Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1)

by Sutton Bishop

  That was quite a fight we had. You have a fiery temper (goes with that interesting hair of yours). I didn’t appreciate the foul words you called me. I hope you find it in your heart to apologize to me. You do owe me an apology.

  What an asshole.

  Eric had appeared on her doorstep within the hour, incensed, accusing Ari of following him to the shop, of stalking him. He shoved her roughly into her apartment and slammed the storm door shut behind him.

  She screamed at him, enraged that her naïveté had allowed this to happen, that she hadn’t any idea he was married and a father, and that he had deliberately sucked her into an affair. How had she not seen the real him? He had presented himself as someone else.

  Fear exploded in her when his face grew purple and he shoved her again. She seized her cell phone on the entry table next to where she crashed into the wall. Hand shaking, she waved it in his face, threatening to call the police. He had laughed, and she made the call, yelling at him to get the fuck out, to stay the hell away from her.

  Like lightning, he had turned on his heel, the door cracking from the impact of his fury on his way out. Ari struggled to calm her panting while she lied to 911, that she had made the call in error. Hurriedly she swept up the glass shards, packed a suitcase, and left for her parents, the blaring country music settling her nerves and helping to staunch the flow of her tears.

  As I explained, before you started screaming at me that night in your apartment, the same day you showed up in the ice-cream shop, my wife had planned our family vacation in Banff. She and the girls sprung it on me there as a surprise. At first I fought going because I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible before leaving the country. You and I had discussed making plans, remember? But as luck would have it, my wife stressed I was going to be gone most of the summer working and she and the girls wanted time with me. You understand my wife takes care of the social calendar. I just show up. So, when you acted crazy that night, well, that’s why I left. We left on our vacation the next day.

  You need to see my side of things. My marriage is not satisfying, but she’s a nice person and I have two beautiful girls with her.

  I came to see you again, after we returned a week later. Imagine my surprise upon discovering that you had moved, conveniently leaving while I was on vacation with my family. I’m disappointed in you, Ariana. Behavior such as this magnifies your age, despite you having your PhD. It’s behavior I would expect from my teenage daughters.

  Fuck you, Eric.

  I was impressed that you were able to break your lease and move abruptly with no forwarding address. I tried calling, but you had changed your phone number. You ran away from me. I’m not happy that I had to track you down. You are wondering how and why I tracked you down, aren’t you?

  She nodded. What was his intention? Why bother contacting her?

  The semester-end departmental email detailed how you were awarded a last-minute position on the interdisciplinary research project in Guatemala. Well done! And without my approval as dean, I might add. You can be very clever when you want. When I inquired after finding you gone, my secretary was able to dig up your address in Antigua, your new phone number, as well as the research itinerary. The why is pretty simple, Ariana. I miss you. I miss us.

  Livid, she asked, “It’s all about you, isn’t it, Eric?” Her voice grew louder with each word. “Not even one iota of remorse! You are the shit of shits!” Pounding erupted on her shared wall. “Sorry!” she called out.

  You and I happened rather fast. You gave me all the signals that you were interested in me. I’m sorry you felt the need to leave immediately after you found out I was married and a father. I thought you knew. In fact, I find it odd you didn’t. You’re so smart and outstanding at research.

  I would have told you. You should have asked.

  The night before the ice-cream store visit and their fight at her apartment she had been on cloud nine, buoyed by his words, “I care deeply for you, Ariana.” He had manipulated her. Moved by his words, she had let him make love to her. He was somewhat mechanical, and the second time was over just as quickly, leaving her disappointed and her body not sated. The sex wasn’t much of an improvement over when she’d lost her virginity to her high school boyfriend in the back of his parents’ Ford after the homecoming dance. That had been a fumble-fest.

  I haven’t told my wife about us because I don’t want to leave her and the girls, but I don’t want to lose you either. I want to know what you are thinking.

  Be your mistress? Are you fucking kidding me? Never. Shame coursed through Ari as she thought about how committed her parents were to each other and how they had modeled a healthy, loving relationship all her life. They would be appalled by her involvement with a married man.

  You talked constantly about researching in Central America, specifically the Mayan culture you’re so enamored with. Well, now you’re there. Your expertise will be extremely useful. I hope the experience is everything you hoped for, and more. You are exceptionally bright, although a bit naïve. That will change as you mature.

  Ari scoffed at that, sitting back and mulling over Eric’s words. Always adding a put-down in with the compliment. His special one-two punch. Prick. His words blamed her, mocked her. She was so over him and his conceited, all-about-him self.

  Ari had first met Eric—her new dean—when she’d attended the department cocktail party at the beginning of the fall semester. He had approached her. Maybe it was due to the second glass of wine she was working on, the one she grabbed from the passing server in order to steel herself against the feelings of inferiority she picked up from her female colleagues. The second glass must have compromised her schmuck radar and allowed him within her normally stout defenses. Or maybe it was due to reading Eric’s résumé in the department newsletter, which highlighted his vast travel and publications, particularly in the same areas of anthropological interests she had, specifically the Maya.

