She closed her eyes on a mental whimper. No touching! “What are we going to do now? And what about Carlotta? We can’t just leave her there to fend for herself.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s exactly what we have to do. At least for now. We’ll be no good to anyone if we’re caught and hooked up to intravenous drips of Freedom. That cliff was our saving grace. It’s going to take Fuentes’s men time to scale down or go around, and before that happens, I want to make sure we’re long gone. Something tells me Senior has nothing on his mini-me in the psycho department. You good to move?”
“I may need a little nudge,” Penny admitted.
With gentle hands, he helped ease her out of their makeshift hidey-hole. The cave was no more than a dent built into the face of the cliff, but it served its purpose and had kept them hidden from Diego’s searching men for the last…
“How long have I been sleeping?” Penny asked, absently stretching her sore muscles. A zap of pain zipped through her thigh, making her wince.
“Not long. A half-hour at most. You needed a rest and I needed to re-group. Hopefully Fuentes’s men will think we’re dead and will stop looking for us and turn the hell around, but I wouldn’t place all my money on it.”
The shift of moonlight confirmed that at some point while she’d been sleeping, Rafe had channeled his inner jungle mercenary. A combat vest stretched over his broad chest. It was adorned with a collection of ammo clips for the AK-47 draped over his shoulder and the Glock strapped to his thigh.
From head to toe, he looked mouthwateringly good—and dangerous. He tossed a black bag she hadn’t seen before on a nearby rock and began pulling out its contents. Camo pants. Boots. The last thing to come out was a knife with a seriously lethal-looking blade.
“Was there a department store around here that we passed? Or a hunter’s lodge?” she asked.
“It would make it easier for us if there were, but no. Both the clothes and the bag”—he tossed her the pants—“are courtesy of one of Diego’s men who is nearly buck-ass naked and trying to explain why to his boss. It’s no runway material, and the bag isn’t exactly a survivalist’s wet dream, but it’s better than nothing. And by some stroke of luck, everything inside managed to stay dry.”
Penny held up the pilfered pants and lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ll need a good amount of luck to keep these pants around my waist. Tell me you have a belt in your magic bag of tricks.”
“Actually, I do.” Rafe produced a utility belt from the bag. With a flick of his hand, he had it hooked around her waist and tugged her body—and her mouth—straight to his. “But you won’t hear me complaining if your pants happen to fall down. Not one damn bit.”
“I’m sure I won’t, but I think I’ll use the belt anyway.”
“Killjoy.” His mouth twitched with a faint smirk. Way too soon, he pulled away, back to business as he nodded toward the clothes. “You need to change out of those wet things and into something more travel friendly. And make sure you tuck the bottom of the pants into the boots and tie the string up nice and tight.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise, you’ll become a taxi service to creepy critters. Trust me. A few of them bring an entire different meaning to the phrase ants in the pants. And let me tell you, rain-forest leeches are a bitch—and don’t need water to creep into warm crevices.”
When Rafe redirected his attention to his magic sack, Penny shimmied out of her running shorts and smothered a groan. Her leg burned as if someone had shoved a branding iron through her upper thigh, but using a flashlight would risk broadcasting their position. She made a mental note to check it when there was not only some natural light, but a few solid miles between them and the compound.
She slipped into her new clothes, rigging the oversized pants as best as she could with the belt so they didn’t drop down to her ankles. Next were the boots—the very large, oversized ones that would fit easily if her feet were four inches longer. “I’ve never been a fan of clowns and now I get to play one while running for my life.”
Rafe looked her way, his attention dropping to the “borrowed” boots and her noticeably smaller tennis shoes. “That’s not going to work.”
Penny snorted. “You think? I already have a problem staying on my feet but you can forget any chance of it if I have to stumble around in these clod-hoppers.”
The visual of her stumbling through the jungle brought a smirk to his lips, too. “Keep your sneakers on. We’ll just have to make sure we dry them out every time we make a stop. Still, try and tuck the pants into your socks as best as you can.”