The Fifth Kingdom (14 page)

“I hope you have good news for us, Dr. Lopez,” Bill said and peered over at Deanna. He tilted the cell phone flat and she leaned in so that she could hear the conversation.

“Actually, I’m sorry to say that I haven’t been able to reach Miranda.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Dr. Lopez. I’m starting to get a little worried that something may have happened to her,” Bill replied.

“As am I. It’s not like Miranda to be out of touch for so long,” Lopez said.

Bill wondered if the tone of his voice was as insincere as it sounded or if it was just his own prejudice. But as he glanced from the corner of his eye at Deanna, he detected the same skepticism. “I guess Deanna and I will have to try and track her down at her base camp.”

“I didn’t realize you knew where that was,” Lopez responded, his tones a little chillier. He was clearly annoyed that they hadn’t provided that information earlier.

“Well, not really. You see, Deanna has some of Miranda’s notes and we think I’ve deciphered them. But we’re not really familiar with the area.”

“Maybe I could be of assistance? There are very few historical districts in the region with which I’m unfamiliar,” Lopez offered and Deanna peered at Bill to confirm how to proceed. He placed his index finger to his lips and partially muffled the cell phone.

“I’m not sure about this,” he said in a low whisper, but loud enough to be overheard by Lopez.

“But you were the one carrying on about making amends with my mother, Bill. How can I do that if I can’t find her?” Deanna replied, playing her part perfectly.

“I do have meetings, you know. While I can take a little time off, I can’t go gallivanting around Mexico for days—”

“If we hire a guide it can’t take more than a half a day or so to get there and come back,” she parried and Lopez cut in.

“Are you still there? I couldn’t really hear you,” he lied.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Lopez. My fiancée and I were just discussing what to do,” Bill answered and shot an annoyed look at Deanna just in case anyone was watching.

With a disgusted sigh, Bill added, “Deanna would like to get a guide to take us to Miranda’s camp. I guess I’ll ask the embassy to recommend—”

“I would be delighted to help with a recommendation, Bill. I know a number of qualified men who could assist.”

“I’m still a little worried whether I’ve interpreted my mother’s notes correctly,” Deanna tacked on, loudly enough that Lopez was sure to overhear.

As totally expected, Lopez said, “I can take a look at the notes if you’d like? Confirm the location of the tomb.”

“We’ll bring her notes so you can review them, only her papers don’t say where the find is located. Maybe once we get to her camp, Miranda can tell us more about her discovery,” Bill advised.

“It’s not in her notes?” Lopez asked with some surprise.

Bill played the last card they had agreed upon in the hopes that if Miranda was alive, she would stay that way. “Deanna’s mother has always been slightly paranoid, Dr. Lopez. She would never put anything truly vital on paper. If something has happened to her—”

“Her discovery will be lost. Let’s hope she’s okay. I’ll contact you later tonight with a time for our departure,” Lopez replied and then hung up.

Deanna met Bill’s gaze and he seemed to be having many of the same thoughts as she was. “She’s alive, isn’t she?” she asked in a low tone in order to keep the conversation private.

Bill leaned closer and whispered, “My hope was that they were keeping her alive until they found her notes and nothing about Lopez’s tone indicated that she might be dead already. Now that Lopez knows they’re useless without Miranda, they’ll take better care of her.”

“That’s a relief, at least. But what about his plan to guide us?” she asked, feeling for the first time a hint of unrest about the mission they were about to undertake.

“He’ll likely have PM members with him. Maybe even arrange for others to intercept us at the location,” Bill responded just as the waitress brought over the champagne.

Deanna delayed until the waitress had poured their drinks and taken their lunch orders to resume the conversation. “What is our plan?”

Bill raised his glass. “To finding your mom.”

She clinked her flute of champagne against his and took a sip. The champagne was dry with fine bubbles, a testament to its price tag, but that didn’t keep her from slugging it back and requesting a refill. She needed the Dutch courage at the moment.

As if sensing her unease, Bill poured another glass, but then leaned forward, whispering to her in an intimate tone once again so as to not be overheard. “I have two CIA agents who are overseeing a contingent of personnel from the local LEOs.”

“LEOs?” she questioned and took a sip.

“Law enforcement officers. We’ll provide my men and the LEOs with the information on our preliminary location, but we’ll also have them track us via GPS. Especially since we’ll have to go on foot to the site for Miranda’s base camp.”

“Her fake base camp.”

The waitress came over at that moment with the meals they had ordered. Grabbing a forkful of the tamale she had ordered, she offered it up to Bill as any loving fiancée might.

He grinned and brought his lips to the fork, took the morsel, but his actions caused her insides to clench as she recalled how that amazing mouth had pleasured her through the night.

