Jewel of Atlantis

He took comfort in that, inhaling and exhaling, then determinedly pushing the subject from his mind. He'd deal with each change as it came and not worry about it beforehand. Right now he needed to radio OBI, let them know he was okay. And he didn't want Jewel to hear the conversation. As he struggled to a sitting position, he pinned her with a pointed stare. 'Why don't you go to the river and wash, honey. You've got mud all over you.'

'No, you're too weak—'

'I didn't want to say this,' he said, cutting through her words, 'but you've forced me. You kind of smell.' Unlike Jewel, he could lie his ass off. She smelled wonderful; she always did.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open.

'Come on,' he said. Gray pressed his lips together to keep from smiling, humor at her distress overshadowing the darkness inside him. He wanted to laugh out loud at her horrified expression. He pushed to his feet, every muscle and bone in his body screaming in protest. Damn, he hurt. He picked up his backpack. 'I'll escort you down there.'

Cheeks flaming red, she squared her shoulders and hugged her makeshift robe more tightly around her.

They lumbered to the river's edge, and Gray did a perimeter search. 'Everything appears safe and sound.'

'Then you can go back to camp,' she huffed. 'You are not watching me bathe. And if you need me, well, don't bother yelling. I won't come to your rescue.' She stomped away, but paused and turned, facing him. The blue of her eyes gleamed with wicked retribution, 'Oh, and Gray? I plan to bathe naked, letting my hands linger on my breasts and between my legs.'

Truth. She couldn't lie. 'Thanks for that,' he said wryly, already growing hard, delicious images racing through his mind.

'You're welcome.'

While she bathed—naked and touching herself in all the places he wanted to touch, damn it!—he trudged a few feet away and eased down behind a bush. Her words brought images of soft, peach-colored skin, lips parted on a breath, dark hair spread like a rain cloud around her shoulders. Nipples hard and begging for his mouth. Legs—

'Damn it.' He withdrew his transmitter. 'Santa to Mother.'

Static, then, 'Mother here.'

'Will have package in about two days and head home.'

'You've got us worried, Santa. Delivery is taking longer than expected.' 'Maybe next time you need to rethink the words 'in and out.''

Pause. 'What do you mean?'

'You know the text we discounted? Well, it's true.'

'You mean—'

'Yeah. That's exactly what I mean. Read The Book of Ra Dracas again and work me up a list of every creature's weaknesses.' He didn't know why he hadn't thought of Ra Dracas before. 'Have you learned anything else?'

'We found something, but we're not sure we translated it right.' 'Tell me anyway.'

'Basically anyone who tries to snuff out the breath of life from the Jewel of Dunamis will earn the gods' darkest wrath.' His boss paused again. 'How can a gemstone breathe? Is it alive?'

Good questions.

A completely ingenious/dumb-ass idea crashed into his mind, and he stiffened. He blinked his eyes. No. Surely not. But... maybe. 'I need to think about this,' he said. 'Will contact you later for that list. Over.'

Gray set the radio aside, intent on finishing his tasks before he allowed himself to work on the puzzle that had presented itself with his boss's words. He checked his GPS system, only to discover the stupid thing was broken. He didn't understand. It wasn't water damaged, wasn't smashed. For a long while, he reworked the wires, reconnecting and tightening, to no avail. Disgusted, he finally shoved the priceless piece of shit into his backpack.

Because he himself wasn't at his best, he needed his equipment to pick up the slack. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. He expelled a frustrated breath. If he and Jewel were going to sleep out in the elements for another night or two, he'd have to build some sort of shelter, preferably something he could hook to his back and carry. Something to hide and protect them.

His gaze scanned the surrounding area, mentally cataloging what he could use. Twigs, leaves, rocks. He should have brought a camo tent, but hadn't thought he'd need one.

'That damn Jude Quinlin.'

Gray lumbered to his feet. His head pounded sharply, and his wounds pulsed. His legs were still weak from blood loss, and his vision swam, but he managed to stay upright. He really, really wanted to stroll down to the river and shock Miss Prudence Merryweather right out of her inhibitions. To catch a glimpse of those long legs that stretched all the way to paradise... that soft belly and rounded waist... those small, pert breasts and pink-as-berries nipples that begged for his mouth...

'Don't do this to yourself again, man.' Too late. His body hardened, and he forgot all his aches but one. But Gray stayed put—and not because of any gentlemanly tendencies. 'Damn shelter,' he muttered, adding it to his shit list with Quinlin.

Jewel was a walking contradiction, a smart-mouthed, freaky little sex puppet slash shy, innocent virgin nun. Both sides of her intrigued him, and he enjoyed watching the two sides of her nature battle for supremacy. He often found himself wondering which would ultimately prevail. The angel or the tigress? Or a combination of both?

As he forced his attention on his surroundings, the sound of splashing water echoed in his ears as loudly as screams of pleasure. He could very easily imagine droplets of water cascading from Jewel's plump breasts, dripping onto her stomach, gathering in her navel, begging for his tongue, before finally catching between her legs and—

'Not again.' He slapped himself across the face. 'Concentrate, man.' He rubbed his cheek, feeling several days' worth of stubble. 'Work. You have work to do.'

Holding his stinging side, Gray gathered branches and leaves, vines and sapling. Over the years, he'd constructed hundreds of hideaways; the actual building was most likely ingrained in his cells. His expert eye quickly found the best location, a spot that provided an escape route yet hid them under a sloping hill and between two trees.

The trees stood roughly five feet apart. Using the rope he'd stolen from the centaur, he tied a long, solid branch to each trunk, reaching as high as possible. He crisscrossed the sapling and vines he'd gathered, working his way down the beam, then did the same to the other side. Sweat trickled down his brow, and he wiped it away with the back of his wrist.

By the time he finished the framework, his arms were shaking and his knees knocking. He hated weakness of any kind—especially in himself. He sipped at the water in his canteen, then jumped back into his work.

After he covered the braided vines with brush leaves and grass, he pulled back and studied the end results. 'Not bad,' he said with a nod. Not a five-star resort, but it would hide them from their enemies and protect them from the elements. When the time came, he would untie the vines from the trees and fold everything up, hitching it to his backpack.

Deciding to rest while he could, Gray eased to the ground. He closed his eyes. Rocks dug into his back, but relaxing proved easy. All around him, the insects were creating a soft symphony. Who needed an MP3 player when the sounds of nature performed twenty-four seven?

He rubbed his temples. How long would it take him to heal completely? He knew better than most it was best to keep moving, and keep moving quickly, never staying in the same spot long. Less chance the enemy could ferret him out.

'God, I need a vacation.' Once he returned home, he'd go to the beach, find himself a woman and rid himself of his growing need for Jewel.

Funny thing, though. No woman appealed to him but Jewel. His body wanted her, and only her. His mind wanted her, and only her. The thought of being with another woman felt wrong, and the thought of being without Jewel made him sick. And Gray didn't think a few nights, a month, a year away from her would diminish his obsession in any way.

He hadn't lied to her. If he stayed, OBI would continually send agents inside Atlantis, looking for Dunamis.