Stolen Chances (19 page)

She was nervous. Unsure how to react around him after announcing yesterday that she wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, then all but jumping his bones in that bathroom last night. Warmth spread through his chest as they pulled away from the beach and he relaxed against the bouncing rig. She still wanted him. It was just freaking her out.

Something in his chest squeezed tight at that knowledge, and for the first time since coming down here, he realized exactly what had been missing from his life all these long, empty years.

Her.

He wasn’t here for revenge. He hadn’t come for restitution or to finish things for Colin. He didn’t even care about that stupid relic. He’d come for her. The minute Patrick had called him and told him what this was all about, he’d hopped on a plane, hoping—no,
needing
to see her. And a meaningless fling wasn’t going to do it for him anymore. He wanted her. Back in his life. The way she should have been years ago.

The muscles in his chest condensed, squeezing all the air out of his lungs, and panic filled the space left behind. But the thought of her, of last night, of the sounds she’d made and the way she’d held him close…they eased the pain until only sweet warmth remained.

He rubbed a hand against his chest, and knew in the silence that Drummer had been right. He’d never gotten over her. He was never going to
be
over her. She was it for him. The one and only. And yeah, he was emotionally fucked up in a lot of ways, and he’d probably screw this up before the end, but he had to try. He couldn’t go back to living his life the way it had been before: empty, lonely, nothing without her in it.

He turned his head and peered into the truck. Smiled at the way she avoided looking his way. Twisting back, he rested his head against the glass and felt a lightness inside him he hadn’t felt in years.

Nine, to be exact.

Somehow, he just had to find a way to make her realize he was exactly what she needed too.

M
aren dove into her work, needing the escape. She spent her first few days back at camp helping the rest of the team clean up the site. Tropical storm Harvey had done a number on the trees and beach, but luckily their huts were in okay shape.

The team was happy and relieved to have her and Thad back. Lisa had hugged her so tight, Maren was pretty sure she’d cracked a rib. Her father had even given her the day off to recuperate after their experience, but Maren hadn’t wanted that. She needed to work and keep her mind busy.

She tried not to let his lack of emotion over her experience affect her, but it did. No wonder her mother wanted nothing to do with him. But what really burned her was his declaration that she must have been seeing things in that cenote. An earthquake, he’d told her, not a bomb. She’d obviously been imagining things. But what were the odds an earthquake and a tropical storm would hit at the same time? And what about the woman who’d attacked them during the storm?

She knew what she’d seen, dammit.

It also didn’t help that her emotions were all over the map. Not simply because her father kept downplaying her concerns, but because being near Thad, remembering how he’d felt against her bare skin—what they’d
done
in that bathtub—was messing with her head.

Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. She
knew
better. At least he hadn’t been hounding her since they’d returned to camp. He’d obviously gotten what he wanted, and he was moving on. She should be relieved by that fact—and thankful she hadn’t actually had sex with the man—but for some reason, her mood was now even darker than before.

In the evenings she pored over the charts and journals her father had collected about the
Conquistador
and kept to herself. Since she’d been doing that for the most part since she’d arrived in Mexico, no one seemed to notice, and she figured that was a good thing too.

“Hey, gorgeous.” She was so distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t notice Drummer until he opened the screen door and eased into her casita. “What are you working on?”

She straightened, a small part of her irritated at the interruption, another part thankful because it pulled her out of her idiotic musings and overanalyzing everything she was doing wrong.

“Just going over some of these charts.” She ran a hand over her hair and sighed. “Hoping we hit pay dirt soon.”

He sat down at the table and studied the papers in front of her. “Sometimes finding a wreck is pure luck. You can plot and graph and plan all you want, but if something doesn’t want to be found, it won’t be.”

She glanced up through her glasses. “That’s a simple-minded answer, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but I believe it to be true.”

“And it’s easier than sitting around doing boring research, huh?”

He grinned. “That too. Not everything’s about the beginning and end, Maren. The middle can be a hell of a lot of fun too. You need to sit back and enjoy the process, because before you know it, it’ll be over, and you’ll be left wondering where it went.”

He spoke like a man who knew what he was talking about, and she wanted to ask what he meant, then thought better of it. She had enough problems and didn’t need to be worrying about what made Nate Drummer tick.

She exhaled a long breath and looked back down at her charts. “Doesn’t it frustrate you that we go down day after day, yet we haven’t found anything significant?”

“Why?” He eased back in his chair and hooked his arm over the back. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. No one said this was going to be a quick project. I know we’ll find the wreck. I’m just not going to get all bent out of shape if it doesn’t happen right away.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you on some kind of timeline that makes it imperative you find the damn thing right away?”

More than you know.

She shook off the thought, told herself to stop stressing. Evan hadn’t called, hadn’t made any move toward her or Isabel. They were safe for the time being. And the man wasn’t stupid. He knew this could be a long process. “I’m just not good at waiting. I like the chase as well as anyone, but I prefer the digging.”

He pushed out of his chair. “I think you’ve been shacked up in here long enough. The camp is cleaned up. We’re diving tomorrow. A bunch of us are going into the village for a night out before Patrick cracks his whip again. Join us.”

