Chapter 13
“Rory.” Mathilda gently touched the pilot’s shoulder.
He sure had great taste in clothes. His loose ivory linen shirt was custom tailored, even though it was pretty grungy after a couple of sweaty nights in the jungle.
He must make a pretty good salary working for Lincoln Kerr.
“Rory, there’s some chicken soup here for you. Are you hungry?”
Although his eyelids quivered, Rory didn’t stir. Maybe his need for sleep was greater than his need for food at the moment.
“I’m going to leave it right here.” She set the bowl of soup on a chair next to the pilot’s cot, making sure the mosquito net would protect it from flies. “You’re welcome to it whenever you’re ready.”
She waited, wondering if the sound of her voice would wake him up. This man must know a thing or two about Lincoln Kerr. She already had a long list of questions she hoped to sneak in.
The quiet inside the tent was broken by a loud shout from outside.
“Everyone, get out here!” Lincoln’s commanding voice rang through the camp, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. Mathilda jumped to her feet, ready to run outside to see what the fuss was, but stopped at a sound from the cot.
The pilot’s eyelids were open. “Rory.”
She crouched next to him. “Yes, you’re Rory. I’m Mathilda. I brought you some soup.”
From outside came a series of shocked exclamations and gasps, and a “what the fuck, bruddah” in Robert’s deep voice. Jeez, what on earth was going on? She had to get out there and find out.
“Look, your soup is right here.” She lifted the bowl to show him. “It’s ready to eat. I made sure it’s not too hot. I have to run outside and see what’s going on, okay? Take your time, Rory.”
He frowned at her in a very arrogant manner. “What kind of soup?”
“What kind?” Was he really in a position to be picky? “Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian. This is chicken soup with rice. It’s very nutritious. Enjoy.”
She straightened up, then noticed that he was staring at her.
“What’s the matter?”
“You were kissing. Before.”
He must be remembering the moment he woke up and interrupted her and Lincoln.
Her face heated. “Not quite. Our lips did not make contact. Trust me, I’m not dumb enough to get involved with a heartless billionaire.
I know that type just as well as you do.
You work for one, I grew up around them.
But don’t tell anyone, it’s not something I like to talk about. ”
He frowned at her with blatant disapproval. “What’s wrong…” He gestured vaguely at her instead of finishing his sentence. Since he was still staring at her, she figured he must be reacting to something about her appearance. She touched her hair and realized it had degenerated into a tangled mess.
Bristling, she said, “This is the jungle, not a beauty pageant. That’s one of the reasons I love it here. Besides, you look a lot worse than I do. You smell worse, too.”
He blinked slowly at her, while she cursed herself for being so childish. The man had just come out of a coma. She shouldn’t expect good manners from him.
But that wasn’t why she was sniping at him. The truth was, she’d expected to like the pilot more than his boss, and that just wasn’t the case.
Outside, a loud argument had broken out. She had to go see what the shouting was all about.
“Gotta go, Rory. Don’t forget your soup.”
“I have to…” He searched for the right word. “Urine.”
“Well, go ahead and pee, then. You have a catheter so you can just go. Sasha says she can take it out as soon as you’re able to walk around on your own. Then you can go pee in the jungle like the rest of us.”
He looked so horrified that she worried he was having a stroke. She wasn’t sure which part of that had upset him. The catheter? Or the peeing in the jungle? “I’ll give you some privacy. Pee, drink some water, eat some soup. I have to go see what’s happening outside.”
“Rory,” he said again, then shook his head. “No. No. Forgot. Lincoln. Tell Lincoln…need to see.”
“I’ll do that.” She started to leave, then turned back. “One little question before I go. What’s it like working for that man? Is it as aggravating as I imagine?”
He worked on focusing his gaze on her, but it seemed difficult for him to do. His eyes kept wandering in all directions, as if he was searching for something.
“Lincoln…danger,” he finally said.
A chill slithered down her spine. Then she remembered that Sasha had said he was experiencing paranoid delusions about foreign governments and so on.
“Don’t worry about all that, Rory. I can set your mind at ease that everyone here is dedicated to scientific research and not any kind of threat to Lincoln. He’s been pretty generous, actually. He’s going to donate some equipment and other funding.”
Rory’s eyes opened wider, as if he was surprised to hear that.
“Hey, I was shocked, too. But he said it’s the least he could do after we rescued you two. Gotta love a billionaire who doesn’t mind parting with big chunks of his money.”
Rory closed his eyes and gave a low groan.
Mathilda took that as her cue to hurry out of the tent to see what all the commotion was about.
Everyone was gathered near the fire pit, clustered around Lincoln and another man. As she slipped between Diane and Bjorn, she saw that the newcomer was a man in full jungle gear, his head shrouded in so much netting that he looked like a giant spiderweb on legs.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I caught this man sneaking into camp,” Lincoln explained. “He’s obviously armed, if you consider a machete a weapon, which I certainly do.”
The stranger shook his head. “I…I don’t even know how to use that thing. They told me to bring it but not as a weapon.” He spoke with a British accent, which sent another shiver down Mathilda’s spine.
Rory had mentioned foreign governments. This man was a foreigner. Maybe it wasn’t all a delusion.
“‘They’? Who’s they?” Sasha demanded.
“The…the guides. The outfitters. The people I rented all this gear from.” He grabbed at the base of his head net, but couldn’t find the catch. “Bloody terrible job they did. Should have paid attention to those one-star reviews.”
“Are you saying you’re just here to explore the jungle?” Lincoln’s cool and skeptical voice cut through the man’s struggles with his head net. “And you just happened to stumble across this camp?”
“No, no, not exploring. Lord forbid. I wouldn’t set foot in this place if I wasn’t hired to do it.”
Lincoln lifted the machete so it was aimed directly at the man’s throat. “Who hired you?”
“That’s just it, unfortunately I am legally restricted from revealing that information until I’ve delivered my message.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient.” Bjorn butted into the conversation, as if trying to compete with Lincoln somehow. “But out here we have no police or judges. Legal restrictions don’t mean much.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t intend to stay here a minute longer than necessary, and I still have to answer to my professional obligations.”
Everyone exchanged glances, unsure what to do. Mathilda took a step closer, causing Lincoln to shoot her a glance full of warning.
“Mathilda, stay back,” he said. “We don’t know who this man is or what he’s here for.”
“Did you say Mathilda?” Everyone’s attention swung back toward the man in camouflage. “Mathilda Wheeler?”
Mathilda felt a wave of shock wash through her. “How do you know my name?” she demanded. “Who are you? Can someone get his stupid head net off? It’s not even buggy right now!”
“I’ll do it.” Lincoln handed Sasha the machete, which she gave to Robert, who tossed it on top of a plastic tote. No one felt threatened by this guy anymore. Except her. How did he know her name?
And then, in a flash of horror, it occurred to her why someone might come all the way to the deep jungle to look for her.
Oh no. Not that. Please not that. Not yet.