The Last Mile, page 20
“I bet you’ve stayed in a lot worse places,” she said to Gage, smiling.
He chuckled. “That’s an understatement.”
“So what do the locals think we’re doing here?”
Gage set his carry-on on the bed, unzipped it, and flipped open the lid to unpack. “We’re tourists exploring the area. I’m your husband. I’m keeping you company while you’re taking photos and writing an article on the flora and fauna of the tropical dry forest.”
Her husband. Her heart stuttered at the thought of what it might be like if they were truly married. If the man were anyone but Gage Logan, it might be something she could imagine. But Gage wasn’t the type to settle down, and as she thought of it, neither was she. She was too independent, too used to taking care of herself.
Abby buried the thought, surprised at the pang of yearning she felt.
Her eyes ran over Gage’s unshaven jaw and the knife strapped to his thigh. “You look more like a mercenary than a tourist,” she said. “What are Mateo, Edge, and his security people supposed to be doing here?”
Gage just shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. We’re paying our hosts well. We’ve rented the entire hotel at triple the rate for the next two weeks, maybe longer. No one’s going to push it.”
Abby finished unpacking her meager supply of clothes and looked up at a soft rap on the door.
Mateo stood in the outside corridor, his arm around the shoulders of a young, dark-haired, dark-eyed boy. “This is Carlos. We met when I was here before. Carlos is going to be our helper.”
Gage looked the boy over and frowned. “Are you sure about this?” Carlos was far too thin, scrawny to the point of emaciation, with straight black hair that hung halfway to his shoulders, blunt cut on the ends. His narrow feet were bare. Abby felt a tug in her heart.
“Carlos can sleep in one of the extra rooms,” Mateo said.
“What about his parents?” Gage asked.
“He is an orphan. Carlos knows the area for miles around. He needs the work, and we can use his help.”
Gage studied the boy a moment more and finally nodded. “All right, then.” He walked over and crouched in front of Carlos. “Cuantos años tienes?” How old are you?
“I am ten,” Carlos replied in fairly good English.
One of Gage’s dark eyebrows went up. “Where did you learn to speak English?”
“My mother taught me. She was a teacher in Utsil for a while. Then we moved to Alux’ob, and she died.”
Gage’s blue eyes darkened. “What about your father?”
Carlos just shrugged his bony shoulders. “I do not know.”
Gage rose to his feet and stuck out a big hand, which completely engulfed the boy’s small one as they shook. “It’s nice to meet you, Carlos.” He turned. “This is Abby.”
Abby smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be a great help, Carlos.”
The boy puffed out his narrow chest. “Whatever you need—you will tell Carlos and he will get it for you.”
Abby’s smile widened. “That sounds great.” She looked up at Gage. “You know, I’m getting hungry. I bet Carlos knows a good place for us to eat.”
The boy’s black eyes lit up. “Sí, Señora Abby, I know a very good place.”
Abby reached down and took hold of his small brown hand, felt it curl trustingly around her own, and her heart slowly melted. He was just a boy, and he was completely alone. She knew what that felt like, and it was far worse for a child. “Anyone else want to come?”
Gage shot her a look. “You aren’t going anywhere by yourself, sweetheart. So yes, I’m coming along.”
The endearment had her gaze shooting to his, though it was simply part of the game they were playing. After what had happened in Mexico City, Gage was determined to keep her safe.
She looked down at the boy. “All right, Carlos, let’s go.”
They headed along the dirt street to the Cantina Imperial, in one of the flat-roofed square buildings on the opposite side of the road, this one painted bright blue. Gage pushed open the swinging door and held it so she, Carlos, and Mateo could enter. Edge was out doing whatever he did to ensure their security and wouldn’t be back before nightfall.
The dimly lit interior of the cantina was a cool respite from the outside heat, but the tile-floored room wasn’t empty. Clusters of men sat at rough wooden tables off to one side, disreputable-looking with their shaggy hair, mustaches, dirty clothes, and rubber-soled leather sandals.
They sat up straighter as Abby and their small group walked past, and she could feel their eyes on her. Her pulse quickened. She was suddenly glad Gage was there and that he was armed.
They ordered the dishes Carlos suggested, and the meal was brought out: poc chuc, slices of pork marinated in sour orange and achiote sauce, and sopes, tortillas stuffed with beans, topped with shredded chicken and lettuce.
The boy wolfed down the food as if he were starving, which his appearance said he was. At least he would have decent meals for the next two weeks.
Unless they were able to find and retrieve the gold before then.
Tonight they were going to the spot pinpointed on King’s map, the ruins of the original Peralta plantation, about fifteen miles from the town. They would scout the area and plot their course. If everything looked as it should, they would go back tomorrow and search for the treasure in the light of day.
The Devil’s Gold was in reach. Abby could feel it.
Tonight, she thought, their search would truly begin.
* * *
Gage could sense danger a mile away. In this case, it was lurking in the corners of the Cantina Imperial, nothing more than a painted stucco structure with an open tin ceiling, shutters that closed over windows without glass, and a red tile floor.
