"Not that I know of." Daniel leaned his rifle against the wall of the cliff beside the cave opening, unstrapped his backpack, and dropped it to the ground. "I was thinking more on the line of bats and

spiders."

"Bats!" She shivered. "I think I'd rather face a bear."

"Well, with any luck you won't have to face either one." He had drawn a small penlight from his backpack and was on his knees starting to crawl through

the low opening. "Though I do think it would be a good idea to examine your priorities in that area."

He seemed to be gone a terribly long time. Dear heaven, she hated just standing there waiting helplessly while Daniel took the initiative. Why hadn't she insisted on going with him? He had been risking his life for her from the moment he had walked into the cabin of the plane she'd been held hostage on, and she was still letting him run risks. That hole looked so dark and creepy.

Snakes! What if there were snakes in there?

She wasn't even aware that she had dropped to her knees until she had crawled halfway through the opening. Oh, dear heaven, it was dark in here. And she could hear no sound in the darkness ahead.

"Daniel?" It came out as a whispering quaver, she noticed in disgust. What a miserable coward she was being. She lowered her head, took a deep breath, and began to crawl forward as fast as she could.

Suddenly her head ran into something solid with a force that made her see stars. She lifted her head swiftly in alarm and she rammed into something equally hard. A chin?

"Ouch!" It was a pained grunt from the bulk in front of her, followed by a shockingly explicit curse.

"Daniel?"

"Who else would it be, for heaven's sake? What the devil are you doing in here? Besides trying to knock me unconscious, that is."

"I was worried about you." She found her arms clutching at him desperately. "Snakes." "What?"

"There might be snakes in here." He was so big and warm and safe. She had slithered forward and now his arms were holding her. She could hear his heart beating beneath her ear, filling the darkness with its vitality. "Why isn't your flashlight on?"

"I was saving the batteries. I don't have extra batteries for this one and we may need it later. 1 used it to check out all the nooks and crannies and then turned it off for the crawl back to the opening." His hands were moving over her shoulders and back in a caress that was sexless, she could tell. Yet his touch was causing hot vibrations to spread to her every nerve ending. "Didn't it occur to you that if you were afraid, it would be smarter not to come crawling to my rescue?"

She shook her head. "If you're afraid of something, you have to confront it. I found that out a long time ago. If you hide your head, it festers inside of you until it poisons you. I had to come."

His hands stopped their soothing caress for an instant. "Yes, I think you did." His lips brushed the top of her head with a feather-light kiss. "You'll be glad to know that your attempt to rescue me wasn't necessary. No snakes. No bats. No bears." He pushed her gently away. "Now, suppose you turn around and crawl out of here? I have a craving for fresh air. This place is smaller than I remembered." He turned her around and gave her derriere an encouraging pat. "Move."

The air smelled clean and sweet despite its heavy heat when she crawled out of the cave. She shifted away from the opening and settled herself with a sigh of relief against the hard stone of the cliff wall. Daniel was close behind and rested beside her. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one before leaning back against the cliff and inhaling deeply. "Oh, sorry." He fumbled for the crumpled pack he had jammed back into his shirt pocket. Would you like one?"

She shook her head. "I don't smoke." "Would you rather I didn't?" "No, I don't mind people around me smoking. I just can't stand the thought of it myself." She closed her eyes and arched her throat to let the fresh breeze touch her with its sweet freedom. "Disease?"

She shook her head. "No, it's the dependency. I can't bear the idea of becoming addicted to them. It frightens me."

"Frightens you?" Daniel's brow arched quizzically. "That's rather strange in a girl who isn't afraid of bears, terrorists, or snakes."

She opened her eyes. "Is it?" She was suddenly rising to her feet. "Did you say there was a creek nearby?"

"At the bottom of the hill in that little cluster of tamarisk trees." He could scarcely see her face in the dimness of the dusk, but her shoulders were oddly

rigid and tense. He slowly crushed out his cigarette on the ground. "Wait a minute and I'll show you."

"No, that's all right. I'll find it." She was already hurrying, almost running down the hill.

Daniel muttered a low exclamation as he got to his feet and followed more slowly. The woman changed moods from moment to moment. One second she was a frightened little girl, clinging to him in the darkness, the next she was coolly strong and mature. And now she was acting as nervous as that high-strung palomino she had been riding in the photograph. If he had to form an instant obsession with any woman, why couldn't it be with one who wasn't as complicated as that Mah-Jongg game Philip was so fanatic about? He had only known the woman one afternoon and she had already aroused in him an entire gamut of emotions. Desire, tenderness, protectiveness, jealousy. If he hadn't been so jealous of her precious David, he'd have been a hell of a lot more diplomatic about staking his claim. He could tell he had almost scared her to death. Not that he wouldn't have established his possession before he turned her over to Clancy anyway. From the minute he had sat down across from her on the plane he had known. It was like the pieces of a puzzle at last slipping into place. God, it had felt weird.

He frowned as he crossed the last few yards to the tamarisk grove. Zilah must think he was the weird one: An ex-mercenary with the edges still rough and unpolished, barging into her life, throwing bombs around and telling her that she was going to belong to him whether she liked it or not. It was no wonder she was acting so skittish.

He would have to curb his impatience and be gentle and civilized. Hell, she was only twenty-one. A college kid who had probably been sheltered from rough bastards like him. What had he been doing

when he was twenty-one? Nam and then central Africa and then ... He couldn't even remember all the countries, all the wars, all the women he had gone

through in all those years that separated them. He'd have to be very careful to keep those years and expenences from intruding between them. Yes, he'd be very discreet and cool from now on and maybe . . .

All thoughts of coolness and discretion fled as he caught sight of her kneeling on the stones that banked the rushing creek. She had taken off her cotton shirt and the straps of her lacy bra were pushed down on her arms as she bathed her face and shoul-ders with a white handkerchief. It was the same handkerchief he had given her on the plane, he realized. Her sunstreaked hair was falling in a straight silky cloak around her. One hand reached up to push the shimmering mass over her shoulder and it rip-pled down her back. She dipped the handkerchief in the water again and wrung out the bit of cotton before running it in slow enjoyment down her arm from shoulder to wrist. Daniel inhaled sharply. He felt as if that leisurely hand was stroking his body, not her own. His loins ached. He could imagine her hand moving so caressingly over him. A pulse hammered in his temple and a heavy heat spread over him in waves of sheer lust. He hadn't made a sound, but she must have felt his presence, for her head turned toward him like that of a startled deer. She went still. Then, when she recognized him in the shadows, she laughed shakily. "I must be more nervous than I thought. You fright-ened me." The tenseness flowed out of her. She bent over the stream to dip her improvised washcloth once more into the water. "This feels wonderful. I'll let you have your handkerchief back in a moment, but if I don't get some of this sand and sweat off me, I'm going to perish."