“I think you need something cool,
amorcito
,” he said as he met her heated gaze. He poured her yet more champagne, but his hand wavered as he did so.

“A swim later?” she asked and he dipped his head in agreement.

“After lunch and before we head to the embassy to finalize our plans.”

“Do you think they’ll have Miranda at the first location?” she said and took a piece of the tamale for herself.

Bill shook his head as he considered the jumping-off point they had decided on for the trek to the fake location. “It’ll be too visible there for them to take any action. I’m guessing that they’ll wait until we’re at the base camp.”

Scooping up a large forkful of his cheese enchilada, he offered it to her and they continued the meal in that fashion, exchanging samples of their dishes. Moving the conversation to safer topics to avoid anyone overhearing anything of importance.

When they had finished, Bill paid for their lunch and they strolled to two empty chaises by the edge of the pool. Bill secured Deanna’s bag in the small locker in the base of a table situated between the two chaises while Deanna removed her wrap and entered the pool.

As he joined her, he realized the water was slightly chilly and at Deanna’s delicate shiver, Bill took advantage to haul her close.

“Let me warm you up,
querida
,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

“You are enjoying this way too much,” she whispered against the shell of his ear and then playfully nibbled on his lobe in retaliation.

He chuckled and nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath the line of her jaw close to the crook of her shoulder. Teasingly, he bit a spot before soothing it with a kiss. Her shudder was all he needed to know that she was enjoying it as well.

After about half an hour of floating around together, their bodies brushing under the surface of the water, keeping desire at a high pitch, he reluctantly said, “I hate to do this, but I have to get to work.”

She pouted and rubbed his chest through the fabric of the tank top he still wore, playing up the role of an aggrieved fiancée. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay and play?”

He dropped a kiss on her nose and said loud enough for anyone near to hear, “All play and no work makes Bill a very poor man.”

She laughed and shook her head, took the lead in guiding him from the pool and back to the chaises. Bill draped a towel around his neck, opened the guest locker and removed her things while she dried off. It took all his concentration to avoid perusing her curvy lines and the fit tone of her muscles. Or at least to avoid perusing them for too long.

But even that brief glance was enough for his body to react and as keen eyed as Deanna was, she didn’t fail to observe it.

Hand in hand they sauntered back to the room, the anticipation growing with every step. Bill fought it back, reminding himself that he was on a mission. That he could not permit himself to jump her bones the moment they were back in the room.

But as the door closed behind them, Deanna shifted close and palmed his hard pecs, lazily strummed her finger across his water-chilled nipple. “The tub is big enough for two.”

Pulling in a long steadying breath, he cupped her cheek and said, “You can’t even begin to imagine how tempting that offer is.”

“But not tempting enough?” she said and gave him a playful pout.

“Too tempting. Last night was…special. But this isn’t a game we’re playing. Too many lives are at stake for me to be distracted.”

Deanna’s logical mind understood what he was saying. Hell, she had found herself sidetracked over the course of the day by thoughts of making love with him again. But her heart didn’t comprehend, injured as it had been by her mother’s choice of work over family.

“Are you always all work, Bill?” she wondered aloud and tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

The pain she saw there was real and she hated that she had put it there with her query. “It’s all I have, Deanna.”

She wanted to deny his words. Offer up that he could have her also, but it was too soon and her emotions had been on too much of a roller-coaster ride to be trustworthy.

“I understand. May I take a shower first?” She stepped back from him and the warmth of his body was replaced by the chill kiss of the air-conditioning.

“Sure. I’ve got a few calls to make to confirm our meeting at the embassy.” With those words, he blew past her and to the dining table in the suite, where he began to lay out his laptop and her mother’s journals. The tense set of his shoulders communicated his continued upset.

Despite all her misgivings, she hated to see him hurting. Walking up to him, she laid a hand on his shoulder and swept around its broad width to drop a kiss on his cheek.

Then she raced to the bathroom to take her shower.

Bill waited until the door closed to take a deep breath and brace his fists on the surface of the table, moved beyond words at all that she had conveyed with that one simple kiss.

He had her.

He was no longer alone.

Plopping down into a chair, he buried his head in his hands and wondered how he had made such a mess of this assignment. Although the plans he had put into place were progressing smoothly, things were anything but smooth emotionally. That was dangerous since as he had warned her he could not afford to be distracted.

Distractions were deadly in his line of work.

Tomorrow they would be heading into unknown territory with a possible enemy. PM had already shown through their assorted activities that they were capable of murder. Bill had no doubt that they would kill anyone who stood in the way of finding the tomb Miranda had discovered and whatever was in it.

The
whatever
being a huge unknown.

While Deanna was convinced that the power of whatever was in the tomb was symbolic, Bill couldn’t take that chance.

