9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  He scanned the area around the compound. Not only did he have to fear forces outside the camp harming her, he now believed she had danger inside. He stopped at the corner of the mess tent.

  He had to tell her about his real reason for being here. She had to be made aware of all the dangers, especially now that he wouldn’t be around to watch her. But he had to tell her before they entered the mess tent.

  “There are things you need to know.” He peered into her inquisitive eyes. It killed him to have to leave her alone, but he had no choice. The wrath in Martin’s eyes was nothing to ignore. If he stayed the man could take out that anger on her. “But not here.” He moved away from her and headed toward the jungle.

  Isabella stared at Tino’s retreating back. It took a second for her to realize he wanted her to follow.

  She jogged after him.

  He passed his tent and headed into the jungle.

  She followed.

  Three steps inside the trees, an arm wrapped around her middle and yanked her against a hard body she now knew well.

  “What—” Hard demanding lips covered hers. His hands captured her head, allowing no escape even if she wanted it. His mouth commandeered hers. His tongue entered, tangling, seducing, making her dizzy with longing.

  He finally drew back, and her legs refused to hold her. Tino twined his arms around her middle, holding her up. His hands, pressing against her lower back, sent wonderful sensations sparking through her.

  “We must talk. But I wanted to make sure you know I will not leave you unprotected.” His soft playful utterance started her heart racing.

  “Are you worried about Virgil’s anger?” She leaned back to gaze into his eyes. The desire lighting them slowly sputtered.

  “Among other things. I want to tell you the truth, but I fear you are safer not knowing.” His arms tightened. “Can you trust me on this?”

  “So my instincts are right, you aren’t a guide or tracker?” She didn’t like his reference to her safety, but it was reassuring to know she’d been right in her assumption.

  “No, I was given the assignment to take over as your guide to get into this area undetected.” He cradled her head in his hands. His eyes shone brilliant blue and peered into hers. “I cannot tell you everything, but please, do not tell anyone what I tell you. With Martin kicking me out of the camp, you are vulnerable if I do not tell you all I know.”

  “This all sounds so ominous. I take it you’re on the legal side of the law?”

  “Very much.”

  “Then I won’t ask any more and have faith you’ll tell me what I need to know.”

  He let out a huge sigh. “Thank you, pichón. I promise you will know everything when I can tell you.”

  “That’s all I want from you Tino, the truth.” Feeling bold, she tentatively pressed her lips to his. Of course, she wanted more than the truth, a whole lot more, but she’d settle for the fact she had his trust.

  He deepened the kiss, devouring her mouth, and igniting her tinder dry flame of desire for him.

  She twined around him like an epiphyte clinging to a tree. Closer, she wanted closer, and to touch him and kiss him everywhere at once. Knowing she might not see him again gave her a sense of how much she’d come to enjoy his presence.

  “Querida, whoa.” Tino pulled back.

  The macho grin on his handsome face registered through her haze of desire.

  “If I had known leaving would bring out your desire, I would have left sooner.”

  Isabella punched him in the chest with her palm. “I wish Virgil hadn’t ordered you out of camp.”

  “Me either. While it helps my true mission, I do not like leaving you here alone.” Tino drew her in a tight embrace. “I will sneak in at night and check on you.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do the work you came for quickly. This place does not feel right.”

  Her throat clogged from a lump of emotion. “Come eat with me and I’ll help you pack.”

  “No, querida. It is best for you if I leave now.” He raised her face, kissing her with such tenderness, tears burned in her eyes and love burned in her heart.

  “Come. I will take you back.”

  They exited the dense foliage as Virgil stalked out of the mess tent. His glower deepened when his gaze landed on the two of them.

  Virgil’s hand rested on a pistol in a holster on his belt. When did he start carrying a gun? She’d felt Tino’s gun tucked in the back of his pants when she hugged him, but she knew he carried a gun. She’d encountered it on other occasions.

