Mexican Nights (13 page)

With firm resolution, she walked to his closed door—and stopped. Still there was no sound from the other side. What should she do. Wake him, of course!

She rapped lightly on the door. Nothing. She rapped again. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Derek, asleep, lay sprawled on his stomach spread-eagled in such a way that his long, lean body covered most of the bed. The white sheet covering him to the waist made his tanned skin look even darker. Hesitantly, Terri tiptoed closer and peered down at him.

His face was turned toward her, the morning light glancing off the protruding cheekbone at an angle that made the hollow beneath dark with shadow. Dark lashes lay against the tanned skin, giving him an oddly vulnerable look. How gentle and harmless he appeared, lying there like that. But by now Terri knew him too well to be deceived. Yet she found that she could not stop looking at him, and so she stood there for several moments, memorizing the firm line of his lips, the dark stubble on his strong chin, the hard muscles across his back. And something inside her throbbed with longing—that same yearning for the unknown that she had felt the night before. Why was it that this infuriating man could arouse feelings in her that were new and strange?

Was it possible to hate and love the same person?
Love
? Where had that come from? Could this jumble of bittersweet confusion that Derek made her feel possibly be love? What a frightening thought! And absurd! She wouldn't let herself fall in love with a man like Derek Storm!

Shaking her head, as if unacceptable thoughts could be dislodged in such a way, she bent and placed a hand lightly on his bare shoulder.

"Derek, breakfast is ready."

He groaned a protest and stirred slowly. "Wh— what?"

"Breakfast is ready," she repeated in a voice that unexpectedly shook a little.

Muttering something unintelligible, he turned over onto his back, dragging the sheet with him, although one long bare leg was now exposed. He ran both hands through sleep-tousled dark hair, yawned, and opened his eyes. His sleepy gaze fell on Terri standing beside his bed, and he smiled slowly. "Good morning, Terri. What a lovely sight to wake up to."

She felt herself blushing. "I—I'm sorry to wake you, but I've got breakfast ready. I'm keeping it warm in the oven—but it'll be ruined if we don't eat it soon."

He was still smiling, his dark gaze sweeping over her in frank appraisal. "It'll keep for a little while yet, won't it?"

"Well—yes, I suppose so—if—but—" Heavens, why
was
she floundering like this? "Since you're awake, you might as well get up and eat, hadn't you?"

The brown eyes looking at her so intently made her feel all weak inside. "I have a much better idea," he drawled.

"What?" she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious and very unsure of herself.

"Why don't you join me first? This bed is big enough for two." One hand lifted the edge of the sheet, and she saw more tanned bare skin. It was then that the shocking truth dawned on her. He wasn't wearing anything beneath that sheet! Her cheeks flamed as she backed toward the door.

"I—I'll wait for you in the other room." She turned and ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

From the sitting room, she could hear Derek laughing. Oh, how mortifying! Furthermore, she'd asked for it, going into his bedroom like that. Her face still felt hot with embarrassment.

She heard him moving about the bedroom and, knowing that she couldn't face him immediately, she left the guest house. She followed a path that led into a small garden where there was a white wrought-iron bench beneath a big laurel tree. She sank onto the bench and tried to compose herself.

She had known coming here with Derek wasn't a good idea, and things were proving to be even more uncomfortable than she had imagined. Not only uncomfortable—there was danger in this situation. Not that she really thought Derek would force her into anything against her will. Ah, and there was the rub—her will. How strong was it? Stronger than these strange new emotions that churned inside her? She wasn't sure that it was, and that was a frightening thing to contemplate. What was happening to her? She hardly knew herself anymore.

A short while later Derek appeared. He was wearing jeans and a blue-and-tan striped knit shirt. Freshly shaved and groomed, he looked so vibrant and alive that Terri's heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a strong hand until she was breathless.

"Aren't you coming in to eat breakfast?"

She got to her feet, moving quickly past him. "Yes. I just needed a breath of fresh air."

He had caught up with her and, although she was aware of his quizzical gaze resting on her, he did not speak again until they had reached the guest house.

"I cleared the table, put your contact sheets over there on the chair." He watched her cross the sitting room with a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes.

"I'll bring in the food," she said, disappearing into the kitchen.

