Forbidden. Ellen James
make friendly conversation.”
“That’s not necessary, either,” he said, and for the first time she heard a reluctant hint of humor in his voice. “I’m sure the people at the Mesoamerica Institute told you I was foul tempered and difficult to work with. It’s all true.”
“Actually, they were a little more specific than that. They said you were a royal pain in the ass.”
Nick surprised her with an actual smile, and she thought she saw a glimpse of the cocksure young archaeologist he must have once been. Only a glimpse and then it faded, replaced by a stern demeanor. No matter what, he was still an attractive man…very attractive. He appeared seasoned, matured by hardships she could only guess at. That was somehow appealing, too.
Dana forced herself to stare straight ahead, through the grimy windshield. She’d never intended to feel attracted to her new boss. It certainly wasn’t part of the plan for her new life! Hadn’t she learned anything after what had happened with Alan?
Nonetheless, Dana’s thoughts strayed to the sparse facts she’d learned about Dr. Petrie from the Mesoamerica Institute of Saint Louis. The Institute funded a number of archaeological sites in Mexico and Central America, albeit on a shoestring. At first Dana had been overjoyed when she’d been granted a position on the excavation of Mayan ruins at Isla Calamar. However, the Institute staff had warned Dana that the archaeologist in charge of the project, one Nicholas Petrie, was irascible and dictatorial in the extreme. It seemed both his career and his good humor had gone into sharp decline over the past ten years. Dana would have her work cut out for her, establishing herself on the Calamar dig while at the same time finding a way to get along with her bad-tempered supervisor. The previous soil scientist had quit in disgust over conflicts with Dr. Petrie.
Beyond sharing this warning, the Institute showed discretion. It did not elaborate on further aspects of Dr. Petrie’s personality, nor did it explain why his promising career had faltered to the point that only a struggling organization like the Institute itself would hire him.
In preparation for her new job, Dana had promptly attempted to find copies of Nicholas Petrie’s books on ancient Mayan culture. Both volumes had gone out of print, and she’d finally located dog-eared copies of them at two separate libraries. It was all a mystery, really. The books were excellent, written in a lively, insightful style. At this stage of his career, Nicholas Petrie should have produced even more insights into the Maya. What had reduced him to second-class status, heading a minor dig on the insignificant little island of Calamar, Mexico?
Dana forced herself to stop speculating. She’d come to this island for herself. Perhaps the Calamar dig was a minor one, but she didn’t care about that. This was her chance at last to break out of the stifling mold of her old life.
And so she was excited. And nervous. Her emotions were pent-up. All these sensations roiled inside her.
“Please pull over,” she said in a very distinct voice.
“Ms. Morgan, I’m sure you’d like to admire the view, but–”
“You’d best pull over, Dr. Petrie.”
Thankfully, something in her tone prevented him from further argument. He brought the Rover to a halt. Dana clambered out her side of the vehicle and stalked off toward the underbrush. She had a vague notion of preserving some dignity for herself, but a second later she was doubled over in an ignoble fashion.
Nick Petrie knew exactly what to do. Without saying a word, he followed Dana and supported her head during the humiliating episode. His hand was cool and firm against her clammy skin. When it was all quite over, he held a canteen of water to her lips for a blessedly refreshing sip or two. Then he moistened a serviceable white handkerchief in the water and pressed it matter-of-factly against her face. She was trembling, and he held her steady with one arm. Giving up all hope of dignity, she leaned against him, silently accepting the strength he offered her.
“I usually don’t cause such a strong reaction in people,” he said. “I make them run away, yes–but I don’t make them sick. This is a first.”
She couldn’t even bear to look at him. Dana hated feeling out of control, the way she did right now. When she was quite sure she could stand alone, she moved away from him–although she’d ended up clutching his handkerchief and couldn’t seem to let go of it.
“I feel fine now,” she declared. “It’s all very embarrassing, what just happened–but it was the excitement, you know. I’ve been that way ever since I was a kid. I’d go on a trip, and I’d get so worked up about the adventure I’d be sick….” Her voice trailed off. She realized she was only making matters worse, conjuring up an image of herself as a spindly little kid who couldn’t even handle the anticipation of going to Disneyland. She could tell from the disgruntled expression on Dr. Petrie’s face that he didn’t want to hear any more about her childhood.
And yet, just a few moments ago, he’d been…compassionate. There could be no other word for the way he’d helped her. Gruffly compassionate. Maybe only the gruff part remained now, but she hadn’t imagined the other.
“I’m ready to go on,” she said.
“I doubt you’re up to working,” he answered brusquely. “I’ll take you into the village and let you rest for the day.” He made it sound as if he wanted to be rid of her, and that only strengthened Dana’s resolve.
“Absolutely not. I’m fine–really I am. I’m more than ready to work.”
He studied her with a skeptical expression, the harsh lines of his face hardening still further. There could be no doubt that he disapproved of her. But then he gave an abrupt nod, and led the way back to the Rover.
Dana clambered in beside him. He drove more slowly now, making the ride smoother. Dana suspected he was doing it out of consideration for her, but she didn’t know how to thank him. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her gratitude; he still maintained a beleaguered expression.
But at least they were on their way again, the road turning and making a path among the vine-draped trees. The jungle of Isla Calamar engulfed them. Branches scraped the sides of the Rover as the road grew more narrow and rutted. Now Dr. Petrie couldn’t avoid bouncing along, and Dana’s stomach clenched in protest. She willed herself to remain calm; she simply would not disgrace herself again.
They traveled for half an hour, perhaps more. Nick didn’t speak to her. The silence seemed a brooding one, broken now and then by the shriek of some exotic bird. The green shadows of the forest pressed in on the Rover, but at last Nick came to a halt. And that was when Dana saw it–the Mayan temple.
It jutted up amid the jungle with all the majesty of its thousand years. Mossy stone upon stone rose in narrowing terraces to the very pinnacle of the pyramid. Underbrush still tangled about the steps, and here and there gnarled tree roots had broken up the dark gray stone. Dana climbed out of the Rover and went to stand at the very base of the temple, craning her neck upward. She was filled with a sense of awe–and gratitude that she could witness this remnant of a vanished civilization. She knew there were more impressive ruins: the great Mayan cities discovered at Palenque, Tikal, Copán. That didn’t matter. This was her ruin, this temple hidden among the forest of mangrove and cypress.
At last she turned to Nick, who had come up beside her. “It’s wonderful,” she murmured. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He said nothing in return, but merely studied her in that disconcerting manner of his. In the mysterious shade of the jungle, his eyes were an even more intense blue than before–and his features even more stern. His gaze might be disapproving, but that didn’t stop her from feeling oddly drawn to the man, as if they shared something unspoken in common. For the space of several heartbeats she gazed back at him. His features had gone taut–perhaps a sign that he, too, felt this odd connection between them. Dana knew it didn’t make sense. Nicholas Petrie was a stranger to her. How could she therefore feel this disturbing sense of closeness to him?
She was the one who glanced away first. Firmly she reminded