Special Investigations Agency: Primordial

by Denise A. Agnew

  He must have seen her struggle to hold back tears, for his face grew serious and he reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek in a comforting gesture. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m even going to give you time before I ask you what the hell got into you wandering out here. And don’t tell me you weren’t lost.”

  She heard the edge in his voice and recognized the anger behind it. “No, I want to tell you now. I was lost, but I…I don’t know how I got here.”

  Incredulousness narrowed his eyes as he frowned. “What?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.” All her defenses seemed to waver under the weight of what happened, but she abhorred showing weakness. She sniffed and forced her tears to dry up. She expected him to look at her like she’d lost every marble. “I went out to the pool and happened to look into this ugly ring and all of a sudden I felt dizzy and then this incredible pull to walk toward the jungle. I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t remember a thing until I got here.”

  His brow creased in concentration. “You mean you had amnesia from the time you looked into the ring until you arrived in this spot?”

  “Essentially, yes.” She sighed. “Look, I know how crazy this sounds, but that’s what happened. When I got here I wasn’t sure how far I’d walked, but I could tell by the sun that it had been a long time.”

  He looked at the big watch on his wrist. “I’ll say. Try four hours.”

  She swallowed hard as reality punched hard in the gut. “That’s even longer than I thought. How far did I walk?”

  “Not as far as you would think. About seven miles.”

  She gave a half-hearted laugh. “In sandals. No wonder my feet ache. But…but that still doesn’t make sense. I could have walked more than seven miles in four hours.”

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily. Think about where you are. You’re in a thick jungle and wearing unsuitable clothing and shoes. You didn’t have a machete to clear the way and the path from the house doesn’t go in a straight line. It’s not like you had a straight shot and no impediments. By the way, I crossed a swollen creek across a log on the way here. Unless you waded into the water, you had to cross that log. And it’s a few feet high above the water.”

  “A few feet?”

  “Try six feet high. The creek is probably around four feet deep. More a river than a creek.”

  Trembling started in her stomach, a weird nervousness that she couldn’t shake. What could she say? Tell him again she couldn’t remember crossing any log over a stream?

  Instead she asked, “Then the path at Rancho La Paz points to here eventually?”

  “Yes and no. Some of the trail disappears into the undergrowth so no one could follow it directly to here without getting lost. Unless they already knew the way here.”

  Oh, so that’s how it was. He thinks I must know the way.

  She chuckled again, amazed at the incredible ridiculousness of her tale. Of course no sane person would believe her.

  Grim and tight-lipped, he stared. She saw disbelief warring with another unknown emotion on his face. “Forgive me if I don’t think this is funny, Keira. You left without saying a word to anyone where you were going—”

  “What?” Anger erupted. “I just told you, I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I was drawn here. I don’t even remember the walk. It was like I was a zombie.”

  If she expected understanding, she didn’t get it. His expression turned grimmer. “Excuse me if I have a difficult time believing you. It sounds like some ridiculous crap made up in desperation because you came out here for another reason you don’t want known.”

  Simmering like a ready to boil over pot, she swallowed hard and tried to keep from yelling. She never screamed, but this man tempted her beyond reason. “Okay, why do you think I came out here? What person in their right mind would tramp out here in sandals and a dress and without supplies and protection? I don’t know this jungle and from everything I’ve heard it’s a dangerous place. I’ve already seen creatures I don’t want to meet again in a million years. Including the jaguar and that weird man.”

  His frown eased a little. “I saw the jaguar. Damn it, Keira, you could have been killed.”

  The hoarse note in his deep voice sounded scared. She considered the possibility for a moment and then brushed it aside. This man would never worry about her; she was a liability, along for the window dressing and to play a part in a precarious game.

  He sighed. “So you say you looked into this ring and it enticed you for no reason to go into the jungle. Why?”

  “If I knew, don’t you think I’d tell you?”

  Skepticism drew tough lines into his face. His dark hair, still wet from the storm, curled and waved around his head in a tantalizing, sexy flow that short-circuited her anger with him for a moment. His eyes, dark and intense, held mysteries she couldn’t phantom and yet wanted to know.

  He shook his head. “None of this makes sense. You’re saying something paranormal happened to you.”

  Well, there. He’d said it. The one thing she didn’t want to think about and hadn’t considered a possibility in her life until now. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  He scowled. “Come on, you can’t believe that. You’re a scientist.”

  What could she say? “You pegged that right. I shouldn’t believe this. But I can’t pretend it didn’t happen to me.”

  “You’re a damned lucky woman. Anything could have happened in those miles you walked. Spiders, deadly snakes, rebels.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Yes, luck followed her in this case, but it still made no sense. “That doesn’t explain how I got here or why this…” She didn’t dare gaze at the ring. Instead she slipped it off her finger and laid it aside. “There. No chance of me looking into this thing again and disappearing into the wilderness. I don’t want to wear it.”

  “You have to wear it. Think about it. A gift from a very wealthy, powerful, dangerous man.”

