In Too Deep (16 page)

“Only my pride,” he said with a wry grimace.

She regarded him disbelievingly.

“Really. It's nothing serious. I just twisted my ankle. I'll be fine in a minute.” Perspiration broke out across his brow. The sharp pain had diminished now to a steady, teeth-gnashing throb. He took a deep breath and stood up, unconsciously shifting all his weight to his left foot. A surprising wave of nausea washed over him. “Let's go.”

Cara was watching his face intently. “Sit down,” she ordered quietly.

“Come on, Cara. We don't have time for this.”

“Fine. Go. You're white as a sheet. You'll probably make it about two feet before you fall flat on your face. I think I'll just sit here and watch.” She sat down.

Irritation bubbled up inside him. He knew perfectly well she was right. He also knew they didn't have time to waste. Tentatively he took a step on his right foot. An agonizing pain soared through him. He clenched his fists, sucked in his breath and took another step on his good foot. Then another. The bad ankle gave way and he felt himself pitching forward. Cara was there to break his fall. She helped him to the very limb that had brought about the accident. He sank down and leaned his back against it, his whole body quivering from the strain. He closed his eyes.

“Let me see it,” Cara said.

“It's sprained, okay? There's no need for you to examine it.”

“Oh, will you just shut up and hold your leg still?” She put a restraining hand on his calf. His ankle hurt so badly, he couldn't even enjoy her touch. She untied his boot and gently removed it, then pulled off his sock. Rod didn't even want to look. He knew the ankle was already swollen. He didn't need Cara's cautious probing to make a diagnosis.

“It doesn't appear to be broken, thank God,” she murmured.

“I told you it was sprained.”

She reached for her backpack.

“What are you doing?”

“I have an elastic bandage in here. It may help.” With brisk efficiency, she opened the package and wrapped his ankle, while he stared in astonishment.

“You can close your mouth now,” she said finally, grinning at him. “Scottie insisted on thorough first-aid training, and Louise packs my supplies, I'm prepared for almost anything.”

She propped his leg up on their backpacks. “Keep this elevated. I have some painkillers if you want them.”

“I don't suppose you have a bottle of Scotch tucked in there instead,” he inquired hopefully.

“Afraid not.”

“Then skip it. We might as well have lunch. By the time we finish, I should be able to walk again.”

“Forget it. You're not putting any weight on that ankle today.”

“Cara, we don't have time for me to sit around babying this ankle. We have to get back to camp, dismantle everything and meet that plane.”

“Fine. I'll go. You can wait here, and when the pilot shows up, we'll come back for you.”

“Are you out of your mind? I'm not letting you take off through this jungle alone. You'll be lost in ten minutes.” He refused to voice his primary fear, that alone she would be a tempting target.

Her only response to his concern was to pluck a compass from her pack and hold it out in front of him. “Just point me in the right direction.”

“No.”

“Stop being such a stubborn, macho jerk.”

“When you stop being so bullheaded and irresponsible.”

Glare met glare. Neither of them backed down, but it was Cara who spoke next.

“It is not irresponsible to want to see that this job gets done. Just this once can't you rely on me for a change?”

He noted that she didn't deny being bullheaded. “You won't be able to do it if you're lost.”

“I'm not going to get lost,” she insisted, waving the compass under his nose.

Rod grabbed his own backpack and began yanking out the tins of food. He opened a can of tuna fish and handed it to Cara. “Eat. We'll discuss it after lunch.”

“There's nothing to discuss.”

“Eat.” His voice rose ominously. Cara regarded him mutinously, but she took the tuna.

As they ate, Rod tried frantically to think of an alternative course of action. He didn't think they should be separated, not with just one gun for protection. He was also forced to admit that there was no way he could walk any distance on his ankle at least for another twenty-four hours, if then. Despite his considerable imagination and experience, he couldn't think of anything better than Cara's plan.

