by Ann Charles
Her tongue felt thicker than normal, like she’d traded it for a dry sponge. “Well,” she tried to think of something witty to toss back, or something that would pinch out this flame flickering between them before it spread any further. “I am a little less hairy than Rover.”
Oh, jeez! Really? That was the best she could come up with? Maybe Quint would take pity on her and leave after she opened her desk drawer and shut her head in it a few times.
His brow wrinkled. “Only just a little?”
“Angélica!” The sound of Jared’s voice made her jerk in surprise. She looked toward the mesh flap. Her ex-husband’s face was pressed against it. “We need to discuss this curse situation.”
No, they didn’t. “I’m busy right now.” If only she had a door to slam in his face.
Jared’s gaze moved to Quint and then to the bra that still dangled from his finger. “What’s going on in here?”
Chapter Six
Chachac: Traditional rain ceremony.
A long, long time ago in a kingdom far, far away, Angélica had married a man she had thought was Prince Charming. It turned out she’d been played a fool, hornswoggled by a handsome face whispering empty promises of securing her a teaching position with tenure at the same university where her father had taught for well over a decade.
So maybe the fault wasn’t all Jared’s.
Maybe her ambition had made her gullible when he’d painted the fairytale life they’d lead, working dig sites side by side like her parents had all of her life.
And maybe her attraction to the distinguished, well-renowned Dr. Steel had more to do with skipping a few rungs on her career ladder than actually enjoying his companionship.
And truth be known, she’d been so caught up in the fantasy of being as revered as her parents had been at the time—prior to her mom’s downfall—that she’d overlooked his inability to meet her cravings both in and out of the sack. She’d even gone so far as to convince herself that there was more to marriage than love and good sex … or even okay sex. After all, she’d been around the block a few times by then. She knew how to take care of her own needs, which had become necessary in her marriage way too soon.
But that woman, the one who’d been driven at all costs to have everything her parents had shared, all of the professional accolades they’d received, had long ago awakened from that fairytale. Her carriage had turned back into a pumpkin and rotted; that sparkly glass slipper had given her blisters long before the ball was over.
As for Prince Charming, he’d granted her the divorce she’d wanted but at a cost to her career back in the States. She’d figured that relocating south of the border for much of the year, far from his reign, would save her from dealing with him, allowing her to live happily forever after in the jungle.
It turned out she’d been foolish yet again, as evident from the Prince’s visit not only to her dig site, but now to her tent.
She glared at her ex-husband through the mesh flap. What in the world made him believe he could come down here and order her around like they were still bound by vows?
“Go away, Jared. I’m not in the mood to discuss anything with you right now,” especially not that damned curse, “unless you are here to say ‘Adios’ and need directions back to the village.”
“Is that yours?” Jared ignored her jab, pointing towards Quint and the bra he was holding.
“Of course it’s mine.” There was no use denying it. “Who else would it belong to?” The only other female on the site was María, Teodoro’s wife, and she was about two cup sizes larger than Angélica.
“Why is Parker fondling it?”
She looked over at Quint, who was now holding her bra up between them by the straps, as if sizing it to her chest.
His eyes gleamed with a devilish glint when they met hers. “I think I like this pink one best,” he said, “but I’d have to see the others on you again to be sure. Maybe I can come back later after your company leaves.”
She shot Quint a knock-it-off squint. “He’s just joking around, Jared.” She snatched the bra from his fingers and tossed it down by the vase she’d found earlier. “Quint was kind enough to bring me something to eat.”
“You should be wary of Trojans gifting wooden horses.”
She rolled her eyes. Jared had never had much imagination when it came to insults.
“I am not a Trojan,” Quint said, sounding like Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Jared snorted. “Obvious from your erroneous accent.”
Quint shrugged off Jared’s criticism. “Although Angélica would give Helen a run for her money, don’t you think, Steel?” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
In spite of his obvious jesting, her stupid pulse fluttered.
Enough!
Enough of Jared’s meddling.
Enough of Quint’s flirting.
Enough of her sitting here accomplishing nothing.
She collected her empty plate from the floor and stood, needing to get rid of both troublesome men and find her father. She had a much bigger problem to deal with than a pissing match over her dirty bra.
“Jared, I’ll give you two minutes to speak your piece.” She unzipped the mesh flap, glancing back before she stepped outside. “Parker, thanks again for supper. You know the way to your tent.”
Jared backed up enough to let her out, placing a hand on her shoulder when she’d cleared.
Jeez, she hadn’t seen him this possessive since he’d slipped that huge honking engagement ring on her finger. She pulled away from him. “What do you need?”
“Join me for a walk.” He nodded toward the trees.
She’d sooner snuggle with venomous pit vipers.
“I’m a little busy right now.” She glanced at Quint, who was squatting next to something on the floor by her desk. What was Rover getting into now? “Parker told me about the accident.”
“It seems you’ve had a plague of these so-called accidents lately.”
A series of snorts came from inside her tent followed by a happy squeal.
Jared frowned. “What was that?”