  His bossy tone ticked her off and she struggled with a desire to tell him where to go once and for all. Then she saw the logic behind his insistence. She shouldn’t defy Haan, not knowing what she did about the man…the horror he could inflict. A shuddering breath went through her and she closed her eyes. Grandfather had found out the hard way.

  “Still cold?” Gentleness laced his tone, a complete difference from a moment ago.

  “No. I-I was just thinking about what Haan might do if I defy him.”

  “Let’s do everything we can to keep on his good side until we find La Pasion. Keira, you know you can trust me. If something else is going on here you think you can’t tell me, I need to know before this gets any worse.”

  Her eyes snapped open and met his probing gaze. God, the man had such deep eyes, so depthless and intriguing. Since she’d met him she wanted to know what really resided in his thoughts and his soul. His heart.

  No, she couldn’t invade his secrets. That would mean intimacy, desire, an understanding she could never have with this man.

  Still, she couldn’t look away, a woman caught in a snake’s mesmerism. “How can I trust you? You think I’m up to something illegal and have made no compunction about telling me so. Explain to me how that’s supposed to engender a desire to open up to you? Would you trust a woman you don’t know well with your secrets?”

  She had him there. Seeing the change, the semi-resignation on his face almost gave her relief.

  “All right,” he said. “What do you want to know about me? Ask me anything.”

  Blindsided by the request, she didn’t speak. What do I want to know about him? Do I even care?

  “Start from the beginning,” she said after a long pause.

  His silence stretched longer and Keira thought maybe he’d change his mind and keep clammed up. Instead he nodded. “We’ve got nothing else better to do. This rain isn’t letting up soon. And we’re not trekking back at night.”

  She hadn’t thought about that for a few minutes; perhaps she’d denied that trut
h. She would have to lie in this tent, with Zane stark naked and only inches away.

  “Go on,” she said.

  He rolled onto his back, sparing her the penetrating gaze. “You already know I’m thirty-three and a career agent with the SIA. Vital stats, I have black hair and black eyes. I’m six-feet-four inches. I work out, ski, play tennis, and I’m an excellent marksman.”

  “Okay, but that’s not personal enough.”

  He gave his trademark male grunt. “Nope. Not until you tell me something about yourself.”

  Oh no. No. She didn’t want to tell him a damned thing. But if she wanted to understand who she dealt with, she’d have to give a little. “I’m five-feet-six inches tall and have brown eyes and light brown hair. I’m a native of San Francisco and live there part of the year. The rest of the year I live in London.”

  “That’s all stuff I know. Give me more.”

  “Your turn.”

  He scrubbed one hand over the growing five o’clock shadow on his chin. The shadow on his skin intrigued her. If she didn’t watch it she would be studying his every movement instead of listening to what he said.

  “I like fine gourmet food, country and heavy metal music. My favorite reading material is horror novels. I was born in the Napa Valley of California and currently live in Denver, Colorado.”

  When he paused for breath she took in his rundown and found some of the stats surprising. “That’s all rather impressive. There aren’t too many people I know that like country music and heavy metal.”

  He flashed her one grin before he looked at the tent ceiling again. “Gee, and here I thought you were talking about my degrees. Your turn.”

  She shifted in the sleeping bag, feeling a little less intimidated by his presence, but not much. “I love jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters. Dressing up makes me a little nervous.”

  He laughed softly. “Oh, yeah? Could have fooled me with the way you looked the other night at the restaurant.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat. “The way I looked?”

  “Like a damned goddess sent to torment me.” His voice went a little rough, a husky nuance he couldn’t hold back.

  What could she say to that? Somehow Keira found her voice as heat filled her face. “That wasn’t my intention.” She moved on before he could say more. “Tell me something more personal about you.”

  He turned his head and pinned her with those obsidian eyes. “Such as?”

  “About your family.”

  “I’ve got a great set of parents. Dad and his two brothers own Spinella Wineries in Napa Valley. I have two younger siblings, Mira and Trevor, and they both work in family business.”

  “Now that’s interesting. Didn’t your father want you to work in the family business?”

  “He did, but when I told him I wanted to go into some form of criminal justice instead, he gave me his full support. My mother supported my decision, too.”

  Sharp envy filled her. “I wish I could say the same about my parents.”

  Zane shifted again, turning onto his right side. Oh great. Now his chest is staring me in the face again. Despite everything she itched to touch him, learn the contours of his body the way she had in the stairwell at the restaurant last night. She could lose herself in his body and forget being in Puerto Azul in the middle of a perilous jungle.

  “They didn’t want you to be an archaeologist?” he asked.

  She gave a soft snort. “Mom was…is a little old-fashioned. She thinks women should stay home and take care of babies.”

  One of his eyebrows twitched up. “What about your dad?”

  “He’s about the same, I’m afraid.”

  One corner of his sinful mouth turned up. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you did what you wanted?”

  She tossed a critical glance his way. “At a young age I realized if I didn’t follow my heart, I was doomed to failure.”

  “It’s unusual that at a young age you realized that.”

  She smiled, pithy words coming to her lips easily. “I’m unusual.”

