9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  “I will not apologize for kissing you. You, Ezzabella, are made for kissing. But, as a gentleman, I will be sure that does not happen again.” He backed out of the tent, grabbed his bedding and mosquito net, and walked a short distance away.

  Tino stared at the light still winking at him from across the water. He would find it easier to swim the caiman infested river and walk unarmed into a drug deal, than to sit in the boat with Isabella tomorrow. He went into the kiss with the plan to make her forget the bats and enjoy the honor of his kisses. Now drugged by her enticing mouth, he was filled with even more need to protect her.

  Disgust writhed in his mind. He’d just crossed a line he hadn’t crossed since losing his family. He now had someone other than himself to look out for. That knowledge made him vulnerable and scared the hell out of him. He’d done a lousy job protecting his family.

  Chapter 7

  Isabella spent most of the night reliving the blood-heating, body-shocking kiss she’d experienced with Tino and chastising herself for allowing it to happen. But her inquisitive nature had to dissect and look at the data from all perspectives. This was, after all, her first real lip-locking with a man. Her father and Virgil had brushed quick kisses across her lips over the years. When Virgil’s lips had touched hers she’d tingled with excitement, but those sensations were nothing compared to the explosion Tino erupted in her. His bold kiss had been full of passion. She’d expected nothing less of a Latin man but, my…she fanned her face with a hand. Reliving the kiss heated her like the jungle sun.

  She had to remember the kiss meant nothing to Tino. Even though it was a mind blowing experience for her, it was only an experiment and something that shouldn’t happen again. The only one to get hurt from allowing this to continue would be her and she never wanted to feel the anguish of one-sided love again.

  Sunlight shone into the tent. She’d heard Tino during the night, pacing, groaning, and even, she was sure, cursing. She touched her lips with her fingers. He said she was made for kissing. Happiness bubbled in her chest. No male had ever thought of her other than a skinny bookworm. The idea of being a woman who was kissable, desirable, lifted her emotional self-esteem. She plucked at her top clinging to her sweaty body. Her thoughts drifted to last night and Tino’s arousal pressed against her. Her skin became infused with a different heat. He’d thought her good for more than kissing. The evidence of his hard shaft rubbing against her thigh was proof. Heat flashed through her body; both embarrassment and excitement. Could she shake the thrill of being desired as a woman and still act normal around Tino?

  He was from a culture noted for the males being lovers. She most assuredly was not his first conquest, and he would probably treat her as he had before, with ambivalence, tolerance, and a bit of amusement.

  Isabella shook her head. She couldn’t let his kiss make her react as if he were her first crush. He had found her a good distraction, nothing more, and she would view the encounter as data for further research.

  The tarp whisked away, revealing the green canopy of the forest beyond the white gauze of her mosquito net. Isabella craned her neck and spotted Tino diligently folding the canvas.

  “We leave in five minutes.” His surly tone caught Isabella’s attention.

  His tense jawline and dull eyes suggested lack of sleep. His tone and lack of eye contact spoke of an awkwardness they hadn’t encountered before the kiss.

  Why didn’t he display the macho haughtiness she’d expected? She wadded up the mosquito net and stood, placing a hand on his arm to stall his movements. His muscles bunched under her fingers, and his gaze moved from her hand to her eyes. The apprehension and apology she witnessed in his gaze quirked the sides of her mouth.

  “Do not apologize for kissing me.”

  He started to open his mouth. She placed a finger on his warm, exciting lips.

  “I know it went farther than either one of us anticipated, but you don’t have to worry about my mooning over you like a lovesick teenager. While it was wonderful and I understand it meant nothing to you. I’ll use the data in other encounters.” Her stomach fluttered as his eyes widened then became hooded by his eyelids.

  Her intelligence told her she was just a distraction and to not let any of their encounters become emotional.

  A smug smile curved Tino’s lips, and the glint of machismo she’d witnessed so often in his eyes, flared. He leaned in and tapped a finger on her nose.

  “I may be the guide, but you could help out,” he quipped, rising to his feet and gathering their equipment.

  Relief swept through her tightly strung body. They could return to normal.

  Isabella slipped into her vest, picked up her backpack, and helped him carry their supplies to the boat.

  “Did you see anyone?” Isabella nodded toward the other side of the river.

  “No. They are either camped or traveling inland.” His tone sounded skeptical.

  “Are they hunters or locals?”

  “Either would be better than narcos—drug runners…they could be trouble.”

  The worry in his voice twisted her insides. She didn’t want to be killed or kidnapped in the jungle when she had so much more to discover.

  “Get in.” Tino held out a hand to assist her into the boat.

  Isabella grasped his fingers. The contact tingled all the way up her arm. She sat down and rubbed her hand on a pant leg. The murky river swirling around the boat presented a good distraction from the thoughts banging around in her head. Tino put a hand on her shoulder for balance as he slipped by her to the back of the boat. Heated impressions of his fingers lingered on her shoulder long after they pulled away from the bank and chugged down river.