She thought of a night out with Thad, and the nerves in her stomach formed a hot, tight ball. “I don’t think so.” She slipped off her glasses. “I’d rather stay here and try to get some more work done.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a nerd, Maren?”

She laughed, because she’d definitely been told that a time or two before—especially by Isabel. And because she knew she was so much less fun now than she’d been ten years ago.

“Come on,” he added, grasping her hand and easing her around the table toward him. “One night away from these boring charts isn’t going to kill the project.”

She frowned. “I’m not getting rid of you until I say yes, am I?”

His grin was filled with devilish delight. “Not a chance. I will sit here and bug the hell out of you like a bear on honey.”

“Like a fly on shit, you mean,” she corrected, shooting him a dry look.

He laughed. “Yeah. Like a big ol’ pile of shit.” He released her and headed for the door. “Grab your dancing shoes, Hudson. I’ll meet you out front in fifteen. The rest of the group already left. And wear something sexy.”

A frown creased her mouth as the cabin door slapped shut in his wake. The rest of the group? That meant it was just the two of them. Until they got to the village and she saw Thad.

Her stomach vibrated, but she tossed her glasses on the table and headed for her bedroom. She stopped in front of the small dresser in her room, pulled the drawer open and bit her lip. She shouldn’t go. She should stay here where it was safe. But Drummer was right. She needed to enjoy the process, not just the end product. And she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Lisa since coming back.

Right. She was searching for something sexy to wear for Lisa. Uh-huh. Yep. That was it. She blew out a long breath, grabbed the only skirt she’d brought with her, and cursed her stupidity all over again.

Wow, you’re getting good at the lies, girlie.

D
rummer’s idea of a night out ended up being a smoky bar at one of the few resorts along the beach. This one was painted a bright pink with a few tables lit by candlelight surrounding a dance floor made of bamboo. A local band occupied the stage at one end of the open-air bar. Beyond the patio, concrete turned to sand. Palm trees swayed in the night sky, and in the distance, moonlight shimmered off the gentle waves lapping the shore.

Thad took a long pull from his beer and turned to look over the dance floor. Drummer was sashaying with Lisa, while Maren sat at one of several tables her group had occupied, purposely positioning herself away from Thad. She wasn’t avoiding him, but she wasn’t going out of her way to be overly friendly either, and he wasn’t bothered by it in the least. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment, and he knew it would come. Eventually.

Only…the new Maren was turning out to be a helluva lot more stubborn than the old one.

Patrick sipped the beer he was nursing and gestured toward the dance floor, where Drummer was spinning Lisa around. “That one there was worried about you two.”

“Who? Drummer?”

Patrick chuckled. “No, Maxwell. Insisted I send her down into the cenote as soon as she found out you two hadn’t come back up. Nearly had to restrain her to keep her from going alone.”

Thad lifted his beer and took another sip to ease the sting in his chest. After what had happened to Colin, Lisa wouldn’t think twice about risking her life for the people she cared about. And the way Lisa had glommed on to both him and Maren when they’d returned to the site had told him loud and clear how she felt about them both. “Glad you didn’t let her.”

Patrick turned to face him, and his expression sobered. “I told Maren I’d never heard of Las Hermanas, but that wasn’t the truth.”

Now why was that not a surprise? “I figured.”

Patrick glanced toward his daughter, and, confident she wasn’t listening, said, “
Las Hermanas de Protección
is a secret group of women dedicated to keeping the resting place of Doña Marina hidden from public knowledge. But their primary purpose—which isn’t so common knowledge—is securing the resting place of
La Malinche
and stopping anyone they think is getting too close to her.”

Thad’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer to the older man. “Are you telling me they’re actively sabotaging anyone they think is searching for the damn relic?”

Patrick lifted his beer and took a long swallow, as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this to any of us?”

“The less Maren worries about this dig, the better.”

The fine hairs along Thad’s nape stood straight. “They set off an explosion, Patrick. One that could have gotten both her and me killed.”

Patrick frowned. “There’s no evidence of that.”

“Maren’s pretty damn sure. And after this news, I’m starting to think she was right.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re both okay.”

Thad huffed and lifted his beer. No wonder Maren’s relationship was so strained with the man. His cavalier attitude was astonishing. “We’re lucky, that’s what we are.”

Patrick sighed. “Look, I didn’t think it was worth mentioning because I had no indication they were even on to us. Now that we know, we’ll be better prepared. Nine years ago, they weren’t interested in what we were doing, because we weren’t anywhere near finding
La Malinche
. The fact they’ve shown up now is a good sign. It means we’re close.”

A good sign? Thad didn’t agree. He glanced at Maren and watched as she brushed her long hair behind her shoulder and laughed at something being said around the table. She was wearing a white sleeveless blouse and a sexy black skirt that showed off the muscle tone in her legs. And every time he looked at her, his chest constricted. He’d almost lost her in that cenote. Had thought he’d lost her when he’d awoken and found her gone from their storm shelter. He wasn’t risking her life again. Not for some stupid relic.