Quint joined them, holding Rover in the crook of his arm.
“Of all the disgusting …” Jared turned to Angélica, his nose wrinkled. “Surely you’re not going to allow him to keep that revolting, smelly over-sized rodent in his tent.”
“Rover is not a rodent,” Angélica said, taking her little buddy from Quint’s arms. “He’s a peccary. And I just gave him a bath this morning so he smells like my citrus soap.” She sniffed him. Or more like one of María’s tortillas.
Parker scratched Rover between the ears. “Let me know if you need a javelina-sitter anytime soon.”
“I’ll keep you in mind.”
“You do that.” He cupped her chin and leaned in close, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “And I’ll keep you in mind.” Before she could find a direct line from her brain to her tongue and hit him with a smartass comeback, he brushed his lips over hers. “Sleep tight, Dr. García.”
With her lips tingling, she watched him go. Of course his exit had all been a show for Jared’s sake, but still … Damn!
“Do you think it’s wise to be fraternizing like that with a man writing about this site for a national publication?”
No, and she knew better without her ex-husband rubbing her nose in it. “Shut up, Jared.” She set Rover down inside her tent.
“What a brilliant way to secure future funding, Angélica. Men will line up with cash in hand to spend a couple of weeks in your tent getting the ‘real’ archaeological experience.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him her full-on scowl. What had she ever seen in the arrogant jerk? Oh, yeah, his lofty position in her father’s university. Otherwise, beneath his classically handsome features, blue eyes, and dark blonde hair, he was about as appealing as a dung beetle.
“What do you want, Jared? Did you come here for some reason other than to insult me and my jabalí?”
“I want to talk to you abou
t your father.”
“What about him?”
“I’m concerned about his health.”
She couldn’t see where that was any concern of Jared’s. “Dad can take care of himself.” She turned back toward her tent, needing to grab a change of clothes for the shower before seeking out her dad.
Jared caught her by the upper arm and pulled her around to face him. “You’ve been too close to him these last few months to see the changes. He looks haggard, and that toothache is a sure sign of being overstressed.”
She looked pointedly at where his hand gripped her arm until he let go. “What do you know of his stress? You just arrived here this morning.”
“I know the university’s decision on funding and grants can determine his future here on the Yucatán Peninsula. I’m sure that’s not making sleep come easy for him.”
“And what would you have me do to remedy this? We both know that I have no control over what they decide.”
“No, but I do.” His smile made her feel cold and clammy inside.
She lifted her chin. “And you’re loving that, aren’t you?”
“Come now, darling. Don’t take that tone.”
“I’m not your ‘darling’ anymore, Jared. I’m your ex-wife. Try to remember that EX part.”
He ran his finger down the side of her neck. “That was not by my choice. You left me, remember?”
She brushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Tsk, tsk, my love. Those frown lines will become permanent soon enough. Keep in mind that it would well benefit you and this dig site to work with me instead of against me.”
Her patience for his games had long ago gone the way of the great Maya kings. She held up her hand, counting off her fingers. “I’m not your employee. I’m not your co-worker. I’m not your love.”
“I can’t help the feelings I still have for you, Angélica.”
Oh, please. “You never loved me.” He’d been more interested in having her dressed to the nines and hanging on his arm like a trophy. “What are you really doing here on my dig site?”
“Deciding your father’s chance at further funding from the university, something you would be wise to remember in the future when I tell you I need to speak with you.”
There he was, the controlling Jared she’d known during their brief marriage, peeking out from behind that fake smile that barely made it to the corners of his mouth.
“Ah ha.” She nodded slowly. “I had a feeling this would come down to a desperate game of blackmail at some point. I just didn’t think you’d play your trump card so soon.” After all of these years, he was still finding ways to play on her weakness—her love for her parents. “So, what’s the price, Jared? What do I have to do to get your go-ahead for more funding for Dad? What’s the going rate now for extortion by an ex-husband? A hand-job? Sex?”
His nostrils flared at her blatant crassness. “As tempting as you can be when you aren’t covered in filth and sweat, darling, I’m not sure what you offer in bed is an equivalent exchange for my professional blessing.”
Prick! “What then? A public ass-kissing in front of my crew?”
“For starters, get rid of Quint Parker.”
* * *
Early the next morning, Angélica was still clenching her fists about her run-in with Jared outside her tent. After he had spelled out what he wanted, she’d walked away without a backwards glance in spite of his demanding she return and finish their conversation. She’d made a beeline for the shower, the one place she knew she’d find solace, and had scrubbed her hair with a vengeance. By the time she’d cooled off enough to pay her father a visit without letting him see any evidence of her agitation, it was well past his normal bedtime. So, she’d decided to show up on his doorstep first thing before they headed to breakfast.
And here she was, still wide-eyed and bushy-tailed about Jared. “Dad, I need to talk to you.”
Juan unzipped the tent flap. He waved her inside to wait while he finished putting on his socks and boots.
“I have a solution to our problem with the curse,” he said from where he sat on his cot.
