Make Mine a Marine (28 page)

He just wished he didn't feel as if he'd have to go to hell and back before he got Sarah and the girls safely home.

Chapter
Three

"You see, Hawk?" Sarah's smile turned into a gloat of satisfaction as she watched the girls sitting around the campfire, enthralled with Luis Salazar's tales about the legend of Las Lagumas. "And you were worried."

Hawk grunted in response without looking at her. His gaze continued its slow survey, a seemingly endless sweep back and forth that he'd started when they left El Espanto that morning and maintained even now when they were settling into camp for the night. She couldn't tell if he was studying the people on the expedition, or the myriad plays of shadows and light in the dense vegetation of the jungle surrounding them.

Every now and then he stared into space, as though he relied on unseen eyes in the back of his head to give him input. When his dark eyes glazed over like that, Sarah looked around, too, spooked by his preternatural awareness. She tried to see what he was seeing, tried to feel what he felt. Yet she never saw anything unusual beyond a conversation among their guides or the darting movement of leaves in the undergrowth when an unseen animal passed.

All day, she'd bumped along in silence beside Hawk as their caravan of three trucks jostled over a rutted excuse for a road on their overnight journey to the ruins of Las Lagumas. Mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds raised itchy welts on the side of her neck and on her bare forearms. When she tried to make a joke about her discomfort, Hawk dug inside his duffel bag without comment and handed her a stinky salve that she suspected would deter people and small animals, as well as keep the bugs away. The salve took care of the itching, but even her sincere gratitude couldn't put a dent in Hawk's stone-faced silence.

By nightfall tomorrow, they'd be camped outside the excavation site. But her growing anticipation at touring the uncovered catacombs and pyramid and maybe even discovering an artifact herself was tempered by Hawk's strange behavior.

She'd volunteered to ride on the last truck with him, since none of Salazar's men seemed comfortable around him. She didn't blame them. Hawk towered over them in stature. And today, in addition to his ever-present Apache-style headband, he'd dressed in lightweight jungle fatigues tucked into black military boots. He needed only a couple of swatches of greasepaint across his cheekbones to look like a guerilla soldier who'd just emerged from jungle combat.

"And now I turn the details of the legend over to Antonio." Luis Salazar excused himself and slipped outside the center of the circle. His cousin, Antonio Robles, continued the story of the long-dead king with a lot of gusto and very little fact.

"King Meczaquatl was a second-born son," said Antonio. Sarah tried to ignore Hawk's disturbing presence and concentrate on Antonio's version of history. "Because he could not inherit his father's wealth, he sailed across the sea to Tenebrosa, conquered the pitiful native resistance, and created his own kingdom."

Sarah shook her head. Tomorrow morning she'd have to remind the girls to reread their textbooks and not rely on Antonio's romanticized view of history to learn about ancient cultures.

"Señorita McCormick." She heard her name an instant before she felt the warm grip on her shoulder. She spun her head around, startled, but quickly smiled when she recognized Luis Salazar. "If I could talk to you for a moment?"

Sarah forced her breathing back to its normal rate and stood, glancing over her shoulder at Hawk. "If you don't mind, I'm going for a short walk with…"

There was no need for polite excuses. An unnamed shadow deep in the jungle had captured Hawk's attention. Feelings of hurt warred with her temper. She'd been overlooked and taken for granted a number of times in her life. But today she'd fought past her natural reserve and gone out of her way to include Hawk as part of the group. She'd endured his silence and defended his right to be there with her presence.

And now he rewarded her with…with…
Damn the man, anyway, for ruining this trip!
Furious with herself for caring one way or the other what Hawk thought of her efforts, she linked her arm through Luis's and even allowed the older gentleman to pat her hand possessively with his own. Although his face had been weathered by the elements, Luis was nonetheless an attractive man, made more so by his old-world charm and deference to her as a lady. He guided Sarah outside their encampment, inquiring about her impressions of the journey thus far and going over the next day's schedule.

After they'd left the reach of the campfire's illumination, the thick canopy of jungle vegetation shut out the remaining twilight. Luis switched on a high-beam flashlight and escorted her along a hacked-out path to a tributary several yards beyond where she'd last seen their tents. Once in the clearing beside the water, he turned off the light and allowed her several moments to soak in the untamed beauty of greens and golds adorned by bright shots of red and orange where exotic flowers bloomed. A symphony of tree frogs and wild birds and animals she couldn't name enriched the sensory overload. She shut her eyes and imprinted the images in her mind, storing them away to savor over and over again.

"It is beautiful, no?" Luis asked, pride in his homeland evident in his voice.

Sarah looked at him and smiled. "Beautiful and unspoiled."

He tucked the flashlight under his arm, took both of her hands in his and bowed, brushing his lips across her knuckles. "We are glad to have such charming guests to share this with."

"The girls and I are glad to be here." Sarah clenched the muscles in her arms, torn between the desire to pull away from his unexpected familiarity and her schooling in good manners. The man was, after all, following the customs of his own country, not putting the moves on her.

Luis smiled down at her, the lines in his face crinkling all the way back to the silver-streaked black hair at his temples. "This man who is with you. Señor Hawk. He is not a teacher?"

This time Sarah did pull away. So this little evening walk had nothing to do with her. When would she learn? She would never be anything more than a means to an end with men. One of these days she would have to wise up, or give up and just accept her fate.

She stuck her hands in the pockets of her khaki shorts and told the story she had come up with to explain Hawk's presence. "He's a chaperon." Luis had asked that everyone speak in English to help his men improve their language skills. But he frowned as though the term was unfamiliar to him. "He's another adult, a parent figure, to help watch the girls."

"Colleen is his daughter?"