  Shaking his charismatic hold on her would be hard, but she must. Once he dropped her off at the dig, they would most likely never meet again. Sadness pressed on her chest like a vice. He was the first male, besides Virgil, to see her as something other than a threat or a freak. Obviously, the two had hit it off or Virgil wouldn’t have asked Tino to pick her up. The idea of the two men she liked being friends settled her nerves over kissing Tino. If Virgil trusted the man, it said a lot about Tino’s character. His behavior this morning, feeling he’d overstepped his bounds with their kiss, also said a lot about her guide.

  “How did you and Virgil meet?” she asked, peering over her shoulder at Tino.

  He continued to scan the shoreline. “We have never met.”

  After all they’d been through so far, she didn’t believe Tino would cause her any harm, but the fact that Virgil had been so carefree in hiring just anyone to bring her to the dig stung a little.

  “Then how did he know you are an honest guide?”

  “He actually hired my friend who could not make the trip.” Tino studied her. “Do you still believe I might cause you harm?”

  Her ears burned at the hurt shining in his eyes. “No, I just thought since Virgil asked you, I mean your friend, oh, you know what I mean. I assumed you two had met.” Socially inept, she blundered just as she had as a teenager in the masters program at the university.

  “You and Dr. Martin have a unique relationship.” His face remained stony and bland, but his eyes flashed with—contempt? Why this emotion toward a man he’d never met?

  “Virgil is a good friend of my family, my godfather and mentor. I excelled at academics and entered the graduate program at the University of Arizona at seventeen.” She shuddered remembering the cruel comments made by some of the other students. “It isn’t easy being so young and tossed into that kind of academic atmosphere. Virgil was on staff at the time and helped me whenever I had problems with the other professors and students.”

  “Why would they bother you?”

  The wrinkles on his golden brown brow brought a smile to her lips. He clearly had never been in an academic situation.

  “They’d spent more years than I had getting into the graduate program. They were jealous and felt threatened.” Isabella wiped at the sweat trickling down her neck
as Tino edged the boat along the shoreline to their right. Caimans lazed in the sun along the bank. The knobby bone plates on their back resembled dinosaurs. One opened its long snout showing many pointed teeth. The animals looked as if they slept, but she knew, just like her colleagues, they waited for her to make a wrong move so they could gobble her up.

  She shuddered.

  “Do you still fear your colleagues?”

  Tino’s concerned voice filtered through her thoughts as he maneuvered the boat into a larger body of water. The river must have converged with the Usumacinta.

  She squared her shoulders and stared into his eyes. “There is only so much money for research and expeditions. A bad word here or rumor you aren’t conducting by university rules can get your funding pulled. I’m always scrutinized by the older members.”

  But even all the scrutiny couldn’t dampen her desire to learn more. “Researching my family tree in grade school I discovered I’m one eighth Hopi. That triggered my interest in Native American people and my curiosity about the Aztec, Inca, and Mayan cultures. During a dig in Arizona, I discovered a hieroglyphic much like those found in Central and South America. That discovery and research led me to my thesis. Peoples, tribes, from North America traveled south to Central America and traded. To carry my thesis further, I’m currently writing grants for funding to do DNA testing. Virgil said I’d get paid well to help him decipher a tablet he found at Ch’ujuña’. This trip is to keep my department open.” She waved at a family shoving a boat off from the shore. A ramshackle house peeked out between the foliage behind them.

  “We are nearing a community. See the increased activity on the water.” Tino navigated the boat out to the middle of the wide river to avoid collisions with the locals along the shore. Isabella had given him a better glimpse into her life. She idolized the doctor and felt she was a victim of her colleagues. Grad school at seventeen. He was still trying to decide what to do with his life at that age. She said very little about her family. This puzzled him. He missed his loving family every single day. He had his compadres, god-parents, his aunts, uncles, cousins, and school friends in Venezuela, but they knew nothing about his secret life as an agent. They only knew he wandered about looking for adventure by tagging wild cats. If they knew of his secret life, they could talk to the wrong people and it would put them all in danger.

  The river made a large sweeping curve to the west revealing a small village landing. Hot, mid-day sun bore down on the un-shaded river. He glanced at Isabella in her palm hat. It was good protection here on the river, but once they set foot on the jungle trails, the hat could be stashed in her pack. The high green canopy of the forest trees would filter the scorching rays of the tropical sun.

  He checked the GPS on his watch. They still had several more hours on the river, once they past this settlement, before they would trek through the jungle.

  Tino maneuvered the vessel to the shore and stood when the hull scraped the riverbank. He stepped around Isabella and over the bow of the boat. The water came mid-calf as he tugged the vessel onto shore.

  Isabella rose.

  “We will grab something to eat then continue up river. The dig site is a couple more hours by river and then a good two hours on foot.” He helped her over the bow and onto the shore. His fingers clung to her hand longer than necessary. At the end of this day he would hand her over to Dr. Martin and never see her again. He shouldn’t feel a loss. He’d only known her for two days. But in those two days he’d come to know her better than any other person who had crossed his path since his family’s demise. His hardened heart was slowly cracking and allowing this remarkable woman to seep in.

