The Wedding Ransom

by Geralyn Dawson

  They continued their trek along the jungle path and Maggie’s snit began to melt. As if he sensed her feelings, Rafe glanced back at her and winked.

  Gentleman Rake Malone suited him better, she decided. A small grin lifted her lips at the thought. Along with her smile came a cheering of her heart, and within minutes Maggie’s outlook on the day had changed.

  The jungle felt less oppressive and even her steps seemed lighter. She marched for a full quarter hour without once thinking a complaint. Instead of her earlier lethargy, Maggie knew a sense of excitement. Soon they would reach the treasure trove. They were only an hour or two away from securing the means to save Hotel Bliss and solve all their problems.

  And on a more immediate scale, it wouldn’t be long now until she took a refreshing swim in the cool, clean water of a cenote.

  Although her papas and Malone didn’t know it yet, she intended to join the thief on his cenote swim. Swimming alone was always a dangerous proposition; swimming alone in an underground river was simply stupid. Too much was at stake to take unnecessary risks, and besides, Maggie had heard stories about the underwater world for much of her life. She wasn’t about to squander her opportunity to see its wonder for herself.

  “The sopadilla tree is straight ahead,” Snake called up to Gus. “Do you see it?”

  “Yep.” The pirate glanced over his shoulder to Rafe. “Time to pull out the machete, son. From here on out we blaze our own trail. It’ll be tough going for a time.”

  “Why isn’t there a path? I thought y’all were just down here.”

  “We were. But the jungle reclaims its territory fast. That’s one reason this is such a good hiding place for our booty. Almost as soon as we cut our way through, the vines and bushes grow to close our path, concealing it from the casual eye.”

  Drawing his own broad-blade machete, Gus studied the sopadilla tree, chose a spot, then whacked his way into the foliage. The going proved hard but not unreasonably slow, and less than fifteen minutes later they reached a towering rock monolith that marked their goal.

  “What the hell is that?” Rafe asked, staring up at the leering, fearsome faces carved into the stone.

  “The Maya left calling cards like that all across this land,” Snake answered. “That’s how we found our hiding place. Ben has a real interest in the old ruins, and each time we came here he’d drag us off on an expedition of sorts. We linked up with a guide who over time became a friend. He showed us the entrances to find the cave. The back way in—the one you’ll be taking—is marked by carvings like that.”

  Rafe gave the images a mock salute. “Glad you warned me. I’d hate to run across one of those unexpectedly. Scare the bejabbers out of a man.”

  “There he goes being scared again,” Snake said to Gus, disgust lacing his tone. “I’m beginning to get worried.”

  “Don’t be silly, Papa Snake,” Maggie said. “Rafe will do just fine.”

  The man in question quirked a brow as if amused or surprised by her show of support. Gus said, “Everyone quiet now. I want you all to listen good and make certain we’re alone.” Lowering his voice, he added, “We’re almost there.”

  Finally, Maggie thought.

  Once the pirates were assured of their solitude, they led Rafe and Maggie toward a slight rise in the landscape, their machetes hacking away at the incessant web of low scrub. “Careful now,” Gus called. They stood at the top of a rise. The ground sloped steeply downward before leveling out again some thirty feet below them. “It’s tricky to see, and if you don’t watch where you’re going you could stumble into the sinkhole.”

  “Sinkhole?” Rafe questioned. “Like the ones we have in the Texas hill country?”

  “Yes, in a way. The land has crumbled in, forming a cave around a pool that is fed by the underground river. Follow me and you’ll see. The path is gravelly, though, so footing is precarious. Watch that your feet don’t slide out from under you.”

  They climbed down the small hill, assisting one another as needed. Excitement thrummed in Maggie’s veins as the ground leveled out and she gasped with pleasure at first sight of the cenote.

  The cave cut into the hill some twenty feet at its widest. Rock formed an arch over a pool of crystal—clear water that disappeared into deep shadows at the back of the cavern. Tropical flowers framed the edges of the arch, an explosion of oranges and reds, purples and yellows. Fruit bats sounded a baleful greeting from their ceiling perch.

