

Her heart raced and her hands shook. She finally unbuckled her harness and let herself fall to the ground. Her injured leg gave as she landed and she rolled a few feet before stopping. When she got her bearings she looked up into the painted face of a warrior who held a spear with a sharp tip aimed straight at her.

Chapter 4

Jane gingerly got to her feet. Her leg ached. She had no idea how to defend herself against a spear-wielding native. The man’s eyes were calm, cool. She made eye contact with him but didn’t sustain it, not wanting him to think she was aggressive. After a minute he lowered his weapon but continued watching her.

His face was painted in broad stripes of red and blue. His eyes were a dark chocolate and his body was covered in modern clothing. Civilization had come to the Amazon basin and yet the old traditions remained. Jane was struck by the dichotomy.

She was still trying to deal with everything that had happened. She couldn’t believe their plane had crashed. Her hands shook and her mind was racing. The jump hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected considering they’d had to drop out before they’d planned.

Where was Mac?

Jane held her hands at shoulder level. The warrior continued watching her, spear in hand. She noticed he had an old AK-47 rifle slung over his shoulder.

“I’m a doctor,” she said in Spanish. “I’m here to help the Yura.”

He took a step closer and raised his spear. Jane didn’t flinch or back up. She figured her rudimentary knowledge of martial arts would buy her some time if she needed it.

“The Yura aren’t around here, they are closer to the Madre de Dios River,” he replied in Spanish, gesturing to the south.

“My plane had engine trouble,” she said.

The man just looked at her. There was nothing threatening in his gaze. Jane had the feeling that he’d come out to make sure there was no threat.

“Can you point me in the right direction?” Jane asked. She wanted to find Mac. But getting her gear and heading toward the Yura was her first priority.

“Why are you going to them?” he asked.

Not wanting to alarm the warrior, she sidestepped the question. “Have you had any dealings with them recently?”

“No. More trouble than it is worth to trade with the Yura lately.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Three more men emerged from the forest. All were armed like the man holding her at spear-point. And all wore identical face paint. She wondered if any of them were infected from contact with the Yura.

“Where is your guide?” he asked. “Too dangerous for a woman alone in the jungle.”

“I have a guide waiting in Puerto Maldonado. And another doctor parachuted out with me. Have you seen him?”

“My men are looking. Are you crazy?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but smile. She’d been asked that question before. Mostly it stemmed from the fact that she always had to do things by herself. “No. Just in a hurry.”

“You can travel with us as far as our village. From there it is a day’s journey to the Yura.”

“I’m Jane,” she said.

“Reynaldo,” he said. “Saturnino and his son, Daniel. That’s my son, Aldo.”

Jane nodded to the men. What had Reynaldo meant by trouble with the Yura?

He conversed with his men. Jane wished she understood the native dialogue. And she had more questions for them. Finally, Reynaldo came over to her.

“We’ll travel in a line. Aldo will lead then you follow. We’ll be behind you.”

“I must find my friend and my gear,” Jane said.

Aldo said something to his father in a language she didn’t understand. She heard a few Spanish words mixed in, but couldn’t follow their conversation. She pulled her Blackberry phone from her belt and checked her location via the GPS function. She wasn’t that far from the Yura. She should be able to reach them in a day, maybe two if the terrain was rough, just as Reynaldo said.

But she had to find Mac first. She couldn’t leave him alone in the jungle.

“Aldo saw your gear and a man, as well. We will take you to them now.”

“Thanks, Reynaldo.”

Aldo moved off at a fast trot and Jane followed behind him. She wasn’t used to running like this and after a few minutes she was breathing heavily. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with wet soil filled the air. Monkeys chattered overhead.

Jane slipped on a patch of wet earth. Throwing her arm out to brace herself against a peach palm and stop the fall, she felt Reynaldo grab her arm and jerk her off balance before she could make contact with the tree trunk. She gasped when she noticed the needlelike spines on the trunk. She had forgotten such dangers.

