Chapter 13
Tuesday, December 23, 7 P.M.
When Lucas returned to the car, he had one key. “They’re booked. They’ve just got one room, but it has two beds.”
“That’s fine.”
“You sure?”
Laughter rumbled in her chest. “As you well know, I’m no blushing virgin.”
Her words triggered a memory of him pushing into her, watching her eyes close as she called out his name. He cleared his throat.
“Good.”
The flinty grate of his voice sparked something within her. “I’ll likely eat and pass out within the hour.”
“Sleep’s good for you.”
So is love and human contact. The words echoed as he drove to room number six.
As the headlights shone on the door, she smiled. “In ancient cultures, six is a lucky number.”
“That so?”
“Means prosperity.”
He grabbed the bags of barbecue, realizing she found the positive in most everything expect Christmas. “Here’s to prosperity.”
She burrowed into the folds of her coat as he opened the door and switched on the light. The rustic double beds were made with plain light quilts that appeared to be made by hand. A television, not the flat screen kind but the old box kind, dominated the dresser hewn from poplar. Carpets were tan and the curtains a dramatic print that reminded her of another era. “Shower’s in the back if you want to clean up.”
“That would be great.” She shrugged off her jacket and dropped it on the first bed. Her jeans fit her well, hugging her hips and narrow waist. She tugged off cowboy boots and headed, sock-footed, into the bathroom. “I promise not to take all the hot water.”
“No worries.” He might not like a cold shower, but it might be exactly what he’d end up with tonight.
He unpacked the food on a small round table just to the left of the door, setting out and opening the containers. By the time he’d shrugged off his own jacket and tossed it next to hers, the bathroom door opened and, from a fog of steam, she appeared.
She’d finger-combed her long hair and redressed in her jeans as well as a fresh white T-shirt embossed with the word ARCHAEOLOGY. Her skin was dewy and pink. “Smells delicious.”
He pulled out a chair for her and when she’d taken her seat, he sat. He watched as she smoothed out a napkin in her lap. “I’ve never seen so much food.”
“They always load me up. They know I can put away the grub.”
“You travel a lot for your job?”
“On the go a good bit of time. Though now that I’m in Austin, the pace might slow.” He unwrapped a tamale. “Promotion.”
She reached for a soda. “Big promotion?”
“Of sorts. My work with the cartels, well, it was noticed.”
She sipped her soda, clearly savoring the cool liquid on her throat. “I’m not sure what you did with the cartels.”
“In a nutshell, I closed down a major trafficking ring.” It had taken him five years. Lives of key informants had been lost, and he’d distanced himself from his family to protect them.
“That was why you were in Mexico looking for me.”
“There is a new drug supplier and some believe he’s associated with the cartels. Word was, you could read the coded message.”
“You came all that way to find me.”
“It was important the code be broken.” His level tone gave no hint of what had been a dangerous, difficult operation.
“And these messages discuss the new drug shipment.”
“Exactly.”
“What if the drugs get through?”
“They’ll bring trouble and violence.” The words carried the weight of worry and frustration.
A frown furrowed her brow. “I will remember what I figured out about the code. I will.”
His gaze held no hint of judgment. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll remember.”
A casual shrug didn’t soften her frustration. “How do you know?”
“I’ve confidence in you.”
After they’d eaten, he’d watched her rise and stretch. He imagined running his hand along the curve of her back. Her skin would be soft, supple, and he supposed she tasted sweet. “I better take my shower.”
“Sure.”
He vanished into the bathroom, knowing the shower would be cold indeed.
While Lucas showered, Marisa cleaned up their empty paper dishes, replaced the lids, and placed the leftovers in a small fridge.
When Lucas emerged ten minutes later from the bathroom, Marisa glanced up automatically. He was dressed in his jeans, and though he’d buttoned his shirt partway, some part of his lean chest was exposed to her view.
