Midnight Rainbow Read Online Free PDF Page B

more than a little
wary. Until she was actually on American soil, until she knew beyond any doubt
that she was safe, she was going to follow poor George Persall's ironclad rule: when in doubt, lie.
                  The man shifted uncomfortably, drawing her
attention. "Look, honey, do you think you could loosen up on my pants? Or
are you trying to finish the job you started on me with your knee?" Jane
felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and she hastily released her hold. "I'm
sorry, I didn't realize," she whispered. She stood stiffly for a moment,
her arms at her sides; then panic began to rise in her. She couldn't see him in
the darkness, she couldn't hear him breathing, and now that she was no longer
touching him, she couldn't be certain that he hadn't left her. Was he still
there? What if she was alone?
                  The air became thick and oppressive, and she
struggled to breathe, to fight down the fear that she knew was unreasonable but
that no amount of reason could conquer. Even knowing its source didn't help.
She simply couldn't stand the darkness. She couldn't sleep without a light; she
never went into a room without first reaching in and turning on the light
switch, and she always left her lights on if she knew she would be late
returning home. She, who always took extraordinary precautions against being
left in the dark, was standing in the middle of a jungle in darkness so
complete that it was like being blind. Her fragile control broke and she
reached out wildly, clawing for him, for reassurance that he was still there.
Her outstretched fingers touched fabric, and she threw herself against him,
gasping in mingled panic and relief. The next second steely fingers grasped her
shirt and she was hurled through the air to land flat on her back in the
smelly, rotting vegetation. Before she could move, before she could suck air back
into her lungs, her hair was pulled back and she felt the suffocating pressure
of his knee on her chest again. His breath was a low rasp above her, his voice
little more than a snarl "Don't ever—ever—come at me from behind
again."
                  Jane writhed, pushing at his knee. After a
moment he lifted it, and eased the grip on her hair. Even being thrown over his
shoulder had been better than being left alone in the darkness, and she grabbed
for him again, catching him around the knees. Automatically he tried to step
away from her entangling arms but she lunged for him. He uttered a startled
curse, tried to regain his balance, then crashed to the ground. He lay so still
that Jane's heart plummeted. What would she do if he were hurt? She couldn't
possibly carry him, but neither could she leave him lying there, injured and
unable to protect himself. Feeling her way up his body, she scrambled to crouch
by his shoulders. "Mister, are you all right?" she whispered, running
her hands up his shoulders to his face, then searching his head for any cuts or
lumps. There was an elasticized band around his head, and she followed it, her
nervous fingers finding an odd type of glasses over his eyes. "Are you
hurt?" she demanded again, her voice tight with fear. "Damn it,
answer me!"
                  "Lady," the man said in a low,
furious voice, "you're crazier than hell. If I was your daddy, I'd pay Turego to keep you!"
                  She didn't know him, but his words caused an
odd little pain in her chest. She sat silently, shocked that he could hurt her feelings. She didn't know him, and he didn't
know her—how could his opinion matter?
                  But it did, somehow, and she felt strangely
vulnerable.
                  He eased himself to a sitting position, and
when she didn't say anything, he sighed. "Why did you jump me like
that?" he asked in resignation.
                  "I'm afraid of the dark," she said
with quiet dignity. "I couldn't hear you breathing, and I can't see a
thing. I panicked. I'm