9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  His comment started her thoughts bounding. What didn’t he want heard? Was he after all an organ trafficker? Every bone in her body said to trust him. It was her head that balked.

  At her tent, he relieved her of her bag and tossed it into the tent.

  “Why do we have to go in the jungle?” She crossed her arms to take a firm stand.

  Tino faced her. “Are you afraid of going into the jungle in the dark?”

  “No.”

  He grasped her hands, unfolding her arms. “Then it is me you fear.” He sighed deeply and tsked. “If I had wished to rob you of your valuables or organs I would have done so before showing up at this dig with you. Come.” He dropped one hand and led her past her tent, and his, straight into the jungle. The ground cover was denser on the edge of the clearing as if protecting the tell where the Mayan chambers had been hidden for so many years.

  After several minutes of pushing through vines and dodging trees, he drew her to sit on a downed tree.

  “Why all this cloak and dagger stuff? The people at the dig are my friends.” Her hand remained clasped in Tino’s. His knees pressed against hers. The heat of the contact crept up her leg and ignited a slow burn in her pelvic region. She squirmed. Why did this man affect her this way?

  “Not everyone at the dig is your friend. Or anyone’s friend.” Tino squeezed her hands. “Dr. Martin has asked me to stay at the dig until he can get men in to keep watch at night.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would Virgil need guards? Are the artifacts valuable?”

  “I overheard Walsh and Dr. Martin arguing. The narcos, drug traffickers, want Dr. Martin to pay them to leave him alone. Your friend does not believe in paying extortion.”

  She’d never heard of this before. But then, she’d never worked a dig anywhere other than the U.S. “That sounds like Virgil.” She peered through the dark, trying to see Tino’s face. “What will happen?”

  “The narcos could attempt to take some of the artifacts as payment. Walsh said they could turn the government against the dig and anyone who is working here.”

  “Will they resort to violence?” Her body shivered at the thought.

  “Not at first, but who knows.” His arms wrapped around her, drawing her against his strength. Mosquitoes buzzed close to her ear.

  Tino released her and something drifted down over her head, flowing around her body. She ran her hands over the material. A mosquito net.

  “How?”

  “I figured after you showered you would not have any repellant on.” He sniffed. “You smell much better than DEET.”

  The fact that he noticed and liked her spicy scent tickled her insides. “Thank you. You don’t smell half bad yourself.” A clean masculine scent had delighted her senses the minute he escorted her from the artifact tent.

  “I will go to the settlement tomorrow to gather the rest of my gear. With Dr. Martin asking me to remain at the dig, I will make my base camp here.” He placed a hand on either side of her face. “I want you to be careful. Do not go into the jungle and stay close to the dig.”

  “Are you that fearful of the narcos?” She didn’t like the idea of his traveling alone if the drug traffickers were that dangerous.

  He drew her up, brushing his lips against hers and sending her thoughts to much pleasanter things.

  “I am only fearful for you.” His words vibrated against her mouth.

  He deepened the kiss, seducing her tongue, taking her breath, and dismissing anything other than the pleasure of his touch.

  His lips hovered over hers. “Promise me you will stay in the compound.”

  His voice drifted in and out of her dazed state. She nodded and leaned closer for another kiss.

  He shifted, refusing her overture. His lips hovered over hers. “Say it.”

  Her mouth, plump and tingling from his kisses, grieved for more. “What? Say what?”

  “That you will stay in the camp while I am gone.”

  “I’ll stay.” She craved his mouth upon hers. The intensity of her need both shocked and exhilarated. But she wouldn’t beg even though her body was pleading with her mind.

  He chuckled and seduced her mouth, numbing her body, lighting her mind with sparks, and heating her blood.

  His hands slid down her neck, thumbs pressing slighting under her jaw, directing her head to another angle. The mating of their tongues fired shock waves to her toes. Her hands kneaded the pectorals underneath his shirt. She ached to touch his skin. Sliding her fingers between the buttons, she edged her finger tips in to touch the sprinkling of hair on his chest and feel the heat of his skin.