  She stood beside him as he negotiated by hand signs with a young man to hold his main supplies until he returned and to watch the boat until they were ready to continue on down the river. Satisfied that the boy wouldn’t sell his goods, Tino slung his backpack over his shoulders and motioned for Isabella to follow him. He’d barely ventured into this part of Petén before, mainly due to the communication problem. Mayans deep in the rainforest spoke the language of their ancestors and few knew Spanish. With little knowledge of their language, he had trouble making inquiries about drug shipments. That was why, until now, his assignments had been down on the southern border of Guatemala, sabotaging shipments of drugs flown into remote airstrips. The DEA had recently heard of a new route down the Usumacinta River, and he’d been ordered to see what he could find out.

  Tino found a shady spot and two wood crates to sit on at the edge of the small gathering of adobe huts roofed with palm fronds. He placed a Gallo in front of himself and a can of soda water in front of Isabella. Digging into a side pocket of his bag, he pulled out fruit, rolls, and cheese. “It is not much, but it will sustain us for the trip.”

  He handed the food to Isabella. Her gaze traveled over every inch of the community. Her desire to speak to the locals and gather more information was evident in her eyes. The few locals, watching them with curious stares, appeared harmless. If she could glean useful information without knowing their language, he wouldn’t stop her.

  “After we eat, if you wish to try and visit with the locals, I do not mind waiting.”

  She rewarded him with a wide, full smile and glittering eyes.

  “Gracias. I would love to visit with them about their ancestors and way of life.” She ate with her usual vigor. A grin tugged his lips when she pulled out the large knife she carried and cut more cheese, placing it inside another roll.

  Isabella eased her backpack onto her shoulders and stood. He took that as a signal she was ready to visit with the locals. Tino put the remaining food into his pack and shouldered it.

  “Let’s try the old man over there. He seems as curious about us as you are about them.” Tino headed toward the man, a friendly smile on his lips.

  The man watched their approach, but his gaze remained on Isabella.

  “May we speak with you?” Tino asked in Spanish, doubting the man would understand their request.

  The man shook his head and chattered in a language unfamiliar to Tino.

  Isabella stepped forward, her face glowed with excitement. She haltingly spoke back to the man.

  Tino touched her arm, drawing her attention to him. “What is he speaking?”

  “Chol Mayan.” Her grin grew.

  “You know this language?” Her intelligence surprised him once again.

  “I know bits of it. Not enough to learn what I’d like to know, but enough to impress him to let me in his home.”

  Tremors rippled up Tino’s arm when she grasped his sleeve and followed the old man through the small door of a hut.

  Entering a structure with only one exit attacked his nerves like being in a pit full of army ants. He scanned the dark interior, expecting an ambush. The light across the river last night and the report from his friend at Sayaxche about the increased traffic on the Pasion River and in this forest in the last three months had him suspicious of everyone. For all he knew, this man received compensation to keep strangers away.

  The house proved empty of other occupants, but cluttered with stone engravings of various sizes. Isabella dropped to her knees in front of a flat gray stone three feet tall and covered with carved figures. She opened her vest and drew out her small journal.

  She spoke to the man and motioned as if drawing in her journal. He nodded and smiled.

  “I’m going to be a while. I want to copy these markings and take photos. The man says when his grandfather was a small boy he found this along the river. It looks like a story about a ceremony.” Her eyes shone brightly as she returned her attention to the markings on the stone and her journal.

  Tino glanced at the man. He watched each precise mark Isabella made, oblivious to Tino’s presence. The small dark building worked on his nerves, creating anxiety.

  “I will be outside when you are done.”

  Isabella waved her hand absently.

  Tino exited the house and found a spot in the shade
at the corner of the next shack. He slipped his pack off and sat with his back against the adobe wall, drinking soda water. Two men, younger than himself, sauntered between the houses. Though their gait was unrushed, the set of their shoulders and the way they scanned the area ignited his interest. These two were the right age to be pulled into drug running. Money and adventure tempted many young men.

  The men stared at him, their hands edging toward their lower backs. Guns.

  He’d just arrived and wasn’t about to blow his cover this soon. He smiled and pulled out a Gallo. He popped the top and turned his attention to several children carrying on a frog-hopping contest in front of a house across the way.

  The two kept walking. The guns they’d started to reach for stuck out of the back of their waistbands. They were in town either to move goods or to check the area before bringing some in. Would his presence stall their actions? Or would they get rid of him and Isabella if they became suspicious? He didn’t like the latter idea. She was innocent. The quicker he got her to the dig and away from his business the better.

  His shade slowly diminished, exposing more and more of him to the hot sun and accelerating the twitching of his nerves with every minute Isabella spent in the building. He lost control of his patience and poured the beer on the ground. Tino stood, swung his pack on, and stepped around the corner.

  At the far end of the line of huts, the two men stood deep in discussion with an Anglo male in his fifties. Dirt on the man’s knees gave the impression he’d been kneeling or crawling. But he didn’t strike Tino as a victim or the groveling type. His facial expression and verbal delivery showed a man used to giving orders.

  Tino glanced at the dark interior where Isabella sought her answers, then back to the men in deep discussion. He slipped between the neighboring houses and made his way around to where he could better hear the three men. His first priority centered on stopping drug runners. Isabella was safe as long as she remained in the house with the old man.