Forcing away the emotions her kiss had roused, he picked up his cell phone and dialed the embassy intelligence attaché. He relayed his instructions to Rubio for their afternoon meeting, detailing who should be there and the equipment he needed ready for their trip with Lopez.

He had barely flipped the phone closed when Deanna walked out of the bedroom, her chestnut-colored locks ruthlessly scraped back from her face and tied up somehow. The severe look did nothing to diminish her beauty. If anything, it served to highlight the classic lines of her features and the too-human tinge of sunburn pink along her high cheekbones.

He met her halfway and tenderly ran his index finger along the stain of color. “We’ll have to make sure to get you a higher SPF. The sun will be rough out in the hills.”

She nodded and held out the jar of lotion she had spread along his ribs. “I thought you might need this again.”

“Thank you. It did help,” he said and took it from her, grateful that she hadn’t offered to slather it on him. He wasn’t sure he could have resisted that.

“I won’t be long, but we still have about an hour before we have to be at the embassy.”

With a flip of her hand in the direction of the dining table, she said, “I’m going to review my mother’s notes again. Make sure we’re not leading them too close to her find.”

Bill acknowledged her plan and then hurried to the bathroom. Once there, he rushed through his shower and after, as he stroked the aromatic lotion along his ribs, he realized the reason for his haste.

He wanted to be close to her once again.

So not good,
he warned and forced thoughts of her from his brain. He had a job to do and nothing could interfere with that. He exited the bedroom and caught the earnest look on her face while she reviewed her mother’s papers. But then came an appreciative glance when she raised her gaze to meet his and nothing he did curbed the jolt of need that shook him.

“Are you okay?” she questioned, a small ridge forming between her brows as she perused him.

No, he wasn’t and he wasn’t sure he ever would be so long as she was in his life. Needing distance, he replied curtly, “Let’s get to work.”

The wounded look that flashed across her features nearly undid his resolve, but he told himself it was better this way.

As long as he was alone, he could control his world and all that happened in it.

A knock came on the door of the suite. Bill closed down his laptop and cleared the table for their dinner.

Deanna gathered up her papers as well and put them away. A courier was coming from the embassy in the morning to pick them up for safekeeping and she was pretty much done looking at them anyway. She had memorized the real locations and the spots they had faked.

The room service waiter finished laying out their meals and opening a bottle of wine that Bill had also ordered. She had thought he might want to stay more levelheaded on the night before a big mission, but he poured them both a glass without even asking.

At her inquisitive glance he said, “I always like to savor the night before with a fine meal.” With a slight bow and sweep of his arm, he invited her to join him. The food looked as good as if they were dining in the hotel’s gourmet restaurant. Clearly a first-class meal and while she understood the ritual—a last meal just in case—his comment dampened her appetite.

They ate in relative silence, with only the occasional, “Pass the salt,” which served to ramp-up the tension that had taken hold within her as well as her anger.

She was about halfway through her filet mignon when she reached her boiling point. Slapping her knife and fork down with such force that it rattled the plates on the table, she swept up her glass of wine and took a big gulp.

He arched one dark brow. “Is something wrong?”

“I might ask the same. You’ve been positively glacial since this afternoon. Did I do something wrong?”

He placed his cutlery down on the table with fewer theatrics, laced his fingers together and placed them on his midsection before leaning back in his chair.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. I just need to focus.”

“I understand why you don’t want to have sex again—”

“If it was just sex it wouldn’t be a problem, but we both know it was more than that. Don’t we?” He leaned toward her in challenge, daring her to deny her emotions.

She couldn’t. She might be hard, cold or even bitchy at times to defend the protective walls she had erected around herself, but she wasn’t a liar.

“It was more,” she acknowledged, although she was unable to voice just what it had been.

“I can’t let that mess with my head right now. It could get us killed,” he replied and surged from the chair. Took a few steps back and forth before he faced her again, hands palm up as if pleading with her.

She didn’t give him time to press his argument. Reaching out, she took hold of one hand and said, “Is it too hard to at least be friends? Enjoy being with each other?”

That little boy hurt he had revealed to her before rose up again. It was there in the inflection of his voice as he said, “I’m not good at having friends.”

Maybe because he’d had so few in his life, she realized.

Deanna playfully wiggled his hand. “There is a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

A dimpled smile emerged, reluctantly, but plainly visible. “Sure. There is.”

“Then how about we finish dinner and share this wicked dessert? Maybe rent a movie to relax so we can get a good night’s sleep?”

A normal night like so many couples might share,
Bill thought. Except they weren’t a couple and there was nothing normal about the danger they would face in the morning. Acknowledging that risk suddenly made it all that more important to have the normal for at least this one night.

“Your filet looks tasty,” he said, slipping back down into his chair.

