“¡Hijo jesu! There are three other women here I could seduce if all I wanted was a quick roll.”
Her stomach growled loudly.
“Are you heading to the mess tent?” He changed the subject, taking her by the elbow and escorting her to the tent.
Her skin trembled at his touch. How did she pretend nonchalance when she wanted to believe his words and revel in the power his interest gave her?
He leaned close and whispered, “Your beauty, vitality, and intelligence astound me. You are the only woman I want.”
Air stuck in her throat. His actions and sincerity were battering away at her resistance.
Professor Walsh emerged from his tent. His gaze landed on them. Venom oozed from his small, narrow-set eyes. They’d made an enemy of the man last night. Why he’d snuck up on her and then groped her was a mystery. The encounter was his doing, and if he didn’t like the outcome—he walked tenderly this morning—it was his own fault for accosting her.
Tino took a step toward the man, but she put a hand on his arm.
“He owes you an apology.” Tino’s hard stare didn’t waver from the man walking away.
“You and I both know he would never apologize, and he’ll never tell us what he was doing. I’ve yet to hear him give anyone a straight answer about anything.” Isabella gripped Tino’s arm harder, dragging his glare from the professor. “Forget it. If you try to pound out an answer you’ll only get thrown out of the compound.” Walsh disappeared into the mess tent.
“What were you and the professor talking about last night before I arrived?” Tino’s business tone drew her attention.
“He snuck up on me as I worked on the stone. He offered to help me decipher the glyphs. I told him I was doing fine, then you arrived and he—I still don’t understand why he kicked over the lantern and then groped me.” She stopped and stared into Tino’s eyes. The blue irises darkened with anger. “And with you right there. It was so… bizarre.”
“I agree. The desperation in his attempt was out of character for him.” Tino placed his hands on her shoulders. “Do not go anywhere outside this compound alone.”
She started to protest, but the determination in his eyes and the slight shake of his head stopped her.
“Someone watches the compound from the jungle. I found their hiding spot. Until I catch them, you must remain in the camp.”
“Why is someone watching the compound?” She didn’t like the idea, but she wasn’t about to change her routine. Her faith in Tino catching the person overrode any fear.
“I think it may be your thief. He would have seen us leave the artifact tent last night and known how long we were away the night before.” Tino started walking toward the mess tent. “Is the urn the first thing you’ve noticed missing?”
“Yes.” She stopped. “But we’ve only been here a few days. Could they have been stealing things all along?”
“If so, your working at night is putting a cramp in their stealing. You need to take extra precautions if you continue to work after everyone else is asleep. They may get tired of waiting for you to leave.” He gave a tug on her braid. “I would hate to see something happen to you.”
At his soft declaration she wanted to melt into his arms. His genuine concern softened the wall she’d erected to keep him from hurting her. The more she was around him; she was beginning to believe he really cared for her.
“You two are up early.” The accusation and insinuation in Virgil’s voice didn’t even needle.
“Did you bring your usual trunk of research books with you?” She’d change the subject and get her day mapped out.
Virgil yanked his glare from Tino and focused on her. “Yes. Do you need to use them?”
“Yes. After I eat. Did you bring any books with the Mayan code? There are some glyphs I can’t decipher.”
“I have two Mayan dictionaries and notes from a class I took in college.” Virgil slid an arm through hers and escorted her through the mess tent flap.
Isabella glanced over her shoulder at Tino and wiggled her free hand toward him. She didn’t want him to think she’d forgotten him. He waved for her to go on and didn’t enter the tent. How would he spend his day?
“What has you stumped enough you have to look through my books?” Virgil released her arm and picked up two cups of coffee Pedro placed on the table they stood beside.
“Food ready in five minutes,” Pedro said, smiling at her and rushing back to his sizzling pans on the over-sized camp stove.