“The spiny plants are dangerous. Just fall next time.”

She nodded. Aldo hadn’t stopped and the other men just looked at her. She felt incompetent and didn’t like the feeling. She shook her head to clear it, pushed her glasses up farther on her nose and moved to catch up to Aldo.

Jane kept moving at a steady pace following the men through the jungle. It was hot and humid on the jungle floor. Rotting leaves and other vegetation provided a cushioning layer. She let the lush greenery soothe her mind as she moved. She flashed back to her childhood, remembering one time when the village they’d been living in had moved. Jane had been a child then and she’d traveled with the other children, singing a song whose words escaped her now. But the rhythm beat through her mind and body as she jogged along behind Aldo.

* * *

After fifteen minutes they stopped under a large canopy. Aldo pointed up and Jane saw her gear suspended from the trees. Jane looked at the base of the tree, which was the size of a compact car, and wondered how the hell she was going to get up there to retrieve her stuff.

But Daniel was up the tree before Jane could say anything. He pulled a knife from his waistband and cut the cords. The packs dropped and Jane hurried forward, afraid the fall might have damaged the vials.

Jane moved toward the packs, but Reynaldo stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Someone’s coming.”

“It might be—”

Reynaldo covered her mouth and the men all drew their weapons. Jane found herself in the middle of a protective circle. She thought about trying to explain that she could take care of herself, but it was such an odd feeling, having someone try to protect her, that she was bemused.

Mac burst through the underbrush. Mac had survived, but then she’d figured he would. He had the look of someone who had survived a lot of things. But she was still relieved to see his familiar face.

Mac put his hands up, showing that he was clearly not armed.

“Jane, tell them I’m with you.” The command in his voice rubbed her the wrong way. Given the tension in the air she understood his impatience but she didn’t like it.

“He’s with me,” she said to Reynaldo. But the men didn’t lower their weapons.

Reynaldo said something to Mac in the same language Aldo had used earlier. Jane listened in shock as Mac responded. What was going on? Was Mac known to them? Why weren’t they lowering their weapons?

The conversation continued for a few minutes and then Reynaldo and his men lowered their weapons. “You can check on your stuff now.”

Jane moved forward. Mac joined her at the packs. She opened hers first and saw that the Styrofoam was cracked around one of the vial containers. Digging deeper in her bag she removed some medical adhesive tape to repair it.

“What was that about?” Jane asked in English.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in this area. They wanted to make sure I wasn’t from one of their rival tribes.”

“Why are you in South America, Mac?” she asked, suddenly wishing she’d asked a few more questions before leaving Lima with this man. He wasn’t Peruvian, but here in the jungle he looked as if he was in his natural environment.

“You invited me,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She was well aware that he hadn’t answered her question. She couldn’t help but think there was more to this man than he’d revealed. There was so much ambiguity around this virus and the people who were denying its existence. Had Mac been sent to keep her from reaching the Yura?

Actually, she knew why she wanted to find out his secrets. Then maybe she could answer some of her own questions. She wasn’t burned out by her job, but she did fear misdiagnosing something, or getting a treatment wrong as she’d heard Mac had. Going to an outbreak hot zone and killing everyone instead of curing them. That fear always lingered at the back of her mind. And with this trip it was in the forefront. What if something she did in the lab translated not to a treatment, but instead to death?

“And you always go where you’re invited?”

“Always,” he said, in a way that made her realize he wasn’t as cocksure as he seemed. The man was a mystery to her. By rights he should have left the world of virology and locked himself up in a lab. But instead he was here still fighting to save people despite the devastating setbacks he’d encountered. How had he gone on?

She shook her head. “Reynaldo mentioned that the Yura were in trouble. I want to find out what he meant. Would you ask him?”

“I doubt your friend will tell me anything. He doesn’t trust me.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say I’m friends with some of his enemies.”

