The tantalizing aroma of roasting meat rumbled her stomach even louder. A native stood beside a cook stove. He stepped forward, extending his hand.
“Seño, please sit, I will bring you a cold drink and fruit. Dinner is not served until eight.” His English wasn’t perfect, but he was easy to understand.
“Gracias. Please call me Isabella, and you are?” She took the offered juice.
“Pedro. I cook for the wonderful people teaching us more about our people.” He smiled and returned with a large platter of bananas, cheese, and tortillas.
“This looks good and the meat you’re cooking smells wonderful.” She sipped the drink and savored its cool sweetness.
He puffed out his chest. “I learn to cook in United States. Doctor Martin, he like my cooking and ask me to help in my own country.”
“So you were learning to cook in California near UC Berkeley?” She knew Virgil ate out rather than hiring a cook.
“Sí. Dr. Martin, he stay late one night. I tell him of my family and how I hoped to send them money once I became head chef. Then a year later he say he has a job for me in my country.” Pedro spread his arms. “And here I am, no? Cooking and helping my people.”
“That’s wonderful.” She wiped an arm across her forehead. “How do you stand the heat in here?”
“I am used to it, no?” He smiled and wandered back to the stove.
The tent wiggled. Isabella glanced at the door. Tino stood in the opening, his gaze resting on her. Proprietary popped into her head at his dark expression. He noted her watching and shuttered his eyes as he advanced.
Tino was still trying to figure out the true relationship between Martin and Isabella. On one hand, they portrayed a parent and child relationship, and on the other, they touched like lovers. He didn’t like the idea of them being lovers and found it hard to believe given the kisses he’d shared with Isabella. But he’d overheard Martin invite Isabella to stay in the tent next to his. That was pretty convenient for midnight trysts.
“I’m glad you’re spending the night. I…” her voice trailed off. Her eyes, however, sought his.
“I needed time with you—” He stopped short noticing the joy emanating from Isabella.
Her lips curved into a sexy smile. Her eyes lit with excitement. He groaned inwardly at the flash of heat ripping through his veins.
“—to talk.” That cooled the heat in her eyes.
“What do you want to talk about?” She bit into a banana. Her lips remained near the end of the fruit, brushing the tip seductively as she chewed.
¡Coño! She pushed his control to the limits.
“Not here.” He wrenched his gaze from her tempting lips and noticed the cook listening. He leaned in closer and whispered, “I will come for you after dark. We will take a walk into the forest.”
She leaned toward him and whispered. “Why the secrecy?”
Wide green eyes framed by wire rims inches from his dared him. He glanced at her mouth. Her tongue swiped once across her full lips and disappeared. His miembro became engorged, and he wanted her so bad his gut tightened.
“Tonight, pichón, I will tell you tonight.” He pushed to his feet before he lost control and pulled her onto the table.
Tino walked toward the exit as fast as he could with his desire rigid in his pants. Once he exited the tent and spotted Walsh arguing with Martin, his need vanished and his instincts took over. From what he’d garnered from talking to the workers, Walsh and Martin hadn’t been getting along. He wasn’t sure why, but he intended to find out. He also intended to discover the identities of the men Walsh had met with in the settlement, and why Walsh then met with narcos. If Walsh was the liaison between the Guatemalan government and the dig, did he also keep the peace with drug traffickers? Or was he in with the narcos?
He’d left his pack against the tent near where the two stood arguing. Tino casually sauntered to his belongings and bent as if taking something from his pack.
“You have to pay the narcos if you don’t want them storming in here and taking everything we’ve dug up and feeding us to the government saying we stole the artifacts.” Walsh’s voice didn’t warble or whine like a person scared of the narcos.
“I won’t pay them anything. All the money investors gave me will go into the dig and not into the hands of renegades. How many ways do I have to say it to make it clear to you? The next time you go to the settlement bring back men to stand guard at night. I’d rather use the investors’ money for protection than extortion. I’ll not have anyone here harmed, and I’ll not give in to the narcos’s threats.” Martin’s gaze drifted from Walsh. His brow furrowed when Tino rose and slung his pack over his shoulder.
“Do you care where I put my tent?” Tino asked, walking toward the two men as if he hadn’t heard every word.
“On the far side. I’d rather you weren’t in the midst of our work.” Martin walked away from Walsh without another glance and straight toward Tino. “I’ll show you where.”
Tino fell into step beside the archeologist. The man was a couple inches taller but as long and gangly as Isabella, giving Tino nearly twenty kilos on the man.
“I didn’t care for your familiarity with Dr. Mumphrey.” Martin spoke low in almost a growling rumble.
“Sí, we became friends,” he replied nonchalantly. Did he detect jealousy? Tino glanced out the corner of his eye. The man watched him intently.
Martin stopped. “Put your tent here.”
He indicated a spot on the side surrounded by the jungle and farthest from the trail. A good place for the narcos to sneak in.
“This works.” He couldn’t contain a smile when he noticed it was also not far from the tent assigned to Isabella.
Martin glanced around and stepped closer. “I’m going to be watching you. Dr. Mumphrey happens to be special to me. I’ll not have you preying on her innocence.”
