Stolen Chances (6 page)

His voice was still as deep and gravelly as she remembered. And way too damn arousing. Maren swallowed hard and closed the book. “I suppose.”

“You missed dinner.”

Another round of laughter echoed across the camp, and Maren pictured her father in the thick of things, telling one of his numerous stories to the grunts he’d hired. “I’ve heard all of Patrick’s tales. I wasn’t in the mood to hear them again.”

Thad nodded, tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and looked out over the camp. Palms swayed in the evening breeze, and the first sparkle of stars above could just be seen, but he was all Maren could seem to look at. Older, more muscular beneath that white T-shirt than he’d been in his twenties, rough around the edges in a way that shouldn’t be legal, and so much sexier than he had any right to be. “I heard you’re leaving.”

Why that hit her hard in the chest, Maren didn’t know. “I have to get back. Unlike the rest of you, Patrick didn’t tell me what this dig was all about. If he had, I wouldn’t have come.”

Thad nodded again and kicked a rock near the toe of his boot. “I can understand that. I wasn’t sure I was going to come at first either. Then I decided it was too important an opportunity to pass up.”

Of course it would be important to him. He’d lost his brother during their last attempt to find
La Malinche
. Colin’s baby face flashed in Maren’s mind, and she remembered his easy smile, his infectious laugh, and the numerous practical jokes he’d liked to play.

She also remembered the day he’d died, when they’d been diving in that cenote her father had told her was
the place
, and those treasure hunters had come in through another tunnel, unexpectedly. A familiar ache settled deep in her chest.

Everyone had a reason to be here, even Lisa. She’d been in love with Colin nine years before. And though Lisa was happily married to Rafe now, Maren knew Lisa always kept her ear to the ground, listening for any buzz about that cursed artifact. Because finding it would be one final way for her to honor Colin’s memory.

If only it were that easy for Maren. She missed Colin as much as the rest of them, but unearthing a worthless statue wouldn’t protect her daughter. And that was all that mattered.

“What do you think he would say if he were here?” Thad asked quietly, his rough voice cutting through her thoughts and memories. “Would he want us to do this? Do you think it matters in the long run?”

He was talking about Colin. She looked his way and felt her chest constrict. This was hard for him. Harder than for anyone else. He’d dragged Colin with him on that dig nine years ago. Colin hadn’t wanted to go. He’d been a term away from finishing his Master’s degree in anthropology, but he’d put it all on hold for Thad because his brother had asked. And in the end, he’d lost his life for something he’d never really believed in.

“What do you think?” she asked just as softly.

He was silent for a minute, then turned those dark eyes her way. And when she looked at him in the dim light, the sorrow she saw lurking there just about broke her. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I think he’d want us to finish this, to make his death matter. It’s not about the artifact. It’s about restitution, about payback. About finding closure and ending it all, right now.”

A lump formed in Maren’s throat, one she couldn’t seem to get rid of no matter what she tried. “I think you’re right.”

Silence settled over them. Neither seemed to know what to say. And every second that passed inched Maren’s nerves higher. Because talking to him only reinforced one thing: he was still the man she’d fallen in love with so long ago. It didn’t matter what had happened between them after Colin’s death or that he’d never returned her calls. The loyal, protective, sexy man she’d fallen for was standing in front of her, waiting for her to make the first move.

On shaky legs, she pushed to her feet and turned for the door before her body could betray her. “I need to turn in.”

“Maren—”

The emotion she heard in that one word—her name—brought everything right back to the surface. Tell him… Don’t tell him… She couldn’t think right now; didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that she needed space so she could breathe. “Don’t, Thad.”

“We should talk, Blondie.”

