He laid a finger over her mouth. "Shh. You talk too much." Then his head began to lower again, his lips coming closer. She knew that she should stop him, but instead her lips, still tingling with the pleasure of his earlier kiss, reached up to meet his eagerly. Her mouth opened under the pressure of his, yielding, molding itself to the shape of his. A surge of wanton pleasure rushed through her as his tongue explored the sweetness of her mouth, drawing a soft moan from a deep-down passion that she had not even known she possessed. Never had she felt like this. Never had she known this boneless, letting-go sensation that had invaded her innermost being.
Her eyelids fluttered open as she realized that he was moving away from her, and an involuntary sound of protest escaped her.
Derek laughed softly, huskily, as he scooped her up into his arms. "Don't worry, my pretty, I'm not going anywhere without you."
Dazedly, she felt herself being lifted and carried, and she snuggled her face into the warmth of his neck, wishing that she could stay there always in that lovely, secure place.
He was lowering her again and she opened her eyes to look around. This was her bedroom, and Derek was laying her on her bed—and was lying down beside her. This was what all the caresses and the kisses had been leading up to. All of her senses were fully awake now, and as Derek reached out to pull her against him, her guard came up—belatedly, but there at last.
His hands were beneath her tank top now, warm and enticing, and he whispered her name caressingly as he began to kiss her neck and the soft curve of her breast that was exposed by the low-necked top.
Terri closed her eyes, trying to hold herself rigid, frantically grasping for the strength to stop the bittersweet plunder of this man.
"Terri… sweet, beautiful, Terri…"
She turned her head from side to side slowly, denying her own clamoring senses. He had been gone for hours, had returned to find her sleeping and without defense, and he had taken full advantage of the situation. Under all that talk about understanding the Mayas, was this the real reason why he had brought her here?
Her memory tortured her by providing a vivid image of the Mexican actress being caught up in Derek's arms. Terri would never forget that moment when she had seen the two of them together like that. And it was that memory that gave her the strength, at last, to pull away from him.
"No—Derek, you can't—no!"
He looked down at her, the dark passion-filled eyes clouding, hardening, piercing her heart. "My God, Terri, what are you made of? How can you lead me on like that—and then say no?"
She pulled her legs up, hugging herself against the ice in his eyes. "No, that's not fair, Derek. I—I didn't lead you on."
He sat up abruptly, his muscles tensing. "What do you call it, then! What were you doing in there on the couch? Was that all an act?"
"No—" Her voice was only a whisper. "I was asleep. You took me by surprise. Before I fell asleep I heard noises. I was frightened. Oh, I wanted you to kiss me, I won't deny it—"
"You can't deny it!" He ran shaking hands through his thick hair. "You used every trick in the book. You flaunted yourself! And right now… What are you trying to prove, Terri?"
Finally, she gathered enough courage to meet his searching look and was sorry that she had, for this was a Derek she hardly recognized.
"I—I'll not be used, Derek! You think you can make love to a woman and then throw her away when you tire of her." Her eyes were suddenly misty with tears, and the aching in her throat was so painful that she almost cried out. "Well, not me!"
He got to his feet slowly and, after one cold glance at her, strode across the room. At the door he turned. "I'm sick of your games, Terri. I'm not interested in a vacillating virgin who doesn't know her own mind. I won't touch you again—not until you beg me to make love to you. When you do that, Terri, if I'm so inclined at the moment, I might accommodate you. But don't count on it!" He paused, then went on vehemently, "We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You'd better get some rest. You'll need it!"
He slammed the door shut behind him, and Terri lay huddled on her bed for a long time before she found the strength to get into her nightgown and under the sheet.
After a while, she heard the sound of Derek's portable typewriter. The staccato rhythm of the typewriter keys continued even after she'd fallen asleep.