"No." Black hair and dark eyes formed the only resemblance between Hawk and Colleen. Sarah tried again. "He's helping me."

"I see." Luis grinned broadly and nodded. "He is your man."

"My man?" Understanding dawned and she hastened to correct him. "You mean my boyfriend? Oh, no. No."

The very idea was ludicrous! The idea that a man as worldly and mysterious as Hawk could be attracted to a plain brown mouse like her made her laugh. "He's not with me. He's just
…" Sarah stopped in midsentence. Exactly why was Hawk there? She couldn't explain that herself. But judging by the expectant look on Luis's face, she'd better come up with a darn good answer. She couldn't. "He's been here before. He wanted to come back."

"I see," he said simply. "Then Hawk is nothing to you?"

A distraction. A fascination. An unexplained mystery that frustrated her like an itch she couldn't reach.

"Nothing personal."

Luis's gaze shot back toward the path. Curious, Sarah looked, too, but saw nothing. Her guide's whole demeanor had changed in the space of a heartbeat. The easygoing charm of a man who enjoyed his siesta had been replaced by the alertness of a sharp-eyed animal, cornered and looking for options to escape. The elegant leisure of his movements took on a nervous edginess as he worked his jaw and curled and uncurled his fists at his sides.

"Is something wrong, señor?" she asked.

He went still at her question, staring at her as though her voice was intruding on his thoughts. In her next breath, the old Luis returned, save for the wariness that stayed in his cool brown eyes. He pressed his hand to her shoulder and squeezed her with a solicitous apology.

"Forgive me. I was fearful for a moment. You see, I imagined Señor Hawk to have a personal interest in you and the girls. I assumed he was protecting you."

"From what?"

Luis patted her arm and shook his head gravely. "Your girls are very pretty, no?"

Sarah nodded.

"One of my men, Martín de Vega, he is a skilled driver and knows his way through the jungle."

And his point was?

"Martín is also very much a ladies' man."

Sarah didn't bother to add that Luis also seemed to consider himself a ladies' man. She didn't like the implied threat in his words. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I will speak to him at once, remind him of his place. But you must be sure to keep your girls together. Do not let them stray alone. Ask Señor Hawk to help you keep them safe."

Stunned by the implication, Sarah made no comment.

"You can follow the path?" he asked, handing her his flashlight before moving toward camp.

Sarah nodded mutely and watched the leaves of the jungle swallow him up. She seethed with anger, unable to move, unable to find any scapegoat except herself. Luis might knowingly have hired some lecherous pedophile or rapist or God knew what kind of creep to work on his crew, but it was her fault they were there. Her fault the girls might be in danger. Her fault she didn't know how to read men. Her fault.

Hawk was right. She had no business coming to Tenebrosa. She should be grateful to Luis for at least giving her a concrete reason to stay away from the place. Hawk had yet to prove so helpful. She didn't want to alarm the girls, but she had better get back and make sure they understood the need to stay together with her or a friend at all times.

As she followed the trail of hand-cut leaves and branches along the jungle floor, she lifted her long braid from the natural valley between her breasts. With an annoying realization, she conceded that Hawk was right on at least one point. Wherever the weight of her hair touched her, she broke out in beads of sweat.

The unaccustomed heat only added to her aggravation with him. Silently cursing him with each step, she stalked back toward camp until a movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She froze in her tracks and swung the light to her right, catching the end of a green tail scurrying away into the underbrush.

And then, while she waited for her heart to settle back down out of her throat, she became aware of another sensation. A feather light cloak of awareness settled over her shoulders. Gentle as a caress, the unseen touch nevertheless chilled her with its unwavering intensity.

Drawn by some untapped sixth sense, Sarah slowly turned and shined her light over her shoulder. Hawk stood there, several paces behind her, looking at her. Looking into her. His dark eyes blazed with that unearthly light she'd seen back at the airport, and she was struck by the sensation that he knew what she'd been thinking. Knew how damning her thoughts had been.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." His voice vibrated across the distance, a bare whisper in the encroaching night.

"Are you following me?" He advanced on her, and Sarah involuntarily backed away as he quickly closed the distance with his long strides.

"Sarah!"

She jumped back from his hoarse command. The flashlight clattered to the ground, and her hair snagged on something behind her. She reached back to free her braid from its entanglement, and Hawk lunged forward.

"No!"

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. At the same instant, he reached into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a knife. Not a knife. A sword! A wicked, twelve-inch killing thing that glinted in the twilight.

He raised it above his head and swung it down with deadly force. Sarah screamed. She jerked her shoulder away from the sure blow and rammed into the brick wall of his chest. His arm trapped her there like a steel vise and lifted her clear off the ground. She pounded with her fists and kicked with her legs, pummeling for all she was worth, frantic with the knowledge that he would attack her, desperately frightened to realize how much bigger and stronger and unyielding he was than she.

"Sarah! It's over now. It's okay." Her feet touched the ground and his shoulders curved over her, blocking out the rest of the night.

His chest muffled her screams. Through her daze of panic she heard low-pitched reassurances crooning in her ear. The arm that had cinched her to him still held her just as tightly but he splayed his fingers and stroked up and down the side of her rib cage, soothing her like a frightened animal.

As the hazy grip of panic began to clear, she realized that she felt no pain. He hadn't stabbed her after all.

"What?" She gasped, gathering her composure as much as her breath. "Why?" Her senses returned and she remembered the knife. The big knife. She angled her head back because she could move no further and slapped at his shoulder. "What are you doing with a weapon like that here? It's stupid and dangerous—"

"That's better. I'd rather see you spitting mad than afraid." She wanted to stay angry with him. She wanted to vent her frustrations, but his unexpected teasing undid her. She stopped her tirade and noticed his mouth, mere inches from hers. Smiling.