  He growled and ripped his mouth from hers, sucking and dropping kisses down her neck as his hands kneaded her sides and back.

  Sensations exploded, giving way to laughter and moans of pleasure. She’d never felt so liberated.

  “Ezzabella, you are more enticing than any woman I have ever held in my arms.”

  Tino’s declaration stunned her. She pulled back, aching to remain in his arms but needing to know what he meant. “You’ve been in the jungle a long time. You’re needy.” She had to justify his declaration because to believe he meant it could leave her heartbroken.

  “No. It is true. I have had many women cross my path. And you are completely different—innocent and smart. The timing is all wrong. But believe me—you are special and I promise I will keep you safe.”

  Safe? She opened her mouth to ask what he meant—

  The fierce cry of a howler monkey pierced the air, tingling her neck hairs. Isabella gripped Tino tighter.

  “We must get back to the compound before the others rise and see us coming out of the jungle.” He kissed her nose. “It would be bad for your reputation.”

  The netting slithered up her body, taking with it the magic of the moments they kissed and allowing the threat of reality to seep in.

  “You’ll be careful tomorrow, I mean today, going to the settlement?” The thought of harm coming to Tino when she still had so much to learn about him chilled her body.

  “I will return before dark. Do not worry.” Tino grasped Isabella’s hand. He had warned her, and now he had to trust she would keep herself safe. “Stay in the compound and tell no one about our talk. Panic would be a bad thing. If the others try to leave the jungle in a hurry they could lose their lives.”

  She yanked on his hand.

  He stopped and peered through the growing daylight at her worried face.

  “Do you truly believe the danger is that real?” Her whispered words, laced with fear, stabbed at his conscience.

  “There is always a threat in the jungle. That the narcos are so near doubles the danger.” His arms ached to draw her close and promise to keep her safe, but he couldn’t. He’d gone too far this night with their intimacy. It would be best for them both if he went to the settlement and set out through the jungle tracking the narcos he was paid to find. But that wouldn’t keep the people of the dig safe.

  “Come, you must sneak into your tent from the back.” He tugged on the hand he still held, drawing her along the path.

  “Why must I sneak in the back? I’m a grown woman and can come and go as I please. They’ll see I’ve been working in the artifact tent.”

  A few more meters and they’d step into the open behind his tent. He stopped, releasing her hand. “You are right. Continue on alone and do whatever you wish.”

  Her eyes searched his face. “I’ve injured your pride, haven’t I?”

  She had crushed his pride, but he wouldn’t let her know. He puffed his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Mi pichón, you have not wounded my pride. I was merely protecting you. But I have learned you do not need protecting. Take care.” He waved her on even as his gut told him he wouldn’t rest until she was safely back in the United States.

  Isabella’s full lips opened as she studied him, her head canted to one side.

  His body burned to drag her against him and savor those enchanting lips again, but his mind, though
low on sleep, screamed at him to get away and do his job.

  Tino stepped into the tangle of foliage and made his way perpendicular to her. Minutes passed before he heard the rustle of Isabella moving toward the compound. He followed at a distance, peeking around a tree as she entered the open area. Her feet stalled, and she spun back to the forest, her eyes searching.

  She squared her shoulders and marched to the opening of her tent, ducking inside.

  Ten minutes later, Tino sauntered out of the forest to his tent and emptied everything but his revolver, rifle, ammunition, binoculars, and water out of his pack. He strapped the pack on and headed in search of Martin.

  Dr. Martin and several others were in the mess tent. Some of the tension that pulled at his muscles and throbbed in his head subsided when he didn’t see Isabella in the tent. He didn’t need her looking doe-eyed at him. He’d been stupid to drag her into the jungle and kiss her. And completely out of control. He grimaced. The kissing had not been part of his plan. He had wanted to warn her. Augustino, you can lie to Isabella and everyone else but not to yourself.

  He shrugged out of his pack and wiped a hand across his face. Kissing had crossed his mind when he’d told her he would come get her last night. It had also been on his mind as he watched her meticulously clean the stone and trace the carvings with her fingers. But it had to stop. To continue would not be good for him or her.

  “Guide, I’m surprised to see you still here.”

