Page 5 of Prisoner of War
Chapter Two
The jaguar bared its fangs and leapt with a roar that deafened her.
It was slammed aside by an unseen force, as if it had smashed into an invisible wall. It hit the ground with another roar. Dirt and leaves sprayed as it dug its big, dinner-plate-sized paws into the dirt and twisted around to come back at her.
This time she heard the gun as it fired, saw the place where thebullet hit high on the back of the jaguar’s shoulder, punching it back down to the ground. As she stared at the jaguar, frozen with disbelief, she saw from the corner of her eye an army-issue boot push up against the trunk. A long-fingered hand curled around a pistol. The pistol was thrust closer to the jaguar to make the aim certain. The gun fired and the jaguar jerked. It fell still and silent.
Minnie looked up then. She wasn’t certain which emotion was strongest when Duardo turned his head to look at her. Knee-weakening relief. Overwhelming joy.
He smiled, showing his white teeth. “Only one like you would wear designer jeans to war.”
“I wasn’t going to war. I was coming to make sure you were still in it.”
“I was, until you got yourself lost.” His smile faded. “Do you have any ideawhere you are?”
She grimaced. “I figured I was in enemy territory.”
“Then my company has not been without some influence.” He pulled on a slide on the pistol and let it snap back into place, then ejected the clip out of the handle of the pistol and loaded it with bullets from a pouch at his waist. He seated the clip back into the gun with a slap, pushed a lever with his thumb and thrust thegun into the covered holster at his hip. “We must move away from here,” he said. “The sound of firing will travel and will draw them to investigate.”
She couldn’t help herself. She threw herself into his arms, threading her own around his neck. She pressed her lips against his skin, tasting her own tears mixed with his unique flavor.
She fully expected him to push her away. Duardo was a properVistarian and there was a time and place for such things. He’d already told her they must hurry but she needed this contact. She needed to hold him and feel his warmth against her, even for a small moment.
Her tears came harder when his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tight against him. She could hear his heart thudding against her chest. “Como te amo, tu eres una loca.” His murmurwas low, against her ear. “What am I to do with one like you?”
“Stay with me,” she suggested. “It’s easier that way.”
Her answer was Duardo’s arms tightening around her. Just for a moment. Then he let her go, picked up her hand in his large one and led her farther into the forest, up the slope.
“That’s inland!” she said, trying to keep her voice down.
“Yes.” He was moving swiftly through theforest without hesitation, stepping over logs and tangles of vines, striding to the point where Minnie almost had to run to keep up with him.
“Aren’t theInsurrectos this way?”
“Farther north. Around Pascuallita.”
“Pascua...Duardo! Your family! Are they all right? Do you know?”
This time his answer took longer. “They know what to do,” he said at last. “Cristián will take care of them.”
Minniethought of Duardo’s younger brother’s quiet reserve and matched it up against armedInsurrectos hell-bent on destruction. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“I am a soldier, Minnie. They know where my place must be during times of war.”
She took a few running steps as the tug on her hand propelled her along. “I guess it’s not by my side, huh?”
He stopped so unexpectedly she almost ran into him. “No,”he said firmly. “I should not be here. Neither should you. Yet here we are.” He tugged at the buttons on his camouflage shirt, swiftly releasing them. “Do not misinterpret that fact, Minnie. If you must be here—and apparently you must, for you have defied long odds and two armies to reach this far—if you must be here, then I would prefer to be here with you where I can protect you than in a...a...”He frowned, his English failing him for the first time since he had magically appeared, wielding his pistol. “Hole in the ground,” he said. “Long, skinny, for hiding in, for shooting from.”
“Fox hole...or a trench, is what it really is.”
“Trench, yes. That is a good word for it.” He pulled his shirt off, wadded it into a ball and stuffed it beneath a nearby log. He was wearing a black stretchsleeveless T-shirt beneath. It was formfitting and revealed the strong chest and abs that the regulation army shirt always hid. His tanned arms were strong, with rounded caps of muscle and sinewy forearms.
Minnie found herself studying his body, the dips and swell of flesh over muscle. She knew those curves well and had explored them thoroughly. Duardo had spent his adult life working to be abetter soldier for Vistaria. He was immensely proud of his country and unafraid to reveal the depth of his devotion.
He dropped to one knee and pulled the hems of his pants out from the high army boots and yanked them straight so they hung like normal trousers, hiding most of the boots.
“I didn’t mean to pull you away from your hole in the ground,” she said, her voice husky. “I didn’t mean...Idon’t know what I meant to do, Duardo. I just knew I couldn’t sit still when the news coming through was so bad...” She bit her lip. “Pascuallita has fallen. You knew that, didn’t you?”
