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collapsed in shock and horror. Her heart pounded in her throat, choking her with its force, and nausea surged, threatening to spill her recent meal on the dirt floor.
    She’d heard enough. Heard and comprehended enough to understand. Jonathan had brought her here? Pretended to be captured and in danger? But he had given her to these people…for a map ?
    Her breathing became short and fast, and Jane spun back into the hut, looking for something that could be used for a weapon. Something. Anything.
    With a roar of fury borne of deep, dark pain, she found a wrist-thick stick still burning in the fire. Yanking it free, she turned toward the door just as it opened to reveal her guard—presumably to investigate her shout.
    Jane was so incensed, so blinded by rage, she swung the flaming stick at the man in the doorway. He was taken by surprise and stumbled out of the way as she burst out of the hut.
    “Jonathan! You foul , lily-livered, dog-licking snake !” she screamed. She managed only a few steps before several hands grabbed her, pulling her up short, and yanked the flaming stick from her hands.
    She kicked and fought, bit and screamed like a wild woman; all she wanted was the chance to kill him. To maim and torture him.
    To destroy the man who was supposed to love her .
    Jonathan, for his part, leapt behind Cold Eyes when Jane first came into view, but once she was subdued, he stepped back around.
    “Jane!” he cried as she snarled and hissed, determined to get to him.
    “How could you? Why would you ever do such a thing?” she screamed, fighting, kicking, even vaulting up so her legs came off the ground, cycling furiously in the air in his direction as she was held up by her arms. Thick curls flew in her face, tangled around her arms and shoulders. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her voice was raw with grief and sharp from pain. “Jonathan…”
    At last, she collapsed into the imprisoning hands, still sobbing with fury, shaking with a rage so deep she thought she might never find peace again. Hatred burned in her eyes as she looked at him.
    “Jane, I’m…I’m sorry. I—”
    “Be off with you,” ordered Cold Eyes in stilted yet surprisingly good English. So he had understood her all along. His gaze glittered as he turned to look at Jane, hot appreciation burning in his eyes. “She will injure herself. But she is right. You are a snake. And she is a most magnificent woman.”
    “But…I can’t leave now. It’s night…and the jungle…” Jonathan stammered, his face suddenly glistening with perspiration.
    “Go! You have what you came for. You are no longer welcome here.” Cold Eyes made a sharp gesture and two of his men stepped forward with crossed spears.
    As Jane watched, a combination of horror, rage, and grief fought inside her. With Jonathan gone, there was no one else here from her world. She would be utterly alone.
    But she couldn’t bear to set eyes on him—this man who’d betrayed her in so many ways.
    Yet if he were sent into the jungle at night, surely it would be a death sentence.
    “No!” she cried suddenly. “Let him stay. Send him away at dawn. At least then there will be no blood on my hands…or yours.”
    Cold Eyes looked at her with consideration. “You dare to counter my command?”
    Jane drew her aching body upright, ignoring the twinges and discomfort. It took great effort, but she managed to lift her chin into a haughty expression. “I am a goddess, am I not? You do not wish to anger me.”
    The tribal leader’s expression blazed. “You are indeed some sort of goddess. And I shall soon find out just how much power you do have.” Jane’s insides wobbled unpleasantly at the unmistakable promise, but she held her head high as Cold Eyes turned back to his men. He spoke in their language, and the crossed spears fell away.
    Jonathan surged toward her, but Cold Eyes stopped him. After he gave another short, sharp command to his men, Jonathan was led off and taken out of