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Or the barbecue at El Sueño when she’d bitten into a toasted marshmallow before it had cooled enough, and burned the tender inside of her mouth. And what about the first time she and Bianca, both of them new to America, had gone ice-skating at Rockefeller Center?

Bianca had been a natural. Alessandra, not so much.

She’d taken a couple of falls. Her ankles had wobbled.

“I’m going to be black and blue tomorrow,” she’d said, laughing, because, aches and bumps or not, learning to skate had been fun…

Merda!

Was she crazy? Cliff diving. Barbecuing. Ice-skating. Fun things, all of them, even if you got hurt.

But this—running through the jungle, or maybe at this point it was more accurate to describe it as being hauled through the jungle by a man you didn’t know anything about, wondering if the men who’d captured you were hot on your heels, knowing they damn well would be, soon enough…

This had nothing to do with fun.

This was life and death. Her life. Her death. And Superman’s.

Alessandra wheezed.

How long until her captors woke from their drunken stupor and realized she was gone?

It would be full dawn soon. Yesterday, Skinny and Stubby had awakened once the sun was above the tangled jungle foliage. If they did the same thing today, there were only precious minutes remaining until they discovered she was gone.

She felt as if they were running at marathon speed, but she suspected the man with her would have been able to move twice as fast without her.

What would happen if her abductors caught up to them? Her rescuer had said he was here to take her home, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think he was willing to sacrifice his life to accomplish that.

She knew nothing about him except that he was tall and hard-muscled and gruff. What she needed to know was who had sent him. How he’d found her. What was his plan? How would he get them out of this alive?

“Stop.”

The word was quietly spoken, but it was a command. Alessandra lurched to a halt. Superman let go of her hand and she bent double, her hands on her knees, gasping for air like a carp on dry land.

When she could breathe again, she straightened up and looked around.

She recognized this place.

A huge downed tree blocked the path just ahead.

She remembered it from hours before, when she’d come through here with her kidnappers. She’d had difficulty climbing over the tree, especially without the use of her hands, and the two men had found her efforts hilarious. Eventually, she’d managed, but the rough tree bark had left welts and cuts on the tender flesh of her thighs.

“Can you get over that tree?” her rescuer asked.

She nodded, because surely it would be simpler this time with both hands free.

Wrong.

She tried, but she was too exhausted.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down on the already swollen flesh. A sob of complete despair rose in her throat.

Her rescuer scooped her up and carried her over the tree as if she were weightless.

Her head fell against his shoulder. Being held felt so good. And she was so tired…

He dumped her on her feet. She swayed a little and he reached out and clasped her shoulders. His hands felt hard on her; his touch was impersonal.

“We’re not safe yet. Understand?”