He reached back and took her hand, tucking her fingers into his back pocket. “Stay close to me. We’re coming up on the river. They’ll have an ambush set.”

Her heart jumped the moment his fingers brushed hers. It was worse holding on to his jean pocket. The heat of his skin seemed to surround her, envelope her, just put her in a cocoon of warmth. She could actually feel him moving, the ripple of his muscles, the fluid steps, more animal than man. She tried to feel her cat, to emulate the flow of his body, but she seemed that little bit out of sync, occasionally stumbling over the uneven ground now.

She’d always had good night vision, but her sight wasn’t like it had been earlier when her cat had been close. She knew the difference now, just as she knew she was fairly experienced in the rain forest, not like Adan, but she’d been superb with her cat close.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice was a bare thread of sound, projected—almost—into her mind rather than heard. She felt the vibration go through her brain like a heat wave. She curled her fingers around the edge of his pocket, an involuntary reaction, and instantly he halted and half turned to her, bending his head close, his palm cupping the side of her face, thumb brushing a reassuring stroke along her cheek.

“You aren’t afraid, are you? I won’t let anything happen to you, Isabeau. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I give you my word I’ll guard you with my life. There’s no need for fear. We’ve got friends close by. If it’s too difficult here on the ground, I can take you back up into the canopy and you can wait while I help them clear the way to safety.”

She shook her head. “I want to stay with you. I’m not afraid.”

“You’re shivering.”

Was she? She hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t because she was afraid of the men sent to kill them—or rather to kill Adan. Excitement. Anticipation. Even being close to Conner again. “Just nerves,” she said, simplifying without lying. “I don’t want to have to kill someone. I think I could if I was defending someone else, but I’m afraid I’d hesitate and get everyone killed.”

There was a part of her that wanted to jerk away from him and tell him to quit touching her, but another, more masochistic part craved each brush of his fingers, every intense, compelling look from his shattering gaze.