He sighed heavily. “We'll make a deal.”

Her eyes lit at once with interest. “What?”

“If my ankle's no better in the morning, you can go on.”

“But we'll lose half a day.”

“In the morning, Cara.”

She directed a piercing look straight into his eyes, but when his determination didn't falter, she nodded.

“Now would you come here?” he suggested.

“What for?”

He grinned at her immediately suspicious demeanor. “Scared?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, then?”

“We made an agreement,” she accused. “This is going to be a strictly professional relationship.”

“Did I say a single thing to suggest I had anything else in mind?” he said innocently.

“I don't trust you.”

He shook his head sorrowfully. “Not a good basis for a
professional relationship,
princess.”

She frowned at the deliberate taunt and stepped to his side. “Yes?”

“Closer.”

With obvious reluctance, she stooped down. Rod felt only a fleeting instant of guilt as he captured her head and drew her closer still for a long, satisfying kiss. Her struggle was astonishingly halfhearted, her capitulation complete. But when he released her, she instantly began sputtering with indignation.

“You promised!”

He grinned. “Too late to protest, princess. You kissed me back. Besides, the temptation was entirely too great. I couldn't possibly resist, especially in my weakened condition.” He tried to sound pitiful. She didn't appear to buy it.

“Your weakened condition!” She hooted. “Give me a break. Your hormones would probably be active in the midst of an earthquake. A piddly little ankle injury isn't going to keep you in check.”

He laughed. “If you know that, then it wasn't very clever of you to get so close, was it?”

“Rod Craig, you are the most maddening man I have ever known in my life.” Despite her tone, he could have sworn her lips were twitching with laughter.

“I don't doubt it. That's precisely why you can't resist me.”

The hint of laughter died. Her eyebrows rose at least a half inch. “Can't resist you?” she growled. “I'll show you how irresistible you are.”

She whirled around and stomped off, Rod's laughter following her. He knew she wouldn't stay away long. She'd forgotten her compass and her water and her backpack. No matter how infuriated she was with him, she wouldn't be foolish enough to leave without those.

When two hours had passed, though, and she still hadn't returned, he began to get nervous. He dragged the last of his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit it. His fingers trembled ever so slightly.

Damn! Why had he insisted on baiting her? Probably because he enjoyed seeing the way her blue eyes sparkled with indignation, the way her chin jutted out defiantly in her refusal to back down. Her spirited responses entranced him. But this time... this time what if they'd gotten her in trouble? She could be lost, or hurt, or someone could be stalking her, waiting to attack. The images were driving him crazy.

He dragged himself to a long, sturdy branch and began chopping at it with his machete. It was an awkward process from a sitting position. When it finally came free, he tested it to see if it would support his weight. He stood slowly and balanced himself against the makeshift cane. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.

With halting, painful steps he began his search. His heart pounded dully in his chest. What ifs tormented his thoughts. He tried to remind himself that Cara was the most amazingly resourceful woman he'd ever met. She was a survivor. No matter what had happened, she would have kept a cool, rational head. He reminded himself of all that over and over again.

It didn't help. He kept seeing her frightened and alone, and all because of him and his deliberately provocative goading.

He struggled on, easily noting the route she'd taken because of the trampled brush. She couldn't be lost. Surely even an amateur like Cara could have found her way simply by backtracking over the same trail. So where the hell was she? A shiver of dread ran down his spine.

When he first heard the rustling of leaves, he thought it was only a monkey swinging overhead. Even so, he paused where he was and waited, his senses alert. The noise increased, moving closer. Then Cara burst through the undergrowth, her face flushed, her hat askew. A relief as profound as anything he'd ever experienced rushed through him. He held out his one free arm and without a moment's hesitation she ran into his embrace. Either she'd forgiven him or she was terrified.

“Oh, Rod.” The words came out in breathless gasps. His pulse raced.

