terms of their costa rican temptation

 Skye frowned, feeling distinctly unbalanced and unsure. ‘I don’t…I don’t think I should go anywhere with a stranger,’ she said, instantly cringing against her own words. Had she really just said that? Maybe she had hit her head.
       ‘So you want to stay out here on the road and just hope that a different stranger comes to your aid?’
        ‘I have pepper spray,’ she said defiantly and then realised she probably shouldn’t have admitted it, if he was actually someone to worry about.
        ‘Good for you. But this isn’t England, the animals here bite and when they do they’re poisonous. And that tightly buttoned shirt isn’t going to keep them away.’
        She couldn’t help but self-consciously play with the button of the collar at her neck. ‘What’s wrong with my—’
        ‘If you don’t lose that blazer and undo a button you’re likely to lose at least half your body weight in sweat in the next five minutes alone.’
        Skye thrust her shoulders back as if readying herself for a fight. ‘I don’t know you. For all I know you could be an axe-murderer!’ She’d definitely hit her head and she definitely needed to stop talking. Because she was in complete agreement with the way Benoit was looking at her right now. She was crazy.
        ‘You have no water, no means of making a fire, you have no means of signalling for help and no real means to defend yourself.’ Her heart was dropping with each and every failing he found in her situation. ‘You’re dressed like a nun—’
        ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you required a dress code,’ she interrupted, glad to find something to be angry with him for because then she might not be so angry with herself for getting into this mess. There was nothing wrong with her clothing, she assured herself. But she was beginning to get quite hot. ‘Would you have preferred sequins, a skirt that barely covers my behind and a pair of stilettos?’
        ‘Personally? Yes. But for now? I would have preferred not to have a stowaway who caused me to crash my car!’
        ‘It wasn’t intentional!’
        ‘Oh, so you accidentally fell into my car?’
        ‘Yes! No. Sort of?’
        ‘If you can’t decide how you got into this mess, how on earth do you plan to get out of it then?’
        ‘Walk,’ she said, hating the way her shoulders raised into a shrug and her voice trembled, making it sound like a question.
        Benoit stalked towards her in just two strides, took her by the shoulders and spun her so that she was facing up the road in the direction they had been heading in the car.
        ‘This way, you’ll reach the next town in about one hundred and fifty kilometres.’ He spun her to face the opposite direction and she tried to focus on the road rather than the way his hands felt on her shoulders. ‘That way, you’ll reach the next town in about eighty kilometres. Good luck!’ he said and stalked off the road and into the jungle.
       ‘Where are you going?’ she called after him, feeling for the first time a real sense of fear swirling in her stomach.
        ‘Home,’ she heard him growl over his shoulder.
        She bit her lip to stop herself from calling him back.
        Think, think, think.
        She could feel panic beginning to build within her. If she stayed she could be waiting for hours before someone found her. But if she followed Benoit into the jungle it would take her further away from…from… She shook her head. He had the map. He was the key to her mother’s treatment. Her stomach twisted as if it had been punched, something she felt almost every single time her mother crossed her mind. He was the only choice.
        ‘Wait.’
        He stopped walking, turned slowly and pierced her with his bright blue eyes. ‘Which one is it, Miss Soames? Am I an axe-murderer or your salvation?’
        She bit her tongue for the first time since she’d got out of the car and he seemed to nod as if he approved of her silence.
        ‘Leave the blazer in the car. You won’t need it,’ he called out as he set off into the jungle.