Risky Surrender

by Robin Bielman

“What makes you say that?” He had no idea what superpower he’d want. He’d never thought about it.

  Very slowly, her eyelids lifted. “You come from a wealthy family, but do quite well on your own. You live for your job and have a great deal of notoriety, but you’d rather blend in with the crowd than be put in the spotlight. Your looks, job title, and background make that difficult.”

  Every muscle in McCall’s body pinched. She saw him.

  “So if you could, I’m betting you’d like to make yourself invisible sometimes. That’s why you were talking to a waitress on the Sea of Aesa rather than one of the socialites.”

  “You’re wrong.” He fought the urge to press his fingers to the throb on the side of his neck.

  “Don’t think so.” She pulled back her legs and sat up. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  Despite his ill at ease over her assessment, he wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. Not with further denial, but with his mouth securely attached to hers.

  “You can think what you want,” he said.

  “I will.”

  He wasn’t half as close to figuring her out. “I’m guessing your superpower would be to fly.” He did imagine she’d like to have her feet off the ground, her head in the clouds, and feel unencumbered. To be far from the lingering pain he saw in her eyes.

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “What then?” He shouldn’t care. He should get the hell off the bed and leave her alone for tonight. Every word out of her mouth drew him closer, made him more interested, when what he should be focused on was whatever stake she—or Malcolm—had in his village.

  “You didn’t guess right so I don’t have to tell you.” She pulled the pillow that was behind her head into her lap.

  “Chicken.”

  “No.”

  “Then tell me.” Why this stupid game mattered to him he had no idea. But he couldn’t deny when the topic of conversation was her, he was helpless to stop it.

  Lucy squeezed the pillow. Several seconds ticked by in silence.

  “My superpower would be whistling,” she said, her voice serious and quiet.

  Her tone stopped him from calling her bluff and joking that such a basic skill was not on the list of superpowers. “You can’t whistle?”

  She blew through her lips and nothing but air slipped out. Her pucker, though, spiraled his self-control into dangerous territory. He thought about having her breath all over him. Get off the fucking bed.

  “But it’s not that kind I’m talking about. I want to be able to do the one where you put your fingers in the corners of your mouth and whistle sharp and loud. The kind of high pitch sound that people could hear from miles away.”

  “Why?”

  Lucy tilted her head. “If I told you I’d be giving away top secret information.”

  McCall stayed silent. She hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but he took it as one.

  Chapter Four

  Lucy woke Friday morning in a panic and scrambled out of bed cursing the time. She’d never slept until eleven in her life. Damn comfortable bed. After stuffing herself with Italian food last night, she’d sunk into the soft mattress, pulled the down comforter around her, and passed out.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” she said, slipping through the cabin’s open sliding glass door. She perched herself on the edge of the Adirondack chair next to McCall’s and stretched her arms wide.

  “I didn’t know I was your alarm clock,” he said to her chest. Lucy glanced down and without a bra underneath her tank top McCall had quite the view.

  She quickly dropped her arms. “Whatever. I need to get to my car. Can you be ready in ten?”

  He smirked. “Not necessary. Your car is here.”

  “What?” She fisted her hands. If anyone had snooped through the things in her car they might discover what she was doing in Arizona.

  “It’s not the gas tank, by the way. But I didn’t think you’d appreciate me taking your car to a mechanic without your permission.” He folded the newspaper in his hands and tossed it onto the small, slatted wood table.

  “Back up a minute. How did my car get here then?”

  “I had it towed. Clay tried the gas route first. Didn’t work.”

  Lucy ground her teeth together. “How did Clay do that without a key?”

  McCall ran a hand through his dark brown hair. Eyes the color of blueberries—her favorite fruit—gleamed with misdoing. “Before the military he worked in the automobile industry.”

  “Yeah, obviously under questionable circumstances.” Lucy picked up McCall’s coffee mug and took a sip. She couldn’t resist the rich Kona smell. McCall watched her, his lips curled in amusement.

  “Finish it,” he said.

  “Thanks. So any idea what’s wrong with my car?” Her stomach knotted at the word “wrong.” She couldn’t afford to have anything wrong that cost more than a few dollars.

  “Clay said best case scenario it’s the starter or ignition switch.”

  “And the worst?” Lucy tried not to show unease by keeping her voice calm. Whatever needed to be done, she’d find a way. On her own.

  “Could be something with the engine.”

  She put down the coffee and crossed her arms. A cloud blocked the sun and a chill swept through her. Engine trouble would mean an expensive fix.

  “I can help,” McCall said, as if he could read her mind.

  “I don’t want your help.” Lucy stood. “I’ll get my stuff and if you could arrange for another tow, my car and I will be on our way.” McCall had already complicated things enough. She needed to put distance between them—the sooner, the better. She’d come to Arizona for the Tlaloc sculpture and nothing more.

  McCall put his hand on her wrist. Sparks skittered up her arm. “Hear me out. I need a favor from you, too.”

  “I don’t do favors.” Especially not for sexy heritage preservationists who had already helped more than she was comfortable with.

  His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Give me one minute.”