“The Mayans believed a moon treasure was hidden here. Others from far away came to help seek the treasure. There is mention of a ceremony for the moon god.” She sipped her coffee. The fresh coffee beans not only smelled heavenly, they made the best tasting coffee she’d ever had. Who would believe she found exquisite coffee in the jungle of Guatemala?
Glancing at Virgil, her contemplative thoughts dropped away.
Virgil’s eyes glowed with an uncharacteristic avarice. “You’ve found the ceremony tablet. After you check my books, I’d like you to come down into the excavation site. There are some markings on the walls that should tie in to the tablet and help with the decoding.”
“Walls? Does this mean you found a structure?” Excitement and anticipation bounced around inside her, making it hard for her to sit when Virgil pulled out a chair for her. She wanted to run to the site and forget about the books for the time being. She loved being ensconced in the areas where the ancients lived and worshiped. Their essence poured into her like water to a dry flower, filling and nourishing her. She’d tried to tell this to Virgil once; he’d merely looked at her like she’d gone crazy. Since then she’d kept the experiences to herself.
“Yes, we’ve opened up what looks like a worship area. It’s small by comparison to other sites but is completely undisturbed due to its obscurity.”
Pedro placed food in front of them, and she forgot about anything other than appeasing her hungry stomach. After two helpings, Isabella leaned back in her chair. More of the workers had straggled in while she and Virgil ate. Jaycee sat at a table where she could watch them. She really needed to set this woman straight about her and Virgil. Receiving the evil eye all the time was annoying.
Eunice entered the tent. The sight of the woman jogged Isabella’s memory. Should she tell Virgil about the missing urn or wait until Tino caught the person tonight? If Eunice followed the schedule she had shared with Isabella yesterday, she’d discover the missing piece when she went to the artifact tent. Rather than throw suspicion on Tino, who she was pretty sure didn’t steal the artifact and instead worked toward solving the theft, she’d let Eunice report it.
“Is your trunk of research books easy to get to?” She’d do the research and hurry to the site.
“It’s alongside my bed. You can’t miss it. I believe the books you want are on the right side.”
Isabella stood and Pedro arrived to clear her plate and utensils. “Excellent food, Pedro. If anyone can put some meat on these bones, it just might be you.”
“Gracias, seño. I will do my best, no?”
Virgil laughed. “If you can get her to fill out, it will indeed be a miracle, Pedro. She’s been nothing but skin and bones since the day she arrived in this world.”
If he had said this before Tino proved her body was worthy of a male’s attention, Isabella would have been crushed. But now, she didn’t care if people disapproved of her frame. She’d tried for years to change and nothing worked.
“I’ll come over to the site as soon as I find what I’m looking for.” Isabella left the murmuring voices and aroma of coffee and bacon. She crossed the compound in long strides and stopped outside Virgil’s tent. Did the person watching them at night also watch during the day? She shivered. Was Tino keeping an eye on the spot? He disappeared a lot. From the things he’d told her, his two personas and the control he showed last night, she had a suspicion he wasn’t a guide. Too many things added up to something else.
A quick scan of the
compound revealed nothing out of the ordinary. She stepped into Virgil’s tent. The immediate smell of his sharp aftershave, his orderly housekeeping, and the familiar trunk by his cot brought back fond memories. As a child, she’d spent hours reading books from this chest when her father visited Virgil at dig sites.
The thought of her father as always dulled her happiness. If only he had given her more than food, clothes, and money. Just a small part of him was all she asked.
She shook off the sad memories and knelt in front of the trunk, lifting the lid. Research books placed side-by-side with their bindings up lined the trunk. Isabella scanned the titles until she found the two books she wanted. Legs crossed, she sat in front of the trunk with the books on her lap and pulled out her journal and notes. The sun beating down on the tent escalated the temperature inside, causing her glasses to slide down her nose. Some day she’d have to see about contacts or laser surgery—if she planned more excursions into the jungle. Pushing her glasses up on her nose all the time was distracting and annoying.
