Five minutes into the ride, Mattie rolled down the side window, the oppressive heat causing sweat to bead on her back, her shirt sticking uncomfortably to her upper body. She’d known the jungle would be humid, but the reality was beyond stifling. Spending four days in the hotel hadn’t prepared her for the temperatures.
Missouri summers were hot, but not the hard to breathe kind that she was experiencing now.
Mattie needed to think of something cold—something to keep her mind off the sizzling heat. Like her meeting with Martin Glass earlier that day. Talk about an arctic blast. She’d never seen anyone so angry. He’d literally given her the chills. Thank God she’d chosen to pass on his help. The whole trip would have been spent watching her back and everyone else’s.
Travis Kane might be a sexist pig but at least she felt safe with him.
“Sure is hot.” Drew’s observation drew her back to him.
Mattie smiled and pried her shirt from her chest, fanning the material to cool herself. “Yes it is.”
“What do you think of our new guide, besides his chauvinistic tendencies?”
Her colleague’s question had Mattie looking ahead at the lead truck that had turned onto the cutout trail into the rain forest. “His credentials were impressive.”
“I wasn’t talking credentials, Mattie. You have to admit, the man’s good-looking.”
Mattie snorted. “I hadn’t noticed.” It was a lie, but she didn’t want Drew to think she was anything but professional on this trip.
“Do you think he’s straight?”
Mattie had known Drew for three years now. He was one of the kindest men she’d ever met, and a year into their friendship she’d learned he was gay. He had a huge heart and had been there for her through all the snickers and stares she’d had to endure at Washington University.
“With his attitude toward women, I’d say he’s straight.”
“Yeah, I thought as much.”
Mattie rubbed his arm again. “He wouldn’t be good enough for you anyway, Drew. You deserve someone who’d appreciate your sweet generosity. I doubt Mr. Kane has a caring bone in his body.” Once she’d made the statement, she remembered the look on their guide’s face when she’d told him about Chaz. Learning of his colleague’s death had hurt him deeply. Hmm. Maybe there was more to Travis Kane than what he showed on the outside.
Mattie mentally shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. She was here to work, not socialize. She’d gone that route once and had paid dearly.
The truck lumbered onto the trail. Mattie’s eyes grew huge as she took in the sights and sounds of the Amazon. Parallel to the road, dense, colorful foliage in shades of greens, magentas, and browns marked the rugged terrain. The verdure was like nothing she’d ever seen before, though she did recognize a few of the tropical plants. Mahogany, rubber, kapok trees dotted the hillside, along with vegetation Mattie had only seen in books. She couldn’t wait to get out in the middle of the jungle and start cataloging them. Finally she was going to use her degree for something other than teaching.
* * * *
Travis stood back and inspected the two ten-by-ten foot tents centering the campsite. Torches edged the perimeter every six feet to light the area and keep predators away. A long table was placed adjacent to the tents and would be filled with people once they sat to eat. The fare was packaged food that was easy to store and prepare in the wilds of the jungle.
He hadn’t seen Dr. Wentworth since she’d disappeared into a tent with her female colleagues to set up their cots. She was pissed at him because of their encounter earlier that day and that was okay. He wasn’t here to win any awards for popularity. He was here to keep them alive until they returned to Manu.
“How long you been doing this?” a tall blond man asked, walking toward him. He was the one person who’d shown no interest in him when they’d first met.
Travis wasn’t much on small talk, especially with people he didn’t know. “Over ten years.”
The man stuck out his hand. “James Franklin.”
Travis placed his palm in the other man’s, unsure of what to say in response.
“I can tell you’re from the US. How did you come to be a guide in South America?”
He shrugged. “Long story. I wouldn’t want to bore you.”
“I doubt that’d happen. Now, if we were talking botany, most would compare it to paint drying.”
Travis laughed. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Yes it is. But you … you’re like Indiana Jones. No one in their right mind would find that dull.”
Why did all Americans compare him to that character? Hadn't he just referred to it himself? He’d never done any of the things Harrison Ford did in the Spielberg flicks. If he’d had the perilous adventures Jones had had, he’d have given up the profession long ago.
Travis glanced at the tents. The women were filing out one by one. He watched for Dr. Wentworth, who came out last. She had removed the chambray button-down shirt from earlier. Now she wore a snug-fitting white T-shirt.
He took in a breath. She was larger on top than he’d first thought. Her hair was pulled off her neck, fastened in place by some sort of clip. Her slender neck looked welcoming, enough to make his fingers tingle.
What the hell was he thinking? She was unappealing in so many ways. Besides, he needed to concentrate on the job, not on some woman who obviously considered herself his equal in every way.
By the time Travis had convinced himself he was back on track, everyone had arranged themselves around the table.
Before taking a seat himself, he grabbed his backpack and retrieved some beef jerky and bottled water. Unfortunately, the only space available was at the end, next to her.
He sat down, determined to ignore her and everyone else. Best not to get too friendly. Something he’d learned long ago. Galen, Chaz, and Hunt Montgomery were his only friends and Chaz was now gone. The job he’d chosen wasn’t conducive to getting to know people. Moving from one remote jungle to another made that impossible unless you were another guide in the area.
