For more than two decades, this ritual had been crucial to his waking routine. His Morning World collection of photos had not only landed him a job as a freelance photographer with National Geographic, but they’d also won sufficient awards to have his collection displayed in several countries. That little bonus provided him with enough cash to keep traveling the world, doing what he loved.
He spied an elderly man walking up the street aided by a wooden cane. A plume of smoke tumbled from his mouth and vanished into obscurity around him. Carter adjusted the lens to take in every crease of the old man’s face. He clicked off a few shots, focusing on the wrinkles that deepened when the man drew in on a pipe that drooped from his lips to his chin.
Carter took a series of photos capturing the first rays of sun that speared over the jungle treetops and onto the old man. The light aged him further, adding years to his already ancient frame.
Thirty or so shots later, Carter put his camera aside, threw his towel over his shoulder, and left his room for the bathroom. The bathroom door was shut, and for some reason he hoped the person he heard showering in there was the woman from last night.
Covered in dirt and blood like she was, she’d seemed almost fragile, yet he’d seen fortitude simmering in her eyes as well. Although, one glance was enough to know she was cruising well outside her comfort zone. He hoped like hell she wasn’t planning on going to Agulinta, ’cause it’d be no picnic.
He propped one foot on the wall, leaned back, and waited for the door to open.
He didn’t have to wait long, and his first glance at her made him glad he’d waited. Dark, wet hair tumbled around her face, accentuating her stunning, dark-rimmed blue eyes. Her skin, perfectly toned in a mellow tan, was a striking contrast to the white towel wrapped around her body.
“Morning.” He couldn’t stop the smile curling on his lips.
“Hello.” She squeezed the towel around her breasts. “Excuse me.”
“What’s the magic word?”
She cocked her head, seemingly unamused. “Please.”
Grinning, he dropped his foot to the floor.
She scurried to her room, and glanced over her shoulder at him once before she disappeared from view.
Carter stepped into the bathroom and felt the ridiculous need to splash water on his face to cool down. He hadn’t felt even a hint of desire for a woman in years—hell, more like decades—but this woman had some kind of magic potion, stirring up his dormant libido.
The reaction was as unwanted as it was ridiculous.
After a quick shower, he returned to his room and packed his things into his rucksack. He usually preferred a little R & R between jobs, but Agulinta was an opportunity too good to miss. It was like he was destined to score this one. He was the closest National Geographic photographer within spitting distance of the temple, and he had the time and the money to do it. With a bit of luck, he’d beat every other bastard there and get to see it before the masses trampled it to death.
He checked his camera was on charge and headed downstairs for breakfast. Lily had beaten him there, and the sun streaming in from the open window cast her in a golden glow. His heart skipped a beat at her appearance. She oozed youthfulness, innocence, and a “leave me alone” attitude that had him dragging his eyes away. He sat at the only other table in the room.
Renata waltzed in moments later with a large coffeepot and a just-as-impressive smile.
“Hola, señor, coffee for you?”
“Absolutely.”
She filled his coffee mug just shy of the brim, and left the room.
Lily had a notepad open on her table, and she alternated her glances from out the window to her dancing pen. Carter couldn’t take his eyes off her. If he’d had his camera, he wouldn’t have been able to resist taking a couple of photos. Everything from the intense focus on her face to the dust particles drifting about in the morning sunshine made the scene perfect.
She spun to him. “You know that’s rude, don’t you?”
“What?” He frowned at her.
“Staring.” Her lips drew into a thin line.
“Oh, sorry. It’s just . . . sorry.”
Renata’s timely return saved him. She carried two plates of steaming food, and as if on cue, his stomach rumbled. Heuvos rancheros filled his plate. He’d have no hope of eating it all. Renata offered salt and pepper before striking up a catchy tune as she left Carter and Lily to their breakfast.
The two of them ate in silence, and he was halfway through the meal when he’d eaten too much and was tempted to undo the button on his shorts. Lily, however, was still going, delicately loading her fork and eating each mouthful like she was analyzing the flavors. He was mesmerized over how she kept at it until she’d consumed everything on her plate.
The second she finished she checked the clock on the wall, folded up her notebook, pushed back from the table, nodded in his direction, and left the room.
One glance at the clock was enough to know the day ahead wasn’t going to go quite as planned. For either of them.
Chapter 3
Lily stood at reception and adjusted her satchel strap while she waited for Renata. She was ten minutes ahead of schedule—exactly how she liked to be.
Several photos adorned the walls behind the counter. Each one was of a smiling Renata surrounded by an abundance of happy children. One portrait had Renata seated, holding a baby in her arms, a stately looking man at her side, and seven children positioned around them. Lily’s mother had a similar photo above their couch at home. All six of her brothers had been positioned behind her parents, and Lily was the baby in her mother’s arms.
She found herself staring at another photo; the familiarity of it rose the hairs on the back of her neck. The picture was of three people, a family it seemed, mother, father, and little girl. The similarities between it and a picture they’d found in her father’s suitcase were startling. She leaned over the counter, attempting to get closer. Even the dress the little girl wore was strikingly similar, right down to the little flowers decorating the bottom hem.
