by Heidi Hormel
“That’s where I come in. I’ve got my handy-dandy phone. I can pull up a satellite map and work backward. I bet between both of us, we can locate the settlement. The mission is just a ruin, though, not open to the public. If we need to go there, I’ll let Gwen know what we’re doing and there shouldn’t be any trouble.”
Possibly having a smart guide wasn’t all bad. Other than she might find him out and being clever made her even hotter. He turned slightly away and said, “I’ll need to search through my notes for the exact details.”
“Hey, it’s near enough to lunch. Let’s go just a little farther to that overhang up ahead.” She pointed to another rock formation that had an enticing patch of shade created by a cantilevered slab of rock, not that different from the one they’d explored on her trip to check the metates and petroglyphs. When they finally stopped and she dug out the meal, he barely tasted it as he searched for anything he could use to narrow down the location. The two of them discussed the noted landmarks in reference to their current trek.
“From his descriptions and looking at the map, I’d say it’s east of here, probably by ten miles or so.”
“Why?” he asked, but kept his eyes on the materials on the tablet. Her proximity wasn’t as distracting if he didn’t look at her.
“It’s the arroyo he describes in his notes. I know he didn’t call it that, but it certainly sounds like an arroyo. I found one like that. It may have changed since his time, but there is a large flat rock with five metates in a circle. It’s weird. Usually, metates aren’t spaced like that. Old explorers imagined that they were all sorts of things.”
“That could be what he talks about as the pentagram. Lead on. You are the guide, after all.”
“For now. But you’re the expert.”
“Expert on beans. You know the land. Shall we try that direction?”
“All right. Let’s pack up and go. You ready, Reese?” she said to the burro, who had been eyeing their food. “Lunch meat gives you gas, and none of us wants that.”
Her comment startled a laugh out of Jones.
“What?”
“I don’t know...it’s just—”
“Women in Scotland don’t talk about farts?” She grinned.
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“You mustn’t be hanging out with the right crowd. Or with women raised with a brother who was overly fascinated by all bodily functions, the grosser the better.”
Why did such a childish conversation make him feel happy? Because he was a pathetic git. “You’re probably right.”
“We’ll camp when we get to the arroyo. It’ll be near the end of the day anyway and then we can explore the area thoroughly tomorrow.” She efficiently packed up the meal and didn’t wait to see if he followed.
Camping tonight. One tent or two? Which way did he hope they’d go?
Soon he’d be back in Scotland after a successful search. Then he could restart his life and finally get out from under his brother’s shadow. With the discovery of Kincaid’s Cache, Jones would be able to get his career back on track. He could focus his research on the tales from the West, just as he’d always dreamed. That wasn’t the “real” archaeology his brother and father insisted upon. But now he had a chance to prove himself. There was archaeology worthy of his study here and all over the West and tall tales, like the one from his ancestor, often had a basis in fact.
* * *
“WE’LL STOP THERE,” Lavonda said, pointing to an open area surrounding large piles of boulders. He didn’t even grunt in reply. He’d been somber since their lunch stop, not that she’d expected chatter on a ride.
“Fine.” He rolled his impressive shoulders under his light khaki shirt. Joe lowered his head, obviously ready for a stop, too. “I bow to your superior trail knowledge.”
Was that a backhanded compliment? Or just a snarky comment? She ignored it, just like she did her brother when he was in a mood. She couldn’t put off deciding about the tent situation. She’d packed two, but she could set up just one of them. After that kiss... Was she really a fling kind of woman? She’d do another kick the can down the road on this decision, too. Yes, until the sun went down, at least. Why hadn’t she packed tequila or at least a couple of bottles of wine? Because this was not a pleasure trip. Remembering that made it clear to her that she’d be setting up two tents.
Reese brayed and shook himself, making his pack lurch. He trotted forward to the area she’d planned for camping. The donkey had a sixth sense about water and good camping spots, according to the former caretakers.