He didn’t miss the weapons some of the men openly carried, semiautomatic pistols, stout wooden bats, and knives, the blades occasionally flashing in a ray of sunlight that managed to force its way inside. Cartel members, he figured, though he had no idea which group.
Los Zetas, or one of the others—either way, it wasn’t good news.
And the way the men were looking at Abby made the hackles rise on the back of his neck. She was a beautiful woman. He caught a few lewd remarks in Spanish, and his jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in. Gage forced himself to ignore them.
There were at least twelve men in the bar, possibly more in the back room. If a fight broke out, the odds weren’t good. An incident could be deadly.
The boy didn’t seem to notice, engrossed in his meal as he was. Next to him, Mateo had schooled his features into a mask that showed no concern, though Gage knew he wasn’t happy to see the men in town. Mateo cast him an occasional warning glance, aware of his protective feelings for Abby, reminding him of the high stakes they were playing for.
They finished the meal, and Gage paid the bill. He set a hand possessively at Abby’s waist as they walked out of the cantina, letting the men know exactly whom she belonged to.
There was lust in the men’s dark eyes. Watching the unconsciously sexy way she walked toward the door, Gage found his own blood pounding. He remembered making love to her last night, thought how good they were together, and wanted her all over again. Abby was his. At least until this was over.
Her gaze ran over him as they walked back to the hotel, and he could feel the heat that sparked between them. A sagging bed in a primitive hotel room with paper-thin walls was the last place he wanted to take her.
And yet when Mateo and the boy headed to their respective quarters for a brief nap in the brutal afternoon heat, Gage closed the door to their room, turned her into his arms, and kissed her. He cupped her face and kissed the corners of her mouth, then sank into her soft lips again.
“I want you,” he said on another slow kiss. “I know it’s not the time or place, but my body doesn’t seem to care.” He took her hand and moved it down to cover his heavy erection.
Abby’s fingers closed around him. “I want you, too. I always seem to want you.”
Gage groaned.
“It’s a bad idea,” he said, kissing the side of her neck. “These walls are like paper.”
Abby’s arms slid around his neck. “Edge’s room is next door, and he’s not in.”
Gage nipped her earlobe. “You think you can be quiet?”
The corners of her mouth tipped up. “Depends on what you do to me.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to make you come. That much I can promise.” Gage kissed her again, forcing himself to be gentle, coaxing her lips apart, then deepening the kiss and taking what he wanted. Abby’s response was immediate, her mouth softening under his, her nipples tightening as her breasts flattened against him.
Even with the ceiling fan stirring up a breeze, it was hot in the room. Gage stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it away, thought of the men in the cantina, and left on his cargo pants in case there was trouble.
Abby peeled her T-shirt off over her head, unfastened her bra and tossed it away.
“Take off the rest,” Gage commanded. She liked it when he took control, and after the way the men in the cantina had looked at her, he needed to mark her, brand her as his, bind her to him in some way.
“Unbraid your hair.”
Standing naked in front of him, she pulled off the band holding her long golden-red braid and combed her fingers through it, separating the fiery strands, spreading them around her shoulders. His groin tightened painfully, urging him to take her.
Gage ignored the demands of his body, refusing to be hurried. Not today.
“Come here,” he said softly, waiting patiently as she approached, her eyes never leaving his face. The moments dragged out, making him harder still.
“I’ve never told you how beautiful you are,” he said, trailing a finger down her cheek. “I’ve never said that I think about being inside you even when you’re not around.”
She reached out and flattened her palms on his chest. “I think about you, too, Gage. I remember the way you touch me, and I want more.”
His heartbeat quickened. He reached out and cupped a pale, ripe breast, ran his thumb back and forth across her nipple. Abby trembled as he bent his head and took the fullness into his mouth. She combed her fingers through his hair, silently begging for more.
Unzipping his cargo pants, Gage freed himself, kissed her deeply as he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her arms slid around his neck. He carried her across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her so she straddled him, a knee on each side, spreading her open for his touch.
Abby’s head fell back as he began to stroke her, knowing what she liked and exactly the way she liked it. She was ready for him, as she always was, her body hot and slick as he positioned his hard length and slid himself inside.
Abby moaned, and her hold tightened around his neck.
“Easy . . .” Refusing to be rushed, he gripped her hips to hold her in place and began to move, slowly at first, then driving deep, taking what he wanted, giving her what she wanted too.
Abby clung to him, her long, fiery hair shifting across her back, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his.
He wanted to tell her how good she felt, how she matched him better than any woman he had ever known. He might have, if it weren’t for the power it would give her, a power he couldn’t afford to concede.
“Hold on, baby,” he said, slamming into her faster, deeper, harder. “Stay with me.” The breeze from the ceiling fan washed over him, but it did nothing to cool his blood.
Abby arched her back, taking even more of him, and he felt her tighten around him. Fierce pleasure washed through him, hot and intense, drawing every muscle taut. His release came hard and fast, matching hers as they reached the peak together.
