Man of Passion. Lindsay McKenna

having to babysit my daughter?”

      “I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I’ll contact him and find out. Rafe is someone you want around if trouble stirs. He comes from a very rich, old, aristocratic family in Manaus. His father’s family comes from direct Castilian Spain aristocracy. His mother was a socialite from São Paulo. Señor Antonio is a very rich and powerful man in Brazil.”

      “Sounds like Rafe went his own way,” Ben muttered. “If he comes from rich and successful parents, not to mention aristocratic bloodlines, to be nothing more than a damned forest ranger—”

      “Hold on,” Morgan warned. “Rafe has a Ph.D. in biology from Stanford Medical University in California. He’s written several books on herbs used by the medicine men and women down in the Amazon Basin. He’s widely regarded as an expert on them by scientific and pharmaceutical industries around the world.”

      “Oh,” Ben muttered, “I thought he was just a junkyard dog.”

      “With no breeding and papers?” Morgan controlled his mounting anger. Sometimes Ben Worthington was a snob. He was born of money, power and position, and had not come up through the ranks of the little people, as Morgan had.

      “All right, all right. I was out of line. I apologize. So you think he can handle my daughter?”

      “Rafe won’t ‘handle’ your daughter,” Morgan said softly. “I’ll give him orders to protect her, though, to help her fulfill her mother’s dream. He lives on a houseboat three hours from Manaus. I’m sure he can provide shelter for Ari.”

      “Frankly, I’d like him to talk my bullheaded daughter into coming straight home.”

      “You aren’t going to be able to tell a twenty-five-year-old much,” Morgan said with a chuckle.

      Ben scowled heavily and drummed his fingers on the desk. “Tell this Antonio that if he talks my daughter into doing an about-face at Manaus International Airport, there’s a hundred thousand dollar bonus in it for him.”

      Morgan hesitated. “I’m afraid that kind of carrot dangling in front of Rafe won’t work. He’s got pretty strong moral and ethical boundaries. He can’t be bought off, Ben.”

      “You mean he wouldn’t try and talk my daughter into turning around and getting back on a plane headed for the States?”

      Morgan shook his head. “He’s a man of honor. The type of honor the old Castilian aristocracy still has. Actually, he should be living in Victorian, or maybe Napoleonic, times. He’s fighting for the underdogs, the weak, and those who need the kind of help he can supply. The miners, drug runners and drug lords hate him and have a heavy price out on his head. Rafe is a modern-day knight in many respects. I don’t think he would take money to do something he saw as underhanded to someone like Arianna.”

      Snorting, Ben rolled his eyes skyward. “Just my luck.”

      “I choose people with strong morals and values, Ben. You know that. If they aren’t in that category, Perseus won’t hire them.”

      “I know, I know….” he said in exasperation. “On one hand, I feel good he’ll protect Ari. On the other…well, dammit, everyone can be bought for a price. It just depends upon what’s important to them. Does he have a foundation or something set up for his Indians?”

      “Yes, he does.” Morgan eyed him warily. “If you think a hefty donation to his foundation will make him talk Ari out of staying in the Amazon to complete her dream, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Ben. In this case, Ari is the underdog and Rafe won’t take your side against her at any price.”

      “Just a thought…” Ben leaned back in his chair, pondering the situation. “Well, I’ve got one last chance to talk Ari out of this fiasco adventure of hers. I swear, she’s like Joan of Arc on a mission. I’ve never seen her like this. Before…well, she did what I wanted or asked of her. Now she’s digging in her heels like some kind of fanatical zealot and refusing to budge from her position. This is a girl who always knew the meaning of the word compromise and would bend over backwards for me.” Drumming his fingers again, he added in a frustrated tone, “But not this time.”

      Sitting up, Morgan said gently, “Ben, maybe your daughter needs to spread her wings. She’s at that age. I watch our kids growing up, and every day I see them becoming more and more independent from us.”

      Arching one brow, Ben said, “And you encourage it?”

      “Of course. The last thing Laura and I want are kids who can’t struggle and survive in life. They have to learn how to do that. It hurts us to see Jason and Katy exploring, knowing that they’re going to make a mistake, or learn a hard lesson. No denying it’s painful to watch. But they’ve got to make mistakes, Ben. You can’t keep protecting Ari because you lost your other daughter. And reading between the lines, it looks like you did just that and she’s become very dependent upon you as a result.” Opening his hands, his voice becoming softer, Morgan added, “Loving our kids is hell on our hearts, Ben. And with you losing Ellen, as well as Janis…well, I can’t blame you for wanting to protect Ari like you have. Someday I’m sure she’ll appreciate what you’ve done and are trying to do for her.”

      “But not now?”

      “She’s only twenty-five,” Morgan said, smiling faintly. “Remember when you were in your twenties, Ben?”

      “Yeah, I had a jet strapped to my butt and I was shooting Migs out of the skies over North Vietnam.”

      “Not exactly a safe job, was it? Did you ever think what your parents must have felt or thought?”

      “Not at the time, no. I felt it was my right to do what I wanted to do.”

      “Okay…then transfer that feeling, that driving need to be yourself, to Ari. That’s where she’s at.”

      “Humph.”

      Morgan drank his coffee and allowed his words to sink in. He saw Ben’s large, fleshy features set into a bulldog look of denial. Placing his cup on its saucer, Morgan said, “At least she hasn’t got a jet strapped to her, out in combat. Look at the bright side of this. Hunting down orchids and sketching them isn’t exactly dangerous. Let her off that protective leash you’ve got her on. Rafe Antonio is a man of honor. A modern-day knight. I know he’ll care for Ari like you or I would, if we were in his shoes.”

      “But…she’s just a girl!”

      “Maybe you need to shift how you see Ari,” Morgan warned. “At twenty-five, Ari is no ‘girl.’ She’s a young woman.”

      Rubbing his brow fiercely, Ben glowered across the desk. “Dammit, Morgan, did Ari pay you to come in here and be on her side of this thing?”

      Grinning sourly, Morgan sipped his coffee. “Not a chance, Ben. This is a parent talking to a parent. Jason’s ten. In three years he’ll hit his teens, and from what I’m seeing, he’s going to be a rebel without a cause. A handful. At least Ari is rebelling for the right reasons. She wants closure with her mother’s death and maybe she hopes to find herself—her real self—without any of her family being around. All kids need that adventure in life to give them a sense of who they really are. Ari needs to find out who she is. Not the daughter. Not the sister. But herself.”

      “I should pay you a hundred bucks an hour to be my shrink,” Ben griped good-naturedly.

      Chuckling, Morgan stood up. “I’m going to be late for my appointment with the Joint Chiefs of Staff if I don’t hightail it out of here, Ben.” He thrust his hand out to his old friend. “I’ll have my office fax a dossier on Rafe Antonio, and his photo, to you. You’ll have them by this afternoon. That way, you can talk intelligently with your daughter about him being her guide.”

      “Bodyguard.”

      Morgan released Ben’s hand. “That, too. My office will get in touch with Rafe by Iridium phone satellite transmission. Down there in the jungle, only direct