  Her mentor glared at their linked hands.

  “I consented to a last meal not a last grope.” Virgil stared daggers at Tino, and he returned the look but didn’t let go of her hand.

  “Please, Virgil, he’s leaving. Don’t make more out of it than it is.” She wouldn’t allow his wrong perception to cause Tino harm.

  “What do I tell your father? You came here because I asked for your expertise and in return you slept with the hired help?” Derision laced his words and suspicion stirred in his eyes. “I’ll never get backing from him again. Not when he expects me to keep an eye on you and this sort of thing happens.”

  “I’m not sleeping with him. We’re friends.” She told the truth. They were close friends. His last sentence hit her. “What do you mean, backing? Is that why you’ve always been so nice to me? To get my father’s financial backing for your excavations?”

  “Don’t change the subject. You want to be respected in my world; then you better not act like a slut.”

  His words hurt her deeper than he’d ever know. He knew her dream was to belong in his world of anthropologists and archeologists. He’d called her a genius and advocated for her. But now she knew he only helped her to keep her father funding his digs. She couldn’t shake the sense of betrayal weakening her knees and clouding her thoughts. He didn’t really believe in her. All these years he’d used her innocence to get her father’s money.

  Tino stepped forward. “You may call me all the names you wish but do not call Ezzabella names.” The two men stood nearly chest to chest, like a couple of fighting roosters. Tino’s standing up for her formed a small bandage over the wounds Virgil’s comments inflicted.

  “Well, well, it looks like you two bloody better set a time and day for a duel.” Professor Walsh walked up, his face glowing with glee over the two men standing nose to nose. “I bet my centavos on the guide. He’s got youth and street smarts.”

  “There isn’t going to be a duel or a fight.” Isabella tugged on Tino’s shirt sleeve. Men. It flattered her Tino was willing to take on the older, taller, though definitely less experienced man, but she didn’t believe in violence other than to physically defend one’s self.

  “Go on. I’ll be fine.” She tugged harder and Tino stepped back from Virgil.

  “You are sure?” His question went deeper than her physical being. She saw his concern reflected in his eyes.

  “Yes, go.” For Virgil’s benefit, she added, “Look me up when you get to the states. We’ll track down your great grandparents.”

  “I will.” Tino squeezed her hand, gave her one more deep searching look, and walked away.

  Even knowing she’d see him again, didn’t lessen the anxiety rippling through her at the prospect of facing Virgil.

  She tamped down her disappointment in the man she’d thought of as a mentor and her own stupidity to think he had championed her because of her knowledge. He’d used her as a bargaining chip for funds from her father. How stupid could she be? Not giving the man a glance, she headed to the mess tent. Her appetite had left her, but she knew a long day was ahead of her and she needed nourishment.

  Isabella stepped inside the mess tent and found it empty.

  Pedro arrived with fruit, tortillas, and cheese. “Where is your man?”

  My man? She liked the idea, but wasn’t sure their relationship was that concrete yet. “He’s my friend not my man. Dr. Martin sent him away.” She took a cup of coffee and
inhaled the rich aroma. If only life were as uncomplicated as brewing a good cup of coffee.

  Her heart sat heavy in her chest. She’d been lonely most of her life. But she’d never felt as empty as she did right now knowing she would be lucky to catch brief visits with Tino until she left. And with his line of work, who knew what could happen to him. The thought caused her to gasp. When she thought of him as a guide and jaguar tracker, while those are dangerous jobs, she believed in his skill. Knowing he went up against unlawful people changed his odds.

  Pedro sat in a chair beside her. She shifted to study his face. He stared at her a long while then leaned close.

  “I have been watching. You must be careful.” He spoke so quiet she barely heard what he said.

  “What? What do you mean?” First Tino, and now the cook, offering her warnings. What kind of trouble could she possibly find deciphering glyphs?

  “I have seen others watching you.” Pedro nodded his head once in affirmation.