Blondie
… His favorite nickname for her. Her chest squeezed tighter. She closed her hand around the screen handle and squeezed her eyes tightly before opening them again. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there—”

She turned to face him. “Look, the past is…in the past.” The slight breeze ruffled his hair, and she had an uncontrollable urge to run her fingers through the thick locks like she used to, but she fought it and stood her ground. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’ll do just fine without me. Patrick and I aren’t really on the best of terms anyway, so it’s better if I just go. The team doesn’t need the extra tension. Really, it’s…no big deal.” She stared at him a second, and when he didn’t say anything, she added quickly, “Good night, Thad.”

She pulled the screen door open and had one foot in the room before she heard his voice.

“What if I want you to stay?”

She froze, and inside her chest, the cold embers of her heart burst to life. But they cracked all over again under the weight of everything left unsaid between them. “Nine years ago,
I
wanted
you
to stay. We just don’t always get what we want.”

She let the screen slap behind her and drew unsteady breaths as she crossed the small living area. She had to get out of this place. She couldn’t do this again. Just seeing Thad was rocking her world right out from under her feet and messing with her resolve.

Halfway to her room, the phone in her pocket buzzed, and she pulled it out. One look at the screen and everything else faded away. A cold chill raced down her spine and turned to ice in the pit of her stomach.

Hands shaking, she moved into her bedroom, closed the door, and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello, Evan.”

“That doesn’t sound like happiness to me.”

Maren’s eyes slid closed on a wave of dread. “You caught me off guard.”

“I bet. I’ve missed you, darling. It’s been way too long.”

Sickness rolled through Maren’s stomach, but she fought the rising bile and forced the words he wanted to hear. “I know. I’ve been…busy.”

“Too busy to call?”

She pictured him sitting behind that monstrous desk of his, in that palatial mansion overlooking the Pacific. “Evan—”

“Too busy to tell me you were planning a trip to Mexico?”

Maren’s eyes popped open, and dread turned to bone-chilling fear. “H-how did you know I was in Mexico?”

“Maren, darling. I know
everything
.”

The way he drew out the last word made her stomach roll. She leaned against the back of the door. “What do you want?”

“I want what everyone wants—your father, Lisa Maxwell, Thad Leighton, even that hustler Drummer. I want
La Malinche
.”

Her legs buckled, and she sank to the floor. Dammit, he knew where she was. She should have expected the call, but she’d thought if she could get out of here fast enough…

She swallowed hard. “I…I don’t have it. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Don’t lie to me, Maren.”

“Evan, I’m not lying. I wouldn’t lie to you. I—”

“If I can’t have the statue, I’ll have you. As I’ve
had
you. As I plan to go on having you until I get bored and decide to move on to a younger, more agreeable version of you.” Maren covered her mouth with her hand as another burst of fear whipped through her. “However, I might be willing to make you a deal.”

Her blood beat like cannon fire in her ears, but the offer she heard lingering in his voice kept her from exploding. “What kind of deal?”

“The kind where I walk away and leave you and that beautiful daughter of yours alone.
All
alone. The only thing you have to do is bring me
La Malinche
.”

This was what he’d been waiting for, Maren realized. All these years, he’d been counting on her father to go after that damn relic again. And he’d targeted her as a way to get it.

The sickness churned and swirled inside her belly. But with it…a thread of hope. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll live up to your end of the bargain?”

“None. Except my word. You know my word is sound, Maren. I follow through with
all
my promises.”

Her gut twisted again. And the memory of his hands on her body, of the things he’d made her do, rushed through her mind. She closed her eyes tight to block the memories. Yes, she knew better than anyone how he followed through.

“Maren?”

Could she do it? Betray her father, Lisa…Thad? Though they’d never been able to prove it, they all knew the treasure hunters who’d killed Colin in that cenote had been hired by Evan Declan. Nine years ago, he’d been as obsessed with finding
La Malinche
as was her father, but for different reasons. And he’d been willing to kill for it.

For a split second, Maren thought about telling Thad the truth, but then pushed the thought aside. He’d hate her if she told him the truth, and it wouldn’t keep her daughter any safer. No one was safe from Evan when he set his sights on them. She couldn’t walk away now. Every person she cared about would disown her if she went through with this, but Evan was finally offering her a way out.

