Drawing Deep (14 page)

“Still inside you?” He nuzzled the tender flesh where her shoulder met her neck. “I’m exactly where I want to be. However.”

Slowly, he pulled his fingers free from her body, raised them to his mouth, and sucked, his eyes falling to half mast. The erotic sight had her core clenching in renewed sexual interest.

A groan of approval reverberated in his throat. “Better than I could have imagined.” His hands stroked over her, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “And I’ve imagined your taste often.”

Even as a tremor went through her, he let out a frustrated curse. Within seconds her clothing was righted and he moved several steps away from her, leaving her feeling suddenly cold. Before she could ask what the hell was going on, she heard car engines, saw the flash of headlights as three vehicles pulled into the parking lot. She and Santos were far enough away that the occupants wouldn’t have seen them, but that didn’t erase the sudden awkwardness that invaded.

“I should get back.” When he only looked at her, she shifted her weight in uncertainty. What? Did he expect her to thank him for that mind blowing orgasm? Because frankly, he deserved a medal. The man was a champion orgasm giver.

She dropped her gaze. “Uhm. Thanks.” Still not looking at him, she went to move past him, stopping when he touched her arm. Her eyes landed on his in question. “Yes?”

His response was to fill his hands with her face, kiss her softly. “You forgot something.”

As if drawn by a magnet, her eyes dropped to his crotch, and the bulge that stretched the material tight over his thigh.

“I, ah.” Another flick of her eyes to the house and back to him. Did he want her to take care of his need? Now? It was only fair, and she’d be lying if the thought of tasting him didn’t fill her with excitement, but the sound of voices and laughter from the front of the house as the returning guests exited the vehicles put a check on that desire.

Santos chuckled. “As much as it pains me, I only meant this.” This was the key card in his hand.

Her face grew hot and she wondered if she should just walk right off the cliff. She took the card from him. “Right. Thanks.”

Really, what was wrong with her? She’d had sex before. She was a strong, independent woman, and here she was fluttering and stuttering like a virgin facing a long-desired crush who’d suddenly shown an interest in her.

Before she could run away, Santos kissed her again. “Until next time.” With that promise ringing in her ears, she made her way back across the grass, knowing deep inside that should she glance over her shoulder, it would be to find him watching her the entire way.

“What are these?’ Ria muttered to herself, bringing her eyes level with the topmost carved stone she was cleaning with a small brush. At the base of the image was a rectangle, and in that rectangle it appeared the artist had etched the capital letter I.

Glancing up at the scattered clouds in the afternoon sky, she frowned. Though plenty of light illuminated the underground ruin, it wasn’t enough to aid her in seeing the fine detail on the wall in front of her.

Without a word to Lance, who was doing some of his own cleaning at the foot of the strange stone section of the ruin, she climbed down from the stepladder and crossed to a tarp that was spread over the uneven ground. Picking up a penlight, she made her way back, pausing to ask Lance, “How are things going down there?”

He shook his head in amused disgust. “How is it that, though I’m taller than you, I have to sit in the dirt and start at the bottom while you get to remain nice and clean and start at the top?”

Ria grinned and batted her lashes. “Because, being the gentleman you are, you wouldn’t like to see little ole me get dirty.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like you’re afraid of a little dirt.”

Still smiling, she ascended to her spot and flicked on the light. It was definitely an I. Or possibly the Roman numeral one. She just wasn’t positive.

As that thought sank in, she rolled her eyes at herself. Instead of climbing back down and scooting the ladder over, and thus knocking Lance from his current position, she turned her attention several rows down to the next etched stone in easy reach. Impatient, she brushed at the dirt, found another little rectangle. It bore the imprint of the letters IV.

Her head reared back. She was going to have to go with Roman numerals. Another frown marred her expression. Roman coins and now Roman numerals? It didn’t make sense.

She turned and looked at her surroundings, tapping the brush on her thigh.

Each wall was covered in the same wide, rough, cream-colored blockwork and rose approximately fifteen feet high and curved at the corners so the whole structure was slightly oval in shape. By utilizing the boring tool in her case, they found the wall to be about eight inches deep at the top, just under two feet at the base. The steps were created by flat sided stones of varying size and colors that reminded her of the ocean; blues, greens, grays. All now dulled and rough by time and use.