  “They’re watching the camp. Looking for a chance to steal artifacts.” She waved a hand and stuffed a tortilla into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. “Besides, he was caught last night.”

  “They are after more than the artifacts. They want you.” Pedro stood. “You must be careful.”

  Chapter 16

  Isabella finished her meal and headed to the cataloging tent to see what Eunice could tell her about the possible missing artifacts.

  Eunice bent over a small table, studying fragments with the porous appearance of bone.

  “What do you have there?” Isabella peered at the jagged edges and coloration of the specimens.

  The older woman jumped, swaying the gray braid hanging down her back. “Isabella, you startled me, I was concentrating so hard on these objects.” Eunice stepped aside after writing in a large notebook. “These are pieces of the handle of, I think, a sacrificing knife.” She pointed with her pen at the largest piece. “See the carving on the larger piece? And the darker coloration near the end? It appears to be blood. These shards are pieces of bone. They would have become more brittle by now if they hadn’t been fashioned into a knife and preserved.” She picked up a slender pointed piece of shiny obsidian. “And this was found along with these pieces. The blade.”

  Isabella stared at the odd shapes of bone and the long pointed piece of shiny, black stone in Eunice’s hand. A shiver ran across her shoulder blades and down her back. The same odd sensation that had shimmied through her while she was in the sacrificing chamber. She shook it off. “Do we have the equipment here to run tests on these?”

  “Only superficial testing. I’ll be able to determine if it is bone and, possibly, that the dark substance is blood, but as for dating—this is such a low budget dig; all we do is clean it to identify, label the composition, put like pieces together, and categorize them. Then the artifacts are packed to ship to the Universidad Francisco Marroquin.” Eunice shook her head. “There have been a couple artifacts I’d give my good eggs to research more.”

  If Eunice was willing to give up her eggs when she had waited this long for the right man to come into her life, Isabella knew the significance of the pieces.

  “Why aren’t we doing all the research?” This new knowledge was another puzzle in her ongoing discovery of things that didn’t add up.

  “Because we have to get this site excavated in two years and move out. Virgil is trying to pull out as much as he can as fast as he can and worry about the research later.” Eunice picked up her camera and snapped pictures of the items.

  “But if the artifacts are in a Guatemalan university how does he plan to research them?”

  Eunice shrugged. “I get paid to catalogue, take photos, and not ask questions.”

  “Which is why I’m here. Did you mention to Virgil there was an urn missing yesterday?”

  Eunice bobbed out from behind the camera, surprise widening her eyes. “What urn?”

  “The one you showed me the night before that you planned to photograph.” Isabella spread her hands one above the other, depicting the size. “The tall one with the ceremonial drawings.”

  “What makes you think it’s missing?” Eunice stood with one hip cocked, the camera in her hand tipped away from her aging face.

  “The other night it was sitting where you placed it when I talked to you, and then later that night, when I reentered the artifact tent, it was missing.”

  The older woman shook her head. “Honey, I don’t doubt it wasn’t there, but I took great photos of it the next morning.” She placed the camera on the end of the table and motioned with her finger. “It’s packed in a box over here.”

  Isabella watched in disbelief as Eunice opened a box and dug through the packing material to pull out the vase she thought stolen.

  “I…that’s the one?” If no one stole the urn, why was it missing and why was Juan sneaking into the dig?

  “Are you okay? You look a little pale.” Eunice placed the urn on the top of the crate and reached out to her.

  “I’m fine, just confused.” She ran a hand over her eyes and peered at the container. “Mind if I look it over more closely?”

  “Go right ahead. I’ll finish my photos of these bone fragments.” Eunice returned to her camera.

  Isabella reached out for the vase. Tingling at the nape of her neck made her glance around. The sensation that someone watched niggled at her mind. Her fingertips pulsed and heated when they touched the ancient urn. The lid on the container didn’t budge. She shook the urn. The weight inside shifted. What was in there? They wouldn’t know until someone at the Guatemalan University opened the urn. She itched to remove the lid and discover the contents. Since that was impossible without consent from Virgil, she studied the drawings on the outside.