“Is that all you’re going to eat?” Dr. Wentworth’s question drew his attention back to her.
She’d removed her glasses. Travis was struck by how beautiful her eyes were—a greenish-blue that reminded him of one of the vivid colors in the plumes of a wild peacock.
“A light meal in this heat is much better. You might consider that.” Travis glanced at her tray, at an unappetizing piece of meat he couldn’t even name. Prepackaged meals filled you up but were virtually tasteless. His food was much more palatable and easier on the digestion.
She glanced down at her plate. “Could I have a piece of that?” She pointed to the jerky in his hand.
Travis tore the slab of dried meat in half and handed her a piece.
“Thanks.” She took a bite.
Travis found himself fascinated by the movement of her mouth as she chewed. Her lips reminded him of plump, juicy strawberries.
He almost choked on the meat going down his throat.
Get your shit together, Travis.
No woman had ever distracted him from anything. Hell if he was going to allow one to mess with something that could completely change his life now.
Chapter Four
Mattie couldn’t sleep. It was too hot and uncomfortable on the creaky cot—and the noise, from the buzzing of insects to the calls of nocturnal animals, seemed deafening. Then to add to the mix, the strange tingling sensation had started again.
She fanned her face with her hand and glanced around the tent. They’d gone to bed an hour earlier and from what she could tell, everyone was asleep but her.
Maybe a walk outside would cool her down and help her sleep.
Mattie worked her way out of the mosquito netting covering her cot and pulled on the khaki shorts from the tent floor she’d worn earlier. Then she slipped on a pair of hiking boots. Before leaving the tent, she rubbed her arms and legs with insect repellent.
&n
bsp; As quietly as she could, she unzipped the flap and exited.
Outside, Mattie re-zipped the door and glanced around camp. No one seemed to be up.
Was she the only one who found it impossible to sleep? It was becoming abundantly clear she wasn’t cut out for the jungle. Maybe she should have gone somewhere else to lick her wounds and not chosen to lead the team here—picked someplace less noisy, for starters. The sounds of nature echoed all around her, animals that had no qualms about waking the dead.
“Are you all right?” a deep voice from behind her asked.
Mattie jumped. Travis Kane had a gravelly tone of voice that sent tremors through a body—at least hers.
She turned to face him. “I’m fine.”
Her heart skipped a beat when her gaze landed at the V of his shirt. He’d unbuttoned two of the top buttons, revealing a light sprinkling of dark, springy hair.
“Having trouble sleeping?”
Yes, but she’d have even more trouble now.
Mattie swallowed, her throat going dry. “It’s quite noisy in the jungle.” What a stupid thing to say. Everyone knew that. He probably thought she was an idiot. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” She shifted from one foot to the other.
“I’m making sure all is secure before I settle in for the night.”
Mattie was about to reply when an insect landed on her head and got caught up in her hair. The thing buzzed crazily trying to escape. Startled, she slapped at her scalp and spun around, trying to shake the disgusting crawler loose.
“Stand still.” Travis took her by the shoulders. “I’ll get it out.”
Mattie stopped as her body came into contact with his. He gently removed the insect from a lock of hair. Somehow he must have washed up because he smelled of soap, a nice scent that she drew in. Nothing about the man’s physical appearance turned her off. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for his personality. Fortunately, that in itself was enough of a deterrent.
He backed away, his gaze locked onto hers. The torchlight gave his eyes a brandy in a snifter look.
“Can I ask how you got that scar?” As soon as the question came out of her mouth, she regretted asking it. He didn’t look all that thrilled to tell her either.
“I’m sorry. That was too personal a question.”
“No. That’s all right. It was a car accident when I was a teenager. Hit the steering wheel. My eyetooth cut through it.”
Mattie caught herself before she reached out to touch his lip. “Does it still hurt?”
He shook his head.
A silence hovered around them. Mattie had no idea what to say next, caught up in his intense stare. “I guess I’d better try and get some sleep.”
“Yes, you should. We’ll be starting out early in the morning. Good night, Dr. Wentworth.”
“Please, call me Mattie.”
“Good night, Mattie.”
“Good night.”
She turned and headed for her tent, her skin overheated at the way he’d said her name. It had never sounded so sensual on a man’s lips. No way was she going to be able to sleep now. Not with her body surging as if it’d never felt so alive, and images of Travis Kane’s well-formed chest flashing through her mind.
*
Mattie entered the tent and Travis released a ragged breath. Dr. Wentworth had the sexiest legs he’d ever seen in his life—long and lean—lengthy enough to wrap around a man twice. The thought in itself had his cock vying for special attention.
Damned woman.
What was so different about her that made his body react so uncontrollably? It was starting to piss him off.
He stalked to his backpack and opened the flap, then reached for his grandfather’s journal. Maybe the book would help him forget Mattie Wentworth existed, or at least help calm his libido.
He sat on a folding chair and opened the journal to the first page. The words “Dear Travis” made his jaw drop.
