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He entered a small room, dimly lit with a lantern in the far corner. Fragrant flowers were strewn all over the floor. The light gleamed off the silver headdress of a woman sitting on a pallet. He stiffened. Were the villagers offering him one of their women for the night?

He retreated a step. "I'm terribly sorry, but - "

"Carlos, it's me." Caitlyn pulled the headdress off and set it on the floor next to the pallet.

"Oh, thank God." He set his weapons on the floor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. They dunked me in a vat of cold water, then stuck me in this robe."

"They made me change, too." He glanced about the tiny house. The pallet was narrow. Too narrow. "Maybe I should bunk down with some of the village guys tonight."

"They expect you to stay here."

"It's kinda small."

"It's..." She hugged her knees to her chest. "I'm afraid this is their equivalent of a honeymoon suite."

He blinked. "Oh, I guess you told Ajay we were pretending to be married."

"Yes." She sighed. "That wily old buzzard. He told me that telling lies would come back to bite me in the butt."

Carlos felt a chill skitter down his bare back. "What are you saying?"

She gave him a worried look. "I don't know how to say this, but...Ajay married us."

Chapter Twenty

Caitlyn winced at the shocked look on Carlos's face. "Don't worry about - "

"He what?" Carlos interrupted her.

"He...blessed our marriage, but - "

"Didn't you tell him it was pretend?"

"Shh, not so loud." She scurried to the opening and pulled the draperies shut that served as a door. "We're supposed to be happily married."

"We're not supposed to be married at all. Why didn't you stop him?"

"It would have blown our cover. I'm not supposed to understand their language." She sighed. "That rascally Ajay knew I wouldn't be able to stop him. He's always been a tricky - "

"Wait." Carlos held up a hand. "Caitlyn, there are times when you let your cover drop. You know, emergencies? This was one of them. You shouldn't have let it happen."

Ouch. "Marrying me is that awful?"

"You know I can't marry you for real."

She planted her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess it's your lucky day, 'cause I don't think it's legally binding."

"That's a relief."

"Oh yeah." She glared at him. "I'm deliriously happy."

He crossed his arms on his chest and scowled back.

She tried not to notice how his biceps bulged and how wide and strong his chest was. Or how warm and sexy his bare, tanned skin looked. The villagers had dressed them in matching outfits. His blue baggy pants were the same color as her blue silk robe. The tattoo around his neck drew her attention. The black and red panther seemed to be watching her. Prowling toward her.

He motioned to the wall behind her. "There's a silver cross hanging there."

"Some of the Akha tribes have converted to Christianity." She glanced at the cross. "Beautiful workmanship, don't you think?"

"Please don't tell me Ajay is a priest."

"I...don't think so." She didn't want to admit that the tribe might see him as their spiritual leader.

Carlos watched her closely. "What exactly did he say?"

"You don't want to know." She pulled on some ropes that held the mosquito netting festooned above the pallet. The netting tumbled down, surrounding the white cotton pallet with a gauzy white film.

"I do," he said quietly.

She slipped under the netting and settled on the pallet. "He said we were kindred souls set on the earth to love and protect each other." She glanced at Carlos.

He was still by the entrance, his stance rigid and tense. "I will protect you. With my life."

That was nice, but he'd left out the part about loving her. She hugged her knees to her chest. "He asked God to bless our union and prayed that we would have many children."

When Carlos remained silent, she quickly added, "It doesn't matter. There was no marriage license. The marriage would not be recognized in the States."

Carlos's eyes gleamed amber in the dark. "Ajay is the leader of his people, and the words were spoken out loud, calling upon God as a witness. Where I come from, that would be enough."

Her heart lurched. Did Carlos actually consider them married? A few seconds of elation quickly morphed into wounded pride, for it was clear that he didn't want to be her husband. Her most dreaded fear crept back to crush her self-confidence. Not good enough.

Outside, someone started banging a drum. Then another joined in, and another. Villagers began chanting. She groaned and rested her forehead on her knees.

Carlos sat on the wood-planked floor. "What are they saying?"

"They're...wishing you great prowess in the sack."

He grunted.

The drums grew louder and the pace quickened. She sighed. It would have been great to make love to that urgent, pounding beat.

Carlos shifted uneasily on the floor. "How long are they going to do that?"

"I'm afraid they'll keep it up until we..." Oh, what the heck. At this point a little more embarrassment hardly mattered. "I know what to do."

"What?"

"Showtime." She stretched out on the pallet and took a deep breath to mentally prepare herself.

"What are you doing?" Carlos scooted a little closer.

"Nothing to see here. Return to your homes," she mimicked an officer at a crime scene.

Carlos snorted, but edged a bit closer to the netting.

She smoothed her hands down the blue silk robe she was wearing and moaned. She grazed her fingertips over the curves of her hips and up her rib cage to her br**sts.

"Aah," she gasped as she palmed her own br**sts. She massaged them gently and groaned even louder.

She rolled onto her stomach and then onto her back once again. "Yes, yes!" She banged her fists on the pallet. "Oh Carlos!"

She heard a hissing sound as he drew in a sharp breath. She planted her feet on the pallet and squeezed her knees together. "Oh my God!" She panted loudly and rapidly. "Yes, yes!" She let out a long scream.

In the distance she heard the villagers cheer. She lifted her arms in the air. "A perfect ten. She scores!" With a wry grin, she turned to Carlos. "Okay, your turn."

He stiffened. "You're kidding."

"It's your honeymoon. Enjoy it."

"Fine." He let out a shout.

The villagers were quiet. Birds chirped in the distance.

Caitlyn snickered.

"They cheered for you," he mumbled.

"That was a measly little shout," she explained. "I've heard men get more excited than that over a pizza."

He gritted his teeth. "They're doubting my sexual prowess?"

She giggled. "I don't think they have any doubts."

"To hell with that." He tilted his head back and let out a long, guttural roar, followed by some victorious hoots.

The villagers cheered.

"Wow. I'm impressed." Not. She was starting to feel angry over being rejected once again. This was not her idea of a wedding night.

"I'm not good at faking an orgasm. I never had to before." He gave her a pointed look. "Unlike some people."

"Ooh, the cat has claws. Maybe I just never cared enough - " She stopped herself. This was getting too personal. And too damned frustrating.

"How long have you been faking it?" he asked quietly.

"Who said I was? I'll have you know that I have an extremely high success rate, especially when I'm doing it with myself. Would you like to watch?"

He ignored her question. "Have you been with other men?"

"Of course. Legions. I set the world record three years in a row."

He scoffed. "I don't believe you."

She shrugged. "I have been known to lie."

"Have you ever been in love?"

I'm in love now, you moron. She gritted her teeth. "What do you care?"

He moved next to the netting. "Have you ever been in love?"

She groaned. "I love to experience new things. I love to travel, learn new languages and cultures, try new food and dances. But when it comes to my heart, that's where I stop being adventurous."

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