She needed to set her mind firmly on business. Because that man was temptation, like seven-layer lemon chiffon temptation. Reese continued to trot, slowing to a lope when she and her horse were within ten feet of him, then rushing forward. The little donkey bypassed the space by the dry riverbed she’d planned for their stop, instead scrambling up the hillside to a shallow cave that sheltered a flat space large enough for two tents and a fire. She wasn’t sure she should believe in the burro’s alleged talents. The sky looked stormy, too, but the weather was far-off. Still, the darned animal might be right. Finding higher ground was a better-safe-than-sorry bet. A dry riverbed could fill up fast. Brownie, her very placid horse, had begun to look nervously at the sky.
“He’s very nearly mountain goat, isn’t he?” Jones said when he and his mount caught up.
“Burros are sure-footed. That’s why they were so popular with miners. You should see them in the Grand Canyon. They’re everywhere and never make a misstep.” Stop babbling, Lavonda. Set up camp with two tents.
“Why didn’t we stop at that sandy area?”
“That’s a dry riverbed, and it looks like rain over there,” she said, unpacking Reese and pointing with her chin. The storm was moving more quickly than she’d expected. She could dimly see the black sheets of rain, and it was getting dark fast.
“Can I help?” He stepped to her. Instead of the approaching storm, she could only catch Jones’s pine-and-moss scent.
“Um...sure. Get the horses staked, unsaddled and settled,” she said over her shoulder, moving equipment quickly so she could start on the tents. She’d get one up and put in all of the items that needed to stay dry. Then she’d work on getting the second one set up. Reese twitched against his lead line again. She knew how he felt. The storm was barreling down on them. Fortunately, Jones had cared for horses before. Together, they worked with minimal talking. They were ready to get the second tent up when the rain hit. Reese and his horsey companions found shelter against the rocks, butts facing the driving downpour. She sped into the tent, which was packed with equipment and filled with Jones’s presence. Lucky she was small, because otherwise there wouldn’t have been room.
Rain pelted the tent and lightning cracked. “Just in time,” Lavonda said. “These storms don’t last long, but they’re intense while they’re going on.” In the illumination of the lightning, she saw him nod. “Is the lantern nearby?”
The tent filled with light. She scanned the space. All the important equipment looked to be here. Including both sleeping bags. “In that pack on your right are energy bars, if you need something to tide you over. There’s water, too. Although lucky for us, I thought to put out other pans to catch the rainwater. Out here you never miss a chance to get more water.”
“Hmm,” Jones mumbled. He had an energy bar shoved in his mouth.
She laughed. “You should have said that you were starving. I could have gotten to the bars earlier.”
“Didn’t realize it until we stopped moving.” He pushed the rest of the bar into his mouth, took a few manly chews, then swallowed.
“Better?” she asked. He nodded and then she saw him reach for water. That was good idea for both of them. The rain continued to fall hard, but the thunder sounded farther off. Probably another five or ten minutes and the s
torm would blow over. “Could you pass me some water, too?” He took a swig from the bottle, wiped off the top and handed it to her. She looked at the bottle for a moment before taking it. Why did sharing the bottle seem more intimate than kissing? She drank and decided that, like two tents, from now on there would be two bottles, because she could swear that she tasted him.
“Sometimes storms come up like this in Scotland.”
“This one sounds like it might be slowing. It’s unusual for this time of year. Most of our storms come in the summer—monsoons out of the Pacific.”
The conversation dribbled to a stop. The glow of the lantern threw large shadows in the corner of the tent. Jones filled up more than the physical space of his body, though that was impressive enough. She’d been around large, strong men her whole life with Mama and Daddy on the rodeo circuit, but none of them had made her feel as small and helpless...feminine as Jones. Even the freckles that she noticed across the tops of his high cheekbones didn’t make him seem less intimidating and masculine. He definitely wasn’t the sort of man she should sleep with, right? Where was smart, logical Lavonda when she was needed? Because that gal would understand why it was such a bad idea to even “just” sleep with Jones. She would know that this would not end well, no matter what the other wild-for-action Lavonda had suggested at the beginning of this trip.