“Oh, sorry, Miss Lily. I didn’t know you were there.”
Lily jumped at Renata’s voice and turned to watch her waddle up the hallway, wiping her hands on an apron.
“It’s okay.” Lily cleared her throat and stepped back from the bench. “I was just admiring your photos.”
“Sí sí, my family.” Her broad grin emphasized how proud she was.
Lily pointed at the picture that’d caught her eye among the dozen or so others. “Who’s in that photo?”
Renata glanced at the picture and turned back to Lily. “That’s my madre, padre, and me, of course.” Her grin was photo worthy.
“Oh.” For a split second, Lily resonated disappointment. That quickly shifted to annoyance. She mentally slapped herself at the acknowledgment that her self-inflicted pressure to find answers was already clouding her judgment. Shoving the admission aside, she glided her room key over the counter. “Can I pay with American Express, please?”
“Sí. Sí.” Renata took Lily’s credit card and swiped it through a machine before handing it back.
Lily studied the photos again and, recalling the collection of toothbrushes in the bathroom, wondered if this hotel was actually Renata’s family home. Otomi’s comment yesterday about his extended family living here flashed into her mind, and she remembered she’d yet to pay him. “Oh, Renata, I haven’t paid Otomi for the taxi yesterday.”
“It okay; he be here soon.”
“Oh, good.”
Right on cue, a horn beeped outside.
Renata showed Lily where to sign the paperwork, and once the account was finalized, Lily adjusted her satchel on her shoulder and threw her pack onto her back. “Thank you, Renata. Have a great day.”
“Sí, gracias, you too.”
Lily stepped th
rough the front door into the humidity and blazing sunshine. Wishing she had her sunglasses on, she navigated the stairs and walked to Otomi’s waiting taxi.
He stepped out of the car, smiling. “Hola te pierdas, Lily.” He leaned back into his taxi, and seconds later, the trunk popped open.
“Hello, Otomi.” Lily dropped her pack and reached into her satchel for the money she’d discreetly hidden in an inner pocket. Otomi walked toward her, leaned down and picked up her backpack.
“Excuse me.” Lily lunged at her pack. “What’re you doing?”
“We go in my car. I’m your guide.”
“You are?” She released the strap and squinted against the blazing sunshine. “But the email said my guide’s name was Miguel.”
“Yes. It was. But he . . . had accident. I take you now.”
“Oh . . . so you know how to get to Agulinta Temple?”
“Of course. I go there three times now. I know good shortcut too.” His lopsided grin didn’t instill any confidence, but she was far too invested to cancel. Her mother depended on her.
No matter what happened, backing down was not an option.
Otomi opened the car door with a weird grin that wasn’t exactly welcoming. Lily climbed into the back seat and jumped. “Jesus, Carter! What’re you doing here?”
“This time it’s you following me.” He grinned.
“Pardon?” She plonked her satchel next to his pack on the seat between them.
“Otomi told me your guide was hurt last night. So he asked if you could come with us instead.”
Lily’s mind flashed to her attacker. Was he my intended guide? But he looked so young. In an attempt to calm her swirling thoughts, she opened the side zipper of her satchel and fished out her sunglasses.
“Or you can wait until your guide is available.” Carter’s Australian accent seemed stronger this morning.
“No . . . I, um, I can’t.” She sighed and put her glasses on. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Otomi opened the driver’s-side door and tossed a large chicken onto the front passenger seat. The bird shook its plump body, casting rust-colored feathers about the taxi.
“What the hell?” Lily scowled.
“Sorry.” Otomi’s grin said he wasn’t sorry at all. “My wife make me take Pompa. But don’t worry, he be good.”
Carter’s huge smile confirmed he was enjoying her reaction.
She swallowed back her objection and returned his smile. “Of course. Bring the chicken.”
Otomi jumped into the driver’s seat and shut his door. “Not chicken. Rooster.”
The car kicked into gear and they sped through town as if mobsters were behind them. At each building along the way, the pairs of elderly men sitting on the balconies followed the car’s progress.
Where the main street ended, the dense vegetation began. Dark shadows and earthy jungle scents enveloped the car, and a kaleidoscope of green hues ensued in every direction.
Sensing Carter’s eyes on her, she spun to him. If he was embarrassed to be caught staring at her, he didn’t show it. “I guess we’re going to be travel companions for a couple of days.” She couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
Carter picked at his fingernail. “Guess we are. Have you been to Agulinta yet?”
“No. First time. You?”
“First time too.” He huffed. “We’re both Agulinta virgins.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s one way to put it. Where’re you from?”
“Australia. Have you heard of Byron Bay?”
“No.” The car lurched over a bump and Lily slammed forward. She winced and edged her knees back from the rough vinyl of the driver’s seat. Cringing, she raised the cuff of her cargo pants. Fresh blood dribbled down her right leg. Earlier this morning, she’d debated over reapplying her bandages but had decided against it. It hadn’t taken long to regret that decision.
Carter groaned. “Oh shit, that looks bad.”
She plucked a packet of tissues from her satchel. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. I’ve got the perfect thing to stop the bleeding.”
