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was pulling the shirt down over her bandaged breast. “It probably doesn’t seem like it, but I got off lucky,” she replied.
    He looked into her eyes. “It’s just a superficial wound so you won’t need stitches. It probably won’t even leave a scar there.”
    â€œIt wouldn’t matter,” she said quietly.
    â€œIt would.” He got up, drawing her up with him. “You’re still nervous of me, after all this time.”
    She didn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t like me.”
    â€œOh, for God’s sake,” he burst out, letting go of her shoulders. He turned away to deal with the medical kit. “Haven’t you got eyes?”
    She wondered what that meant. She was too tired to work it out. She sat down again and picked up her half-eaten meal, finishing it with relish. It was hard to look at him, after he’d seen her like that.
    She fingered the rolled-up pair of camouflage pants she was wearing. “These aren’t big enough to be yours,” she remarked.
    â€œThey’re Maddie’s. She gave me those for you, and the shoes and socks, on the way out of Texas,” he commented when he noticed her curious exploration of the pants.
    He worked with some sort of electronic device.
    â€œWhat’s that thing?” she asked.
    â€œGPS,” he explained. “Global positioning. I can give my men a fix on our position, so they can get a chopper in here to pick us up and pinpoint our exact location. There’s a clearing just through there where we’ll rendezvous,” he added, nodding toward the jungle.
    Suddenly she frowned. “Who’s Maddie?” she asked.
    â€œMaddie’s my scrounger. Anything we need on site that we didn’t bring, Maddie can get. She’s quite a girl. In fact,” he added, “she looks a lot like you. She was mistaken for you at a wedding I went to recently in Washington, D. C.”
    That was disturbing. It sounded as though he and this Maddie were in partnership or something. She hated the jealousy she felt, when she had no right to be jealous. Old habits died hard.
    â€œIs she here?” she asked, still puzzled by events and Micah’s strange skills.
    â€œNo. We left her back in the States. She’s working on some information I need, about the mole working for the feds, and getting some of your things together to send on to Miami.”
    She blinked. “You keep saying ‘we,’” she pointed out.
    His chin lifted. He studied her, unsmiling. “Exactly what do you think I do for a living, Callie?” In the dim light, his blond hair shone like muted moonlight. His handsome face was all angles and shadows. Her vision was still a little blurred from whatever the kidnapper had given her. So was her mind.
    â€œYour mother left you a trust,” she pointed out.
    â€œMy mother left me ten thousand dollars,” he replied. “That wouldn’t pay to replace the engine on the Ferrari I drive in Nassau.”
    Her hands stilled on the fork and tray. Some odd ideas were popping into her head. “You finished your residency?” she fished.
    He shook his head. “Medicine wasn’t for me.”
    â€œThen, what…?”
    â€œUse your mind, Callie,” he said finally, irritated. “How many men do you know who could rappel into a drug lord’s lair and spirit out a hostage?”
    Her breath caught. “You work for some federal agency?”
    â€œGood God!” He got up, moved to his backpack and started repacking it. “You really don’t have a clue, do you?”
    â€œI don’t know much about you, Micah,” she confided quietly as she finished her meal and handed him the empty tray and fork. “That was the way you always wanted it.”
    â€œIn some cases, it doesn’t pay to advertise,” he said carelessly. “I used to work with Eb Scott and Cy Parks, but now I have my own