Hands shaking against the phone, she drew in one deep breath for courage, then closed her eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” The surprise in Evan’s voice told her even he hadn’t expected her to capitulate quite so quickly.

“Yes. Okay. I’ll do it. In exchange for you never seeing, speaking to, or contacting me or Isabel again, I’ll bring you what you want.”

“
La Malinche
.”

A sharp, angry ache filled Maren’s chest, like a hammer chipping away at the embers of her heart. “Yes. When we find it.”

“Say it.”

The hammer came down hard, and the pain from the blow made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. “I’ll bring you
La Malinche
.”

“Good girl, Maren.” Evan’s gloating smile twined through his words. “I always knew I could count on you to do the right thing. You’ll see. When this is over, we’ll both have exactly what we want most.”

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

A
restless night’s sleep did little to settle Maren’s nerves.

After lying awake most of the night, staring at the thatched roof of her hut, second-guessing her decision, she finally gave up and threw back her sleeping bag. She slipped on shorts and a tank, laced her running shoes and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Then she eased out of the hut just as the sun was coming up.

She drew in a deep breath of salty air. If she had to be in hell, there was really no better place. At least in the meantime she could enjoy the peaceful setting, the gentle breeze, the push and pull of water along the shore. Maybe the rhythmic sounds could lull her into a fantasy that her life wasn’t really as bad as she thought.

Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that, girlie.

The first two miles were killer. The sand was already warm, radiating heat. The sunglasses she’d slipped on helped cut the glare, but they kept sliding down her nose. Humidity caused her to sweat more than she liked, but she continued to run, to feel the fatigue in her muscles and know that at least this one small thing was good for her.

She slowed as she approached the small village of Tampalan. Worn stucco buildings, an open-air market, a bustle of merchants and fishermen already milling along the cobblestone streets paralleling the beach met her eyes. Her senses heightened at the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee drifting on the air as she passed a small resort, and stopped to catch her breath.

A man saw her, smiled, and turned her direction. He was tall, lean, and dressed in running gear, just like Maren, and for a moment she tensed, afraid it might be one of Evan’s spies. Then she realized it was Thad’s sidekick from the airstrip.

Perspiration ran down his cheek, making his skin look ruddy. “Fancy meeting you out here this early. I figured you’d be sound asleep after your long flight yesterday.”

“Too quiet in paradise to sleep.” She ran the back of her hand over her brow to mop up the sweat. “Do you run every morning?”

“I try.” His T-shirt was damp around the collar and down his back. When he lifted his arm to wipe his brow, she caught the long, hard lines of a well-toned body. “Leighton snores, so it’s a good excuse to get out of our hut.”

Maren chuckled. Yeah, she remembered that about him. But only when he was really tired. And she didn’t want to think about how she used to make him that tired. “How far down the beach did you go?”

He glanced in the direction he’d just come. “Another mile or two. There’s a bay not far in that direction, some jagged rocks, low cliffs. Makes it tough to keep going. I figure eight miles round trip’s enough.”

“More than enough for me. The most I can seem to muster up is five. Get bored when I run more than that.” She squinted against the sun behind him, making it hard to see his face.

“You hungry?”

“I thought you were running.”

“I was. I’m not now. Let’s get breakfast. Since we’re already here.”

His smile was genuine, and there was just something…easy about Nate Drummer. Maren didn’t know what it was, but she liked him. Maybe it was because since she’d arrived, this was the first time she didn’t feel like she was lying. “No breakfast for me. But you could talk me into a cup of coffee, as long as you’re buying.”

“Done.” He grinned, showing off straight white teeth and a lopsided smile.

She followed him across the sand toward a small poolside café at one of the various resorts along the strip. Though a resort this far south was a loose term compared to those farther north in Cancun and Playacar.

“So your dad told a pretty mean tale last night after dinner,” Nate said as he sat.

Maren frowned. “Patrick has a knack for spinning a long tale.”