He pulled out a volume. Mysteries and Legends. It figured. When Cedric hadn’t been telling tall tales, he’d been reading about them.
Travis replaced the book and turned his attention to the cabinet against the wall closest to the door. On the floor next to the cabinet was another box he had to shove aside to get to the three-tier file drawer. He grasped the handle, heaving a sigh when it opened. He glanced inside, his eyes widening at a framed picture of himself on top of a stack of old papers.
The photo was taken years after Travis had seen him last. His mother must have given it to her father. Travis certainly hadn’t.
He and the man hadn’t seen much of each other. The only fond memory he could recall was when they’d spent a week together while his mother was on one of her honeymoons. He’d taught Travis how to use a compass—something that had come in handy since he’d become a guide.
Emotion clogged his throat. He forced it down. Clearly he needed some rest. It was just a damned picture.
Travis shoved the frame aside, exposing a ring of keys under a folder. One had to unlock the desk.
He tried each key until he found the right one and opened the drawer. Inside was a journal—with another key on top.
He picked it up. The inlaid symbol had him remembering the box his grandfather had given him.
Travis drew in a quick breath. Hadn’t the old man insisted this was worth more than anything else in his estate?
He glanced around the room. Not a hard thing to believe. Now, what had he done with the box? Right. He’d left it in his Jeep. Was it worth braving ten inches of snow to get?
Travis glanced at the key again. Hell with it.
He snatched his jacket from the chair and headed for the front door. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
As he stepped outside, the wind caught his coat and whipped it away from his body, the bone-chilling gust going straight through him.
Travis put his head down and trudged to the Jeep. Who in their right mind would choose to live in such a cold place? Hell, maybe the freezing weather drove his grandfather crazy. It certainly would Travis.
At his 4x4, he brushed the snow from the handle of the door and yanked, causing a chunk from the roof to let go and fly in his face.
“Christ Almighty.” Once he left this arctic tundra, he was never coming back again.
He wiped the ice crystals away from his cheek and with chattering teeth, he grabbed the box from the backseat. The odds were that the thing was as worthless as everything else in the house.
Back in the study, Travis placed the box on the desk, paused to blow on his chilled fingers, then slowly inserted the key into the hole.
It fit.
Travis held his breath and turned.
Click.
His heart jumped. Finally something was going right.
Travis opened the lid, his jaw dropping as he stared at a yellow slip of parchment, the large cross in the center causing his heart to stop.
It was a map. But was it the map Cedric spoke of in his letter?
Taking care not to rip the paper, Travis eased it from the box. It was old and had started to crumble around the edges.
Jesus, it has the word “Peru” next to the cross.
Could his grandfather have been telling the truth? Was there treasure in the Amazon—artifacts that once belonged to the Knights Templar?
His mind raced. Why South America of all places?
Better yet, why trust him to keep this secret? His grandfather knew nothing about him. What kind of man he’d become. Thanks to his mother and stepfather, he'd probably never be normal.
Travis took in a harsh, hard breath.
If Cedric had known him, he’d have never entrusted him with this. He wasn't worthy.
Peru. Hadn’t Hall mentioned a job there?
Had he contacted Chaz yet?
Either way, it wouldn’t matter. Chaz was a friend. He could go into the rain forest with him. That way his fellow guide could lead the team while he concentrated on finding the X on the map.
But wait. What was he thinking? Wouldn’t this make him as bad as the clients he now refused to work for?
Possibly. But then, it wasn’t like it was Peruvian artifacts. He had just as much right to Templar gold as the next guy—especially if he was the one to find it. Finders keepers, losers weepers. And frankly, if they knew nothing about the treasure, what were they actually losing?
* * * *
Mattie awoke, drenched in sweat, her nightgown pasted to her skin. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and noted it would be daylight soon. The dream she’d had was so vivid it was hard to believe it hadn’t been real. The shadowy figure in the vision had touched her—made her feel things she’d never experienced in her thirty-two years of life—made her yearn for something she couldn’t name.
She rose from bed and padded into the small hotel bathroom.
Her hands shook as she twisted the faucet in the sink and splashed water on her face, quelling the trembling inside her.
In the mirror, her blue-green eyes looked almost black, like she’d been transformed in some way.
Strange, but since she’d arrived in the South American town, her sixth-sense perception had been working overtime. Now this vivid dream. Something odd was happening to her. She felt as if she'd been brought here for more than just to lead her team on this expedition. It was as if every step she’d taken to get to Manu had been predestined somehow.
But why?
Was this man in her dream important?
Was he even real? Or was the dream just that—a dream?
Mattie bathed her face again, then peeled off the damp nightgown and washed her shoulders with a washcloth. As she cooled herself, every cell inside her charged, as if she were being electrocuted from the inside out.
She brushed the rough material across her breasts and they tightened, her belly quivering.
What was wrong with her? No dream had ever made her feel so sensual—made her body come to life so dramatically. Not even her actual sexual experiences—especially with Gerald Elders—had been as powerful as the dream.
