But Diego had told her that he had grown up in a slum after his father had abandoned his mother, and it seemed unlikely that he had been kidnapped and a ransom demanded for his release.
The mystery surrounding him grew ever deeper. She glanced at him as he concentrated on steering the Jeep around the potholes in the road. He had tipped his hat forwards so that the brim hid his expression, and she sensed that the barriers he had briefly lowered were back in place.
* * *
The rain did not stop after an hour or so as it had the previous day, but continued to fall in a relentless torrent that turned the dirt road into a muddy river. Clare lost count of the number of times the Jeep became stuck and she had to get out and help Diego free the wheels from the ochre-coloured soup. By late afternoon she was so tired that she moved on autopilot as she aided him in laying wooden planks beneath the Jeep’s front wheels. Diego climbed into the driver’s seat and accelerated until slowly, slowly the vehicle inched forwards. He drove into a small clearing in the trees where the ground was covered in a tangle of creeping vines and watched Clare trudge towards him.
‘I’ll say this, Sister. You are one determined lady.’ There was admiration in his voice. ‘Most people would have given up by now and asked to turn back, but I haven’t heard you complain once about the rain and the damned mud.’ He felt a flicker of something that could have been tenderness as he watched her valiantly try to haul herself into the Jeep. She was so tired she could hardly lift her foot on to the step and she did not protest when he lifted her up and deposited her on the seat.
Clare gave him a weary smile. ‘I will get to Torrente, whatever it takes. A bit of mud won’t stop me.’
She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, giving Diego an opportunity to study her without her being aware of his intent scrutiny. Her nun’s habit and veil were rain-soaked and her shoes and legs were covered in mud. She was pale with exhaustion so that the golden freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks were noticeable against her creamy complexion.
Desire, as inexplicable as it was inconvenient, tugged in Diego’s gut. He liked leggy blondes whose sexual experience matched his own, and he could not understand why it took all his will power to resist covering Sister Clare’s mouth with his lips and kissing her until she responded as passionately as she had when he had kissed her that morning.
She lifted her lashes, and Diego stared into the deep blue pools of her eyes. Deus, why did he feel an urge to open his heart to her and tell her things about himself that he had never revealed to anyone else?
Cursing his stupidity beneath his breath, he restarted the engine and drove back to the road. ‘The rain is easing up and I reckon we’ll get to Torrente in a couple more hours.’
When they reached the town he would leave her at the church and never see her again. She had chosen a way of life that prevented her from having a relationship with a man. And he had to face it, Diego mocked himself, he could not have offered her a relationship. All he wanted was to have sex with her, and once he had sated his desire he would no doubt have grown bored of her as quickly as he did with all his mistresses.
‘Do you know of a big waterfall near to Torrente?’
He nodded. ‘Branco Cachoeirao. The waterfall is three or four miles outside the town.’
‘I believe there is a cave nearby, and inside there is a shrine to the Virgin Mary which was carved out of rock by a missionary who was one of the first non-indigenous people to visit Torrente many years ago.’
Diego shrugged. ‘I was unaware of a shrine, but I know the cave you mean.’
‘Good, because I would like you to take me to it before you drive on to the town. I want to spend the night alone at the shrine in quiet contemplation—’ Clare’s voice faltered ‘—and I’ll make my own way to Torrente tomorrow.’
‘Let me get this straight. You want me to leave you on your own in the rainforest for the night? Sister, you are either crazily brave or just crazy.’ Diego shot a glance at her serene face and was tempted to shake some sense into her. He could not comprehend why she was willing to sacrifice her passionate nature for a life of austerity and physical denial, but he was convinced that her broken relationship with her ex-boyfriend who had cheated on her had influenced her decision to become a nun.
The rain finally stopped, which made the driving conditions easier, and as they drew closer to Torrente Diego reminded himself that Clare’s decision had nothing to do with him. His gut told him she needed to be saved from making a mistake, but his mind pointed out that he was not the man to save her.
* * *
Clare heard the waterfall before she saw it. The thunderous noise of the falls drowned out the sounds of the rainforest that she was starting to recognise: the various calls of hundreds of species of birds, the chatter and shrieks of monkeys and occasionally a deep roar that Diego had told her was a jaguar.
He steered the Jeep down a narrow track where light could barely penetrate through the tangle of trees and vines that formed a living green roof. They emerged into a clearing, and in front was a spectacular sight of white frothing water plunging hundreds of feet over rocks into the river below.
‘If I remember rightly, the cave is further on.’ Diego inched the Jeep slowly through the dense forest, past giant ferns and plants with leaves that Clare estimated were two metres or more in diameter. A huge cliff of grey rock towered so high that she had to tilt her head to see the top. She peered through the eerie gloom of the jungle and saw a black hole in the rocks. The entrance to the cave was overgrown with vegetation, as if no humans had visited the place for a long time.
Diego stopped the Jeep and jumped out. Clare followed him and gave a startled cry when a wild boar raced out of the cave and disappeared into the undergrowth.
‘Do you really intend to spend the night in there?’ he asked sardonically as she lingered outside the cave. He obviously sensed her reluctance to step into the blackness. Swallowing hard, she switched on her torch and directed its beam into the dark space before she walked slowly forwards.
‘Do you think there could be any other animals in here?’ Her voice echoed as it bounced off the cave walls.
‘You might find a rock python.’
‘Funny,’ she muttered, telling herself he was joking. Pythons didn’t live in caves, did they? The light from the torch flickered over something that caught her attention. Heart pounding, she moved deeper into the cave and drew a sharp breath when she saw a face. It was not a real person, she quickly realised, but a statue of the Virgin Mary that had been carved into a rock. The figure was about three feet tall and exquisitely detailed, just as the Mother Superior had described it.
There was something incredibly moving about the statue that a priest had painstakingly carved out of the solid rock a century earlier. It must have taken him months to complete and must have been a true labour of devotion. Clare could not explain why a feeling of calm came over her as she touched the figure of Mary, but her tiredness was replaced with a sense of optimism that she would be able to rescue Becky.
She stood by the statue for some time until she became aware of something moving on a rock close to her. She shone the torch in the direction of the rustling sound, and in the light she saw the glint of greeny-brown scales.
Dear heaven, Diego hadn’t been joking! Giving a scream loud enough to wake the dead, she ran towards the cave entrance and collided full pelt into him.
‘Easy,