After recovering from the shock, he flipped through the pages and realized that the whole book consisted of letters written to him by Cedric—from what he could surmise, once a month for the last four years of his life.
Why? The man didn’t even know him. Why spend years writing notes to a grandson he didn’t know a thing about?
Travis leafed back to the first page.
Dear Travis,
Your mother wrote to tell me that you were in Colombia. She’s worried. Afraid for your safety. According to her sources, you’ve done some questionable things for money. I regret that you and I haven’t stayed in contact. I wanted to help Lucinda mold you into the man I know you can be, but she was too busy messing up her own life to guide yours. When you were ten, six months after your mother married William Jackson, I begged her to allow me to take you into my home. I saw how you had changed, how angry you’d become, but she refused. Her selfishness cost us all so much. I wish I had been able to teach you everything I had learned about being a man of honor in my seventy-five years of life.
Travis snapped the journal shut and closed his eyes.
Flashes of the past came back to haunt him. Jackson raising his hand to him. Travis hiding the bruises from everyone. That had been the worst seven-year period of his life—and the longest marriage for his mother.
Cedric had known about his stepfather’s abuse, had actually tried to take him away from it. But Lucinda had refused to allow him to—just another reason for Travis to hate her. Funny how she was concerned about his safety on paper but never cared about it when he was under her roof. He could never forgive her for that.
She had to have known what his stepfather had been doing to him. His personality had changed dramatically. He went from being a happy, outgoing child to hiding in his room for days on end while Lucinda enjoyed her cocktail parties and events she’d share with her all-important husband. Travis was left cowering in his room, waiting for the next time something went wrong in William Jackson’s life and the man took it out on him.
Travis pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and looked at it. How many times had he reprimanded himself for allowing the memories to creep in since Cedric’s death? He was a grown man and knew that dwelling on the past changed nothing. Best thing to do was push it away and go on with life.
He flicked the cigarette into the jungle and glanced at Mattie’s tent. When he’d studied her face, he’d seen a glimpse of something in her eyes—something broken inside her as well. What, he didn’t know, but for some reason he wanted to. Maybe there was abuse in her childhood? Maybe that’s why he’d been so drawn to the woman—he could see in her the same kind of pain he’d endured.
Could he be growing soft in his old age?
He snorted at the notion. Travis Kane soft? No frickin’ way.
He didn’t care about anyone or anything but finding the Templar treasure and selling it to the highest bidder.
A rustling noise past the perimeter brought Travis to attention. Senses on the alert, he glanced sharply around.
With an instinct he’d acquired over the past ten years, he grabbed the knife inside his boot and moved closer to one of the torches, sure he’d seen something move.
He swallowed hard as anxiety built in his belly.
Slowly he drew toward the camp’s border, his heart thundering in his chest.
This was the first time on his watch that fire hadn’t deterred jungle predators from the campsite. Most night creatures hated the light.
A list of predatory animals ran through his mind, the worst of which could take him out in less than a minute.
Maybe he should have grabbed the .45 out of his knapsack. Too bad it was too late for what he should have done.
He inched toward the torchlight, holding a death grip on the knife.
Sweat ran in rivulets down his back, causing his shirt to stick.
The rustling came again, this time right next to the perimeter.
Christ.
Travis sucked in a ragged breath and edged closer, his gaze homed in on the area from where
the movement came.
He raised his Bowie, ready to strike.
As he crept in, a macaw flew past him.
The breath he’d held in check came rushing out and the tension in every muscle of his body relaxed.
Travis shook his head and laughed. Talk about wound tight. Maybe he was getting old—losing his nerve. Or maybe being so close to the Templar treasure made him more anxious than he’d usually be in the jungle. Never had his nerves gotten the better of him before, even when he’d led poachers into the Amazon. That in itself was worthy of anxiety, yet it hadn’t created as much tension in him as he experienced now.
Then there was Mattie Wentworth, the only woman he’d ever given a second thought to. Why, he didn’t know. She was the polar opposite of himself. Dr. Wentworth was uptight, opinionated, and vocal about those opinions. Far from the ideal woman, and yet she managed to work her way back into his thoughts when he didn’t want her there.
Again, he found himself staring at the tent she inhabited with three associates—women he couldn’t recall a thing about.
Had Mattie been able to fall asleep through the wild symphony around them? Or was she awake, wondering what he was doing?
You’re losing it, man. Remember your mother? How she used men like disposable razors?
The thought sobered him immediately.
Women were all the same. Like Lucinda. They thought only of their needs, and cared little about collateral damage along the way.
Angry with himself, he pushed everything aside and decided to check the perimeter one last time before turning in, something he had some control over. The past, he didn’t.
Chapter Five
Mattie opened her eyes and stretched her legs across the cot, one of her feet getting tangled in the sheet at the bottom.
Talk about a restless night, the noise and heat only part of the reason she’d had trouble sleeping. Travis Kane had filled her thoughts and stirred her body. Images of his chest and hypnotizing eyes had made it impossible to think of anything else. He was like a Grecian statue, all hard planes and sinewy muscle, nothing like Gerald Elders. Gerald was thin and soft around the middle, and much older than Travis.
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