There. She stabbed a finger at drawings like the ones on the stone. Meticulously, she read each image and compared it to the ones in her journal. Her shoulders and back ached and her head buzzed by the time she’d made sense of the glyph markings. She stuffed her journal and findings in her vest and replaced the books. Stretching out on the floor, she closed her eyes, extended her arms above her head, and breathed in a controlled relaxing rhythm to relieve her back.
She opened her eyes and rotated her head from side to side, easing the muscles in her neck. Her gaze landed on the corner of a paper sticking out from under the cot mattress. Isabella tugged on the paper. A notepad slipped out. She read the scribbles and sat up, staring at a paper on Mayan sacrifice. Virgil thought this site was one of the most sacred sites used for human sacrifice. But Mayans rarely used sacrifice in their ceremonies.
He hadn’t said a word to her about sacrifice. Her mind spun images. The glyphs she couldn’t decipher could speak of sacrifice. She read the paper once more, thoroughly, and replaced it under the mattress. Curiosity to see the worship hall hurried her out of Virgil’s tent and over to the activity of the dig.
Isabella stopped at the threshold of the tell. She’d studied the maps and charts in the artifact tent, but nothing had prepared her for the emotions swirling in her as she descended the stone steps into the structure constructed by hands thousands of years ago. Darkness met her at the bottom of the stairs once the sunlight no longer filtered through the entry. She followed the beckoning white glow of the lanterns used by the workers.
String stretched in a grid pattern on one side of the chamber floor. Each of the British interns worked in a quadrant with a whisk broom, small trowel, and a field book held open with a pencil beside them. The local workers were clearing what looked like a passageway. She found Virgil writing in a log book as Jaycee placed fragments in a bucket to transport to the other women who cleaned and categorized.
Virgil glanced up as she approached. “There you are.” He tucked the journal in his pocket and held out a hand. “I think you’re going to find our discovery fascinating.”
She ignored Jaycee’s glare and placed her hand in Virgil’s. A cold chill slid up her arm. An aftershock from the other woman’s hostility. Virgil led her through an opened passage and into a near pristine altar room.
Her heart slid into her throat and beat wildly. “Virgil, it looks as if they just walked away. How did it remain so untouched by nature?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t a clue, but there are glyphs on the walls. Stay as long as you like but don’t forget to come out for fresh air and food.” He laughed and squeezed her hand before releasing his hold.
Isabella spun slowly, taking in the structure, the carvings, and even the pottery still perched on ledges on the walls. How had this remained intact? Taking it all in, she approached the wall to the right of the door and studied the carvings and glyphs. They told the story of the king Chächäc Ch’ujuña—Red Moon and his family. She noted the marriages, births, and battles with other dynasties. Her heart raced reading glyphs that mentioned a visit from far away people.
She pulled out her journal and drew the glyphs, deciphering as she noted each one in her book. The lantern light wiggled and sputtered. How long had she been in here? Her fingers cramped and her eyes blurred. Reluctantly, she noted where she’d stopped and faced the altar.
The low glow of the lantern lit a portion of the wall she’d missed before. Her eyes widened at the fine detail of a carving revealing a human sacrifice. The girl’s long hair hung over the altar, her face serene. A dagger protruded from her chest and blood dripped down her side. An owl sat atop the dagger handle, a smug look on its face. The king stood behind the altar, his hands raised over his head holding a bowl.
A chill chased up Isabella’s back and spread from shoulder to shoulder. Fear poked holes in her curiosity.
She spun and smacked into a body. Raising her chin, she peered into Virgil’s concentrated gaze. She pushed out of his arms and took a step back.
“W-what are you doing?” Her question sounded childish and scared. Vulnerability wasn’t something she showed often. Not if she could help it.
“You’ve been in here for hours, missed lunch. This is why you stay skinny, missing meals.” Virgil reached out to her, but she couldn’t bring her hand to raise and fit in his.
