The Heart of the Jungle by Jeremy Pack

Author:Jeremy Pack [Pack, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

Chapter 11

CHRIS had spent the evening hunched against the headboard. With nothing to do but think, he imagined any number of horrible deaths for Jason in the lonely hours that seemed to stretch out to infinity.

Shortly after midnight, he heard the clicking of the lock announcing Jason’s return. He flew from the bed. Against all propriety, he rushed across the room and threw himself into Jason’s arms. “Oh,” he breathed, “thank God you’re all right.”

Jason seemed taken aback by the uncharacteristic abandon, but his body didn’t. He automatically enfolded Chris in a deep embrace. When Chris looked up at him, Jason’s expression was one of surprise.

When the outpouring of relief had run its course, Chris pulled back and took a long, lingering look, reassuring himself that all of Jason’s limbs were firmly in place and that he was truly safe and whole. Only when he had completed his examination did he finally dare to draw a deep breath.

“Wow, I guess you were worried,” Jason said with a grin.

“You were walking into a death trap. What else would I be?”

“Can I go out and come back in? Will you do it again?”

Chris groaned, and then his expression turned serious. “Did you find anything out?”

“Are you hungry?”

“What the hell is it with you and food?” Chris stared at Jason in openmouthed amazement. “You should be the size of a blimp, as much as you worry about eating.”

Jason strolled over to the phone and picked it up, ignoring him. “Because I’m starved. Want a cheeseburger?”

“If you dial room service, I swear I’ll break your fingers.”

“You’re cute when you’re feisty.” Jason dialed the telephone and grinned over at him in devilish delight. “You’re cute all the time, but particularly when the Irish comes out.”

Chris glared. If he really could have made good on the finger-breaking promise, he would have. “I hate you.”

Jason ordered two cheeseburgers, french fries, and Budweisers, then disconnected. He doffed his jacket, draped it over the chair, and unbuttoned his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Chris asked, ire deepening his voice.

“I can’t eat a cheeseburger in this. I’m returning it. I’m a private detective, for Christ’s sake. I can’t very well afford to keep a seven-hundred-dollar shirt.”

What the hell kind of game was Jason playing with him? Why was he acting like this? “Are you going to tell me what you found out from Hopkins, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

Jason paused in his unbuttoning and made sexy eyes in Chris’s direction. “I’ll take the beating option, if you don’t mind.”

This was intolerable. Jason was, as he had originally surmised, an insufferable, self-centered jerk. That was the only explanation for this callous teasing. He had to know Chris was tied in knots with anxiety. How could he have thought that Jason’s insensitivity was just a show? How could he have imagined he was developing feelings for this coldhearted creep? Tears of helpless frustration welled in his eyes.

The tears seemed to snap Jason out of his teasing mood.

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