She and Lance had gone over each wall and the steps with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any other markings or pictographs before focusing their concentration on this particular portion.

Jutting out from the main wall about half an inch, it reached a height just under eight feet with the width a tad over three feet. The coloring of each stone was a whitish-gray with a rough texture. No two stones were the same shape or size and the etchings weren’t in any particular order or placement. Overall, it came across as an odd addition.

Ria and Lance still thought it might be an altar.

Based on the information gleaned from Gwen, the group already hypothesized the five foot difference was what had separated the ruin from the house above it. Even so, they still had no clue how the dirt got there, or why all the walls had been smeared with enough dirt to hide them from view.

Now somewhere, somehow, she had to plug the mystery of the Roman coins and numerals into this whole mess.

How Chris could think there was nothing here was beyond Ria. Uncovering treasures might pay the rent, but, in her estimation, the real pay-off was the hunt, the unraveling of how the story, or myth, came about.

Turning back to the pictograph, she switched the brush for one of the dental picks she carried in her pocket and cleaned out the embedded dirt. For the second time, she reared back, her heart jumping in her chest. What she had assumed was a depiction of the Egyptian sun god, Ra, lacked a brow, and the lines flowing below didn’t stem from that single, slanted eye. Those lines were thin and parallel to each other.

What stared unblinkingly out from the stone was a cat’s eye, complete with whiskers.

Yes, her thinking could be compromised, considering she’d had cats on her mind lately. But then again, it made sense. If Claude Morgan was the ancestor of the Felix family, he, in all probability, might also have been a jaguar shifter. They didn’t just come out of thin air, and it wasn’t like one could be turned into a shifter. One was born a shifter.

“It seems Santos has taken an interest in you.”

The statement caught her so off guard Ria almost dropped the dental pick on Lance’s head. “He, ah, was just upset over what happened yesterday.”

“Ria.” Her name was a mild reprimand.

“Lance.” She mirrored his tone.

Silence reigned for a while and she went back to work on the topmost etching.

“He guarded you in the kitchen. That’s not someone who’s upset. That’s protective. And possessive.”

She wished the pick was a hammer so she
could
drop it on his head. “Not having this conversation with you.”

Lance adjusted his position almost awkwardly. “It’s just...”

Ria glanced down when he trailed off. “What?”

His face, when he looked up at her, was filled with concern. “There’s probably something you should know.”

Her mouth snapped shut. Was he about to tell her he knew what Santos was? She might have told herself she and Lance were going to have a talk yesterday, but, now that it seemed imminent, she wasn’t ready for it. How could she hear it, knowing she kept her own secret from him. Someone she considered a friend.

She shoved down the stab of guilt. “There’s nothing going on between Santos and I, so if whatever you have to say doesn’t involve the dig, then it’s irrelevant.”

“If it involves you,” Lance countered, “then, as my friend, it’s very relevant.”

And the guilt grew thicker. “That’s sweet, Lance, but I’m a big girl and – ”

The rest of her words were interrupted by his cell phone. With a sound of frustration, he opened it. Above him, Ria ran a shaking hand through her hair.

“No shit? Are you sure?”

Turning back to her work, she listened with half an ear at Lance’s continued comments of surprise until she could no longer stand it. She glared down at him until he finally hung up and tilted his head, grinning like a loon.

“Well? What was that all about?”

“It seems that Teri’s got a bun in the oven, and you’ll never guess who supplied the yeast.”

Ria shook her head, not understanding why he found the pregnancy of a co-worker, particularly their boss’s assistant, amusing. Then it hit her. “Oh. Are you kidding me?” Her voice went into a hiss. “Chris?”

Lance winked at her. “And you win the round trip for two to Hawaii. Can you believe that? Robby’s girl dropped off his stuff for the Alaskan trip over at Teri’s today where a ticked off mama-to-be blurted everything out. Seems she told Chris yesterday and he is totally and completely not thrilled.”

Ria crossed her arms. “So he was diddling his assistant even as he was trying to diddle me? What a jerk. If he was here rather than digging through the debris piles with Robby, I’d strangle him.”