Mattie tossed the cloth into the sink and turned the cold water on in the shower. In a rush, she ducked inside and sucked in a ragged breath when the icy spray struck her chest.
A few minutes under the frigid temperature shocked her system back to normal.
She turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, her teeth chattering like an old manual typewriter. She grasped a towel from the metal rack above the toilet and dried off.
Today was going to be difficult. First she’d have to inform Mr. Glass she was turning down his offer to be their guide; then she’d need to find something to occupy herself for the rest of the day. Maybe she could study the criteria for recording a new species of plant if they got lucky enough to find one.
Mattie pulled a pair of khakis and a button-down chambray shirt from a drawer and dressed. She slipped into her boots and grabbed her key, heading down to the restaurant in the hotel’s lower level. A cup of strong black coffee would revive her.
On the first floor, Mattie walked into the dining area and took a seat at a table against the wall. She had a hard time being assertive—a trait she wasn’t proud of, but knew was learned behavior. Living through the fallout of her father’s excessive gambling had made her insecure, made her want to blend into the background.
A curvaceous woman in a white peasant top and brightly colored knee-length skirt approached, holding a steaming urn in her hand. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Mattie turned the cup on the table over and waited for her to fill it. The dark-skinned waitress smiled. “Need a menu?”
“Yes, but I’ll wait for my friends to get here. Thanks.”
The woman nodded and walked away.
Mattie sipped her coffee, the bitterness seeping into her taste buds, instantly waking them. She wasn’t used to the local java. The liquid caffeine gave you the jitters as soon as
you drank it.
“Dr. Wentworth?” a deep, compelling voice asked.
Mattie looked up. “Yes,” was all she could muster, spellbound by the pair of striking, brandy-colored eyes of a tall, well-built man standing before her.
She swallowed to clear her throat.
“I was told that you might need a guide.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. “Here are my credentials. I’ve been a wilderness guide for over ten years, and I know the area.”
Uncharacteristically, Mattie found herself tongue-tied. She had never seen such a gorgeous man in her life. His hair was a rich chocolate brown, cut short on the sides, slightly longer on top. His nose was straight and his features were perfectly proportioned. His lips were strong, firm, and the color of deep Mediterranean coral. From the stubble on his chin, it looked as if he hadn’t shaven in a few days. The effect gave him a rugged, outdoorsy appeal. The only thing less than perfect on the man was a thin, white scar running from his nose to his lip. She wondered how he’d gotten it. An occupational hazard perhaps?
To fight the urge to sigh, she unfolded the paper and studied his certifications. The résumé was impressive if it was on the up-and-up. “You know this area well then, Mr., ah…” She scanned the sheet of paper, then returned her attention to him. “Kane.”
He nodded.
His eyes mesmerized Mattie. She blinked and hauled her mind back on track. “Do you think you could be ready to leave later this afternoon? We want to get started right away cataloging plants. We’ve been prepared since we arrived four days ago. The guide we’d originally commissioned died the day we landed in Manu.”
His arched brows drew together. “I’d need to get my own supplies rounded up, but I could probably be ready by then. Could you tell me the name of the guide who died?”
“Yes, he was a local man. Chaz Juntas.”
Pain crossed his features.
“You knew him?”
“Yes. He was a good man. We’d gone into the Amazon a number of times together.”
“I’m sorry.” Mattie looked down at her cup, noting her shaky hands. Was it the reaction to Travis Kane or was the dream still working on her nerves?
“Have you rented trucks for the trip yet?” His question had her glancing back at him. “If not, I could see what I can do. How many are in your party?”
“Six altogether. Two men and four women.”
His eyes narrowed. “Four women?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?” Was the guy a chauvinist?
He inhaled, then shook his head. “No, no problem. What about the trucks? Have you got them lined up then?”
“Yes. The supplies are already loaded too. Chaz had arranged it all before we’d arrived.”
“Where are they now?”
“At the edge of town. The authorities have been keeping an eye on them to make sure nothing is stolen.”
“I’ll meet you there around two o’clock. Be ready to move out immediately. I want to get a few hours’ travel in before we need to set up camp.”
“We’ll be ready, Mr. Kane.”
He turned and walked away.
Mattie sighed.
Had she been too quick to hire him? Had the man’s qualifications won her over or did his looks and physique have her practically begging him to guide them? She wasn’t sure—and even if she were, she didn’t care. They had a sober guide who didn't give her the creeps and that was all that mattered right now.
Chapter Three
Travis jammed gear into his bag for the trip then dropped his grandfather’s journal on top. The map was tucked securely in his boot and would remain there until they drew closer to the so-called burial site. No one would be the wiser.
He’d asked around about Chaz before picking up provisions and had learned he’d been found dead with a small puncture wound to the neck. It had looked like a dart or syringe injection—nothing less than murder. His friend’s death gave Travis pause. Chaz hadn’t had an enemy in the world. So his death made no sense unless it had something to do with the job he was hired for.
Thank God the authorities were looking into his friend’s death. They had a tendency to look the other way when a local came up dead, but Chaz was a well-known and well-respected guide, which made his murder all the more bizarre.