  Stocky and of average height, Eric was extremely fit for a man his age. Ari relaxed the more they talked, overcoming the initial uncomfortable sensations his eyes evoked. The pale blue color—many would call them ghostly—was the lightest eye color she had ever seen, and it took some getting used to. The alcohol helped. His wheat-hued flat top was peppered with white, and his skin had the undertones of an olive complexion. Ari found the combination interesting.

  Eric was a wonderful conversationalist, aside from his ego, which kept making an appearance. She was in awe of his vast anthropological and archaeological experience, hanging on every word, every story.

  He had not worn a wedding band, so she believed he was single. In fact, there was no mention of a wife or family when he was featured in the department newsletter as the new dean. The article had focused heavily on his research, publications, travels, and excavation work around the world. That evening, Eric had walked her back to her apartment bordering the university. The night was warm, and the stars popped in the sky. He was the perfect gentleman, leaving when she was safely inside.

  She saw him often throughout the semester—in his office, passing on campus, a few times in the union cafeteria, and at departmental meetings and get-togethers. He was professional; however, Ari felt him watching her from a distance. It wasn’t until the end-of-semester party, a brittle night with snow spitting in the blustery wind, that Eric walked her home again. He bid her good night with a kiss on the forehead.

  She joined her parents on break in Mexico, not giving her fair-haired, blue-eyed dean more than a passing thought. She believed he was too old for her. But as soon as Ari returned, Eric continued to pursue her, and in retrospect, he was calculating, drawing no attention to himself or to them. He was always nice, and his interest disarmed her, offsetting the lack of inclusion by her departmental colleagues.

  Their relationship progressed quickly. At the end of January, Eric asked her and a few of their colleagues to dinner. The weather turned to sleet, so he gave Ari a ride to her apartment. No one wo
uld think anything of it. He asked her to dinner a week later. This time it was just the two of them at a back table in the tiny dimly lit Japanese restaurant. He told her he would like to see her but wanted to keep it quiet due to the fact that they were colleagues and he was her boss. Many would not approve. She saw the sensibility in his request. He walked her home and sealed the evening with a chaste kiss, which she returned. Thereafter, Eric never again accompanied her anywhere, choosing to meet at her apartment instead, where they enjoyed intimate carryout dinners and conversation. No one knew about them.

  She overlooked his autocratic temperament because she was so impressed by his mind and how people listened to him when he spoke. She snuck into several of his lectures and left before they were over, appreciating his mastery at the lectern and how his students hung on his every word, even though he tended to be pompous.

  I’ve heard about the fellow heading it up. Italian and machismo. Brilliant. He can be a real son of a bitch. I also hear he chases a lot of skirts, so watch yourself.

  That’s rich, Eric. You, the pot, calling the kettle black. Questions about Luca niggled in the back of her mind. Like Eric, he didn’t wear a ring. But was he married? Did he have kids? She needed to listen and ask around discreetly. Dammit. Why was this happening again? Why was she attracted to the person she reported to? Granted he is a good decade younger or more than Eric and far more virile.

  Luca’s physicality made her swoon. His kisses burned hot where Eric’s were tepid. And his green eyes, they beckoned her. Her body sizzled whenever his name was mentioned, when she thought of him, or when she was in his presence. Her common sense lagged in the distance. Bullshit, Ari. He is arresting, disarming. Damnably sexy. Your brain takes a hiatus. All your defenses vanish. You need to find a modicum of control.

  She was in a heap of shit. Her powerful attraction to Luca could screw up her time on the excavation, as well as negatively impact the team of colleagues she had yet to bond with. Shit, he’s whom I report to. What am I going to do? I need to end it before it goes any further.

  You have my number. Call me. I want to set you straight, Ariana. You owe me this—and your apology, of course.

  Eric

  The blood left her brain, making her feel faint. She inhaled deeply. “Leave me alone, you bastard,” she whispered angrily, sweating again, her heart racing. Tears ran from her eyes and dripped off her jaw onto her crossed tanned legs.

  Her hand pressed the delicate hummingbird to the base of her throat. Closing her eyes, she continued taking deep cleansing breaths, focusing on giving herself a gift—that of forgiveness. She forgave herself for being naïve and for succumbing to Eric’s lies. Her tears came harder as she forgave herself for hurting his wife and daughters, the thing that bothered her the most. Ari sat quietly on her bed, calm after she was cried out, recognizing a final step was called for.

  She rose and dug through the top drawer of the dresser for matches, striking a match once she was in the bathroom. The letter caught fire immediately. Dropping the flaming letter to the shower floor, she said, “I dodged a bullet. Good riddance, you fucker.”

  As the paper turned to ash, the sense of weariness was replaced with peace. Ari turned on the shower, watching the ashes circle before disappearing down the drain. Chilled, she shed her clothes and rinsed off the dried sweat. She threw her towel on the back of the chair, flipped off the lights, and climbed into bed. She was asleep in minutes.