“No. No. It’s okay, really.”
“If you don’t stop the bleeding, it’ll be covered in flies before you can blink an eye.”
“Oh.” A rotten visual had her rethinking. Her bandages were in her backpack in the trunk. “What do you have?”
“Plastic skin. Hurts like hell, but covers the wound, and it’ll stop the bleeding.”
He reached into his canvas rucksack, tugged out a blue lunchbox and lifted the lid. He removed a small spray can and shook it. “Okay, put your foot up here.” He tapped his thighs.
“I’m not putting my foot on your lap.”
“Do you have to argue about everything?”
“I don’t believe I’ve argued with you about anything.”
“That’s twice in two seconds.”
Her jaw dropped. “Is this the way it’s going to be for the whole trip?”
“Depends on you, honey.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her new boss called her honey, and despite her voicing her distaste over the term, he’d carried on using it.
“Look, do you want this or not?” Carter shook the can and viewed her with indifference.
Lily conceded she didn’t really have a choice. She brought her new hiking boot up onto the seat between them. Bending her knee was excruciating, but she had no intention of placing her foot onto a stranger’s thigh.
“It’ll hurt.”
She met his eyes. “Just do it.”
“Okay. One, two—” He blasted her knee and she gasped.
The torture was worse than the initial injury. She clenched her jaw, forcing back the scream in her throat. It wasn’t until she was breathing again that she lowered her foot back down.
“Show me your hands.” Carter reached out.
“They’re fine.”
He cocked his head. “Your hands. Now.”
Reluctantly, she held out her palms and without warning he sprayed them too.
Tears stung her eyes and as she tried to shake out the pain, the car bounced over a bump, launching Lily forward again. She squealed, the rooster crowed, and before she knew it, she was wedged between her seat and Otomi’s. Embarrassed beyond thinking, she sat there, staring at her wounded palms.
Carter burst out laughing, and she glared at him. “It’s not funny.”
“Come on . . . it’s funny. You’d laugh if it were me.”
His laughter was infectious and soon, despite herself, she was giggling too. She tried to haul herself out, but it was impossible. Accepting defeat, she sighed. “Can you help me, please?”
Carter leaned forward, wrapped his hands around her biceps, and lifted her onto the seat.
She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder with the back of her hand and adjusted her sunglasses. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She glanced at her wounds, impressed that the stinging in both her knee and palms had stopped.
“Better?” He nodded at her hands.
“Nearly.” She turned to her travel companion, taking in his scruffy hair and equally unkempt beard. “So what brings you to Agulinta?”
“I’m a photographer.” He shrugged. “Looking for my next big National Geographic prize winner. How about you?”
Since she’d taken up her career, every man she’d met felt compelled to boast about himself. It seemed Carter was no different. “I’m a journalist . . . looking for my next Pulitzer Prize.” She ensured there was sufficient sarcasm in her voice. She’d always known her chosen profession would be cutthroat, but that hit a whole new level when she’d started her new job at the male-dominated magazine. It was just another reason why she was determined to m
ake this trek a success.
Carter huffed and turned his attention out the window.
She did too, just in time to see a monkey swinging through the trees. It wasn’t the first time she’d wished she was good at photography.
The car bumped and jerked along the track for hours, yet the scenery from the window didn’t change. Trees, trees, and more trees. It really was a jungle out there.
Otomi whistled along to the crackling radio. The rooster alternated from standing and pooping on the passenger seat to roosting on the floor. And Carter continued to silently brood and stare out the window.
Lily concentrated on the scenery around her, taking it all in, ready for the article she hoped her boss would approve when she returned home. She removed her notebook from her satchel and jotted random notes about their journey. The visuals. The smells. The sounds. She’d learned a long time ago that little details were what gave life to a story.
The road changed from shabby bitumen to a dirt track riddled with even more potholes that had her already full bladder close to bursting. If they didn’t stop soon she’d have another embarrassing moment on her hands. She didn’t want to ask Otomi to pull over though; the last thing she wanted was to look weak.
“We stop soon.” Otomi eyeballed her in the mirror. Maybe he’d seen a pained grimace on her face.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Thank God.” Carter huffed. “I’m busting.” They were the first words he’d said in hours, and Lily felt compelled to answer.
“I thought we’d never stop.” She smiled and he smiled back.
Otomi slowed down and turned onto yet another dirt track. There was nothing to indicate the road was even there, and it was a miracle they hadn’t whizzed right past.
The winding path wove around enormous trees, and several minutes later opened up to a clearing. Beyond that was a large building with a substantial veranda that appeared to wrap right around it. If it wasn’t for the six groups of tables and chairs set up on the side veranda, she’d assume this was somebody’s home. Behind the building was a vast river that had to be at least a hundred and fifty feet wide.
She realized this was the Usumacinta River that divided Mexico from Guatemala. The brown expanse of water looked to be flowing slowly. Lily’s research told her that this river was the reason the Mayans had built their temples in this area. Now, though, the river was the lifeblood for locals, businesses . . . and ruthless pirates.
Out of Reach Page 3