Tino nodded, hoping he projected a bit of confusion when he really wanted to ask the man how special she was to him. His gut sensed the man’s infatuation was more than mentor or good family friend. The thought soured his disposition.
Tino turned his back to the doctor and pulled his tent from his pack.
“How long have you been a guide?” Martin’s question seemed fair enough.
“In Guatemala, two years. I have traveled much.” Tino continued to erect his tent.
“Juan? How long have you known him?” The skepticism in the doctor’s voice yanked Tino’s instincts into high gear.
“A year, señor. We met on the river and a couple times off the river, no?” Okay, so that was a stretch but unless Martin talked to the real guide, he wouldn’t learn any different until Tino finished with this assignment.
“Is this to kill predators?” The doctor pulled Tino’s rifle from the pack.
“No. I am also a licensed wild cat tagger. That is the gun that puts the cats to sleep.” He claimed his rifle from the doctor and slipped it into the sheath and under his sleeping bag in the tent.
“So you’re pretty good with weapons?”
He didn’t know what the doctor was getting at, but he wished the man would leave and let him finish setting up his space. “Sí. I can shoot a jaguar from the tall branches in the copal tree.”
The doctor nodded his head and stared into the trees surrounding the compound. “Would you be willing to stay on here for a couple days? Just till Marsh has time to bring in some locals to stand guard at night.”
Tino kept his face impassive. The man had just given him a chance to stay close to Isabella. But would that be a mistake considering the way he couldn’t get her out of his mind?
“Why do you need guards at night?” He knew the answer but wanted to see how forthright Martin would be.
“We’ve spotted some unsavory men around here, and I’d like to know my crew isn’t in danger.” The man didn’t look him in the eye and quickly added, “We’ll only need you a couple nights, then you can continue on.”
Martin was makin
g it plain he wasn’t welcome except as a guard until he hired locals.
“I had planned to use the settlement as my base while I hunt for jaguar. I guess I could use this camp instead.” Even as he said the words he wondered at the sanity of remaining close to Isabella. The more time he spent with her, the harder it would be to disappear from her life. But he found Walsh’s actions unsettling, and the fact there was a narco group so close to the dig increased his curiosity about their dealings in the drugs making their way into Mexico and finally the U.S.
“I’d appreciate it and don’t let anyone know the reason. I’d hate to have some of the women panic.” The man’s eyes shone hard and unwavering.
“That is not wise. If there is danger, your employees should know. The more people watching the better.” He zipped his pack and shoved it into the tent he had erected while Martin watched. The man gave him one last, long look then wandered back to the compound.
Tino stared into the forest. Would remaining here a few days jeopardize or help his mission? From the unsavory characters he’d encountered so far, this dig could be sitting in the middle of more corruption than he’d bargained for. And how in the world was he to keep it from affecting Isabella?
Chapter 10
At dinner, Isabella sat between Virgil and Eunice, savoring the delicious spicy stew and talking about past exploits and the artifacts found so far. The conversation around the table inspired her academic side to burst forth. She held everyone’s attention, discussing her project and all she knew about the people enshrined by this tell. She glanced around the table. A trill of happiness clamored up her spine at Tino’s interested expression.
She gazed into his rapt eyes and her words faltered. A nudge in her side brought her gaze level with Virgil’s. His forehead creased as he glanced at Tino and back to her, his eyes narrowing.
She shrugged off his concern and turned to Eunice. “After seeing the stone this afternoon, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep thinking about all the possibilities I could uncover in the drawings.”
Eunice nodded and patted her hand. “I remember once you found the drawings on those vases in Arizona, you didn’t sleep for two days you were so engrossed in deciphering their meanings.” The woman glanced around the tent. “That was when she came up with the thesis she is working on at the university.”
Isabella caught Tino nodding and smiling.
She’d heard him say little during the meal. It was as if he didn’t want anyone to know he was more learned than the front he put on. There were many layers to Tino, and she planned to peel away each one and discover the real man underneath all his subterfuge.
“If you can connect the Chol Mayans with the Hopi you will clear up another mystery about the history of the Mesoamerican people,” Professor Walsh’s voice boomed down the table.
She couldn’t tell by his tone if he was impressed or putting her down. That was the trouble with the British; one never knew whether they were poking fun or being serious.
“I believe that by discovering connections among the ancient peoples we will uncover even more knowledge about them. My findings here will help support funding for DNA testing.” She’d worked toward finding a connection since learning of her own ancestry.
“Fascinating. And what do you expect to accomplish by that?” Again, Professor Walsh’s ingratiating tone seemed to mock.
She glanced at Tino and recognized the anger blazing in his eyes. Walsh’s tone upset him, too.
“I hope to use the information I discover about their travels to classify the peoples and help them understand their roots. Isn’t that what everyone wants? To know their roots and to find a place that brings them peace because they know it was a part of their people for generations?”
“Where are your roots?” Jaycee asked, her gaze darting to Virgil and back to her.