“What is it?” he demanded at once, his heart lodged in his throat. “Are you all right? Is someone after you? Dammit, Cara, if anyone's hurt you, I'll kill them. I swear I will.”

He felt her narrow shoulders began to shake, and her whole fragile body trembled in his arms. His imagination ran wild. Guilt rampaged through him. He tightened his embrace and tried to soothe her. His comforting caresses only seemed to set off more violent trembling.

“Oh, princess, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. I would have died myself rather than let anything happen to you. Please, it's going to be okay. You're with me now, and I promise I won't let anything hurt you ever again.”

“Keep going.”

His heartbeat slowed at the softly spoken words. “Keep going?” he repeated suspiciously. Her held her away from him and got his first good look at her expression. She was laughing, howling, in fact. Big tears were rolling from radiant eyes filled with mirth.

“You're okay, aren't you?” he said cautiously, just in case it was only a hysterical reaction and she really had been hurt.

“Disappointed?”

He dropped his hand to his side and scowled at her accusingly. “Of course, I'm not disappointed, though I am very tempted to wring your neck. You scared the hell out me.”

“Serves you right.”

He thought about her charge. “Probably,” he admitted finally. “Now that you've gotten even, would you mind explaining what you were so upset about when you came tearing back here?”

“I wasn't upset. I was excited.” He could read her enthusiasm in her eyes and in that eager-to-get-going stance. “Wait until you see what I found.”

“What?”

“I'm not going to tell you. You have to see it for yourself. Do you think you can walk a little way? It's not far.”

He took her hand. “To see what put that look in your eyes, I'll manage.”

Fortunately, they didn't need to travel more than a half a mile or so. Suddenly they emerged into an area that had been partially cleared and he saw at once what had left her breathless. It was an archaeological site, one he knew from his maps and from talking with Rafael had never been reported. Even without Rafael's expertise, he recognized this as a stunning find, one that should have drawn major attention.

At least three pyramids had been somewhat exposed, along with a number of smaller structures. None were as towering as the Temple of the Inscriptions at Palenque, but the detailed panels of carvings were every bit as spectacular and the scope rivaled what he'd read of the Mayan city of El Mirador now being excavated in Guatemala.

“Isn't it incredible?” Cara enthused. “I couldn't believe it. I've been climbing over the site for the past two hours. Why didn't Rafael mention this place?”

Rod shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe he doesn't know about it.”

“How can that be? Surely the archaeologists stay on top of what sites are being worked.”

“I would think so. I think there's some sort of procedure for registering them with the National Institute of Anthropology and History in Mexico City.”

Her expression sobered at once. “Something's bothering you, isn't it?”

“You've already put your finger on it. A site like this,” he said slowly. “Why wouldn't Rafael know about it?”

He approached the closest pyramid and ran his fingers across the surface of the stone. It was gray and pockmarked. The ravages of time. And yet...

He leaned down for a closer look, and his lips tightened. There were scars here that hadn't been made by nature. Pieces of a puzzle suddenly appeared and fell into place.

“What is it?” Cara asked.

“I think I've just figured out why someone's out to get us.”

“I don't understand. What do these pyramids have to do with us?”

“Don't you see? They don't give a hoot about the long-range ecological disadvantages of the dam or even the principle of destroying the Mayan ruins. This—” he waved his arm in an all-encompassing gesture “—this is what they were worried about. They didn't want an outsider in the area even making a study. They were afraid we'd stumble across this site.”

“So what? I would have thought they'd use this as another argument against the dam.”

“They would if it had ever been reported, if they truly cared about saving the ruins.”

“Rod, will you get to the point!”

“Can't you tell, Cara? Feel this,” he said. He took her hand and rubbed it over the face of the stone. “The carvings haven't just worn away or broken away. Someone stumbled across this and decided there was more to be gained by keeping it a secret. They've been systematically looting it for who knows how long. They've probably been slipping across the border into Guatemala with the relics for months now.”