Deadly Race by Margaret Daley Page B

crystal clear mountain streams when you needed one?
    “We can’t drink that!” She pointed at the offending river of water and realized survival in the wilderness would never be her thing.
    “I agree. But if we follow it upstream, we should come upon its source. And at least we can wash off in it.”
    “I don’t swim in water that I can’t see through. Ever since I was nine and encountered a snake in a muddy river, that has been one of my cardinal rules. I think I’ll pass on washing myself off.” Ellie wrinkled her nose in disgust as she stared at the river, her imagination running rampant with visions of what was lurking just below the brown surface. She thought of those nature shows she had seen on television and remembered that piranhas swam in schools and could tear the flesh off something in a matter of minutes. Her skin crawled. Did piranhas live in the fresh water of Bella Isla?
    “Are you sure you don’t want to wash off some of that dust and dirt you’ve collected along the way?”
    “It’s part of my earthy motif, remember. I’m not ready to give it up just yet.” She sat down on the bank to watch him. Her skin continued to itch unbearably, but she wasn’t desperate enough to use water that had more dirt in it than she had on her.
    Slade stripped off his shirt and knelt at the edge of the river. The broad expanse of his back drew her unwavering attention as he cupped his hands and dipped them into the water. He seemed to fit right into this wild and rugged terrain, like a chameleon that could change its color to fit its environment.
    “This doesn’t bother you, does it?” Ellie spoke her thoughts out loud.
    “Not particularly. I suppose it helps that I’ve been in a jungle before.” He twisted about, water dripping from his hair and face.
    “Where?”
    That shadow crossed his face, and Ellie again sensed she had trodden into forbidden territory.
    “A long time ago, best forgotten.” He removed his shoes and socks as though he were accustomed to bathing in a river everyday. “This wouldn’t be my first choice for a vacation, but I can’t change what’s happened to us.”
    “So you’re a practical realist who probably never daydreams.”
    “Oh, I have my dreams, but they are grounded firmly in reality. I’ve learned to think everything through, to weigh the pros and cons.” He waded out into the river and completely submerged himself.
    Ellie was thankful he had at least left his pants on. It was hot enough without being treated to a full view of his splendid body minus clothing. When he resurfaced, looking insufferably refreshed and cool, she gave the water a longing gaze. She felt sticky, dirty and anything but appealing.
    “Come on in and join me. I admit it doesn’t look too good, but the water feels great.”
    She cocked her head to the side. “I guess it doesn’t look too bad.” And his skin was still intact.
    He spread his arms wide. “As you can see, I’m still here, alive and well. No giant boa has gotten me.”
    “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. I doubt we’ll be running into a Holiday Inn before nightfall.”
    “No, I doubt we will,” he said with a laugh and came back to shore.
    “I wonder how many bugs are in this.” Kneeling next to Slade at the edge, she gingerly dipped her hands into the water and splashed her face. It felt great. “Maybe not too many.” Again she filled her palms with water and washed the dirt and grime off her face, relishing the partial bath.
    “I think that’ll do,” she said after the third handful of water. She suddenly had the need to control something. “I need my mirror.” She started for his duffel bag, deciding to do what she could with her appearance since she couldn’t change much else.
    “What for? You look fine except for this one spot. I’ll take care of it.”
    Before she could move away from his disturbing touch, he wiped the dirt off her cheek with one hand while the other was under her chin, tilting her