The way he said it sent shivers down the back of her spine. She realized she should have conducted a more in-depth interview of this man, looked closer at his past. “I need more answers.”

“That’s all you’re getting right now. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Trust has to be earned.”

He leaned in close, speaking in a very low tone. “Do you want me to leave you here alone with these men? Or do you want to get to your father?”

She sensed he was manipulating her. Deliberately using her father’s peril to keep her from asking any more questions.

“I’m focused on what needs to be done.”

She jerked away only to trip on the buttressed roots of a strangler fig. The trees were called killer trees by the natives because they completely covered the other trees in the forest and eventually strangled them. But they also provided much-needed fruit for year-round consumption by the animals.

Mac reached down and pulled her to her feet. She noticed again how strong he was. She just hoped she had someone at her side who she could count on personally as well as physically.

Jane wasn’t used to counting on anyone, let alone a guy with a tough reputation. And Mac was hiding something from her.

Did Reynaldo know something that Mac didn’t want her to know?

Jane didn’t know who to trust. There were more dangers in the jungle than the disease infecting the Yura. Diseases she could handle. Liars just pissed her off.

The rains had held off for a while, but now they fell in a steady pattern. The water was unexpectedly cold, making her shiver with each drop that hit her skin. When she felt a chill moving up her spine she knew she needed to put on something else. She’d packed a vinyl rain jacket for just this kind of situation. She stopped. Aldo continued moving and Saturnino and Daniel jogged past her as did Mac. But Reynaldo stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need my jacket.”

He nodded. Jane pulled out the vinyl shell and pulled it on over her clothing.

“How much farther to your village?” she asked.

“Not long now. You and your companion should consider staying the night with us.”

Nothing sounded better to Jane. Especially when they arrived at the village fifteen minutes later. The cluster of huts was nestled in a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees. A well stood in the center, along with a fire where women were cooking. The dry huts were tempting. But her mission was urgent, and they had no time for rest.

Mac disappeared as soon as they got into the village. Jane was shown to a dry, clean hut. She didn’t bother changing her clothing because she knew being wet was part of being in the Amazon.

She got out her Blackberry and called the airport. They hadn’t heard from Bob.

She used her Blackberry to check her e-mail and was stunned to read a message from Meredith to the staff saying that she, Jane, was on a sabbatical and that her current projects were being reassigned. So she was really on her own.

Meredith hadn’t mentioned moving Jane’s workload around. Jane started to respond to the e-mail but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

She did send an e-mail to Tom and Angie, telling them that things weren’t going too smoothly and that they’d been forced to jump early. She gave them her coordinates and asked Angie to check to see if Bob had survived the crash.

She found a table in the corner and removed everything from her bag. She found her grandfather’s knife and attached the holster to her ankle. She also took out her insect repellent and doused herself and her bag with it. Then she repacked everything and knew it was time to get on the road.

She searched out Reynaldo and found him speaking to some men. He looked up at her, his gaze concerned.

“Would you send some men to the crash site?” she asked.

He paused before he answered. Her heart sank.

“These men have checked it out.”

“Did they find the pilot?”

He shook his head. “There were no survivors.”

Jane swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around her stomach, struggling not to cry. She closed her eyes, remembering how Bob had always seemed so wild and funny to her. He’d amazed her with his wild tales.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around. Mac.

Reynaldo and his men drifted away, probably to give them privacy.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Getting some information from the villagers about who’s warring with who. We don’t want to get caught in the cross fire of a tribal war.”

“That was a good idea.”

“I heard Bob didn’t make it. You okay?”

“Yes,” she said. But she wasn’t. She wished she was still safe in her lab, where she was in control. She turned away from him.

His voice made her pause and collect herself. “Do you know where the Yura are? Reynaldo thinks we’ve got a good day’s hike or more in front of us.”

“I know. I programmed the coordinates into my GPS before we left Lima,” she said. Focusing on business helped her shock at Bob’s death. In his note, her father had left some coordinates for the tribe.