  Back in his room, Luca started to read through his notes again. Why? I can discuss the parameters and metrics in my sleep. He rubbed his hand over the rough planes of his face and then tossed his notes aside and turned off the light, closing his tired eyes.

  Ari’s eyes, the color of rich earth after a soft morning rain, taunted him. His heart had skipped and sped up when he had seen the hunger in their depths earlier tonight, and when she had licked her full lips, he dove in. Merda, can she kiss. Sleep evaded him. However, visions of what he wanted to do to her did not. His body was taut with need. He growled and folded his arms above his head. The fan quietly rotating above pulled him into his thoughts. Sighing, he pulled his focus back to the summer ahead and how he had worked on the project for close to a year, planning and making changes as his team had taken shape, some of the world’s best in their specific fields.

  Working in Petén this summer might turn out to be his most rewarding project. The breadth and depth of knowledge was impressive, and he suspected having an interdisciplinary team would enrich the discoveries. The sharing of varied specialties would also come in handy when the monotony of excavating set in. And from past excavations, he knew it would become monotonous. Digging in and sifting through the earth day after day became tedious.

  The surveys and preliminary work at Kanul, named for the abundance of serpents found on the stone lintels of the main temple, focused on the two sister excavations in the same site—Kaq and Rax. The Kaq excavation had exposed a palace complex, and even though the map of Rax was bare bones, it had already revealed that the settlements were dispersed farther from the palace city than was typical. Joan and Keaton would be exceptional in teasing out more details. The wealth of epigraphic records in the palace complex was promising and would be detailed by Matt. All indications pointed to the fact that there was something extensive in Kanul, possibly human remains and another unknown piece to the puzzle of the Maya.

  The team would move between Kaq and Rax as needed, assisted by the local Maya. Luca had reached out to Carlos, a friend of his, when he knew he would be overseeing the project. Carlos grew up in Petén, close to Tikal. He had met him when he was researching and documenting parasitic vectors on the Belize–Guatemala border over a decade ago.

  Carlos had taught himself English by escorting English-speaking tourists through the massive sight of Tikal, and the two men used either English or Spanish to communicate. His community had been decimated by Guatemala’s civil war. With Carlos’s help, Luca had hired other Maya to assist for the summer. Carlos had been in continual contact with Luca since last summer, sharing Mayan folklore and culture kept alive and passed down through the centuries. Luca had a binder of notes, and he was sure Ari would enjoy reading through it and adding more details. Her knowledge of the Maya was encyclopedic, and she was also an expert on the Popol Vuh, the Maya’s book of community.

  He sat up and punched his pillow, then lay back again. Yes, Luca had prepared well, but what he had not planned on was the beautiful, earthy Dr. Ariana Antony. Her curriculum vitae had been the last he had received. Although brief, it was succinct and provided him with the information he required to make an immediate offer to her to fill the last open spot on the project. She had accepted just as quickly, with a promise to get her required medical done and the corresponding paperwork sent in the following week. If she had included a headshot, he likely would have passed on her. She was evocative, her full mouth ripe for kissing. He doubted Ari was aware of her feminine power. There was an innocence to her, even when she was contrary with him. His strong interest in her was unsettling, reminding him of his younger self, the boy who had sailed his small boat on the Tyrrhenian Sea every summer, challenged with keeping his bearings in the sea’s ever-changing conditions.

  She tasted as sweet as she smelled, like honey, and her small curves, they filled his hands perfectly. Starting things in the hall. What had come over him? He, known for being in control of his emotions and his decisions, had fully given in to his desire. She was surprising and intriguing. Guarded, yet no bra and her choice in panties made him lose his head. He grinned. Lace panties, in the jungle of all places. Add that to the hot-pink thong he had retrieved in Cobán. He grew rock hard at the thought.

  Based on Ari’s confused expression and angry tone, his chances of moving any further with her were at a standstill. Why was she upset that she reported to him? She had acted stunned when Meg mentioned it. How could she not know? All CVs had been disseminated to the team members, along with photos, as well as the mission statement and a
detailed schedule.

  Where many had taken advantage to tout their pedigrees, going on and on for pages in their CVs about their research, publications, grants, and more, Ari’s had been bare bones, one page of small font, as if not to call attention to herself. In a way, he was happy she had not included a photo. He would have been haunted by it. Her face was not one easily forgotten, and the blanket of freckles covering her tawny flawless skin made her more arresting. And that glorious curly crown of hair… damn.

  What he did surmise from reading her one-pager was that she was among the youngest of the team, having skipped grades and flown through university and postgraduate school. Her intelligence jumped off the page. In person, she was complex, interesting, and alluring—all the more so because of what he sensed under the surface, a passionate, fiery woman. He had been the recipient of her quick temper at the bus stop in Cobán, responding in-kind while appreciating her unique beauty and the tension between them that was far more than her anger. It was primal lust. Maybe she had not recognized it then, but he had.

  She had held back emotionally tonight. Why? Together they were combustion. Their kissing had rapidly escalated to exploration. What would have happened if Meg and Matt had not appeared? I would like to know.