Chapter Seven
Derek was cool and businesslike all morning. And, as he drove them to the archaeological zone at Chichén Itzá, he was treating her as he might have treated one of his students in his teaching days. She knew that this was a preview of what she could expect for the rest of the day. She would not have been very surprised if Derek had reverted to calling her Miss Thompson! Evidently he had decided not to go that far. But, if that was the way he wanted to act, so be it. She could be as businesslike as he!
They were entering the archaeological zone now, and Terri was awed by the number and variety of excavated structures on all sides. They parked the car and walked toward the largest, most imposing structure in sight. Terri was glad that she had decided to wear shorts and halter. Glancing about, she realized that it would probably take all day to get the photographs Derek wanted, and already the day was stifling.
The structure they were approaching was a four-sided pyramid, topped by a platform that supported a small square building. They stopped some distance away so that Terri could take pictures.
"This is called The Castle," Derek told her as she made certain her camera was on the correct settings. "Of course, no one knows what the original purposes of these buildings were. The names were given to them by the Spaniards or the archaeologists who unearthed them."
"What's that on top?" Terri asked as she looked into the viewfinder.
"A Mayan vaulted temple dedicated to the worship of Kukulcán, the Plumed Serpent. There are two Toltec serpent pillars inside it."
She made a face. "Which you'll want pictures of, no doubt. So we're going all the way to the top."
"Naturally," Derek retorted, ignoring her grimace.
She backed away and took another shot, then said doubtfully, "Those stairs look awfully steep. I wonder how many there are."
"Ninety-one steps on each of the four sides," said Derek matter-of-factly. "That's three hundred sixty-four in all, which, added to the upper platform, makes the three hundred sixty-five days of the year."
"Very interesting," Terri said dispiritedly as they started climbing.
At the top Terri got several shots of the serpent pillars, then sat down in a corner of the small square temple to rest. She refused to go another step until she'd cooled off! She felt as if her face was on fire. It was maddening that Derek was breathing only slightly harder than normally. Honestly, was he human or some cleverly devised machine?
She rested her head against the stone wall behind her, closing her eyes, and heard Derek sitting down beside her. She opened her eyes, after a moment, and stole a look at him. He was gazing out through the temple doorway, seemingly lost in thought. Terri's glance slid over his finely chiseled profile, across his broad shoulders in the thin cotton shirt, and along one muscular arm. She stared at the brown skin until her mind transported her back to the guest house, back to last night—to Derek bending over the couch where she lay sleeping, waking her up so delightfully, kissing her until every nerve in her body quivered in response, picking her up in his strong arms—this arm that was so close that it almost touched her body—carrying her into the bedroom, murmuring her name in such desire-laden syllables, that the memory of it could still set her blood singing. Had this cool, aloof man beside her really done all those things? Had she actually responded with the abandon that she remembered?
What if she hadn't stopped him when she did? Would he be treating her with such casual disdain this morning? Or would he be touching her, smiling in that heart-melting way he had, making outrageously suggestive remarks?
She settled more comfortably against the stone wall. She could almost wish that she hadn't stoppe
d Derek last night. Almost. Just for a moment she let her imagination toy with the idea of "playing house" with Derek in the way that he'd been hinting at. There was no denying that these few days could be delightful, wonderful—something to remember always. But so short—so fleeting. It would be much worse to know him like that and then lose him to Margarite Lopez. Derek Storm would not be an easy man to forget.
She told herself that she had done the right thing in pulling away last night. Even if Derek had accused her of leading him on. Terri's smile deepened slightly. Imagine Terri Thompson, a naive, inexperienced twenty-one-year-old woman, being capable of "leading on" a man of the world like Derek Storm. It was quite ludicrous, when you thought about it.
Unless it had been an unconscious act on her part. Her smile disappeared. That was possible—just barely possible. Hadn't she been made aware more than ever last night of a deeply buried passion in herself? Perhaps that is what Derek had seen in her; it might explain his repeated efforts to take her to bed.
