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.
“You need to tell her.”
Patrick swiveled his barstool and looked toward the team’s table. Drummer and Lisa came back to the group. Lisa dropped into a chair and blew the bangs out of her eyes while Drummer grasped Maren’s hand and pulled her to her feet.
Maren laughed, tried to pull away, but Drummer shook his head, not letting her off the hook. The short black skirt flitted around her thighs as he tugged her with him and started dancing around her in the middle of the floor. Her amused giggle echoed to Thad’s ears, as sweet as wind chimes.
Patrick sighed. “Maren is suspicious of anything I say. She’s changed a lot. I’m sure you’ve noticed since you’ve been working with her.”
Thad watched her twirl under Drummer’s arm. A smile split her face, making her eyes sparkle, her cheeks rosy, making her a thousand times more beautiful than she already was. Yeah, she was different—more mature, more reserved—but he sorta liked that about her. And the passionate woman he’d fallen for all those years ago was still in there, waiting to come out and play. He’d felt her when she’d finally dropped those walls she’d built around herself and kissed him during that storm. “I noticed. The last nine years made her cautious.”
“Cautious, right. That’s a good description of her,” Patrick said sarcastically. “Look, I know my daughter, and I know she’s eager for a reason to leave. If I give her one, she’ll go. It might sound selfish to you, but I want her to stay. And though she doesn’t quite realize it yet, she needs to stay. She’s been through a lot these past few years. She’d never admit to anyone that things have been hard for her, but they have. I want her to remember what it is about this life that she loves, not only because she’s good at it, but because maybe by doing so, she’ll finally figure out where she’s supposed to be.”
The old man was talking in riddles. Thad lifted one brow and glanced his way. “What do you mean? What happened to her?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not for me to tell you.” Patrick let out a long, weary sigh. “She will, when she’s ready. At least I hope she will.”
He stood and dropped money on the bar. “I’m heading back to camp. I’m too old for this scene. Make sure everyone gets a ride back, would you?”
Thad nodded, lifted his beer, and glanced toward the dance floor again, trying to figure out what the hell Maren’s father had been getting at. But when Patrick stopped and turned back, he looked the old man’s way once more.
Patrick scratched his head. “Professionally, Leighton, I think you’re just about the best salvage expert there is. And God knows, you’re one of the safest divers I’ve seen in a long time. I’d work with you anytime, anywhere. Personally, though”—he glanced over at Maren—“I think you’re a son of a bitch. The last nine years didn’t shape Maren into the woman she is today. Six weeks in the Yucatan did.”
Patrick stalked toward the door, and Thad stared after him, more than a little taken aback. Maren’s father paused long enough to speak briefly with a tall, dark Latino man standing in the doorway. Lisa shrieked, jumped out of her chair, and raced across the room. The man dropped the bag from his shoulder, laughed, then caught her when she threw herself into his arms, wrapping both her arms and legs around him in a tight hug.
The husband. Lisa had said he was showing up sometime later in the week. Thad watched as he hefted her into his arms and kissed her. Watched as her whole demeanor changed and a warm glow enveloped the feisty redhead.
That was what he wanted. That was what he’d been missing. He glanced back to the dance floor, where Maren and Drummer were both looking toward the commotion.
He didn’t know what Patrick was scheming this time, and he didn’t feel much like solving riddles tonight. He wanted Maren. And though he knew he probably should give her a little more time to come to him on her own, the ache growing in his chest warned too much time wasn’t always a good thing where she was concerned. Especially if Patrick gave her that reason to leave before she had time to come to her senses.
He was just about to push off his barstool when a beaming Lisa sidled up to the bar next to him, dragging her husband by the hand. “Leighton, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Rafe Sullivan.”
Thad barely registered the guy’s face, but he managed to shake his hand and ask how his trip down had been.
“Good,” Rafe said, sliding onto the stool Patrick had vacated. “Small plane, though.”
“Not as small as the one Maren and I came down in, I bet.” Lisa stood next to her husband and signaled the bartender. “Two Coronas, please.”
“See if you can get a menu, querida. I’m starving.”
Lisa leaned into her husband and grinned. “You won’t be, once I get you back to our room.”
Rafe’s arm slid around Lisa’s waist, and he whispered something Thad didn’t hear. Music swirled in the air as Lisa started chatting about the dig and the storm and the excitement of the last few days. But Maren’s laughter was like a tingling sensation rushing up and down Thad’s spine, keeping him from hearing anything else. He lasted all of about two minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. “Sorry.” He pushed away from the bar. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Leighton,” Lisa exclaimed at his back. “You’re being rude.”
