heart. “I’m sorry, Ari…you just don’t have your mother’s education and training. You never took a course in art.”
Pressing both hands to her heart, Ari fought back the tears. She felt like such a loser. She wanted desperately to please her father, but this thing, this urge deep in her heart and gut, was driving her like a fanatical force that would no longer be ignored. She had to respond to it, to how she really felt. Heart aching, Ari whispered, “I know I’m a lousy artist, Father. I don’t even pretend to call myself one. But I love to sketch. I used to sketch with Mom all the time. Remember how she’d loan me some of her paper and colored pencils and we’d both draw the orchid she chose?”
“Only too well,” Ben admitted tiredly. On the walls of Ari’s condo were at least ten of Ellen’s original paintings of her beloved orchids. Ellen had been a small sensation in the art world with her talent for portraying the luscious, feminine-looking orchids. It had started as a hobby, but she had eventually made a lot of money at it, as well as achieving no small amount of fame.
Ben studied Ari. She looked helpless to him, her hands pressed against her small breasts, her eyes pleading. What tore at him most were the unshed tears he saw in them. Dammit, he didn’t mean to hurt her or make her cry. Ellen would cry at anything and everything. Ari was no different.
“Look,” he said gruffly, “I’ve got your airline ticket here, your passport and everything you need. You’re going, okay?”
Instantly, Ben saw a shining, joyous light come to her large, widening eyes.
“Oh, thank you, Father!” Ari leaped off the chair, came around the coffee table and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a fierce hug.
“Ari…don’t get carried away,” he ordered brusquely, untangling his daughter’s arms from around his neck. “You’re not a little kid anymore,” he muttered. “You’re a young woman….”
Laughing delightedly, Ari sat there, one leg beneath her on the couch as she felt a thrill of freedom flow through her. He was going to let her go to Manaus! Suddenly she was scared. She’d lived with fear all her life, so this was just a new kind to her. It felt delicious in comparison to her other fears, however. Soaring giddily on the news, she said, “Father, are you saying I’m too old to give you a hug every now and then?” He had always been uncomfortable with touching and holding, and Ari never understood why. Her mother had been such a toucher and hugger in comparison, but Ari had never seen her parents kiss or even hold hands out in public. Yet she knew to this day that her dad still loved her mother fiercely. Her photos were everywhere in his condominium and on his desk at the Pentagon. Ari knew he kept a color photo of her mother in his wallet, too.
“You’re growing into a young woman,” he said bluntly. “You and I have to adjust to that.” He hoped by using Morgan’s words that he could help Ari feel a little more confident about herself. A little more sure. Ben had never seen such a flighty, uncertain person as Ari. He blamed it on the unexpected death of Janis and then her mother. Despite their age difference, Ari and Janis had been very close. And Ari had almost given up on living after Janis died. She was just a shadow, no, a mouse who ducked and dodged her way through life, running to the safety of her dream world.
Trying to quiet her spontaneous outburst, because she knew her father disapproved of effusive emotional displays—touching him with her hand or, heaven forbid, hugging him around the neck— Ari asked, “Is all of that for me?”
“Yes.” Ben held up the packet. “I talked to an old friend of mine today. He knows someone—a guide down in Manaus—who is going to help you.” Ben did not mention that Rafe Antonio would also act as her bodyguard, because he knew Ari would instantly rebel. Let his daughter think she was on her own. He placed a color fax in her hands. “This is a photo of Rafe Antonio. He’s a forest ranger near Manaus. He’s got a camp three hours east of there on the Amazon River. I’ve hired him to help you hunt for your orchids. You can stay at his camp, which is near one of the Indian villages he takes care of.”
Awed and stunned by her father’s help, Ari held the paper in her hands. The man in the photo wore a short-sleeved khaki shirt with some kind of emblem on the sleeve. He was standing languidly on what appeared to be a very old, beat-up houseboat. She could see a wide, muddy river behind him. The Amazon? She hoped so. He was so tall and athletic looking as he rested his elbow on top of the wooden pilot house. His face was square, his skin a golden color, his hair short and jet-black. His eyes were filled with laughter, and the wide smile showing his even white teeth made her smile in turn. He looked like an adventurer. Ari’s heart began skipping wildly. Rafe was terribly good-looking, in her opinion. Was he married? Did he have a lot of kids? Ari thought so. He looked married.
“He has a kind face, Father.”
Ben snorted. “You’re just like your mother, Ari, thinking you can look at someone’s face and know him.”
“Sure you can.” She saw her father frown in disapproval. Lately, she’d been getting awfully mouthy around him. Normally she kept such thoughts to herself. Ever since the desire to go to the Amazon had taken hold of her soul and heart, she couldn’t keep the words, her true feelings, from spilling from her lips. Cringing inwardly, she saw the censure in his eyes.
“This man is to be trusted,” Ben said with an effort. He didn’t want Ari to know he was a mercenary in the employ of Perseus. Otherwise she would become suspicious. He had carefully extracted the info from the paperwork he was about to give her. “I’m leaving his résumé and curriculum vitae with you. You can read it on the flight down to Manaus. He’s got a degree in biology. Where he works, there’s plenty of orchids to keep you happy.”
“Wonderful!” she gushed. “Oh, I’m so happy, Father. Thank you!”
“I don’t approve of you going down there, Ari. Don’t mistake what I’m doing. I’m very disappointed you aren’t taking that job on Wall Street which I worked hard to get for you. You think life is easy. You think you can just traipse off on this airy-fairy dream of yours. You never took journalism in university. You need to do that if you want to write a book. And you don’t have a degree in art. I don’t know why you think you can create a book of orchid sketches with text and actually sell it.” Raking his fingers through his hair, he pinned his daughter with a dark gaze. She hung her head and avoided his eyes, as always.
“I’m doing this for you because I know you’ll do it anyway and I’d prefer you had my help. And dammit, I don’t want to see you floundering around in a foreign country, in a strange city, trying to find someone who can help you hunt for orchids. Chances are you’d be robbed, killed or worse, kidnapped, and I’d get a call for a million-dollar ransom to get you back. No, Rafe Antonio is in place because I want you as safe as you can be on this jaunt of yours.”
Pain filled Ari. “I—I understand, Father.”
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” he demanded, barely keeping the anger out of his voice.
Looking from side to side, still afraid to meet his eyes, which Ari knew snapped with frustration, she said, “I don’t really know. Mom said it would take at least three to six months to find enough orchids to fill a book. And then I’d need to go to New York to talk to publishers, get them to buy it.”
Ben sat there helplessly. “Six months? You’re going to be in Brazil for six months?”
“I don’t really know, Father. It could be more or less. Mom figured it would take about thirty orchids per book. If I can find them sooner, I’ll be back sooner.”
“The
