Page 29 of Love in the Wild

“More dates?” Thorne asked.

“More dates,” Eden confirmed.

She burrowed close again, and he sighed as he held her in his arms while she drifted to sleep.

“Thorne dream of having mate for many years,” he whispered to her, unsure if she was awake enough to still hear him. “Thorne has wish ... wish for love, for mate to cherish and care for always.” He wanted to tell her how much love he held in his heart for her already.

He brushed a hand over her cheek, unable to stop smiling. “Thorne give all that Thorne has to have Eden, to keep Eden.”

His body was a riot of hunger and needs. He didn’t know what to do, at least not fully. His male parts ached with the need for release, a thing he had done often enough alone, but now that Eden was here, he wanted to ease the ache with her and give her pleasure in return. But she wasn’t ready yet.More dates.

Twilight stole over the clearing, casting shadows on the sleeping gorillas, making Eden’s pale hair glow like moonlight. The leaf necklace around her neck glowed a dark gold.

He closed his eyes. Memories, bright and beautiful, cut through his heart in an equal mix of joy and pain.

His tiny hand curled around the leaf and held tight as he fell asleep on his mother’s lap. Thorne could hear their voices, Mummy and Daddy, their words too soft to hear precisely. But the sound of it, the familiar cadence, was a comfort that made him feel safe and loved.

When Thorne opened his eyes, he was back in the jungle, the place that had been his home for almost all his life.

He swept his eyes over the sleeping gorillas. Was Eden right? Did his human uncle care about him the way he cared about Akika’s son? If he did, did Thorne owe him answers?

His heart told him yes, but he was afraid to leave the only world he understood. Bwanbale had tried to explain the world of men once, but it had confused and frightened him, so he had stopped.

But if he didn’t leave, he might lose Eden. This was not her world, and he couldn’t make it her world. He had nothing to offer her except himself, but would it be enough?

* * *

Jean Carillet stoodoutside the offices of Holt Enterprises in Fort Portal, about a hundred miles from Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National Park. Night was falling. His shirt was soaked in sweat, mud, and blood. His hands still shook. He had spent two days trying to find his way out of the forest and getting a ride to Fort Portal.

Without Roger Cash to guide him, he was lucky to still be alive. Jean shuddered. All of the men from Holt’s treasure team were gone, Cash included. Slaughtered by some wild creature. Jean wasn’t sure what worried him more—hearing that animal’s roar reverberate across the jungle or breaking the news to Holt that they hadn’t found the treasure cave.

He squared his shoulders and entered the lobby. It was expensively decorated, but it was empty now, given the late hour. Jean scanned the mahogany furniture and valuable works of art on the walls. He had been here once before when he had flown in from France to work for Holt Enterprises as a gemologist. He was supposed to assess the value of the diamonds recovered from the jungle cave. The amount of money Mr. Holt agreed to pay him for his silence was staggering. Jean was no fool. What Holt was doing wasn’t legal, but Jean was human like anyone else, and agreed to forget the legalities and focus on the prize.

He hadn’t signed up for slaughtering tourists who had just come to take pictures. Moreover, he hadn’t signed up for being slaughtered in the jungle by that creature. Half-mad with delirium, he had thought that it looked almost human. But no, it had to be some strange form of mountain gorilla.

Holt’s office was open. The door was slightly ajar, and gold light cut through into the darkened lobby. Jean stopped at the threshold of the office and knocked.

“Come in,” a deep voice commanded.

Jean stepped inside. Archibald Holt was in his mid-forties, the age where a man either retained his physique or promptly lost it. Jean was thirty-seven and already felt the changes in his body, the signs that it would be a battle to keep thin and fit. Holt had made his own choice clear. The man was tall, his dark-brown hair was cut short, and his tailored suit fit the muscular thickness of his form like a second skin. He looked lethal.

Holt rose from his desk. “Mr. Carillet. ” His cold blue eyes swept over Jean’s bloody, sweat-soaked clothes. “I see that there’s been a problem?”

“Oui.” Jean wanted to collapse in one of the expensive leather armchairs facing Holt’s desk, but he stayed where he was.

“What is it?” Holt demanded. His tone was still calm, but that worried Jean even more.

He cleared his throat. “Monsieur. Cash was leading us toward the cave, and we came upon a group of tourists, mostly American, who were there to see the gorillas.”

Holt did not speak. He merely waited, still as a lion, eyes unblinking.

“Well, Mr. Cash gathered them up and shot them.”

Jean shouldn’t have been surprised by Holt’s lack of a response to this news. But of course, Cash hadn’t gone rogue, had he? He’d followed orders.

“And?”

“He killed all but one.”

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