was jolted violently as the wheels went down another pothole and the truck came to a standstill. Diego revved the engine but the Jeep did not move and, looking out of the side window, Clare saw the wheels spinning round in the mud. When he rammed the gear lever into reverse she held her breath as the Jeep moved backwards a little way before it stopped.
‘What are we going to do?’ Clare had to shout above the noise of the rain hitting the roof. ‘I thought the bad weather wasn’t due for a few days?’
‘It rains every day in the rainforest,’ Diego said ironically. ‘This shower will probably last for an hour. When the wet season starts properly it sometimes rains for days without stopping.’
‘I suppose we’ll have to wait until the rain stops before we can try to dig the wheels out of the mud?’
‘If we wait, the Jeep will sink up to the axles in no time. I’ve got some wooden planks in the back that I’ll put under the rear tyres.’
Diego pulled the brim of his hat down low to shield his eyes from the rain and opened the door. Within seconds of stepping out of the Jeep he was soaked to the skin. ‘Slide across to the driver’s seat,’ he ordered Clare. ‘When you hear me thump twice on the Jeep I want you to start the engine, select reverse gear and then accelerate slowly.’ He looked at her closely. ‘Do you know how to drive a car?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ She had never driven a four-by-four or attempted to free a vehicle that was stuck in mud, but Clare tried to sound more confident than she felt. After some fumbling, she found reverse gear and when she heard two thumps on the bodywork she pressed her foot down on the accelerator pedal. Nothing happened, so she pressed harder until finally the Jeep rolled backwards.
They were free! Feeling a sense of achievement, she smiled at the prospector when he yanked open the door, but her smile faded as she took in his mud-spattered appearance.
‘Santa Mãe! I told you to accelerate slowly. Look at me.’
Clare couldn’t stop looking at him! Even covered in mud he was the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on. She shifted across to the passenger seat so that he could climb into the Jeep. There was even mud on his face, but he still looked gorgeous and he exuded an air of toughness and raw masculinity that made Clare imagine being swept up into his arms and carried off to be thoroughly ravished by him.
His T-shirt was sodden and her heart skipped a beat when he pulled it off to reveal his tanned chest, covered with a fuzz of golden hairs. Heaven help her. He had an amazing body. She could not tear her eyes from his well-defined six-pack and powerful shoulder muscles. Her parents would snap him up on to A-Star PR’s books, but she would feel a lot more comfortable if his toned physique was hidden from her view. ‘Do you have a spare shirt I could find for you?’ Her voice sounded annoyingly breathless.
‘There’s no point. It’s likely the Jeep will get stuck again and I’ll have to get out in the rain to free up the wheels.’ His eyes narrowed on her pink cheeks. ‘Next time, could you not stamp on the accelerator like you’re a racing car driver?’
She was already overwrought with worry about Becky and felt ultra-sensitive to his criticism. ‘I’m sorry you got covered in mud, but I thought you wanted to get the Jeep out of the pothole,’ she said stiffly.
‘You have no idea what I want, Sister,’ Diego muttered. If she did not stop looking at him like she was doing—as if she had never seen a half-naked male before—he would be unable to restrain himself from showing her exactly what he wanted.
He dragged his gaze from her cupid’s-bow lips and tried not to imagine how soft and moist her mouth would feel beneath his if he kissed her. It was likely she had never seen a man’s bare flesh, he conceded. His skin was burning up, but for the first time in his life he could not succumb to temptation. If she had been any other woman he would have suggested they climb into the back of the Jeep so that they could alleviate their mutual desire.
For it was mutual. Diego’s extensive experience of women meant he was infallible at recognising the telltale signs of sexual awareness. Sister Clare was desperately trying to hide her reaction to the chemistry fizzing between them, but her big blue eyes reflected her sexual interest in him that her chosen way of life commanded her to deny.
Deus, women were always trouble, he thought, reaching behind the seat for a beer. He flipped off the bottle top with the opener that, for convenience, he had screwed to the Jeep’s dashboard and lifted the bottle towards his lips but, before he could take a swig, a hand grabbed his arm.
‘Surely you are not thinking of drinking alcohol while you’re driving?’ Clare said in an outraged voice.
‘I’d prefer not to be thinking about it, Sister,’ Diego murmured as he lifted the bottle closer to his mouth and felt her fingers dig into his bicep. Her hand looked pale against his darkly tanned skin. He visualised her naked white body beneath him, her soft thighs spread in readiness for him to possess her. Tension coiled low in his gut and he shrugged her hand from his arm and put the bottle to his lips, his taste buds anticipating his first sip of beer. It was warm rather than ice-cold the way he liked it, but it was better than nothing.
Diego stiffened when Clare leaned across him and he inhaled a fresh lemony fragrance, which he recognised was soap. He supposed nuns did not wear perfume or make-up. Sister Clare’s smooth complexion was entirely natural. Her long eyelashes were dark auburn and he wondered if her hair, hidden beneath her veil, was the same colour.
The jangling sound of metal jerked Diego from his fantasies and he frowned when he saw that she had taken the keys out of the ignition.
‘Drunk driving is a despicable crime and potentially life-threatening to other road users,’ she stated.
He tried to control his impatience. ‘In normal circumstances I agree that driving after drinking alcohol is unacceptable, certainly in a town. But, in case you hadn’t noticed, we are the only people on the road. We haven’t seen another vehicle since we left Manaus, and we won’t see another one because no one else is crazy enough to want to go to Torrente.’
He held out his hand. ‘Give me the keys, Sister Clare, and let’s be on our way. We can’t afford any more delays if you want to reach Torrente by Sunday.’
She had to be there on Sunday to pay Becky’s ransom. Clare remembered the instructions from the kidnappers to wait in a cave close to a waterfall just outside the town. She felt torn, knowing the gold prospector was right and they could not afford to be delayed. But she fervently believed that driving while under the influence of alcohol was wrong.
‘My aunt was killed by a drunk driver,’ she burst out. ‘Aunt Edith was knocked off her bicycle one Christmas Eve. The driver of the car who was responsible for her death was found to be three times over the legal alcohol limit.’
Diego squinted through the mud-smeared windscreen at the torrential rain. ‘I’m sorry about your aunt, but we’re unlikely to come across a cyclist in the middle of the rainforest.’ He looked at Clare, noting the stubborn set of her chin but also the faint quiver of her lower lip. She had the most beautiful eyes, twin sapphires that at this moment shimmered with a sheen of tears. ‘Damn it.’ He exhaled heavily. ‘All right,’ he muttered as he wound down the window and poured the beer on to the ground.
‘Satisfied?’ He glared at Clare as she silently handed him the keys.
The word hovered in the hot, humid atmosphere inside the Jeep as sexual tension exploded between them. Clare’s gaze locked