“Let him go,” her husband said in a low voice. “I want you all to myself anyway.”
Lisa’s throaty chuckle followed Thad out onto the dance floor. Weaving through the small crowd, he headed for the guitarist near the edge of the stage. The band was currently butchering a Bruno Mars song, but it was music and it worked, and if it gave him a few minutes alone with Maren, he’d listen to the off-tun
e lyrics all damn day.
He slipped the musician twenty bucks, locked his eyes on Maren, then headed across the dance floor.
He loved how her gaze found his in the crowd. How her eyes widened when he drew close. How she tensed, knowing he was coming for her.
Drummer must have sensed him, because he turned and drew them to a stop.
“I’m cutting in, Bob,” Thad told him, not looking away from Maren.
“Somehow,” Drummer muttered, “I knew you would.”
Drummer looked toward Maren. When she shrugged, he winked at her, then headed off the dance floor.
Maren stared at Thad, unmoving. Music swirled around them, people moving to the beat on both sides, but she just continued to stand still and stare. And her eyes were so blue, so focused, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
He moved in close, slid one arm around her back, and grasped her hand in his. She didn’t push away, and as her warm, taut body brushed up against his, it was all he could do not to drag her even closer and kiss her senseless.
“What were you and my father whispering about over there?”
He turned them slowly and shrugged. “Nothing. Just talking shop.” He hesitated, thinking back over his conversation with Patrick. “Your father doesn’t like me very much.”
She rolled her eyes. “He seems to think enough of you. I’m the one he’s not wild about.”
He thought about telling her what Patrick had said about Las Hermanas, but then decided not to. At least tonight. If he did, she might get all worked up and stalk off to confront her father. And if Patrick was right and she was really looking for a reason to leave, he’d lose his chance with her. “I think your father loves you. In his own way.”
“In his own way,” she repeated, looking off toward the band. “You mean in his own dysfunctional, never-around way.”
Thad knew her father’s part-time parenting had caused a huge rift between the two. They’d talked about it when they’d been together years ago, and he knew how much Patrick’s blasé attitude had impacted her. But back then he’d thought she’d just been a college kid overdramatizing what was, otherwise, a semi-normal relationship. Now he realized she felt abandoned by him, and that that abandonment was at the root of all her hang-ups where Thad was concerned. Because he’d done the same damn thing her father had done. He’d left her when she’d needed him most.
His chest squeezed even tighter, but he drew a deep breath and tried to lighten the mood. “Sullivan showed up.”
Maren looked over his shoulder toward the bar, where Lisa was leaning against her husband, beaming. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Maren’s mouth. “Rafe’s a great guy. And he’s crazy about Lisa. He’d never let anything happen to her.”
“Unlike me.”
Maren’s smile faded, and her gaze slid his way. “I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you were thinking it.”
Her eyes drifted down to his shoulder, and she bit her lip. Silence settled between them, and as they turned, Thad cursed himself. Dragging up the past wasn’t going to help his cause. And if he wanted Maren back in his life, he needed to make her fall in love with the man he was now, not the stupid kid he’d been back then.
The music shifted, slowed, changed to a familiar steady beat. And he cringed, because he probably should have picked any other song. But he didn’t want to let her go yet, and if he could get her to remember the good times between them, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
She started to pull away, but he dragged her close again. “You can’t leave yet. They’re playing our song.”
Surprised pale blue eyes focused on his. “We never had a song.”
“Sure we did. We danced to ‘Paradise’ in the kitchen of your cabin.” Recognition flickered across her face. He tightened his arm around her back. “We found paradise on that beach.”
Something dark flashed in her eyes, the haunted look tugging on his heart. But before she could pull away, he slid his arm around her waist.
“Come on,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “I promise I’ll be good.” When she hesitated, he hit her where he knew it would hurt. “You don’t want the rest of our group to get the wrong idea, do you?”
She glanced over at the table where Lisa and Rafe had moved with their beers. The group was laughing at something Lisa’s husband was saying. “One more dance won’t kill me, I guess.”
She never could back down from a challenge. That was the same about her too. He bit back the victory smile that wanted to play across his face.
He held her close as the gentle notes of the Bruce Springsteen song wafted over them. God, he’d forgotten how easily she moved with him, how she fit against him like they were made for each other. As they glided around the floor to the slow, steady beat, he felt her muscles relax one by one, watched as her eyes slid shut and she gave herself over to the moment.