  His noncommittal grunt said everything. He agreed with her, all right. She didn’t know whether to like or dislike his agreement.

  “I had my grandfather’s approval.” She closed her eyes again, not wanting to get into her family’s long history. “He encouraged me, no matter what.”

  “You have any other family?”

  “My parents adopted three children after me when they discovered they couldn’t have any more.” She shrugged. “As a teen I was…I felt extreme jealousy that their attention transferred to the others. They sort of forgot me.” For a strange reason she couldn’t understand, tears welled in her eyes. “Catrina is twenty-eight, Anita twenty-five. They just adopted Albert ten years ago. He’s fifteen.”

  “They wanted a big family,” he said softly.

  “Yes.” She swallowed hard as the lump in her throat threatened to strangle her. “My relationship with my parents is complicated.”

  “I sense enough angst to fill a gymnasium.”

  “That’s about the size of it.”

  She saw new understanding and sympathy enter his gaze as he looked at her. “If your parents were set against you being an archaeologist, how did you manage it?”

  “I inherited my father’s stubbornness I guess. I was always trying to prove them wrong. There was another influence in my life that helped. Mrs. Annie Bruswick.”

  She paused, the lump in her throat growing tighter by the minute. She didn’t understand why talking about her family right now made her weepy, but the desire to burst out crying became almost overwhelming.

  Zane reached out and brushed his finger over her arm, a small gesture that spoke volumes. Almost as if he wanted to give her comfort and yet didn’t know how to say it. She absorbed that impression, drinking in the joy his touch brought.

  “Who is Annie Bruswick?”

  “An older black woman who was my second grade teacher. She got around my low self-esteem and helped me to see I could do anything I wanted.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “In some ways she was more a parent to me than my own mother. Annie loved children and it showed. All the kids in class responded to her. She was such a dignified but loving person. She died five years ago.”

  When she turned her head to glance at him again, genuine concern covered his face, a compassion she hadn’t expected. “I’m sorry. You must miss her.”

  Keira nodded. “I do. She was a wonderful woman.” His surprising openness and gentleness pushed her to ask, “Was there someone special that influenced you?”

  “Yeah. My father and my uncles Frank and Joshua. They’re great guys. I learned a ton from all three of them growing up.” When he smiled she saw the warmth glowing deep in his eyes for his relatives. “My work has been demanding the last few years so I don’t see them as much as I’d like. I have Christmas off this year, as long as you and I can crack this mission.”

  Deep in her heart she more than envied him that familial feeling, the genuine love Keira felt she missed with her mother, father and adopted siblings.

  Silence came down over the tent, punctuated by the relentless rain. She wished for sleep to take her away from the continual hum of awareness she felt as he lay so close.

  Her gaze caught on the swirling hairs on his chest and the taut curves of his pecs. God, no man could look this gorgeous and be real. Maybe she’d tramped into the jungle, been bitten by a snake or horrible insect and now she lay in a stupor daydreaming about being with Zane. Nothing else explained this wild situation.

  She had to talk before the silence grew to epic proportions. “Enough of this maudlin family stuff. Tell me more about how we’re going to get La Pasion.”

  “Very carefully.”

  “How are we going to search Haan’s estate?”

  “By slight of hand. We have free run of the place on our wedding night. Once we’re married I plan to take full advantage of it. Haan said we could use any room in the house. So if we have to make o
ut like we’re fucking in every room as sort of a kinky lovefest, that’s what we’ll do.” He snapped his fingers. “Damn, that’s good. I like that idea.”

  His blunt description and enthusiasm for the plan caught her off guard. Zane cracked a cocky smile. Sexual interest burned in his eyes for a flash fire second. She saw it, felt it cascade through her breasts, her stomach, her feminine secrets.

  “That’s your plan?” she asked, her voice cracking a little.

  His sinful grin faded slightly. “You got any better ideas?”

  “No, but you think telling him you want to have sex in all his rooms is going to work?”

  His grin widened, this time more self-assurance than sexual. “Oh yeah. In case you didn’t know, Haan is into kink. He’s into bondage and his basement has a bondage table. Haan isn’t into consensual sexual adventures, but the type where one person in the partnership isn’t willing.”

  She cringed inwardly, her suspicions about Haan roaring up and slapping her in the face. “You’re not thinking we’d go into his basement to—” She cut herself off as Zane nodded and a wider smile curved his lips. “You are.”

  “Don’t worry.” Zane’s grin appeared unapologetic. “You’re a good actress, aren’t you?”

  Heat warmed her face as she remembered the kisses and the dancing she’d shared with him. “I’m not that confident about my acting abilities. What’s that have to do with anything?”

  “There are probably cameras in several places in the house. I checked our room for cameras, too, and didn’t find any, but we have to assume I’ll be able to find other devices in the house while we’re searching.”

  She frowned, determined to clarify. “How much acting are we talking about here?”

  “Enough to convince Haan we’re going at it hot and heavy.”

  “But that’s…” She could hardly get the words out as the implication hit her. “We’ll have to…”