It was really quite flattering, if she cared to look at it that way, to realize that Derek Storm, a connoisseur of beautiful women, desired her. She had certainly never stirred any other man to quite such ardency before. Unless you counted Jack Ledbetter, but he had been slightly drunk at the time. So maybe Derek did see something in her that other men had missed.
He certainly had managed to plumb the depths of her own emotions a few times as no other man had ever done. But it was all a well-practiced art with him. Because she said no to him, she represented a challenge to his inflated masculine ego. If she ever let him know how close she had been to giving in last night, she would be lost. But now that she knew the effect he could have on her, maybe she could protect herself better in the future. She remembered how angry he had been when he left her last night. He would not touch her until she begged him, he had said. Oh, would he not? Well, fine! Great! That's exactly how she wanted it.
Beside her, Derek stirred and stood. "Time to go."
Terri opened her eyes and peered up at him, bridling at his commanding tone.
"Come on—up!" He gestured impatiently for her to get to her feet. "I told you we had a full day of work ahead of us."
Terri stood, thinking how hateful this man could be. Had she actually welcomed his advances last night? She must have been too muddled by sleep to be in her right mind!
"I'm ready." Terri forced a smile. "I didn't want to push you too hard."
Derek's lips twisted sardonically. "That is a distinct possibility, Terri—but not in climbing pyramids. It's your tongue that will get you into trouble, if you don't take care. If you want to exchange insults, I will oblige you. But don't run for cover when the going gets rough. You have a tendency to do that, you know."
For a second she stared up at him, trying to control her sharp intake of breath as she realized he was trying to be cruel, to hurt her. Anger welled in her and became stronger as she saw the cold look in his eyes.
"Damn you, Derek!" She whirled and ran from the temple, descending the steep steps as fast as she dared. Behind her, she heard Derek's harsh laugh and, grabbing her camera to keep it from bouncing about on its strap, she hurried her descent.
For the rest of the morning Terri followed Derek from structure to structure, taking rolls of pictures and listening to his succinct explanations that, she had to admit, were much better than those in any of the books she had read. The Mayans, she learned, while they had a highly developed knowledge of architectural principles, were limited because they never discovered how to make the arch, so their rooms were always long and narrow and dark. Yet they decorated the facades of their structures with beautifully intricate carvings, and the rain god with his projecting curling nose decorated many building corners. Also, as Derek pointed out, all of their buildings were oriented by astral observations.
To Terri the most fascinating structure of all was the observatory, a high circular tower sitting atop a tier of platforms. Inside, Derek showed her how the slits and holes in the observatory wall were used to align the celestial bodies for purposes of computation.
"No one in the world," Derek told her, "has ever calculated the rotational motions of the earth with such exactness as the Mayas. The Toltecs, Aztecs, and other Indian races adapted the Mayan calendar in one form or another."
After leaving the observatory, they took a break for lunch, which consisted of sandwiches and soft drinks purchased at a stand on the grounds. The afternoon passed quickly, ending with a visit to the sacred cenote, one of two wells at Chichén Itzá. To reach the spot they followed a long causeway north from the northernmost buildings. Standing on the rocky ledge overlooking the well, the sun beating down on them, Terri tried to imagine what it must have been like for the Mayas who were brought there to be sacrificed to the rain god. It was probably sixty feet straight down the rounded walls of the cenote to the surface of the water, which Derek said was forty feet deep.
Diving expeditions had brought up hundreds of artifacts from the cenote as well as numerous human skeletons. As her eyes followed the high wall of the well all the way around, Terri saw that there was literally no way out—nothing to cling to or use in climbing.
Suddenly the dreadful knowledge of what had happened there made her turn away. "I've seen enough. I want to go back now."
Derek eyed her intently and said in a voice that might have held a trace of sympathy. "So do I. We'll call it quits for today. It'll be dark soon anyway. I know of an old hacienda near here that has been turned into a restaurant. We'll have dinner."