“Would you like to try a bite?” she asked, but was immediately slicing off a bit and holding it out to him.

He took the piece, closing his mouth over her fork. Imagining the taste of her lingered there—that taste that he wasn’t sure would ever leave him. Not that he wanted it to.

“Delicious. Want some salmon?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not big on fish.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said, hoping they could share some lobster to celebrate a successful conclusion to their mission.

The meal continued with easy talk, the earlier tension having evaporated.

Sharing the dessert was slightly harder. A different kind of tension arose when they shifted to sit beside each other. They exchanged spoonfuls of the
dulce de leche
pudding topped with fresh whipped cream and something the menu had described as chocolate caviar. Whatever it was, it was sinfully tasty much like her presence beside him.

After gathering up the plates and covering them back up, they sacked out on the couch in the living room area of the suite. Selected a movie from those available on demand and sat back. The comedy was funny, if not slightly bittersweet, but he enjoyed just sitting there, sharing the laughter and tender moments together. Imagining how different his life might be if this was the way every day could play out.

When it came time for sleep, awkwardness arose again.

“I’ll just sack out on the couch,” he said with a jerk of his thumb in its direction.

Deanna rocked back and forth on her heels and then cocked her head at a questioning angle. “Do you really think you can get a good night’s sleep crammed onto that thing? Especially with your ribs still sore?”

For good measure she laid one hand along his injured side. It was still tender, but her touch didn’t hurt, although it awakened all kinds of other feelings.

“I’ll take the couch,” she said and her voice was husky, possibly hinting that he was not alone with what he was feeling.

He met her gaze and detected the widening of her pupils. Noted the nervous way she licked her lips.

“No way. You need your rest and the bed in there…” He pointed to the immense king-sized bed. “It’s like the state of Texas.”

A nervous smile emerged and she slipped her hand from his side to graze along his arm. “Let’s get to bed, then.”

She was already in her pajamas, so she slipped beneath the sheets and hugged one side the way a drowning person might a life preserver. He went to the opposite side and quickly changed, easing into sweats and a T-shirt as a way to armor himself against the temptation of having her skin beside his.

As she had done, he climbed in and stuck close to the edge, but faced her. She was slightly more than an arm’s length away due to the size of the bed, but as his weight caused the mattress to dip a bit, she flipped around and inched just a little closer.

The moonlight streaming in past the sheer curtains was bright, illuminating her face with silvery light. Creating shadows and hollows that made her beauty almost ethereal if not for the slight ridge of worry along her forehead.

He reached out and ran his finger along that line to smooth away her concern. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

“I do, but I’m worried about what it’ll be like to be face-to-face with my mother. It’s not something I ever imagined happening,” she confessed.

“Not ever?” he asked, trailing his finger down the edge of her brow to skim along the line of her jaw.

“Not ever. Do you ever imagine seeing your parents again?” she said, her tone soft and cautious.

Long ago he had imagined it. A very long time ago because even if he tried, he couldn’t picture it in his mind. “I stopped thinking about it around the third or fourth foster home.”

She shifted another inch closer and placed her hand over his as it rested just beneath her jaw. Followed the line of his arm up to offer a consoling pat against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I brought this up.”

Bill shook his head. “It’s good that you did so you’re prepared when you see your mother again. Better that than a surprise.”

She expelled a rough sigh, her frustration apparent. “No matter what it’ll be a surprise. I mean, I don’t know what she looks like anymore. How she’ll react when she sees me.”

Bill stroked his thumb across her jaw. “I think she’ll be happy to see you when all is said and done.”

But would she be happy to see Miranda? Deanna wondered and patted his shoulder once more, needing to touch him because there was something about his solidness that grounded her.

“I hope so, Guillermo,” she said, but he stiffened beneath her hand.

“Please don’t call me that,” he said as he had once before and then quickly explained why this time. “My mother used to call me that.”

“And what did your father call you?” she blurted out before she could contain herself, regretting it immediately as his body became brittle as glass beneath her hand.

“Little bastard. Ass wipe. I could go on—”

“Please, don’t. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds,” she said and shifted across the distance separating them. Wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding him tightly and little by little he relaxed. As he did so, he eased his arms around her and then whispered against her hair, “I’m not sorry. It made me the man I am today.”

A good man,
she thought.
Strong and honorable. Steadfast.

She knew that whatever promises he made he would keep, including bringing the mission to a successful close. But there was one other thing that still worried her.

“Please don’t be a hero tomorrow, Bill. I want us all to get home safe and sound.”

“I want that too,” he murmured and then bent his head, brushed his lips against hers, the kiss one of promise for the future.

She accepted that promise, returning his kiss before nestling into his arms, aware that this night was meant to be about hope and understanding. Anything else could wait until they were home in one piece.