in a family where knowing many languages was expected,” he told her, meeting and holding her gaze. Now, instead of darkness in the depths of her eyes, he saw something else. Happiness? Perhaps a sense of safety now that she was away from the madding crowds of foreigners? He knew that being in a strange country made most people feel a little more vulnerable.
“Morgan Trayhern, your boss, sent me your résumé. It’s impressive. I’m so thrilled you’ve got a Ph.D. in biology. And from Stanford. That is really something.”
He nodded. “My knowledge of biology will help you a great deal in your quest for your orchids, Ari.” As he said her name he realized how much he liked it. He liked saying it, and he was glad she wasn’t a stickler for protocol, that she hadn’t asked him to address her more formally, as they did in South America. She had surprised him in that regard. She wasn’t some arrogant, rich brat with snobbish manners. Instead, she was simply herself. Or was she? Rafe knew time would yield that final answer.
“It must have been difficult to leave your family to come to the U.S. for your education,” she said.
“Yes, I had to argue with my father to allow me to come to the States. I’m not sorry I did. I got an excellent education at Stanford.”
Rafe was so easy to talk to, yet as Ari watched him, she realized that despite his relaxed state, he was keenly alert. She noticed that he watched everything in a casual, yet attentive sort of way. She felt an edginess within him, too. What was that all about? Was he disappointed with her? With the fact that she was such a klutz and a loser? That she was a woman he’d have to babysit? Determined to find out over time, Ari tried instead to focus on the joy bubbling in her heart as the cab sped rapidly onto a massive freeway. The tall buildings of Manaus were in the distance, the airport behind them. Ahead, she caught glimpses of a dark, tea-brown river. Was that the Amazon? Her pulse quickened. She was really here. She was on her mother’s journey, the one they’d planned in such detail the last year she’d lived. Clasping her hands, Ari closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a wobbly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Rafe felt Ari retreating within herself when she clasped her hands, sighed and closed her eyes. The flush in her cheeks had subsided and he noticed the porcelainlike quality to her skin. Blue veins were faintly visible beneath her eyes. She wore absolutely no makeup. It would be hopeless where they were going, anyway, with the rains and humidity. It made him feel good that she was so natural. Women who had to paint their faces into a mask were not their true selves, and Rafe admired Ari for her unspoken stand on the issue. Justine had insisted upon wearing makeup when she’d visited his camp. It had run and spotted, yet she was miserable without it. Why? Rafe would never understand why a woman couldn’t be happy with her natural state, just as nature was with her bounty.
He saw that Ari wore simple gold hoops through her dainty earlobes. Around her neck was a fine gold chain holding an oval amethyst, to complement the skirt and sweater she wore. Everything about Ari spoke of delicacy.
Was she a hothouse flower? he mused. More than likely. Women with degrees from Georgetown University, who lived in Washington, D.C., were not equipped for jungle living. Would she be able to bear a life of hardship, without many amenities? Rafe doubted it. Justine had cried every morning because there wasn’t electricity for her hair dryer. Would Ari see the jungle as her friend or her enemy? Probably an enemy, as his ex-fiancée had. Justine had been afraid to walk to the village with him, for fear of a snake biting her or some big bug whizzing by her head. Morgan had said Ari would be with him three to six months, depending upon how her sketches for the book came along. Rafe hoped it was a much shorter duration. Yet Ari intrigued him. So shy, yet with that childlike look of joy and anticipation written across her features. She was twenty-five, but she reminded him of a gawky fourteen-year-old who was just finding out who she was, just tapping into her femininity. He had no idea where his feelings and instincts about her came from; he’d lived so long on his instincts out in the jungle that he no longer tried to explain his sense of intuition about people. And he was rarely wrong about such perceptions because, over the years, his life had depended upon it. The one time he’d been wrong had been with Justine but she’d been a master of artful disguise and manipulation.
As the cab screeched to a halt some twenty minutes later, Ari looked out the window in anticipation. There was a huge river, at least a mile wide, spread out before her. Wobbly, poorly kept wooden docks jutted out from the raised, red dirt bank like dark dominos in the water. At one a huge white houseboat with black tires hanging off the sides was docked. That must be Rafe’s. Before he could leave the cab and come around and open her door, she was out and walking quickly toward the riverbank. Hands clasped to her breasts, she looked around, absorbing all she saw.
The sky was clearing of soft white clouds that hung low over the dark green jungle along the river. She gasped when a flock of brightly colored scarlet macaws flew in a V formation right over her head toward the jungle in the distance.
Rafe came and stood next to her. “I see the goddess of the river has welcomed you to her breast.”
Ari turned and looked up at him, a quizzical expression on her face. “River goddess?”
As the cabby came up with the luggage, Rafe told him to take it aboard the houseboat. Returning his attention to Ari, he saw the soft tendrils of her hair curling in the humidity. The maddening urge to tunnel his fingers through that thick, blond hair was almost his undoing. Instead, he cleared his throat and pointed to the quickly disappearing flight of parrots.
“The Juma believe that the mighty Amazon is a goddess. They pay her tribute by gifting her with bits of cornmeal or other food. The legend is that when she wants to leave her watery confines, she turns herself into a macaw to fly over her domain, to look after it, care for it and all her beings, including the two-leggeds. If Chief Aroka was here, he’d be shouting for joy that that squadron of macaws zoomed over your head at such a low altitude. He’d take that as a sign, a blessing, that the Amazon River goddess is welcoming you to her breast.”
Sighing, Ari closed her eyes. “How wonderful…how absolutely beautiful! That must go in the book. Oh, how I wish my mother could be here….” She opened her eyes and held his dark gaze. “I know she’d have sighed with joy over what you just told me. These are the kinds of stories I want for my book, Rafe! Please, just keep sharing these legends and myths with me, will you? This is what I’ve come down here for.” She flung her arms open and stepped forward. “The Amazon is so beautiful! So wide. So grand! And how powerful she feels to me!” Whirling around, the wind catching her skirt and lifting it to reveal her slender ankles, Ari laughed. It was a laugh of joy, of surrender to the eternal beauty of the Amazon jungle that now surrounded her. “I’m in love! Truly in love! This all feels so wonderful to me!”
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