* * *
JONES KEPT HIS GAZE glued on his hands, knowing no matter what he did, it mustn’t show how much he wanted her. He watched the shadows dance over Lavonda’s curving softness, thinking he should say something to break the silence but not what he wanted to: Come closer so I can kiss that soft spot behind your ear and let’s see what happens next.
“The big problem out here is the ground,” she said, startling him. He’d moved on to concentrating on not noticing her pleasantly earthy scent now that he wasn’t watching her. She went on, “It’s so dry that the sand and dirt get packed down like cement.”
“Concrete,” he said. “Cement is the ingredient. Concrete is the product.” He could feel her glare. Good. That broke the tension.
“No matter what you call a cat, don’t call it late for dinner. It means that the water—”
“That doesn’t make sense. Is that an American saying?”
“Just something Mama says. It means that what you call it really doesn’t matter because you understood what I was saying.”
He harrumphed. Dear Lord. When had he transformed from caber-tossing Highland marauder into stodgy old professor? About the thousandth time he’d watched the Dolly-Acropolis video and promised himself that he wouldn’t be lured by an impossible-to-ignore archaeological white whale. So what was he doing in the American desert if not being lured by a story...and a sexy cowgirl—a recurring fantasy from his teenage years?
“The water just runs off,” she continued. The rain had stopped. “That means dry riverbeds are suddenly rivers. Worse. It might not even be raining where you are, but it rained at a higher elevation and suddenly there is a wall of water rushing down the arroyo.”
“Sounds like you’ve had experience with that.”
“Not me. But it’s something that Mama and Daddy taught us. They’d seen horses and cattle washed away. You don’t fool around with that.”
“You lived on a ranch?”
“Not really. We did rodeo. Daddy managed a place for a bit. We moved around before we settled in Arizona.”
“The Kincaids have lived on the same lands for five hundred years.” He could look at her again, his heart having settled back into a regular, slow rhythm.
“We lived in a trailer when I was growing up. Made it easy to move along. Mama said that there must be Gypsy blood in the Leigh family. They still travel a lot. Jessie and Danny are settled, though,” she said wistfully, and he wanted to hear more. But she went on, “The rain is done. I’ll get supper ready. I’m sure the energy bar won’t hold you very long.”
“It’ll do.” A few splatters of rain hit the tent. “Do you think others have ever sheltered under here?” he asked. The air in the tent suddenly got richer with her scent. A subtle heat radiated from her body. She shifted and another wave of her heady scent wafted to him.
“Possibly. This area has been home to a number of groups.”
Thunder cracked so sharply the rocks seemed to shift. Lavonda’s hand shot out as if to steady herself. He clutched it and then tugged gently so that she fell forward against his body. He didn’t ignore what fate was presenting him, finding her lips for a quick, hard kiss that softened into something gentle. Like the rain coming down again just beyond the ledge. She allowed him to explore her mouth for a moment before her hands crept up his back and her fingers pushed through his hair. The feel of her small, strong fingers soothed and heated him. Her tongue touched his and he pulled her closer.
Jones didn’t stop a deep hum of pleasure. Her hands moved to massage his neck, her mouth opening for him in a way that made it clear she wanted more. He pulled her upward so he had a better angle on her sweetly wicked mouth. He didn’t even jerk as the next rumble of thunder vibrated through the rocks. Hadn’t the storm been moving away? Then he stopped caring what the thunder, lightning and rain were doing, because this fierce woman was discovering his body with a thoroughness that made him gasp.
Lavonda shifted closer and he took that as encouragement to touch her. His hands moved surely, instinctively until he heard her gasp and moan.
“Yes. That. Do that again,” she whispered against his mouth, trying to get even closer, moving her legs so that they fit around him, belly to belly.
“Here,” he said, the r rolled into a growling noise he didn’t recognize as his own voice.
Her head fell back in obvious delight and need. His mouth latched on to her neck and he scraped his cheek along the sensitive skin until she shivered in gasping pleasure.