  Though many depictions of bloodletting and sacrificial ceremonies were graphic in nature, this one disturbed her more than any other. The vivid portrayal of a woman being sacrificed with gleeful onlookers haunted her and something about the scene evoked deep sorrow in her chest. She swiped at a tear trickling down her cheek and noticed a small, almost faded piece of the drawing. A moon. Crying. What did a crying moon have to do with the ceremony? She stared at the tears dropping from the moon and then back at the woman. Tears the same shape and size dropped from the woman’s open eyes. The moon and woman were connected.

  Excitement over her discovery surged through her body. She had to learn more about this woman and this ceremony.

  “Eunice, I’d like to make notes from this urn. I’ll just sit over there and do it if you don’t mind?” Isabella carefully placed the urn on the floor and sat in front of it.

  “What did you find?” Eunice peeked out from behind the camera.

  “I’m not sure, but I think it ties in with the stone tablet and the altar chamber.” Isabella pulled her journal out of her pocket and began drawing the details she believed pertinent.

  *~*

  Tino quickly took down his tent and relocated it one hundred yards into the forest before setting out for the cave the narcos guarded. Halfway to the cave he stopped, moved plants, and pulled out his radio. He had stashed the equipment in the jungle to avoid it being found in his possession. His tagging transmitter could be used to communicate with DEA in a pinch, but this equipment was more secure. He checked the GPS on his watch and tipped the antenna north. With one ear pad from the headphones on an ear and one on his cheek so he could still hear if anyone approached, he listened to the crackle as he dialed in the coordinates for Ginger. She had had little to report when he stashed the radio. He hoped she had some answers for him today.

  “Konstantine. Over.” He waited, honing in on sounds from the earphones but still conscience of the jungle noises.

  “Go ahead. Over.” Ginger’s voice sounded haggard.

  “Working hard, mi amor? Over.” He had to voice his thoughts. This woman had saved his butt more than once with her information.

  “No more than usual.” Ginger sighed. “But thanks for asking.
Over.”

  “Have you had a chance to gather my information? Over.” He hoped her investigation into the men would help him decide his next move.

  “Rupert Walsh, professor of archeology, British. Known to gamble more than he can afford. Spends most of his time in the U.S. when not on digs. Though he is highly recognized in the world of archeology, it is rumored he sells artifacts to cover his gambling debts.”

  The man was playing both sides of the coin, no doubt, since he was tight with the narcos.

  “Virgil Martin, doctor of archeology, American. One of the most revered archeologists in the world. But with the economy has found it harder and harder to get backing for his expeditions. He also dropped out of sight for a year before he started his latest dig.”

  Tino found that bit of information interesting. Why would he drop out of sight for a year and then come here?

  “Don Miguel, Petén, Guatemala. Owner of the largest plantation in Petén. Commodities are coffee, sugar, and cattle. His name has come up in connection with Garza. He’s a collector of Mayan artifacts. Over.”

  Sugar. There was a good possibility the man knew his estranged family still in Venezuela running the family sugar cane and rum operation. It also sounded as if he had his fingers in everything that happened on this stretch of the Usumacinta River.

  “That answers my questions. Gracias. Over.”

  “Take care. Out.”

  Tino re-hid the radio and stashed his pack. Now to investigate the narcos’ cave. He moved through the jungle in a direct line toward the spot where he’d watched Walsh talking with the traffickers.

  The sound of voices carried to him before he had a visual of the cave entrance. Donkeys stood in a pack string outside the cave. The ten small, pack animals bulged with canvas-wrapped bundles. He inched closer to hear the conversations clearly.

  “Meet Ricardo at the river at midnight. He will take the packs and head up river. Go to the settlement and wait for the next delivery.” The man giving the orders wasn’t Garza.