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Her mouth was dry. She needed… she wanted…
She wanted.
The realization struck her with all the force of a blow to the head.
She wantedhim.
Ellie was in the throes of a primitive, overwhelming, and undeniable lust.
Her mind burned with the possibilities. Recklessly disobedient brain cells sparked to life with the image of Adam’s bare torso from after Ellie’s disastrous swim by theMary Lee… and then her wretched thoughts shifted to vividly imagining what it would feel like to trace her fingers over every delicious angle.
She wondered how the scruff on his face would feel scratching against her cheek… her lips…
Mortification rolled over her. Everything the temperance people said about drink was true. Here Ellie was, just partway through that bottle of liquid gold, and she had turned from a rational, modern woman into a savage beast.
If she climbed onto Adam’s lap and kissed him right now, he would taste like more of that rum.
It was abominable. These were not the thoughts of a rational mind. Adam’s spiritus was transforming her into an animal… and there was nothing to stop her from acting on her terrible impulses.
The realization set Ellie’s heart pounding. She and Adam were alone in the back country, miles from even the most remote outpost of civilization. What happened between them here need never find its way back to Neil or her parents—to the rest of the world.
She could unleash her wildest desires without any fear of the social consequences.
Ellie leaned toward Adam, drawn like the needle on his compass. A lingering shred of her rational mind marveled at it wonderingly.
I’m going to do it. I’m going to put my hands on him—and I’m not going to stop.
Adam’s expression shifted—first to curiosity, and then to something that radiated both surprise and a sudden heat.
The silence of the night was shattered by a roar.
The sound echoed through the trees, echoing eerily off the river nearby. A primitive instinct drove Ellie to her feet. Her pulse pounded as she looked around helplessly, but her eyes refused to penetrate the velvet darkness that surrounded them.
“Jaguar,” Adam said as he rose gracefully beside her.
“Are we in danger?” Ellie demanded.
Her gaze flew to his belt, where his machete remained sheathed.
“No,” he replied evenly. “It won’t come near the fire.”
“Right, then,” Ellie announced awkwardly. “I suppose I should be getting to bed.”
The word—bed—seemed to linger mercilessly in the air. It recalled, in painful detail, everything Ellie had been about to do before the jaguar had interrupted her.
Her face flushed. She hoped the ruddy firelight would disguise the change until she could make her escape.
“We do have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” she finished stiffly.
“Go on ahead,” Adam replied. “I’m going to build up the fire a bit more.”
Ellie nodded awkwardly, then pivoted and stalked quickly to the shelter. She crawled under the mosquito net. The thick bed of palm fronds rustled beneath her.
Over by the blaze, Adam easily tossed an enormous log onto the fire. The sparks whirled up around him, illuminating his figure in a way that sent another uncomfortable and unwelcome jolt through her.
Ellie lay down on the platform and deliberately put her back to him as she scooted as close to the far edge as she could.
She knew, in theory, that the strict standards of virtue imposed upon the women of England were yet another tool of oppression. Still, she had assumed that as a scholar and a suffragist, she could choose her own noble principles… and thenactually stick to them.