They followed the causeway back toward the car. Looking down at her rumpled shorts and halter, Terri said tiredly, "I hope this restaurant isn't too elegant. I'm not exactly dressed for it."
Derek shrugged. "They're used to tourists who wear outlandish garbs."
Terri glanced up at him quickly. Was he insinuating that her attire was outlandish? He was looking straight ahead, and she could not tell if he had meant to insult her or had only been speaking generally. And she was too tired at the moment to pursue the matter.
The restaurant, converted from an ancient overgrown hacienda, was lovely in the falling dusk— surrounded by gardens, the dining room softly lighted. Such a romantic setting, Terri thought sadly, to be wasted on her and Derek. As they were waiting to be seated, a tall, graceful figure of a man approached, the slim, tanned body snugly encased in leg-hugging white duck trousers and a ribbed yellow shirt. With a practiced toss of his head he threw back thick black hair attractively streaked with silver and sauntered up to them.
"Derek! It's a pleasure to see you again so soon." His voice was deep and the glance he slid over Terri was at first bored, then a new gleam came into the dark eyes as he gave her a lazy smile before his look returned to Derek.
Derek pumped the brown hand enthusiastically. "David! This is a surprise." Glancing at Terri, he added, "I'd like you to meet Terri Thompson. She's doing the photographic work on my Mexican books. Terri, this is Dr. David Almedo, the archaeologist I went to see yesterday."
Terri extended her hand. "Hello, Dr. Almedo."
The fine-boned, attractive face reflected amused interest. "David, please. So you are Derek's photographer? He told me yesterday that you were with him, but he neglected to tell me that you are also young and pretty." He had a faint Mexican accent overlaid by what must have been years of working and studying in other countries. Although he appeared to be in his early forties, his eyes held the intense curiosity of a much younger man, as if he still found life new and exciting and wanted to experience it to the fullest.
Flushing slightly, Terri said, "I'm afraid I'm not dressed for such a grand establishment."
"Nonsense, seňorita!" He looked down at her body. "You should always dress like that. It would be a shame to put too much on such a body."
She felt added heat underneath the sunburn on her face. "Thank you," she said, trying to behave as if she heard such extravagant compliments every day. "We've spent the day at Chichén Itzá and I
tried to dress for your climate. It's even hotter here than in Mexico City."
David brushed this aside with a Gallic shrug. "It's the humidity." He smiled disarmingly and cocked his head at Derek. "No wonder you wanted to keep her tucked away." Looking back at Terri, he continued, "Derek has quite a reputation for discovering beautiful women. I approve of his taste."
Although he was bold and self-assured, his brazen swagger made him somehow less alarming than Derek and, because Derek had made her feel so unattractive and insignificant all day, she was touched by David's brash flattery. He was obviously vain and a lady-killer, but charming nevertheless.
"I have a table in a private alcove," he said, "and I would be honored if you would share it."
Derek, who had been holding himself rather stiffly during the exchange between Terri and David Almedo, began to shake his head. "We couldn't intrude on your party…"
"I'm alone," David cut in. "I'm just returning from Chichén myself. A couple of my students are working on a dig in the unexcavated section, and I go out to check on them once or twice a week." He turned to Terri. "I insist that you join me. I want to get to know your photographer better, Derek."
Terri chanced a quick look at Derek. His expression was impossible to read. Coolly, he said, "Lead on, then, David."
They were soon seated at a table in a small alcove marked off from the main dining room by a Moorish arch and screened by a large pot of lush greenery. David had been prompt to hold Terri's chair for her, and his hand had brushed her shoulder as he moved to take his own seat. She had flickered a glance at Derek in time to catch a polite movement on his hard mouth—the pretense of a smile—but his brown eyes were cold.
"Have you ordered yet?" Derek asked.
David shook his head. "I arrived only seconds before you."
"What a lovely little hideaway," Terri said, admiring a brightly colored Mexican serape displayed on a roughly textured wall.
Mexican Nights Page 10