She thought about her dad and how much had changed since he’d left civilization. Not just in the way of available products, such as satellite phones in the private sector, but also in her. She was older now. More experienced with the CDC.

She wondered what had gone so wrong with her father.

Mac put his hand on her shoulder. She glanced back at him. “My watch has a GPS. I’ll program the coordinates in there so we have a backup.”

Jane gave him the coordinates. His watch looked as though it had been invented for NASA. He programmed it and then glanced up.

“I have some light sticks we can use once darkness falls. But I’m planning to keep moving if we can,” she blurted out.

“That makes sense,” Mac said.

“I’ve been thinking about hiring Aldo to come with us,” she said.

“I’ve got enough jungle experience to get us to the Yura.”

That was all well and good, but there was something about Mac that made her uneasy. He was hiding something and she didn’t really want to find out on her own in the jungle that her faith in him was misplaced. “I’m going to check in with Reynaldo, but I want to leave in five minutes.”

“Sure thing, boss lady.”

Jane walked away, ignoring his smart comment. He liked to needle her, and she didn’t know why. She spotted Reynaldo and he waved her over to him.

“Do you need anything for your journey?” he asked.

“We do need food. And some information.”

“I gave food to your man. What do you want to know?”

“Could you tell me more about the trouble with the Yura?”

Reynaldo glanced across the clearing at Mac and then drew her farther away from him. “Six months ago something weird started happening with them.”

“Weird how?”

“They stopped trading with us and refused anyone who journeyed to their village.”

“What do you mean by refused?”

“They wouldn’t allow anyone to come into the village. No food stores could be replenished. A white man…gave them orders.”

“Did you see him?” Jane asked. Was it her father? Or someone else? Maybe Mac?

“No. But Aldo did.”

“Was the man Mac?” she asked.

He shook his head. Jane started to ask another question but saw that Mac was moving toward them. “Thank you. Would Aldo be available to act as a guide?”

Reynaldo shook his head. “No. We are getting ready to start the Spring rite and Aldo is needed here. If you wait two weeks I can give you a group of men and a guide.”

She didn’t even have two days and well she knew it. “Thanks, but I can’t wait.”

Reynaldo nodded. He closed his eyes and put his hand over her forehead and muttered some words. Jane didn’t know what he was saying, but sensed he had blessed her.

From his neck he took a necklace made of shells and bamboo and handed it to her. “Be careful. The way is not always straight or clear but don’t doubt the path.”

Jane nodded. “Thank you.”

Mac joined them with his gear on, clearly ready to go. They said their goodbyes to Reynaldo and went back to get Jane’s pack.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked. “Just us, or did you find someone else to come along?”

“Just us. I’m not sure how far we can get tonight but I think I might go crazy if we stay here.”

“Yeah, I kind of had that feeling. Why is this so important to you?” he asked.

“Saving lives is always—”

“Don’t give me that. This feels personal.”

“It is. My dad’s involved.” She hoped he’d leave it at that because she wasn’t sure she even understood the deeper reasons why she was doing this. But she knew they involved being the one to right the past.

He moved closer to her, something she realized he did when he wanted to needle her.

“I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Well, save your brainpower. I just like to do my job well.” He was more perceptive than she wanted him to be.

“Whatever you say. You want to take the lead?”

She nodded and lifted her backpack up, sliding the straps onto her shoulders. She groaned under the weight of it. Damn, it was heavy. She wished she’d done a little more than just weight training at the gym. She was going to have the mother of all backaches before this was done. But it would be worth it if she could save her father and prevent more people from dying.

The scent of fruit and rotting vegetation hung heavy in the air. They were far removed from the real world. She closed her eyes and saw her father’s face. The pressure and the time clock beat loudly in her head once again.

“Tell me about this disease,” Mac said as they moved out.

“The symptoms are similar to Lassa fever as far as I can tell. As I said in Lima, I didn’t have time to do any tests on people.”