Isabella held the woman’s gaze. “Part of this quest is to discover my roots. My great grandmother was Hopi. That’s how I stumbled onto the Mayan connection. With my mother’s refusal to acknowledge our ancestry, it made me even more determined to discover more about Native Americans.”
Jaycee’s eyes widened as well as those of several others sitting around the table.
“Isabella’s work is more than a shot in the dark. It’s her heritage and a subject she doesn’t take lightly, which is why I’ve been behind her one hundred percent. She is driven to find the truth, and I know she has the capabilities to do it.” Virgil smiled at her.
Her heart warmed, again, knowing he believed in her. If only her father had half Virgil’s belief and her mother cared about her heritage. But they were both too caught up in the present and future to care about the past.
“I’m going to get to work. See you all in the morning.” Isabella stood. Everyone bid her good-night, including Tino. She stepped out of the tent and breathed in the cooler evening air. What she wouldn’t give for a long shower, but first, she wanted to compare her drawings from the stone in the settlement with the one in the artifact tent.
The half moon shone a muted light into the clearing. This larger area was easy to navigate, but the narrow paths between tents harbored dark shadows, booby trapped with crates and digging tools.
“Ouch!” She leaned down and rubbed the shin she cracked on a crate. Reaching into her vest, she extracted her survival tin and plucked the LED flashlight from the contents. The beam was small but enough to help her navigate the darkness and find the lantern inside the artifact tent. She lit the kerosene lamp and walked through the tables and shelves of artifacts in various conditions. One wall held the pieces with minimal damage while stone and pottery shards lie scattered across tables waiting to be pieced together.
The stone of interest to her leaned against the end of a table. It appeared that once Virgil had recognized its significance, he ordered the cleaning halted. Only the top line of characters had been brushed clean. And not completely.
Retracing her steps, she found a tool caddy and returned to the stone. Isabella knelt in front of the three-foot by two-foot, flat stone about eight inches thick. The top had a corner missing and jagged edges poked into the dirt. Excitement skittered up her back and tingled down her arms. This carved storyboard would help her claim the money she desperately needed.
She selected a soft bristled brush and finished exposing the top row of glyphs. Her fingers glided over the rough sandstone, dipping into the etchings, feeling the bumps, grooves, and indentions. She sat back and pulled out her journal. The carvings on the stone in the settlement were a close replica to those on this stone. She replaced the journal and stilled her shaking hands. This was a yet undiscovered Mayan ceremony. Her heart beat with anticipation of what it would reveal.
Isabella picked up a sturdy brush and carefully swept away the years of soil encrusted on the second row of glyphs. When images started to appear, she switched to a softer bristle brush and worked to expose the intricately carved glyphs. The second row of carvings stared back at her when cooler air stirred around her.
“I thought they exaggerated about you staying up for days when working on a project.”
Tino’s seductive whisper wrapped around her; arousing her body and dragging her mind away from the markings.
“My mind won’t rest when I’m onto something, so my body suffers.” She stretched her arms above her head and glanced over her shoulder. The shadow of whisker stubble no longer darkened his face. He’d shaved. She sniffed. And cleaned up. Her body itched from sweat and mosquito repellant. She had to give off a body odor as well. Her deodorant couldn’t have held out this long.
“You should take a break, refresh yourself with a shower, and then come for a walk. It will soon be time for the others to rise for the day.” He held out a hand.
She’d been working that long on this one row? Isabella glanced at the stone and then at his hand. He was right. A shower would do her some good. Her hand slipped into his comfortably. He drew her to her feet and caught the lantern with his other hand.
“Didn’t someone make a comment about your being in my tent?” She found his chivalry enchanting, though a bit old-fashioned.
“Everyone is asleep.” They crossed to the small tent with a barrel above it at the back of the compound. “Be sure to tuck the mosquito netting around the enclosure so you do not get any bites while showering.” He handed her the lantern and held the tent flap open.
She stopped and looked into his eyes. “You’ll be here when I get out?”
He nodded and his gaze traveled from her eyes to her mouth.
His heated perusal escalated her temperature and raced her heart. Why did he look at her like that? Did he expect her to swoon and dive into his arms? She wanted to, but the statistics for their relationship didn’t add up.
Isabella ducked into the tent. She found a hook by the shower curtain and hung the lantern. After acquainting herself with the layout, finding her backpack, and laying out her clothing and toiletries, she quickly stripped and ducked through the mosquito netting and shower curtain. The water was lukewarm, captured in a large barrel, and gravity fed through a hose to the nozzle above her head. She lathered up her hair, inhaling the spicy scent of her shampoo. She didn’t apply makeup or go to extremes to remove hair, but she did like wearing exotic scents.
Dried and clothed, she hurried out of the tent and bumped into Tino’s back. A laugh bubbled in her throat at the way he stood guard, arms crossed and feet braced shoulder width apart.
“We will drop your pack in your tent and take that walk.” His low voice rumbled near her ear as he took her by the arm.
“Why do we need to go for a walk when everyone is asleep?” she whispered back.
“Everyone may not be asleep. In the jungle, we will know if someone is getting close enough to hear.”
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 92