His skin tingled beneath his cotton shirt where her hand rested against his shoulder. Her bare arm was silky smooth against his. She was like a fire that wouldn’t die; the one flame he’d never been able to extinguish. Brushing his cheek against hers, he let his heart fill itself with only her.
I’ve missed you, Blondie.
Her body tensed in his arms. And in a flash, he realized he’d said the words aloud. She eased away and lifted her gaze before he could stop her. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her back, but the look that flashed in her eyes stopped him short. In that one moment, he wasn’t sure if what he saw there was relief or regret.
She turned and walked out of the bar, leaving him to watch her go from the middle of the dance floor. The song continued to play, floating around him like an ominous warning. And Patrick’s words—“The last nine years didn’t shape Maren into who she is today. Six weeks in the Yucatan did”—floated in his mind.
Whatever she was hiding, whatever Patrick thought she should tell him, stood between them like a giant wall. Until she opened up to him, they had no chance for a future together. And the only way to get her to confide in him was to prove he wasn’t leaving again.
Before he could change his mind, he followed her out into the darkness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She was a complete fool.
Maren pressed shaking fingers against her temples and tried to slow her hammering heart. She’d told herself not to get sucked back under by him, but it was happening all over again. One look, one touch, and she was putty in his arms.
And what was worse was that she wanted it, wanted him. Not just for a fling like he’d proposed only days ago; she wanted him back for good. And she hated herself for feeling that way again, because Thad Leighton was exactly like her father. He didn’t do happily ever after. He’d said as much. He’d proved it to her nine years ago.
She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Thad behind her until it was too late. His strong arms turned her to face him. “Maren—”
“I’m not falling for this again,” she said in a shaky voice she tried to mask with strength.
His fingers slid into her hair, and before she realized what he was doing, he stepped close, lowered his head, and brushed his mouth against hers.
Every protest died on her lips. He slid his tongue along her mouth, and she opened to him without even thinking. Warmth enveloped her. Consumed her. He dipped into her mouth, tangled his tongue with hers in a dance that sent a shiver all through her body. Then his arms came around her, pulling her so close she couldn’t tell where she stopped and he began.
She’d never been able to forget the taste of him. It was ingrained in her mind, etched in her soul. And now that she was in his arms again, his body pressed up tight to hers, she only wanted more.
Common sense told her to walk away, but desire clamped its hand around her, cementing her in her spot. Her arms slid around his waist as she tipped her head to deepen the kiss, her body demanding more with every tender touch. A wanting ache clenched her heart with each soft stroke of his tongue and gentle graze from
his fingertips.
Reality didn’t settle in until those tempting lips of his broke the kiss. With her eyes still closed, she drew in a long breath and tried to steady her quaking heart. He kissed her jaw, trailed his lips across her cheek, paused at her temple, and held her tight against him.
And oh, man… Unlike the frantic way he’d kissed her during that storm, this was sweet, gentle, so completely seductive, it dragged her right to the edge. She was in too deep. A breath away from losing herself and melting against him, giving in and giving him everything he wanted. A hair away from losing herself in the process.
She braced both hands against his chest. “Thad, don’t.”
“There’s something you need to know, Maren.”
He slid his hands back into her hair and tipped her face up to his. And when her gaze locked on his, when she saw the tender look in his dark-as-night eyes, her heart beat furiously beneath her breast. “I was stupid to think this could be a fling and nothing more. What’s between us is so much stronger than that. I never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped dreaming about you. I want you back, Blondie.”
Her throat closed, and the world seemed to swirl around her. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
She opened her mouth. Tried to find words. Couldn’t seem to make her voice work.
A slow smile spread across his lips, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I know you’re still wary of me, and with good reason. I just want you to know I’m not leaving. When I thought I lost you in that storm, it brought everything into focus. You’re it for me, Maren. The one and only.”
Maren’s head was so light, she was afraid it might spin right off her body. Joy rippled through her limbs and brought her heart to life. And then she thought of Isabel. And Evan.
Her eyes slid closed on a wave of pain so intense, her knees nearly buckled. Isabel he might be able to forgive her for keeping secret, but not what she’d done with the man who’d killed his brother.
She eased out of his arms. “Thad—”
“No,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything. Just…let it be. I don’t want anything from you right now. I just want you to know I’m not giving up on you. I’m never giving up on you.” He trailed his fingers over the locket resting just inside her blouse. “I can be patient until you realize I’m still your hero.”