“Do you think it’ll spread to the brain?” he asked. Now he was acting like the other virologists she knew. She could almost hear his mind working as he processed what she’d told him and what he knew of viruses from the past.

“From what research I did…yes.”

“Is your father infected?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“How advanced is he?” he asked. There was no concern in his voice. He was just gathering information.

“I don’t know.” And somehow that made it worse. If she knew he was in the advanced stages, she could be better prepared. “He sent me two different packages. The second one contained his infected blood sample.”

“Did he include notes?”

“Yes.”

“Was his handwriting shaky?” Mac asked.

“No. It was the same bold strokes he always used.” She was tired of talking about this. It wasn’t helping. Somehow being here in the jungle made the threat all the more real. Right now she felt out of control. Only the glances she kept taking at the monitor on her GPS unit made her feel more in charge.

Less a victim of this Yura disease that might spread throughout the entire Amazon basin region. A disease that the government and Raul Veracruz both denied existed. She didn’t understand that. Raul had always been a top-notch virologist. She couldn’t believe he’d have missed something this lethal.

“When we stop tonight I’m going to have my assistant send me some further information on Lassa. Did you definitely rule that out?” Mac asked after several minutes.

“Yes. Why are you questioning me?” she asked. Did he doubt her research?

“I don’t want to give an untried treatment to people,” he said at last.

“Why not? The disease is fatal. A treatment gives them a good chance to stay healthy.” She’d bet that his doubt had something to do with his Southeast Asia experience. She wanted to know more about it. Had he put glory in front of human lives?

“Experience.”

There was an expression in his eyes that she’d seen once or twice on a virologist fresh from a hot zone. There was nothing like fighting a disease in its environment and coming home barely the winner. “Does this have something to do with—”

“I said experience. Leave it at that.”

She stepped away from him. He was surly now, as if it was okay for him to probe into her life but not vice versa. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t understand you,” she said.

He closed the gap between the two of them. There was something challenging in the way he crowded her. Man-woman challenging, and it made Jane take a step back. She wasn’t used to dealing with men who got in her face. She was kind of an ice queen at work and in the field she was all business. Damn. This trip was making her crazy already.

“That makes two of us,” he said.

When he pulled his arm away she realized the sleeve had blood on it. She searched his face in the waning light, finding a cut at his hairline. “Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound,” he said, moving out of her reach when she tried to check it out.

“We’re in the jungle. A flesh wound—”

“I know it could mean death. I put some antiseptic on it.”

“Let me see it,” she said. He stood still. She had to step very close so that each breath he exhaled brushed her face. He smelled of sweat and mint. She hadn’t been this close to a man in a long time. In fact, Raul had been the last man.

It had taken her a long time to get over him. Not because she’d been mooning or anything like that. But because she’d felt, of all the men she’d dated, Raul was the one she could have gone the distance with. They’d both shared so much. Work and career, similar outlooks on life and of course white-hot passion.

Mac stared at her and she realized she was just looking at him. Carefully she probed around the cut with her fingers. He didn’t flinch, and she saw that the wound had started to close.

She went up on tiptoe for a better look.

“Going to kiss it and make it better?” he asked. His lips brushed the side of her cheek when he spoke.

Shivers spread down her body from the warmth of his breath against her skin. Maybe it was the fact that she didn’t trust him or maybe it was just some sort of animal magnetism that he possessed. But whatever it was, he made her very aware of needs she’d ignored for too long now.

He was trying to rattle her. She knew it and he knew it. But Jane had been holding her own against hard-ass men her entire life. And it took a lot more than intimidation to scare her.

Jane put her shoulders back and stood a little taller. It helped that she’d spent a lifetime getting to know herself so well, because she had utter confidence in her ability to do what she’d come to the Amazon basin to do. Her nature wouldn’t let her accept failure.

“Maybe it’s worse than you think and I’ll have to put you out of your misery.”

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