Travis still couldn’t believe how easily he’d convinced Dr. Wentworth to allow him to take her team into the jungle. It’d been simpler than he thought it would be, though dealing with her clear interest in him might become a problem. He was here to find Templar artifacts, not draw anyone’s attention, especially that of a woman.
The blonde wasn’t his type anyway. Her pale skin suggested she didn't spend much time in the sun or she protected her skin as if she didn't, and frankly, she was a little undeveloped on top for his taste. The Clark Kent glasses did nothing for her either. Typical scientific nerd.
Now, the waitress who had smiled at him on entering the dining area was another story altogether. She had the hourglass figure he preferred, and she probably wouldn’t expect anything from him in the morning. If he weren’t leaving in a few hours, he’d search her out later for an evening of wine, song, and some wild sex—something to tide him over for his trip into the Amazon.
But it wasn’t in the cards. With any luck, he’d catch her on the return trip.
Travis inhaled and glanced back at Cedric’s journal. He hadn’t gotten a chance to look at it yet but hoped for the opportunity in the evenings while on guard. Sleep had always been a problem for him while in the jungle. His responsibility for the safety of the people he guided made it hard to relax. Too many things could happen without his constant watch, especially with so many women in the party.
Besides, the diary was probably nothing important. But then, he was here in Manu because of his grandfather. Who knew what else he could find out through the man’s writings?
Travis closed and secured the bag, then tossed it over his shoulder. It was getting late. He needed to get the group lined up and ready to move so they could get to their first campsite before dark.
He stepped out of the reserve outpost and headed for the trucks.
Travis wasn’t concerned about the team’s supplies. Chaz knew what was needed for a trip such as this. He was sure his friend had secured more than enough for two weeks in the rain forest.
On his way, Travis was pleased to see the crew standing next to the trucks. At least he knew Dr. Wentworth could follow orders.
As if she’d read his thoughts, she turned, her eyes growing larger, more intense as she stared at him with a fire that made his step falter. Heat raced up his back. What the hell? Talk about uncomfortable. He wasn’t a species of plant or animal for her to study—he was a man on a mission—one that could change his life forever.
Travis scanned the group. Five out of six pairs of eyes centered on him.
Great. He felt like a teacher in a room full of kindergarteners on their first day of school. He had to concentrate on keeping them safe, not babysit them, all the while hunting for treasure. Not an easy feat in itself. Then he’d have to figure out how to smuggle the artifacts out of the country without getting caught by the authorities.
Until that time, Travis needed to set ground rules for the journey. “I’m Travis Kane. I’ll be your guide on this trip. First, I want to enforce some guidelines. Women will be sharing tents. As will the men. There will be no exceptions to this rule, and I don’t want anyone leaving camp without my knowledge.” Travis looked from one pair of eyes to the next. “It’s dangerous in the jungle. Anything could happen. You can minimize your risk by following my instructions. If you pay attention and keep your eyes open, we’ll all come back in one piece, with a new respect for nature. Understood?”
“Of course, Mr. Kane. We're all adults and able to follow directions without you pandering to most of our feminine sides.” Dr. Wentworth’s tone pitched slightly. “We’ll do our best to stay alive, but that was our initial plan all along
.”
Travis had to give her props for having the courage to stand up to him. “Good. So long as we understand each other. Let’s get on the road. I’d like the men to drive. It’s rough terrain and we don’t want to get caught up along the way.”
“And naturally men are better behind the wheel?” Dr. Wentworth turned and headed for the truck to the rear of the caravan, her fast gait indicating what she thought of his suggestion.
Inadvertently, his gaze locked onto her backside clad in tight-fitting khakis, and as if seeing a woman’s ass for the first time, his groin twitched.
Frustrated with his body’s betrayal, Travis hopped into the lead truck. If he didn’t stay focused on his goals, on keeping the team alive while finding landmarks on the map, it was going to be a long, miserable two weeks for him.
*
Mattie plopped down into the seat of the cab, fisting her hands at her side. She’d been surprised by her lack of control. She’d never been so angry.
So Travis Kane was good-looking and had a body most men would envy. That didn’t give him the right to make her and her female associates feel inferior to their male counterparts. She was tired of men like him spouting their imaginary superiority to women like the snobbish rich did over the working class.
Hunky or not, the man proved himself a chauvinist. Men were better drivers. Right. She’d never had a traffic violation. Could he say the same?
Mattie shoved him and his sexist attitude to the back of her mind and stared out the side window. Excitement bubbled inside her. They were headed into the Amazon and nothing and no one was going to ruin this for her. She’d been waiting for this opportunity for far too long.
Drew Hendrix jumped into the driver’s seat, then turned and smiled at her. “If it makes you feel any better, I know women can drive every bit as well as men.”
She returned his grin and rubbed his arm affectionately. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
When the truck in front of them jarred forward, Drew threw the truck into gear. Mattie held on to the dash as the front tire hit a pothole and bounced. This was going to be rough travel, but she didn’t care.
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