  Walsh’s booming voice and condescending nature grated on Tino’s nerves.

  “Rupert, I’ve asked him to stay until you follow through.” Martin indicated a seat across from him.

  Anger flared in Walsh’s eyes and his mouth formed a tight-lipped line. The Englishman wasn’t happy with the information. Why didn’t he want someone not engrossed in the dig hanging around? Perhaps because they would notice his absences?

  Tino took the offered spot on the bench and studied the people seated at the tables. The woman who followed Martin around like a puppy sat beside him, Walsh and two of his British helpers, along with Isabella’s friend and another woman sat at an adjacent table. It was obvious by their conversations and casualness Martin hadn’t told any of them about the narcos’s threats. Interesting.

  “I will go to the settlement today to bring back the rest of my supplies,” Tino said, leaning back as the cook placed a steaming plate of scrambled eggs and fruit in front of him. “Gracias.”

  “I would think a tracker and guide wouldn’t need that many supplies. What could you possibly need that we don’t have here?” Walsh narrowed his eyes, studying him.

  “I do not wish to impose. I was paid only to bring Dr. Mumphrey, no? After today, I will eat my own rations.” Tino dug into the eggs. The creamy texture and flavor surpassed the dried food he would be eating to stay undercover.

  “That’s so admirable.” Walsh rolled his eyes. “I’d think one of your bloody lot would jump at the chance to siphon off others.”

  Tino swallowed the fury gurgling in his throat. “You, Professor Walsh, do not know the likes of me.” Rage curled in his gut. How did this pompous pendejo deal with narcos when he believed himself so superior to others?

  “Walsh, back off.” Martin glared at the British professor. “Guide, you’re welcome to eat in the mess tent any time you want and use the facilities. It’s the least I can do.” He stopped short of saying any more.

  Tino glanced round the table. No one appeared offended by Walsh or surprised by Martin. Apparently Walsh’s rudeness was as normal as Martin’s hospitality. He’d take great pride in knocking the British professor down a notch a two. Martin was a mystery, asking for help, but refusing to tell anyone they were in danger.

  Both men required his surveillance: Walsh to lead him to the narcos and Martin to decipher his relationship with Isabella.

  Chapter 11

  The afternoon heat and lack of sleep caught up to Isabella. Her head bobbed on her shoulders and her sight blurred as she brushed at another line of characters on the stone. Half the story stood out in stark relief above the still dirt-encrusted lower half of the tablet. The intricate carvings, many she knew, told a story of a moon and how—she couldn’t decipher the name—traveled a great distance to hold the moon and discover its power.

  “Take a break.” Virgil’s voice broke into her semi-consciousness.

  “Yes. I do need one. I worked on this late last night and early this morning.” Isabella set the tools aside and allowed Virgil to help her stand. She wobbled a moment, dizziness and fatigue joining forces. Virgil caught her in his arms. Arms she’d known for years; yet, they felt more foreign to her than Tino’s strong, youthful arms.

  Isabella shifted out of Virgil’s embrace as Jaycee lugged in a bucket of cleaned artifacts. The student had wandered in and out all morning, taking note of everything Isabella did.

  “Tell me what you’ve discovered so far.” Virgil studied the stone.

  Isabella squatted slowly and bounced twice to stretch the calf muscles bunching in protest. Tracing a carved indention with the pad of her finger, she said, “This is the symbol of the moon. The story on this stone is about this moon and the people who came from a great distance to hold its power.” She glanced up at Virgil. “Ch’ujuña means moon in Chol. I’m not sure how it all fits together. I’m going to take a nap then check my reference notes.” Her gaze returned to the carvings, her mind trying to remember where she’d seen these before and what they meant. “I may need to contact the university for more information, too.”

  “I’m sure that guide would be willing to take you back to Saxyache to contact your school.”

  Jaycee’s haughty intonation referring to ‘that guide’ dug into Isabella’s skin like a thorn.