  “Could you please drop my hand?”

  He did. “Could you please drop the attitude?”

  She stared down at him and reminded herself she got better results with sugar than vinegar. It wouldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say. As long as she didn’t focus on his very fine mouth or bluer than blue eyes or broad shoulders or annoyingly appealing stubble, she’d be okay. She sat and looked at his knees.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I know money is tight for you.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together. “I’d like to pay to have your car fixed, but I also know you won’t accept it. So I’m proposing a deal. I’ve got an event to attend on Sunday night and I’d like you to be my date.”

  Lucy’s jaw dropped. Her gaze snapped back to his. “You’re asking me out on a date?” Tiny trembles sped through her.

  “No. I’m asking you to be my date. There’s a difference.”

  Of course there was. Mr. Calm, Cool, and Gorgeous was only proposing a business transaction.

  “I go with you and you pay to fix my car.” Not a bad idea, actually. She didn’t have extra money. He hated mingling with wealthy single women looking for a husband.

  He unclasped his hands and leaned back. “Exactly.”

  The chances of her car being fixed in half a day were slim so she’d probably need to wait until Monday to get it back anyway. A slight problem for her plans, but she could work around it.

  “Does this deal include continued room accommodations?” Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that.

  His nod and smile worked together so damn nicely that she regretted her inquiry. She should have just said no thank you. She’d scraped by for years and managed just fine. “You in?” he asked.

  She nodded. Dammit. Why did she feel like she’d just walked into a trap?

  She ran her hands down her bare legs. “Wait. What kind of event is this?”
>
  His gaze followed her movement. “Black tie.”

  She turned her attention to the grooves between the wood planks of the deck. The way he watched her triggered whirls of pleasure low in her stomach that made it difficult to think straight.

  Black tie? Her wits returned.

  “Can’t do it. I don’t have a dress.” She got up, grateful for the excuse to decline the deal. “I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.” Besides not having the proper attire, she’d never been to a formal affair and had no desire to start now.

  McCall followed her into the cabin. “Look in your closet.”

  “Why?” She didn’t bother turning around. Then silently scolded herself. The fewer questions she asked, the quicker she’d be on her way to sneak back into the Aztec village.

  “Please.” The sincerity in his voice jabbed her in the heart, nudging her toward the closet.

  “Fine.” Lucy opened the closet door and gasped. Three dresses hung inside. No, not dresses. Gowns. Beautiful, floor length gowns. She spun around.

  McCall leaned against the large open doorway, his arms crossed, a smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows.

  She marched right over to him and poked his chest, knocking him off balance. Anger ran through her veins. “I am not some bimbo you can buy and dress up to suit your needs. How the hell did you do this? And how dare you presume I’d go along with it.” She pushed him again, with both hands this time.

  He caught her by the wrists and brought her right up against his royal blue T-shirt. The soft cotton and his shower fresh scent took some wind out of her irritation.

  “That isn’t at all what I think, Lucy.”

  God, she barely knew him, but she knew his intentions weren’t as she’d accused. She’d pushed him away as if that could make him take back his kindness. Lucy didn’t know how to handle herself on his playing field.

  “I thought to make things easier for you,” he said.

  Easy? Nothing about McCall was easy. “You thought wrong.” She told herself to step back, only she didn’t. Because once again she stood eye level with the kind of mouth that put all other mouths to shame.

  “Look, we both need something and we can give it to each other. Dress up for one night and save me from having to make small talk and fend off unwanted advances.”

  Somehow he made cocky sound endearing. Lucy had seen the women on the Star of Aesa eye him like a winning lottery ticket and that had to get old.

  “If I do this, it has nothing to do with saving your ass.” And everything to do with getting information about his site that would help her find her sculpture.

  “Of course not.”

  Let him think it was to save her own ass, which was the truth. She was incapable of saving anyone else. Otherwise Matt and her dad would still be here.

  Memories of their accident bombarded her and she stumbled away from McCall. Shit. Tears stung the back of her eyes. Breathing suddenly required effort.

  She didn’t do this in front of strangers. She didn’t do it in front of anyone.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Fine.” She gave him her back. “Let’s set this plan in motion.”

  “You sure?” His warm breath caressed the back of her neck, telling her he’d stepped closer.

  One foot in front of the other. She’d repeated that dozens of times over the past two years. “Positive.” She stepped away from him, back to her own room.

  A couple hours later, Lucy sat in McCall’s truck, her body a tight knot of tension, her gaze unfocused as they drove away from the mechanic’s shop. She’d gotten everything of importance out of her car before it was towed, but she still hated the idea of leaving her belongings with a stranger for the weekend.

  When they reached the highway Lucy realized she had no idea where they were headed.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I’ve got an appointment and thought I’d take you along.”

  Her head snapped to the left. McCall’s easy tone of voice lit a fuse inside her. “Just because you’re in the driver’s seat does not mean you’re in charge of me. I don’t plan on being attached to your hip all weekend. I’ve got things to do, too.”

  He slid her a carefree, crooked smile. “I think you’ll enjoy this.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you’re good at finding things.”

