“My job is to figure out what all the artifacts mean in terms of how that particular civilization worked. Both the layout of the ruins themselves, as well as whatever remains we find, and where we find them, can tell us a lot about how that particular segment of society lived. And died.” He smiled. “You really don’t want to get me started, trust me. I could bore you to tears for hours on end with Mayan history alone.”
She smiled in return. She liked his easy confidence, the warmth of his voice, the ease that seemed to settle between them so naturally. He was pretty sexy. For a geeky sort. “It’s not like we have anything else to do for the next eight to ten hours.”
“Oh, we could probably think of something more entertaining.”
He’d said it more casually than suggestively. Not that it mattered. Funny how quickly a spike of sexual tension could reinsert itself into their easy camaraderie. She found herself thinking about that backseat idea all over again. How easy would it be to push things back in the direction they’d been heading outside? She got the feeling he wouldn’t need much encouragement. At the same time, she didn’t sense any overt sort of threat from him either. Despite the tribal teeth circling his neck. Or maybe because of them. What with him worrying about spirits protecting his mortal soul and all.
“You’re rather far afield then, aren’t you?” she asked him, stalling. A little. It wasn’t like her to be indecisive. But then, it wasn’t exactly like her to plot a one-night stand with a tourist, either. “Or did the Mayans make a trip to the auld sod that I’m unaware of?”
“Actually, you might be surprised how far reaching their influence was. But no, I’m here on an unrelated matter.”
He didn’t elaborate, so she didn’t pry. Not directly anyway. But she wanted to. She tucked her legs closer and propped her chin on her knees. “Your first time to Scotland, then?” she asked instead.
“I was on a dig in Wales while I was still in college. But that’s the closest I’ve come.” He shifted a little, then noticing her watching him, said, “The sweater is a bit itchy without the undershirt.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest he could take care of that little problem pretty easily. Somehow she managed to resist. Barely. She tried not to openly admire the play of muscles beneath the dark knit. But it was tough. “A shame you can’t get another shirt,” she said, which was a bald-faced lie. She wanted him in no shirt, not more clothes. “I guess your luggage is in the boot?”
He nodded. “I’ll be all right. I’m just not used to wearing so many layers.”
Maura had to all but bite off her tongue. Why, she wasn’t sure. She wanted him. She was reasonably sure, given he hadn’t exactly fended off her earlier advances, that he was like-minded. They were both adults. And heaven knew they weren’t going anywhere. “A fair-weather sort, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say there’s anything fair about the weather in Chacchoben.” He shrugged. “Still, I guess I prefer swatting mosquitoes to risking frostbite.”
“Understandable, I suppose.”
He cocked his head. “You don’t look too convinced.”
“Let’s just say I don’t mind working up a good sweat, but I’d rather there not be insects involved in the endeavor. Most especially the sort that like to take a piece of you home with them.”
He grinned. “Understandable, I suppose.”
They were both smiling, all convivial and the like, and then the moment shifted, the silence dragged on a wee bit too long. And that finely tuned sexual tension that so effortlessly arced between them, spiked up again.
“I should probably go out and make sure the pipe is staying clear,” he said, but he didn’t so much as hazard a glance out the window. Which were beyond fogged at this point, inside and out.
“We should crack the windows a bit,” she agreed. “Safety and all that.”
“I meant to do that when I got back in the car. I guess I was a bit sidetracked,” he added, his tone somewhat acerbic.
“I’m so sorry for that, really. I just couldn’t see and I didn’t think. Honestly. Maybe I should get out and check. After all, you’ve barely begun to thaw out after being out there all that time.” She uncurled her legs and was shifting back around when he leaned forward and touched her arm. She stilled instantly, glanced over at him, then down at his hands. A nice, wide hand, with long, strong fingers. It was all she could do not to sigh in catlike contentment. “It’s only fair,” she told him, though that was a joke if she’d ever heard one. Not that it wasn’t her turn to go outside, but honestly, nothing about life had been fair of late.
However, she was thinking she could be persuaded to overlook a good deal of it, or at least put off dealing with the fallout from it, for another couple of hours. If he was so inclined to indulge her.
He squeezed her arm, smiled in a friendly way. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go ahead and crawl in the back. It’s getting late and we might as well try to stretch out as best we can.”
“You’re the tall one, you should take the backseat. It’s your car, after all.”
“It’s the rental company’s car,” he corrected glibly. “I don’t even own one.”
“You do have a license though, right?”
“What, you’re suddenly worried about my driving abilities?” He grinned. “I’d hazard to say neither of us should be pointing fingers there. Although in my defense, I haven’t had to drive on the left, with a stick shift, no less, in a long time.”
“All of which is to say you aren’t going to answer my question, are you?”
He leaned forward so he could shrug into his jacket. The motion brought his face within inches of hers. “I might not be the one to preach about playing it safe. But I’m not reckless, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Why did she think they were no longer talking about his driving abilities? At least not where cars were concerned. “Well,” she said, her lips curving of their own volition. Apparently she’d made her decision. “There’s reckless… and then there’s reckless.”