  “I’m sure Tino would be more than willing. I’d enjoy his company.” Isabella rose slowly to avoid another dizzy spell. “If I’m not up by dinner, wake me.” She’d start sleeping during the heat of the day and work at night. Even with both flaps open on the tent there was poor ventilation. The moist, hot air pressed around her like a smothering blanket, making it hard to breathe and baking her body.

  “I will. Sleep well.” He leaned toward her, his lips pursed to buzz her cheek. Jaycee’s loud throat clearing stopped him short.

  Isabella was thankful Jaycee’s jealousy stopped Virgil from kissing her. His unusual amorous attentions had become creepy. She didn’t remember him always reaching for her or attempting to kiss her. His new behavior caused a nauseous roll in her midsection. She wanted to get away and think. Stepping into the bright light of afternoon, the blast of tropical light quickly darkened as a huge shadow spread over the compound. Dark gray clouds swooped in front of the sun, converging overhead for the usual afternoon rain. The reprieve from the merciless sun and the refreshing rain were welcome. She ducked into her tent as the first drops pelted the canvas. Stripped down to her tank top and panties, she lowered the mosquito netting over her bed, closed her eyes, and drifted off to the cadence of the rain.

  *~*

  Tino straightened his pack for the hundredth time. In his haste to return to the dig, he’d packed the bag unevenly. The weight pulling on one side annoyed him as much as his infatuation with the skinny doctor. He stopped, dropped his burden, and untied the flap. One by one he removed the items, relocating them to redistribute the weight.

  The murmur of deep voices drifted through the silence of the forest. He scanned the area to make sure none of his belongings remained on the ground and hurried off the trail, hiding behind a large fern.

  Walsh and two narcos in fatigues, toting AK-47 assault rifles, came into view. The coloring and features of the men labeled them ladinos. Like most narcos in Guatemala, they weren’t indigenous natives. The large land owners were also seldom full natives. They had Spanish roots and more education, and while they married Mayan women, they still caused problems with the Mayans. His first excursion into this region he’d been pleasantly surprised by the Mayan’s generosity. His ladin
o features gave him the appearance of their oppressors, but they’d quickly recognized he wasn’t Guatemalan. His dialect had set him apart from the upper-class Guatemalan and won him respect.

  Snippets of Spanish and English drifted to where he hid.

  “…items will be bloody ready.” Walsh’s booming Brit voice was unmistakable.

  “Don Miguel is expecting….”

  “He’ll have better…”

  They continued down the trail toward the settlement.

  Tino remained hidden for fifteen minutes, making sure they didn’t backtrack. How did Walsh get away from the dig every day to meet with the narcos? What were the “items?” He hadn’t heard drugs called items before. Merchandise or product, but never items.

  He opened his pack, dug through his supplies, and extracted a small receiver from an apparatus that resembled a tracking device. Using the GPS on his watch, he pointed the antennae toward the satellite and dialed in the secure frequency.

  The crackle of the radio reverberated in his ear buds.

  “Konstantine. Over.”

  He listened, waited.

  “Ginger. Why are you contacting me? Over.” The familiar female voice relieved him.

  “Need background on Rupert Walsh, professor of archeology, British. Virgil Martin, Ph.D in archeology, United States. Don Miguel, Guatemalan, presumably Petén. Over.”

  “Contact me in twenty-four. Over.”

  “Why so long, mi amor? Over.”

  “You aren’t the only agent I’m helping. Over.” Her teasing voice lightened the situation.

  “Ah, mi amor, you have broken my heart. Over.” He’d met Ginger during training. Her robust, fifty-something figure and orange box-dyed hair made her hard to forget.

  “Same time tomorrow. Out.” The connection ended.

  In his line of work, Ginger was often the only person he talked to for weeks at a time besides drug traffickers. Over the last two years, they had become long-distance friends, if only in a business capacity.

  Right now, he wanted to get back to the dig and find out where Walsh was supposed to be and what his job at the site entailed. As easily as the professor met up with the narcos, they had to have a base camp not far from the dig. Why? And most importantly, where? He didn’t want to contemplate what could happen to an unsuspecting worker at the dig, should wander off and land in the middle of the narco’s camp. Tonight, he’d do reconnaissance and find the exact location.