Long seconds passed, yet his heart still hammered wildly. Abby pressed her lips against his sweat-slick skin right over his heart, and something shifted inside him, expanded into an emotion he had never felt before. Something he couldn’t afford to feel.
Something he refused to allow.
What was it about this woman that touched him in a way no other woman had? Whatever it was, he couldn’t permit his feelings to grow any deeper. There was no place for a woman in the life he led. He had learned that lesson before.
Whatever his feelings, he needed to end them now, before it was too late.
Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, he lifted her away and settled her naked on the bed. He went into the bathroom to clean up, came out and pulled on a fresh T-shirt, then headed for the door.
“You’re going out?” Abby asked. “Where are you going?” She looked beautiful, with the faint sheen of moisture on her skin, her shiny hair a tangle around her shoulders. He wanted to turn back, go over to the bed, and take her again.
“I need some air,” he said. “Why don’t you nap for a while? I won’t be gone long.” And he wouldn’t go far. He didn’t trust the men in the cantina.
Worse yet, now he knew he couldn’t trust himself. Not when it came to his feelings for Abby. He needed to put things back the way they were before, keep the physical part of their relationship, but separate everything else.
It wouldn’t be easy, but Gage was determined.
With a last glance at Abby, he stepped out into the heat and closed the door.
The heavy metal click felt like a lock closing off his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
PITCH DARKNESS CLOAKED THE DENSE FOREST AS THE HUMMER drove along the narrow, overgrown lane leading to the ruins of the old hacienda, once the Peralta plantation. Twin yellow circles shining from the headlights were all that illuminated their way.
As before, Mateo and Edge rode in the vehicle in front of them. They’d been in the area to get a feel for what they would be facing, though not to the ruins themselves. Secrets had a way of getting out.
Abby turned on her cell phone and pulled up the satellite map she had downloaded before they’d left Denver. Until now, they hadn’t used their phones since the incident in Mexico City. They didn’t want to be tracked. There was no service this far out of Alux’ob. Even there, communication was spotty. But the map was already downloaded to the phone.
“We’re almost there,” Abby said, following the lines on the screen. The vehicle ahead made a turn to the right, and Gage followed. A few seconds later, a stone arch appeared in front of them, overgrown with vines and weeds. As they passed beneath the arch, she could see the road ahead curving off toward their destination.
An animal darted out in the road, panicked, turned, and scuttled away.
“Anteater,” Gage said. “Big one.” It was about five feet long, with a pointed snout and yellowish-white and black fur. “They’re nocturnal,” he added.
Abby’s heart was still racing from the near miss and seeing such an incredible animal in the wild. “So I just learned.”
“They’re actually very shy.”
“With the size of those claws, I’d rather not run into one in the forest.”
In the colored lights on the dash, she caught Gage’s smile.
They drove another quarter mile and came to a long slab of stone topped by arched columns, all that was left of the front entrance to what had once been a grand hacienda.
Ahead of them, Mateo slowed, then continued along the road, circling around the house to the back. Off to one side, outbuildings were now piles of stone covered by vines and bushes that had grown up through the cracks.
They reached what had been the rear entrance, and both vehicles pulled to a stop. They left the headlights on so they could see what remained of the hacienda. From what Abby could tell, there was nothing but stone walls two to four feet high, part of the foundation.
They climbed out of the vehicles, and Abby unrolled the drawing Gage had made from satellite views of the grounds, combined with the information King had left in the safe deposit box.
Edge walked up, and so did Mateo. “Not much left,” Edge said, his gaze tracking the shapes outlined by the headlights.
Abby spread the drawing open on the hood of the car, and Gage clicked on his long-handled flashlight to study it. His gaze went back to the remnants of the house. “Mostly, it’s just the original foundation, the perimeter stones King described.”
The old plantations were built in a similar design, much like the Hacienda San José, with a long, gallery-style front entrance, a rambling single-story residence, and gardens in the rear. According to the brochure Abby had read, there were fifteen bedrooms and suites in the Hacienda San José, probably at least an equal number here.
“How big do you think it was?” Abby asked.
“I’d say twelve to fifteen thousand square feet on the main level.”
“Plus the rooms below the house,” Abby said. “The wine cellar, food-storage chambers, and probably some servants’ quarters.”
“A lot of these old plantations had their own jail cells under the house,” Gage said. “The plantations were located far away from any town, and each estate was its own small village. According to King, in a room under the ruins is where we’ll find the gold.”
Edge studied the drawing. “I didn’t think you were planning to use heavy equipment to dig the place up.”
“I’m not,” Gage said. “King’s already found the gold—or at least that’s the premise we’re working on. So there’s an entrance somewhere we can get to without having to dig very deep.”
Abby shined her own smaller flashlight around. “The property is so overgrown, it’s going to be hard to find our way into the lower level, even with King’s instructions.”
“King said he covered the entrance back up when he left so it looked exactly as it had before.”
“In daylight, it will be easier,” Mateo said. “You have come this far. You will find it.”
Gage glanced over at his friend. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
Abby followed the track of Gage’s flashlight as the beam traveled over the low rock walls that outlined the long rectangular shape of the house.