Chapter 7
She was really something. If he’d been the type to spend any time imagining the perfect vacation fling, he couldn’t have come up with a more unlikely scenario. But considering his life was generally made up of a string of unlikely scenarios, this trip and the reason behind it being a prime example, he wasn’t going to complain about this latest detour.
Tag smiled. “In all the snowstorms in all the world, how is it you had to come walking into mine?”
She laughed. “So now I’m Ilsa to your Rick? Funny, I don’t seem to recall dumping you in Paris.”
“Well, this isn’t exactly a gin joint in Morocco, either, so it’s a stretch to begin with.” He should get outside, check the snowfall around the tailpipe. But he couldn’t seem to pull away from her. Up close like this, he could make out the freckles on her nose, and the way her eyes tilted up at the corners when she smiled.
“You know that bad day I was mentioning earlier,” she said, covering the hand he’d laid on her arm with her own, “It was Top Ten kind of bad. I figured cheating death was just a cosmic joke, seeing as I’d managed not to launch myself off a cliff, only to end up facing freezing to death. Anyway, all this is to say, that, though I’m really sorry I’m inadvertently responsible for you having to spend the night in your car—”
“You’re happy just to have a car to spend the night in?”
Her smile widened, and he thought he spied the hint of dimples. It was an odd juxtaposition. From their limited time together, she’d come off as assured, confident, and not a little determined. Dimples didn’t seem to fit that character study. Funny then, how they only served to hike up his already growing interest in her.
That,” she agreed, her voice a shade smokier than before, “and that you happened to be the one driving it.”
He managed a casual shrug. Which was admirable considering what he wanted to do was grab her and taste that smart mouth of hers again. “Hotels with s
tuffed down mattresses can be highly overrated,” he said, trying like hell not to look at the backseat. Heated flirtation was one thing. Actually doing something constructive about it was another.
His work required thoughtful consideration, applied logic, and a great deal of deliberation before any conclusions were drawn. Much less action taken. Impulsive he was not. This recent trip notwithstanding. Of course, that same methodology applied to his personal life had resulted in a sex life that was sporadic at best. Perhaps it was time to continue just going for it, doing what he wanted, when he wanted.
Hell, he might as well have something to show for it besides a serious case of jet lag, and a pissed-off project director. He didn’t want to think about the call he’d made to Felix Ortega before booking his flight to Glasgow. As it was, he’d already taken what had turned out to be an extended leave of absence when he’d come back to the States just before Christmas after getting word of his father’s death. He’d been certain he’d be back on the flight by the new year and it was already close to the end of January. So asking his supervisor to extend his absence further hadn’t been a joyful task. Worse was the fact that when Felix had asked him how long he’d be gone, he’d hedged. If he was going to dig around his own ancestral past, he might as well dig to his heart’s content. Whether that meant a week, a month, or the rest of the damn winter, he didn’t know.
Felix had given him two weeks. After that he’d be bumped from the dig. If he let that happen, it would be the first time he hadn’t been either actively working a dig, or busting his ass to help find financing for the next one, since college. He wasn’t too sure how he was going to feel about that, so he’d put it out of his mind for the time being. Right at this moment however, he was feeling pretty damn good. One man’s sabbatical was another man’s vacation, right?
“Considering what little you’ve told me about your work,” she said, tracing little patterns on the back of his hand and up his arm with her fingertips. “I’m guessing sleeping in your car isn’t the worst accommodations you’ve ever had.”
“It might rank as the most cramped. And the coldest. Speaking of which, I should either go check the snowfall, or get out of this damp jacket.”
“Do I get to vote?”
He laughed, which suddenly turned into a yawn. “Jet lag,” he said, by way of apology. “I’ve been going since yesterday and I guess the heat in here is starting to zap me.”
She reached up then, and stroked the side of his face. Her fingers were warm against his skin, and though fatigue might be claiming certain parts of his body, other parts were making it well known they weren’t ready for sleep quite yet.
“You should get in the back,” she told him, her eyes searching his. “Sleep while you can. I’ll keep an eye on the snowfall.” Her fingers drifted down the side of his face, but when he thought she’d let them drop away, she let them linger along his chin. “I’m a night bird anyway.”
He instinctively covered her hand with his own, then turned his mouth into her palm, and kissed her there. He heard the soft intake of breath, knew how easy it would be to shift from the warm skin of her hand, to the soft fullness of her lips. He kept her hand to his face as he shifted his gaze just enough to catch hers. “I’ll check the snow,” he said, his voice hardly more than a murmur. “Then maybe we should both curl up in the back. Shared body heat and all that.”
Her lips curved and he literally ached to taste her. “So, chivalry isn’t dead after all,” she whispered.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, then decided the hell with it and pulled her the rest of the way to him. “How is it we only just met, and yet I feel like I’ve been dying to do this for eons.”
“That makes two of us,” she said, just before his mouth closed on hers.