“I was just getting ready to take a break.” She walked past him, down the short corridor, and into the chamber where the workers hovered. Each one worked in the same section she’d witnessed them in when she’d arrived. Though she had patience for chasing down details in books and archives, she’d never make an archeologist. She didn’t have the patience to use a toothbrush to unearth one small, possibly broken, piece of an artifact.
Isabella stepped out of the structure and rain pelted her. The deluge and large puddles on the ground proved this was more than an afternoon shower. A brief glance at her watch made her stomach rumble. She’d not only missed lunch but just about missed dinner, too.
She sprinted to the mess tent and caught a glimpse of Tino exiting the artifact tent. In her absorption of the dig glyphs she forgot about the missing urn. Had Eunice reported it missing? Virgil hadn’t mentioned the urn. She stopped, her hand clutching the tent flap, and stared at Tino. Rain splatted on her head and ran down her body soaking through her vest and shirt.
Tino glanced in her direction and their gazes met. Isabella gave a tip of her head toward the mess tent and entered.
“Seño, you are soaked, no?” Pedro hurried forward. An inviting spicy aroma filled the humid interior.
Her stomach rumbled and the chef smiled.
“I did not see you at lunch and now it is an hour after dinner was served. How can I make you a robust woman if you miss meals?”
“She is perfect the way she is.”
Tino’s low sultry voice heated her skin so much she wondered steam didn’t rise from her wet clothing.
“Sí.” Pedro hurried to the table behind the cookstove.
“Where have you been hiding all day?” Tino asked, settling Isabella on a bench and taking a spot next to her. He’d made several visits to the artifact tent during the day and found the space in front of the stone empty. He didn’t want to draw attention to his interest by asking someone where she worked.
“I went through some of Virgil’s reference books in his tent then spent the remainder of the day down in the dig.” Her eyes grew large and her face glowed. “There’s a remarkably well preserved worship hall and altar in the structure. And glyphs…the whole life span of Red Moon, a Mayan king, is written on the walls. It’s fascinating.”
Pedro placed heaping plates in front of both of them. The chef must have noticed their absence during mealtimes today.
“Gracias, Pedro.” Tino liked the man and had hopes of getting him to help keep an eye on Isabella.
“I am paid to keep the people of this compound fed.” Pedro winked at Isabel
la. “But for some I would do it even if I were not paid.”
“Gracias, Pedro. I’m honored. Your food is delicious, even reheated.” Isabella forked a mouthful between her lips.
Tino forced his body to stay relaxed, watching the rapt expression on Pedro’s face. “Do you have anything to drink?” he asked, hoping to move the chef along.
“¡Sí!” Pedro scurried to the back of the tent.
Isabella moaned, capturing his attention. Her closed eyes and slow chewing proved her point about the food. “This is delicious. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until Virgil mentioned I’d missed lunch.”
His body hummed with need watching her enjoy the food. She radiated passion like other women exuded charm or sophistication. Restraint proved useless when it came to Isabella. He captured her chin in his hand and traced his thumb back and forth across her full bottom lip. His arousal grew as her eyes slowly opened. The heat in their depths gripped him as firmly as a gaff in a fish.
“Mi pichón, you ignite urges in me, like no one before.” He leaned into her and kissed her tantalizing lips, soft and brief. Her words about being seen cavorting with him rang in his head. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her career.
She placed her forehead against his. “You are slowly winning me over.” Her whisper, for his ears only, jolted his system with the same impact as her sincere stare.
“I am glad. Eat.” He released her chin and turned his attention to his meal. He’d known all day that if he came within arm’s reach of her he would react just as he had. His plan to keep his distance after she tossed him out last night faded quickly as throughout the day his feet continually drew him to the artifact tent.
“Did Virgil say anything about the missing urn?” In all his wanderings today no one said anything about the missing urn.
“No. Did Eunice notice it was missing?” Isabella stopped with a forkful halfway to her irresistible lips.
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