  Maggie hurriedly descended the rest of the path, halting at the very edge of the cenote, smiling at the majestic beauty of the scene.

  “It’s magical,” Rafe said, his eyes alight as he joined her.

  “The Maya thought so,” Gus told him, coming up behind. “Similar basins dot the entire Yucatan peninsula. We’re told it’s not unheard of today for an occasional sacrifice to be offered up to the gods from places like this.”

  Rafe thumbed his hat back on his head. “Tell me y’all haven’t taken up their religion.”

  Snake dropped his pack on the ground. “Not yet, but we damn sure might if you keep sniffing around our Maggie.”

  “Papa!” she protested. She didn’t want any strife to mar this moment. She knew the peace would end soon enough as it was. It would end the minute she expressed her intention to accompany Rafe on his swim.

  “C’mon, folks,” Gus said. “Daylight’s wasting. I want to go over the map one more time with Malone before we head out for the fissure.”

  “I know it by heart,” Rafe said seriously.

  “It never hurts to check things out one last time.”

  Rafe pulled a dagger from its sheath at his waist. Hunkering down, he began to trace in the dirt. Maggie felt certain he could draw it in his sleep if required. Her grandfathers had gone over the route at least five times a day since they’d left Galveston. Maggie knew it by heart, and she hadn’t been the one the papas constantly had grilled with the facts.

  Once Rafe managed to reach the inner chamber, retrieving the treasure would be a relatively simple process. The men carried a coil of rope and a dozen bank bags. The plan was for them to lower an empty bag tied onto the rope through the fissure in the rock above the treasure cave. Rafe would fill the bag and the papas would pull it up to the surface where they’d load the plunder into backpacks for the hike out of the jungle.

  On the previous trip, they had debated the idea of widening the fissure enough for a man to fit through and retrieve the treasure that way. Two things had stopped them. First, it would forever destroy a great hiding place, and a man never knew when he might need one of those. Second, Lucky had recalled the promise Ben had made to his guide years earlier not to disturb the land. To do so risked a curse from the Mayan gods. They considered this plan far superior because it risked only Rafe Malone’s life.

  When Snake and Gus finally agreed that Rafe knew where he needed to go, they wished him luck and prepared to leave the cenote. Now that the moment was upon her, Maggie decided that action served better than words at this particular time. Briskly she shucked down to her bathing sarong. Rafe saw what she was doing before her grandfathers noticed, but this once, anyway, she proved quicker than he. As he reached out to stop her, she dove into the cenote.

  The cold water shocked her, squeezing her lungs like an overly tight corset. She hadn’t expected it to be this chilly, and she hoped the drop in temperature wouldn’t trigger a bout of rheumatism as it had in the past. Her papas would really be angry then. But it was too late now to worry the question. She was committed to her course.

  She surfaced just long enough to take a breath. Her grandfathers’ angry shouts rang in her ears as she dove beneath the water once again and swam for the tunnel that led off the right side of the cenote. A splash behind her told her Rafe had followed on her heels, and she pulled harder, kicked harder, swimming as fast as she could along the narrow opening. Around that first turn she’d find a hole in the rock approximately three feet below the surface. Once she made it through there, she’
d be safe. Rafe couldn’t force her back through the hole if she resisted, not without drowning her, anyway.

  Coming up for air, she spied the leering face painted on the wall and knew she’d found the first marker. The tunnel hole would be directly beneath it. She took a breath and prepared to dive when a hand grasped her ankle. Kelp you, Rafe Malone!

  Like a fish on a line, she went still for a moment. Then, just as he attempted to reel her in, she twisted and bucked and slithered from his grasp. She’d gotten away!

  She kicked hard and pulled with her arms. In a flash, she made it through a hole and into the next chamber. She surfaced and treaded water while she investigated her surroundings. Sunlight beamed through cracks in the top of the cave some ten feet above Maggie’s head and created the purest, gentlest blue she had ever seen. She could easily have hovered there, drinking in the beauty, had she not needed to find a place to stage the battle she fully expected to wage with Rafe.