“Lavonda,” he whispered.
“Why can’t it have an r?”
“What?” he asked, his lips moving from her.
She looked up and saw his eyes darkened to nearly black by his dilated pupils. Good God, she wanted him. “Nothing.” She reached up and pulled his mouth back to hers. She tasted him, seeming to want to absorb the essence of him. His tongue swept her mouth.
Jones didn’t care if she sounded crazy because she tasted perfect. She fit his arms perfectly. He wanted her and that was something he’d missed for months, maybe years. That wasn’t right... Her moan focused his attention back to her, her taste a smoky hint of chili with the bright lightness of a fresh leaf. That was the high desert. He was home. He grabbed her tight, needing to feel those compact but feminine curves against him, melting into him.
“Wait,” she said, leaning away from him for a moment. “What are we doing here?”
He didn’t have enough blood in his brain to say anything but the truth. “We’re going to get into that sleeping bag and I’m going to have my way with you.”
“Oh.” She exhaled. “Just so we’re clear, but I don’t have any—”
“I’ve got...” The words stuck in his throat because she had just unbuttoned her shirt. She wiggled to get out of his lap, but he couldn’t resist touching his lips to the soft skin of her breasts not covered by her satiny bra.
Lavonda inhaled sharply but didn’t stop moving until she had him pulled on top of her in the nest of sleeping bags. They fit together so well. His hand on her breast, her leg thrown over his hip so that their bodies aligned. His mouth stayed on her mouth even as she arched into him. She yanked at his shirt. He returned the favor by pulling off her remaining clothes. Next time—yes, absolutely next time—he’d take his time to explore every inch of her. He cradled himself between her thighs. She pushed lightly at his shoulder.
“What about—”
“I’m covered. No more talking. No more—”
She shut him up with h
er mouth and shifted. He knew just what she wanted from him. He took care of their protection then obliged her by moving into her surely, firmly. She sighed in pleasure and joy. For a moment they stayed like that, connected. The stillness stretching out until she lifted her hips just a little. He plunged into her, rocking with her again and again, forever. When she thought she couldn’t reach any higher, she tightened and then shivered with pure and perfect delight. He growled out his pleasure and shuddered into stillness.
His heavy weight was pressing her into the ground. He rolled onto his back, where she naturally cuddled into his chest, her head fitting easily under his chin, his arm around her. He savored the last vibrations of her pleasure as he dozed off, pulling her a fraction of an inch tighter against him.
Chapter Six
Oh, crap. Lavonda had known even as she’d ached from Jones’s touch that giving in was a bad idea. Now they’d done it. This was going to get awkward. Snuggled against his warmth, she felt his relaxed but still-solid muscles. Good. He was asleep. She squirmed away and found her magically disappearing clothing. Thank goodness, the rain had stopped. She quietly got out of the tent and took a long, deep breath.
Don’t dwell on your mistakes or they’ll build you a dwelling. Another gem from Mama. Repeating this one allowed Lavonda to focus on dinner rather than what had happened six feet away. She’d get the remainder of the camp set up on her own. The less sensitive equipment and supplies had been covered with the canvas of the other tent. As soon as she made sure Reese and the horses had come through the storm okay, she’d set up the other tent. They’d each sleep in their own quarters. Not that she wouldn’t want a repeat of... No. She couldn’t think that way. They were colleagues. Professionals. He wasn’t staying, so maybe it’d be okay. They wouldn’t have to work together forever, just until he flew back home. Of course, that all depended on whether Jones wanted a repeat.
“What’s your opinion, Reese?” she asked as she came up to the little burro standing patiently at the edge of the overhang. His rear was only a bit damp. “No wisdom from the animal kingdom. I bet if Cat were here, she’d give her opinion.” Reese looked over his shoulder at her in disgust. “You’re just interested in food, none of this philosophy, right?” She stroked the donkey’s head and gave him a pat before moving to the provisions to find his and the horses’ feed.