A heat, strong and demanding, shot through her body just as it had that first night in Merida. She’d tried to shove aside the sensation and blame it on . . . well, she wasn’t sure what she could blame it on. In Merida, she’d blamed it on loneliness and frustration over the dig, but now as fresh desire pumped through her veins, she searched for another logical reason why she reacted so strongly to him.
He’d protected her. Looked out for her. And desire was a natural reaction to feeling safeguarded.
“You’re staring,” he said.
She glanced up into amused eyes and realized her mouth was open. She snapped it closed. “I don’t think that I was staring.”
“You were staring.”
“I was just thinking . . .” What could she possibly say that would dig her out of this mess?
“Thinking what?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and before she thought about consequences, she said, “I was thinking about Merida and I was trying to figure a reason why I was as affected by you then as I’m now.”
“How do I make you feel?” He took a couple of steps toward her and she could see the faint mist from the shower still clinging to his skin.
“Maybe because it’s been a long time.”
“That’s the reason?” An arched brow called out her lie.
“That’s the logical explanation.”
“And you believe it?”
She shook her head and instead of answering his question, answered the one troubling her. “Lots of men have offered to be with me, but I’ve never felt the same about them as I do you.”
He took another step closer. “And how’s that?”
“I can’t quite explain it.” Her voice had grown as rough as sandpaper, and she found her thoughts skittering around her head like a mouse searching for cheese.
He captured a damp tendril of her hair and twirled it between his calloused fingers. “You have the prettiest hair. You were wearing it down the night I met you in Merida.”
“I was thinking I needed a change. I’d been in the jungle for months and I’d not had a decent shower.”
“I liked it.” He traced her jawline with his finger and again the sparks shot off in her head like it was the Fourth of July.
Impatience nipped at her heels as she longed for a deep, wet kiss. He was letting her set the pace just as he had the other night. And again, he was waiting for her to make the first move.
Emboldened by her desire, she caught his hand in hers and pulled him through the remaining inches separating them. When his chest bumped against her breasts, her nipples hardened. Too drugged with desire to care about tomorrow, she rose up on tiptoes and kissed him.
He stood still for a moment as if asking Are you sure? She answered him by wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.
Without hesitation, he hauled her against him. His muscles snapped with the intensity of a man reaching for a lifeline as he kissed her and cupped her breast in his hand. Her pulse beat with the zeal of a madwoman. She arched as a moan rumbled in her chest.
“Last chance.” His voice, ragged with desire, was barely audible.
“I know what I want.”
He backed her up to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, sagging under their weight. Reaching for her shirt, he yanked it up until her breasts lay bare to him. He suckled a nipple and she arched, saying his name as if it were a curse.
His smile was wicked. “You like?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her shirt over her head and straddled her. She smoothed her hands over his muscular thighs. They’d been in this moment before. They’d been swept away with desire that had quickly cooled and they’d parted.
No . . . they’d not parted. She’d run away. She’d fled because the intensity of what she’d felt for him had been too frightening to bear. For days she’d thought about him, wondered what he was doing, if he thought about her. But each time he’d invaded her thoughts, she’d pushed him away.
And here she was again, inviting this delicious desire and feeling. As much as she wanted to promise herself she’d act differently tomorrow, she didn’t. All she could promise was now.
Lucas raised his head and studied her face. “I can hear your mind working.”
She smoothed a hand over his broad back. “It does that sometimes. Time to turn it off.”
He cupped her face in his hands for a moment, staring deep into her eyes as if willing the fear away. He kissed her as if he didn’t want to think about tomorrow, either.
She reached for the snap of his jeans and unfastened them. The loosened waistband allowed her to slip her hands over his bare skin, and he hissed in a breath as if she’d seared him with fire.
He rose up on his knees, staring at her as he quickly ripped off his shirt and reached for the snap on her jeans. Soon they were both naked, and he entered her. The sensations overtook them both and their bodies, damp with sweat, climaxed.
Lucas collapsed against Marisa. He rolled on his side and pulled her close, nestling her bottom against him. He held on as if somehow he’d find a way to keep her from running again in the morning.