  He didn’t disappoint her. No sooner had she grasped a rocky ledge along the tunnel wall than his head and shoulders burst from the water in the middle of the luminescent pool. He gave his head a shake, slinging water like bullets while his eyes fired flaming arrows straight at her. Pasting on a false grin, she said, “And I thought Loch Ness had a monster.”

  His shout echoed off the walls. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Maggie was nervous, but determined not to show it. She licked her lips. “I think that should be obvious, Malone. I’m going with you.”

  “The hell you are.”

  “The hell I am, too.” Because she couldn’t quite make herself hold his gaze, she glanced down into the crystal water. Oh, my. Rafe Malone swam naked.

  His arms pumped the water and his biceps bunched. Shock lit his eyes. “You said a real swear word.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “You certainly should.” He lifted one hand from the water and crooked a finger. “Come on, Maggie. You’re going back.”

  Her long wet hair swirled around her shoulders as she shook her head. “No, I’m not, and if you try to make me I’ll fight you. Even someone with your strength can’t force me through that hole if I don’t cooperate.”

  “You are some piece of work, lady.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rafe swam toward her, stopping only an arm’s length away. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, the frustration in his voice echoing off the walls. “Is it trust? You don’t trust me? You think I’ll load up the treasure and swim it out of here? Swim it all the way back to Texas, perhaps?”

  Maggie touched his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll steal our treasure, Rafe. Not anymore, anyway. I simply don’t think it’s smart for you to make this swim by yourself. My grandfathers haven’t used the back entrance to the cave for years and years, and even then their guide swam the route, not them. What if you run into trouble?”

  He grabbed hold of the rock shelf and dryly drawled, “I didn’t know you cared.”

  His choice of words caught Maggie off guard. The sense that something profound might come from her answer lapped at her consciousness. I didn’t know you cared. When she didn’t reply, Rafe’s gaze grew more intent. Maggie stared into his eyes and did her best to read the emotions in their jungle green depths. Anticipation? Apprehension? What did he want to hear?

  What did she want to say?

  Rafe was a rake, a rogue. He was the kind of man a woman could love but never get to keep.

  Well, she didn’t want to keep him, did she? She simply wanted to enjoy him for a while. Right?

  I didn’t know you cared.

  Well, there was caring and there was caring. Maggie was prepared to admit to only the first. She cleared her throat. “I do care, Rafe. I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”

  The moment hung between them, ripe and seductive. Rafe brushed a thumb across her cheek and then her lower lip. “Ah, Mary Margaret. What am I going to do with you?”

  Leaning toward him, she answered with her eyes. Kiss me.

  Chapter 7

  Aw, hell, he wanted to kiss her.

  Sunlight lit the cavern from a dozen small cracks in the roof above them as Rafe stared at Maggie’s lips, drawn like a thirsty man to water. He wanted to taste her, touch her, hold her.

  But he also wanted to wring her neck.

  He couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the water out of the blue like that. She must have known neither he nor the pirates would allow her to swim into the treasure cave, so she up and took the decision from their hands. Willful little witch. How had those pirates managed her all these years? Obviously, they hadn’t managed her at all.

  Maggie watched him expectantly, and for Rafe, time seemed to slow to a crawl. I do care, she’d said with conviction and a hint of despair in her voice. Her confession warmed a corner of his heart even as it raised his defenses.

  He gave his legs a little kick, backing away from her. He needed the distance, both physically and emotionally. Hard experience had taught him to be cautious where women and caring were concerned.

  Rafe was a man who truly liked women; he enjoyed having a special one in his life. For years he’d viewed each romantic relationship as just one more adventure to savor, and certainly the women he’d known hadn’t seemed to mind. But Rafe’s perspective had changed a few years back when he had tangled with Elizabeth Perkins. He’d fallen harder than usual for the woman, and when she’d chosen to marry another man—a man with an impeccable reputation—he’d taken it like a bullet. Since then he’d been much more careful about allowing ladies into his heart.