This was nothing like the kiss outside. Her skin was warm now, her lips soft and inviting. And it wasn’t going to be over before it began. Any thoughts he had about keeping some shred of sanity regarding what he was doing here dissolved the instant she opened her mouth under his and welcomed him inside. It wasn’t just that it had been a long time since he’d kissed a woman like this—well, okay, the instant hard-on he was sporting probably had a little to do with that—but there was more going on here somehow. It was like it wasn’t enough to just kiss her, he wanted to consume her. It made no sense. But it didn’t make him stop.
She wove her fingers through his hair and clutched his head, and he thought maybe he wasn’t the only one losing his mind. She shifted her lips on his so she could take his mouth just as fully as he’d claimed hers. And it went quickly out of control from there. They dueled for possession, and he wasn’t sure if he cared much who won. In fact, losing control altogether was feeling pretty damn imperative at the moment.
He needed to feel more of her on more of him, was all he could think. He leaned back and dragged her across the center console to sprawl awkwardly across his chest and thighs. It was the most uncomfortable position possible, and yet neither of them so much as came up for air. Her body was heavy on his, pressing the armrest into one kidney and digging a knee into his thigh. He didn’t care about either. He wanted more. He wanted to feel her pressing against all of him, some parts more than others.
She was tugging at his coat, and he at her shirt. “Backseat,” she mumbled, the words muffled against his jaw.
“I know,” he panted. “We will. Just—” And then her mouth was on his again, and neither of them wanted to stop long enough to get comfortable. Maybe it was because if they allowed themselves so much as one tiny pause, they’d both realize just how insane this was getting, not to mention the further insanity of where it was heading.
He wrestled out of his coat and sweater, then helped her get her own sweater over her head. The air in the car was both warm and humid now from the heat of their bodies. Which meant her nipples were pressed like bullets through the silk of her bra because of him. Strict biological function from being aroused, he knew that. So why it made him feel such a strong sense of accomplishment, he had no idea.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, dropping kisses along her neck as he slid his hands down along the slope of her back.
“Och, I’m a freckled country lass,” she said on a breathless laugh, then gasped as his fingers found the clasp of her bra.
He shifted her body higher as the straps slid from her milky white shoulders, revealing small, beautifully shaped breasts with dark nipples begging for attention. “I could spend the rest of the night kissing every freckle,” he promised her. “And I’ll get started on that, right after I take care of—” The rest of his sentence was lost on a deep groan of satisfaction as he took that dark bud between his lips.
She arched more fully into him, moaning softly. He was deeply gratified when she tugged his head back down the instant he tried to move away.
“Mmm, yes. I need—” was all he managed before capturing the other one. After all, there were two. It was only fair. He slid his hand up between them and cupped her free breast with his palm, rubbing the engorged nipple between his fingers.
“Jesus and Mary,” she panted, her body writhing beneath his touch. “Do they teach you how to do this in the jungle?”
He laughed and shifted her back down so he could kiss her again. “The cultures there can be a lot… freer,” he admitted, then sucked in his breath as her now damp nipples rubbed along his naked chest “And there are a lot fewer clothes to get off,” he said, wishing like hell he wasn’t stuck in a goddamn compact car.
“Good point,” she panted, then they both laughed when they reached for each other’s belts at the same time.
She lifted her head just enough so he could see that sparkle in her eyes, eyes he wished he could see more clearly. He wanted to memorize every speckle of color and life in them, though he doubted he’d ever forget one second of this night. Or this woman.
“Maybe we should move to the spacious and roomy posterior of the vehicle,” she said, her accent making the exaggerati
on even more amusing.
“Smashing idea,” he said, making her snicker. “Ladies first.”
He tried to help her over the seat, but as neither of them was exactly petite, it wasn’t a simple maneuver. With only a few muffled oofs and epithets, she eventually landed in the back with her bra dangling off one shoulder and her sweater hanging crookedly off the driver’s seat headrest.
“Well, that was ladylike,” she said with a laugh, pushing her hair from her face as she shifted around so she could look at him. “About as graceful as a dancing elephant, I am.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen an elephant dance,” he said, leaning forward so he could dislodge his coat and sweater from where they’d become tangled around his waist.
“Well,” she said, “now you won’t feel as if you’ve missed anything.”
Maybe it was her direct approach to, well, life in general, and him specifically, but what should have been an awkward pause, ended up being easy and smooth. And despite the silly banter, just as sexually charged. He tossed his sweater and hers into the back. “Pillow,” he told her, then quickly shrugged into his damp coat, shivering as it caressed his now quite heated skin.
“What are you doing?”
“A dancing elephant is one thing, though you should know I don’t agree with your assessment. But a bull in a china shop would be better than me trying to wedge over those seats. I’m going the chilly route.” He glanced in the back then, intent on telling her to use their sweaters as a temporary blanket, but the words got all hung up on his tongue when he got a good look at her.
She was leaning back with her legs sprawled, one along the seat, one propped on the floor. She clutched the sweaters to her belly, but otherwise she was all long trousers and luminescent bare skin. Her hair was a disheveled mass of curls, and if there were more light, he’d imagine her skin would be flushed where his cheeks had rubbed against it. She was relaxed and easy in her partial nudity, which for some reason made him all the more hyper-aware of his own. Every inch of his skin felt alive.
Catch Me If You Can Page 9