  Lucy sat up taller. “I’m great at finding things.”

  “So what is it you hope to find in my village?” His eyes were on the road, one hand wrapped casually around the steering wheel.

  His question got a smile out of her. He could keep trying, but she’d never tell him about the Tlaloc sculpture. “What do you need help finding today?”

  “I don’t need help. I’m taking a group of kids geocaching.” He exited the freeway and headed towards the mountains.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “It’s a treasure hunting game that uses GPS coordinates to lead us to a hidden cache. There’s over a million caches buried all over the world. Quadruple that amount and you’ve got your participants. A big percentage of that is kids.” He turned his head. Lines etched the corner of his eyes, undoubtedly from long hours in the sun and smiling too much. He had a killer smile. “Whenever I’m at a project site and there’s a geocache nearby, I round up some local kids and take them on a hunt. It’s amazing to see the look on their faces when we locate the cache and open it up.”

  Every muscle in Lucy’s body went languid, yet her body stirred with the kind of tension that came from one thing: desire. Hearing that McCall did his own version of finding objects of value and did it with children, stirred up long buried feelings.

  One of the last arguments she’d had with Matt had been over settling down and starting a family. Lucy wanted children, but Matt didn’t. He was content with the way things were. It hurt like hell, but made perfect sense. Matt’s free spirit and insatiable desire for adventure were why she’d fallen for him in the first place. That and her father had adored him. She’d met Matt in their freshman archeology class, brought him home to meet her dad, and that was that.

  “What have you found so far?” she asked, a happier memory edging out thoughts of Matt. When she was a child her dad had made it a birthday tradition to draw a treasure map for her to follow around their small house. The maps got a little harder every year, but the treasure was always the same—a Pez dispenser.

  “Coins, buttons, small toys, books.” He parked the car in a patch of dirt at the base of a mountain. A wood sign said Riverback Trail.

  “I wonder what we’ll find today.” Lucy slipped out of the truck and met McCall at the rear bumper. “What?”

  McCall slid on his sunglasses, but not before Lucy caught a glimpse of something in his sea blue eyes. Something like interest or fascination maybe. “You sound excited about it.”

  “Maybe I am.” If she was stuck with McCall she might as well make the best of it. Not that being with him was any real hardship. She was glad he couldn’t see her eyes through her Ray Bans because his T-shirt clung to his chest and abs in a way that made her stomach hot. His cargo shorts hung just right on his narrow hips. Add in the afternoon sun and cloudless sky as a backdrop and her body might catch fire if she paid him any more attention. Pump him for information on the Aztec site, nothing else.

  “Good. Come on. I see our group from the Boys & Girls Club. For some of them, it’s their first time hiking.”

  He picked up her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and led her to the kids. Flutters hovered near the pit of her stomach.

  But she could not let this adventure mean more than it should.

  …

  McCall led Lucy and the six pre-teen boys and girls up the winding mountain trail with one eye on the kids and one eye on her. Christ, he could look at her all day. Right now her pillowy lips were slightly parted, and fuck if he didn’t want to part them further and explore her mouth with his.

  He wasn’
t sure if her car trouble was a blessing or curse. Either way, it allowed him to keep an eye on her for the next few days. He didn’t trust her motives where his village was concerned, but then his motives weren’t completely innocent either.

  By keeping her close, he hoped to figure out her interest in the Aztec village and do whatever necessary to protect it. He didn’t believe her claim that she wasn’t working for Malcolm. There’s no way Malcolm would let someone like her go.

  McCall had talked to Connor this morning hoping to get an update on the research he’d asked him to do. His VP hadn’t come up with much of anything regarding historical artifacts being buried in the southwest. He had mentioned a statue found back in the sixties in New Mexico that scholars believed was a Tlaloc sculpture—the god of rain, fertility, and water. The statue turned out to be a female deity, but since then there had been rumors of a gold Tlaloc object somewhere in the western US.

  If that’s what Lucy was looking for and it was in his village, he’d do whatever he had to, to preserve his site.

  “We almost there?” Lucy asked, disrupting his thoughts. She lifted her sunglasses off her nose and ran a few fingers across her glistening cheekbones.

  McCall paused to wipe the sweaty sting from one eye and glance at his phone. The kids’ cheeks were red, their hair matted around their foreheads. “Looks like it. You guys doing okay? Let’s take a water break.”

  The kids nodded and guzzled from their water bottles. There were several levels of difficulty when geocaching and this was one of the easiest. From McCall’s estimate, they’d stumble upon the treasure in five to ten minutes.

  “So who here thinks I should take over the lead?” Lucy asked, the bait in her voice appealing on a level McCall had never experienced before. No one took control from him.

  Every hand went up but his. “I do,” times six sounded. It was no surprise. Lucy had charmed his group from the second she’d introduced herself. She’d led them in song, complimented their stamina, and related to their adolescence with ease.

  “Go for it,” he said, surprised at how easy he handed her the reins. He gave her his cell with the coordinates.

  A smile enticing enough to lure a cat to water spread across her beautiful face. “Let’s go, then.”