  Then he’d met Maggie, whose spirit and fire and loyalty and tenderness threatened all his good intentions. He had the sneaking suspicion that without even trying, Maggie St. John could make the fickle Elizabeth Perkins look like an also-ran in the heartbreak race.

  After all, he was already halfway in love with the woman.

  He croaked out his next words. “I hear your grandfathers shouting. Don’t you think you should go talk to them about this?”

  Her mouth pursed in a pout. “I don’t doubt they’re out there poised to grab me the minute I poke so much as a finger through that opening. But you’d better go explain that I’m going with you. Otherwise they’re liable to try to swim in after me.”

  Rafe blew out a harsh breath. “Maggie, you are not coming with me.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He restrained himself, barely, from dunking her head beneath the water. “Then why am I even here? If you are big and strong enough to make this swim, then why did those four old marauders come calling at my ranch?”

  “Because we need you. I need you. I’m too afraid to try this swim alone even if my grandfathers would have let me, which they wouldn’t. If you hadn’t agreed to help, we’d all still be in Texas. So please, Rafe, go tell them you’ll watch out for me. Let me watch out for you. I have a feeling we’ll make a good team.”

  So did he. That was the problem. Without another word, he turned and dove beneath the water, swimming back to the outside pool.

  Maggie had called it correctly. Gus waited on the other side of the wall, his lips set in an angry line. Snake stood ready with a rope. “Malone! Where is she? Tell me you didn’t leave her in there.”

  Rafe eyed the rope skeptically. “Tell me you weren’t going to tie her up.”

  “We weren’t going to tie her up,” they replied in unison, their flippant tone contradicting their words.

  No wonder Maggie acted so crazy. With men like these seeing to her raising, he found it amazing she’d turned out as normal as she had. Willful but normal. And so damned delicious she made his teeth hurt. “She thinks I might need her help. As you have probably figured out, she wants to come with me.”

  “Well she can keep wanting,” Gus grumbled, the silver hoop in his ear swinging like a pendulum as he propped a hip against a moss-covered rock. “I won’t have her down there. It’s too dangerous.”

  Snake rubbed his hand across
his brow and moaned. “I knew we should have left her in Texas.”

  “It’s a little late for that now,” Rafe replied. “She’s here, she’s in that tunnel, and she claims she’s not coming out until you have the treasure in your hands. Now, I could bring her out by force, but I’d just as soon not fight that battle. She’d have us all paying for it for weeks.”

  Gus started shaking his head back and forth, and Rafe could tell he was winding up to deliver an ear—blister. Hurriedly he added, “How about I let her tag along until we reach the chamber right before the deep dive? According to what you’ve told me, the going shouldn’t be difficult or dangerous up to that point.”

  The pirates shared a look of resignation. Snake drew his knife and grabbed Rafe’s trousers from the ground. With a pair of dramatic slashes, he sliced off the legs.

  Rafe scowled. “What the—”

  “You’ll cover yourself if you’re swimming with my Maggie.” He tossed the shortened pants toward Rafe, who caught them with one hand. Rafe yanked them on, sharing a glare with Snake even as he silently acknowledged the wisdom of the idea. The water was cold, but not so cold that his body didn’t respond naturally to the sight of Maggie St. John all wet and luscious.

  A glowering Gus traced the scar across his cheek and warned, “Protect her with your life, Malone. That’s what it will cost you if any harm comes to her.”

  “Shoot, I’ve already figured out she’ll be the death of me one way or the other. Let’s get this over with, shall we, gentlemen? When can I expect to meet you at the treasure cave?”

  “Your route underground is more direct than ours. We have a two-mile hike ahead of us. Taking the jungle into account, you’ll probably wait on us for an hour at least.”

  Having struggled into his britches, Rafe gave the pirates a two-fingered salute. “Until later, then, gentlemen.” Giving a wave, he dove below the surface.

  Maggie met him as he emerged inside the second chamber. “I imagine they are not very happy with me,” she said with a wince of regret.