Page 65 of Bad Rio

“All right.” She began to scoot off the bed. “I’ll take our empty bottles and refill them.”

“Wait.” Still flat on his back, he put a hand on her leg. “I’m not up to doing anything more right now, but how about a little kiss?” He smiled at her and her heart melted.

Leaning over him, she pressed her lips to his. “Get better and we’ll see about doing somethingmore.” With a deliberate movement, she brushed her breasts across his chest.

His eyes alight, he leaned up an inch, groaned in pain and fell back. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She giggled, delighting in teasing him. “I’m off to refill our water, and maybe wash my hair in your creek. While I’m gone, you sleep, okay? The sooner you get better, the sooner we can get busy.”

His eyes briefly flamed, then his lids drifted closed, and she could tell she was already losing him to sleep. “Kiss me again, Becca,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you when I get back,” she promised. “Now, you just rest.” Gathering empty bottles, her coat and the shampoo, she eased out the door.

Taking her time, she made a wide-ranging tour of the area. She wanted to familiarize herself with the surrounding landscape, have a better understanding of their location. She learned where the taller trees leaned into the wind, where the squirrels chittered and ran across branches. She discovered a flock of green-feathered, redheaded, thick-billed parrots roosting in a wild oak. Across the mountainside, she saw a single, small gray fox trotting along his way. The mountain was breathtaking.

At last she found Rio’s creek, wending its way down the mountainside, cold from melted snow above, and clean. First, she refilled their bottles, capped them, and then leaned from the side to wash her hair.

It felt heavenly. Fluffing it with her fingers, after sitting in the sunshine for a bit, she had it half-dry before returning to the shack.

Rio was awake and propped up in bed against the wall.

“Honey, I’m home,” she sang out, smiling.

He grinned. “Welcome back. Your hair looks pretty.”

She swung its heavy weight, still damp from the washing. “Thanks! You have a severe case of bed head.” He didn’t, though. His hair just looked artfully tousled, as though for a romantic film scene in a chick flick. How did he do that?

He ran a hand though the blond strands and rubbed his three-day stubble. “Sorry. Do I look like hell?”

She nearly burst out laughing. Since she’d already decided he belonged in Hollywood, or in the pages ofGentleman’s Quarterlymagazine, she couldn’t imagine him lookinglike hell.

But she wouldn’t tell him. “You look like a hot mess,” she said instead. Setting the water bottles on the floor, she hid a new grin.

“At least you think I’m hot,” he said, showing his dimple. “I’ll take that.”

She busied herself rebuilding the fire and replenishing their wood from the huge pile she’d made just outside the door. At last lowering the latch, she turned to him. “Rio, who was trying to kill us, back at my condo? If not Tim, who?”

“I’ve been working that out,” he said. “Trouble is, my brain isn’t operating real well. Feels like mush.”

“I’m so upset about those poor girls, chained in the truck. Hopefully the authorities were able to rescue them.”

“No doubt they did. I gave a full description of the truck and the license plate.”

“But there must be others.”

He didn’t answer.

“Okay,” she said. Perhaps she was pushing him too hard. “Don’t worry about any of this right now. You’re getting better. We’ll be here for a few more days. Maybe all week. I want you much improved before we go back.”

“I need to talk to my boss. Haven’t called him in days. I gotta see what’s going on.” He scowled.

“Both our phones are charged, but I turned them off.” When he continued to frown, she asked, “What?” She’d grown intuitive to his moods. “What is it?”

“Not sure. Maybe I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Or in a couple of days,” she said, correcting him. There was no way he’d be able to travel far enough to get cell reception for at least that long.

“Can I have some food?” he asked. Clearly he wouldn’t discuss whatever was bothering him.

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