Page 96 of Beautifully Wild

He dreams of holding her, making love to her, yet he can barely remain upright. He pays the driver in American dollars and is grateful the hotel reception is open.

“No reservation? I’m sorry we’re fully booked. There’s a hotel up the road,” the receptionist says in Spanish.

He places one hand on the desk to balance himself. “I’m looking for Eden Monteford,” he tells her. “Is she staying here?”

“I’m sorry, sir, we can’t give out confidential information.”

“Samuel?”

He turns at the sound of her voice.

She runs to him, almost knocking him off balance. Her arms wrap around him. “You’re okay.”

“Barely, but now I’ve found you, I’m more than okay.” He kisses Eden holding her tightly, wishing he didn’t have to let go. He breaks the kiss and leans in so their heads are huddled together.

“You’re safe that’s all that matters,” she rasps.

Safe in each other’s arms they allow themselves a quiet minute to process their emotion. Tears stream down Eden’s cheek. His heart is near bursting. His resolve cracks and he cries quietly with Eden in his arms. Gathering some strength, he takes in a deep breath, and inhales her scent.

She’s all he needs to survive.

Eden leans back, her eyes flicking over his face. “You’re thinner.” She runs her fingers over his cheeks. “Come, let’s get you up the stairs.”

Stairs.

One arm hooked around his waist, she guides him up each step and unlocks the door with one hand. She leads him to her bed and grabs her phone. “I’m sending Amy a text to bring extra food back for you. She’s with Yasmine and Michael.”

“What was the message about Paulo?” he croaks.

Eden curls up beside him on the bed. “It’s a story that can wait.” Her hand is under his t-shirt, stroking his ribs. “How much weight have you lost?”

“It happens on these trips, although it’s not as concerning as the thought of losing you.”

She pushes up so their lips meet. His walls are down. Everything about her arouses him—her scent, her touch. The warmth radiating from her calms him like no other. And the memory of him between her legs. His fingers curl around her hair. She owns his heart and soul. He kisses her with more passion and need than he believed possible. She fuels his energy. In minutes, they are naked, their legs intertwined.

With frantic breaths, he sinks into her, rasping, “I love you,” against her mouth. Unlike the last time, he moves slowly, lovingly, inside of her.

Delicate hands hold his face while blue eyes demand his focus. She waits for his breathing to slow and whispers, “I love you, too.”

He collapses onto the sheet beside her. His eyes heavy and overcome with exhaustion. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was inevitable. It’s not goodbye. I’ll come and find you. I promise.”

Knowing his words to be true, he closes his eyes, his heart finally finding peace.

“Where are they now?” Samuel asks Eden while sitting at the table after eating breakfast.

“In Yasmine’s room, I assume. He managed to worm his way out of any blame and said he was doing what Yasmine wanted. Yet he knew you would come. Why is that?”

Samuel crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, his gaze rising to the ceiling while he constructs his explanation. “Michael knows about the shaman in Ulara. Well, bits and not as much as you… only that their ayahuasca recipe is pure and more effective than any other brew. He wants me to divulge what plants are used and the secrets of the village. He’s been using subtle blackmail for years. And yes, I stupidly told him some things when I first decided to stay in the village as I needed to report to someone my whereabouts for safety. He has tried different teas with shamans over the years. We met Paul, or Paulo as he’s now known, when he first arrived in Peru. He stated he wanted to become a shaman and learn their ways. To be a healer takes many years and a special skill to connect with the forest. It’s not a job you apply for and can be trained in a year. Yet Paulo was determined and thought he could make a living if he remained here. He married a local from one of the villages, and it’s worked out for him. Only he’s not a true shaman. I believe he can be dangerous because he doesn’t take anyone’s past medical history into account or any underlying symptoms. To him, it’s a fix-all brew. He mixes too much caffeine into it, and it not only makes you sick and gives palpitations, but for someone with an underlying heart condition, it can be potentially fatal.”

“Amy said people have died in his care.”

Leaning forward, he rests his weary arms on the table. “Two deaths. The first happened years ago when someone stood while still high from his concoction and fell and hit their head. He said it was beyond his control and not his fault. The second had a stomach ulcer and died in Lima a few days after leaving his ceremony. He denies both were any fault of his. It’s upsetting because the shamans here pride themselves on their work, and sharing it with people who need their help is important. They didn’t want bad publicity from a—”

“What? Fraud?”

---