“What?”
“ A Lolcatali ceremony.”
“Absolutely not!” She wouldn’t give it a second thought. “Like I told Teodoro, there has to be some other way.”
He frowned “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant about this. What harm could it cause?”
She couldn’t believe he was considering it. “Don’t you see? By allowing the ceremony, I’m acknowledging to my crew that this curse exists.”
“Maybe, sort of, I guess, but if it calms them down—”
“It’s not going to calm them down, only open the door for more accidents to be blamed on the curse.” She could imagine how far some of the men would take it. “I don’t need this to be blown out of proportion any more than it already has been.” She thought of Jared’s veiled threats. “Neither do you.”
Her father waved her worry away. “If you’re referring to Jared, don’t sweat it. He already knows about the curse and doesn’t give it any merit. I doubt how we handle this situation will play a role in his or the university’s decision about funding my future projects.”
After facing off with her ex-husband last night, she had a different take on that. “I don’t give a fucking shit about that damned university!” Her frustration slipped out before she could catch it by the collar.
“Gatita! Such language. Your grandmother just rolled over in her grave.”
She scrubbed both hands down her face, and then sighed, regaining control. “Sorry, Dad.” She looked up at the tent ceiling. “Lo siento, abuela.”
His brow knitted. “Are you okay?”
She smiled—or at least tried to produce a facial movement that resembled one. She didn’t want him stressing about her. Jared wasn’t the only one who’d noticed her father’s haggardness this dig season. Something was weighing on him, something he denied whenever she prodded.
“I was actually referring to your reputation in the archaeology community, not what my ex-husband thinks about the curse. What do you think your peers would say if they heard we were having exorcisms down here to cleanse the place of evil spirits? You’d be the joke of the year.”
She’d already gone through her mother becoming a laughing stock with her “wild” theory. She didn’t think she could stomach watching the same thing happen to her father’s career, not when she had the means to prevent it.
He nodded, but she knew by the way he was chewing on his lower lip that he wasn’t fully convinced.
“And what about Quint’s article?” She continued. “Can you imagine the fun the press would have after his story comes out in American Archaeology Today? I can see the headline now, ‘Archaeologists Ask the Dead for Help!’”
Juan chuckled, but still didn’t agree with her.
She pressed on. “Then there’s the Mexican government to consider. With all of the bad press, they’d kick me out of the country without even a vaya con dios.”
Running out of convincing reasons, she reached for his heartstrings. “And how are we supposed to prove Mom’s theory and clear her reputation if we’re banned from coming down here to work anymore?”
“All right, you win, gatita. The Lolcatali isn’t such a great idea, but we have to do something.”
Yes, they did. “Maybe if you’d talk to the crew …”
He shook his head and lay back on his cot. “No amount of talking is going to work. You know how they are when it comes to this supernatural stuff.”
“Okay.” She rocked back on her heels. “Think, think, think.” Maybe Teodoro could help somehow.
Then it hit her. “A Chachac ceremony!”
“What?” Juan looked doubtful. “It’s too early. They usually hold those later in the season.”
“I know, but it never hurts to have a little rain.”
He still didn’t look convinced. “And how will this ease their fears about the cur
se?”
“By distracting them. A little bit of feasting and a lot of drinking will take their minds off the curse for a few days. Help it to begin fading from their memories.”
Juan nodded slowly. “That might work. Can you convince Teodoro to perform this ceremony tomorrow? Is there enough time for him to prepare?”
“I’ll talk to him after breakfast. I’m pretty sure we already have most of the food and supplies here. He can ride into the village and bring back whatever else we need this afternoon. There shouldn’t be any problem fitting the rest on the back of the bike.”
“Remind him to check for any mail for Quint.”
She still wondered what could be so important Quint needed to have his mail forwarded down there.
“Okay. When Teodoro returns he can grab a couple of the men and head into the forest to hunt for a deer to use in the ritual. Tomorrow, with their help he can finish preparations. We’ll plan to start it in the afternoon.”
This would work out perfectly. After her crew heard the news, excitement would replace their fears. “I’ll announce the ceremony at supper this evening,” she told him, clapping her hands together. Done deal. Problem solved. Back to the business of digging up the past.
“I thought it took four days to make balche,” Juan said.
“Teodoro always has some made up. He doesn’t like to be caught without ceremonial wine on hand.”
“Okay, maybe that will work.” The twinkle in his eyes eased her worries for the moment. “But what about Jared?”
“I was thinking we could stuff an apple in his mouth, mount him on a spit, and roast him over the campfire.”
Juan laughed. That made her relax even more. But as his laughter quieted, concern tightened his forehead again. “Has he cornered you yet?”
She kneeled down to tighten the strings on her hiking boots, worried he might see something in her face that would give away her secret. “Why would he want to talk to me? It’s you that he’s here to see.”
“No. I’m just an excuse. He’s here for you.”
If that were the case, he’d have chosen sex last night in exchange for his blessing.
“The way he’s constantly watching you, I think he’s still in love with you.”