Lance shrugged. “Teri never hid her interest in him, and, while I don’t necessarily condone office liaisons, they are both consenting adults.”

“He took advantage.”

“He’s Chris. If it’s there and available, he’ll take it.”

About to retort, his words caused something to click. Lips compressed, she surveyed her surroundings once again, eyes blurring with a burgeoning possibility. Like a bullet, she leapt from the stepladder and raced for the stairs.

“Wait!” Lance hailed her. “You can’t go off half-cocked.”

Several feet from the top, she plunked herself down on a step and placed her eyes at ground level. “Shush,” she held Lance off with a raised hand.

After a few moments where she twisted her head this way and that, Lance whispered, “What is it?”

“Taking advantage of what’s available.” She muttered. Then she was up and moving again, racing to the edge of the clearing.

Of course Lance followed her out, and when she lay down on her side, facing the hole in the earth, he put his hands on his hips. When she rolled to the other side, he only shook his head. “Yeah. You certainly do have a phobia about getting dirty.”

Silent, she rose and jogged to the far side of the clearing where she repeated her seemingly erratic behavior. Then a third time. A fourth.

By the time she focused her attention on Lance, she was covered in dirt. “I think a meteor made this. The ground slopes. The ruin at the bottom of the apex.”

Lance folded his arms, looked skeptically from Ria to the open pit. “Seriously?”

“Possibly.” She corrected. “It would account for the missing dirt. Whoever made the ruin took advantage of what was available. Used the built-up soil around the crater to fill in the outside area of the blocks and over the top of the roof, completely encapsulating it but for the steps. Also accounts for why such a large area is totally devoid of life. Too much iron.”

Lance turned a slow circle, pondering her theory. “Okay. Even if that solves the how, it doesn’t solve the why or who. I still believe it was used for food storage. Florida gets hot in the summer, but underground, it’s cooler. Same temp year-round.”

Hunched over, legs crossed, Ria tapped her fingers on the ground. “Or used as storage for treasure.” When Lance looked back at her, she shrugged. “We still have to consider the coin you guys found, not to mention the Roman numerals on the altar.”

“Roman numerals?”

As she explained, Lance’s brows shot higher on his face. “Oh man. That kind of information could only be brought from overseas.”

Ria nodded. “Say like from a French pirate several hundred years ago. Someone with a reputation for being smart, stealthy and plundering ships that consisted of all kinds of goods. Didn’t matter what was on them. He absconded with it all. He was a risk taker, and half the fun was taking that risk.” That idea popped out of her mouth, echoing her earlier sentiment about herself. It wasn’t necessarily the treasure that was the reward, but the hunting it down.

“I want to check out that rock garden clearing.” Ria decided, standing and brushing off her clothes, not that it did much good. “You have the map?”

The map consisted of an accurate drawing done by Gwen that showed the various trails and clearings in the reserve. Lance pulled it from shirt pocket and handed it over. “You don’t think another meteor caused that one, do you?”

There was a hint of censure in his question and Ria shook her head. “No, but I still want to check it out.” As she studied the map, she felt a tingle on the back of her neck. Much like she felt that first night when the group had arrived.

She scanned the trees, and saw nothing. “There’s camera’s all over, right?”

Lance smirked. “Yeah. Anyone watching saw you rolling around on the ground like an ecstatic dog.”

Ria shot him a dark look. “Not amusing.”

“I think it’s hilarious.” When she only continued to glower, he manfully swallowed his mirth. “A couple here, another dozen or so scattered around the reserve. Why?”

“Just curious.” She headed toward the trail that would lead her to the rock garden. “I’ll be back in bit.”

“Don’t you think I should go with you?”

“I’d rather you work more on the altar. I want to see if all of the pictographs have a Roman numeral allotted to them.”

“Sure, but – “ His phone rang again, this time when he saw who was calling, he let out a sound of interest. “It’s Arturo. I sent him a picture of the coin yesterday. Asked if he’d ever come across one before.” As she’d done as well. They might work together, but their professional contacts weren’t necessarily the same. Widening the net was the best way to catch any fish.

“Get it. I’ll be fine.” She waved off his uncertainty. “Probably be back before you’re finished gabbing.”