As they sat down to eat, Derek gave her a slanting smile. "Am I getting the ice maiden treatment because of my risqué suggestion in the bedroom earlier?"

His use of that label angered Terri, especially since she was feeling like anything but ice inside.

"I was only teasing you a little," he continued. Had he really been teasing? If so, she had certainly overreacted. But how was she to know when he was serious and when not?

"What—oh." She buttered a piece of toast with feigned indifference. "I'd forgotten all about that. I—I was thinking about the day's work—on the book, I mean. It's your turn to do the dishes after breakfast."

He sighed elaborately. "Ah, Terri, I'll bet you're keeping a tally somewhere. Are you really going to be hard-nosed about all this equality of the sexes business?" He grinned wickedly. "Don't you know how to play house?"

"Really, Derek!" She felt her cheeks flaming and grabbed the coffeepot, pouring more coffee into her cup to cover her confusion. "I didn't come here to play house! My only interest is in getting our work done so we can return to Mexico City. In spite of what you seem to think, I know I can satisfy you."

"I'm counting on it." Did she imagine it or was there a predatory gleam in his eye? She met his gaze with an effort. Yes, she was certain there had been a double meaning in that last remark. Oh, he was the most infuriating man she'd ever known!

He sipped his coffee, still smiling at her over the rim of the cup. "You look a little worried, Terri. Is something troubling you?"

Hah! That was the understatement of the year! "I—I was just thinking. Did you bring your Maya manuscript with you?" It was the only halfway sensible thing she could think of to say.

"The first draft. It's still pretty rough, though. Why do you ask?"

"I thought, if I could read it, I might get some ideas for photographs."

"Good idea." The tone was approving, but the look in his eyes was still mocking.

Terri finished her coffee and folded her napkin beside her plate. "Where is it? I'd like to start reading it right now."

Disconcertingly, he chuckled. "All right. I see I'm not going to get out of doing the dishes." He went into his bedroom, returning in a few minutes with the manuscript in a typing paper box.

Relieved to have something to do besides parry Derek's double entendres, Terri curled up on the couch in the sitting room and began to read while Derek cleared the table. A few minutes later, she heard him whistling as he ran water into the kitchen sink. Abruptly, the memory of him as she'd seen him yesterday, so at home in the kitchen, returned to her. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would never have believed that he had a "domestic" side. "Playing house," he had called it. Had he "played house" with other women? Margarite Lopez? Well, what if he had? It was no concern of Terri's and she shouldn't waste time thinking about it.

Stick to business, she admonished herself sharply, forcing thoughts of Derek away as she began concentrating on the manuscript.

"I have an appointment in Mérida." The sudden voice in the stillness brought her back abruptly from the world of the ancient Mayas. Derek was standing beside the couch; she had been so engrossed she hadn't heard him come into the room. "I'm going to see an archaeologist who teaches at the University of the Yucatán. He's been working at the Chich
é
n site. There are a few phone calls I need to make, too, and I can probably do that from his office. You don't mind being left alone for a while, do you?"

"Uh—no, of course not."

Sunlight falling through the sitting room window burnished his dark hair with an almost auburn sheen as he looked down at her. "We'll go to Chichén Itzá tomorrow. You'll appreciate it more after having read my manuscript." He was certainly all brusque business now.

"I'll be fine here," Terri told him. "Will you be gone long?"

"I doubt it," he said noncommittally. He was halfway to the door, as if he were suddenly eager to get away from her. As he opened the door, he turned to say goodbye, but the eyes that met hers were already seeing other things.

She read straight through until midafternoon before she stopped to make a sandwich and iced tea. The sounds she made as she moved about the kitchen seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the guest house. She took her sandwich and tea back to the sitting room and ate, looking out at the courtyard. Where
was
Derek? He had been gone more than four hours. He had probably gotten involved in a long discussion about the Mayas and lost all track of time. Or maybe he was making those phone calls now. That would not take long, surely, unless one of them was to Margarite Lopez…

She pushed this thought aside resolutely and carried her plate and cup back to the kitchen, where she washed them and put them away. Back in the sitting room, she returned to the manuscript and read until the words started to run together and her head began to nod.

Jerking awake, she glanced at the window and discovered, to her surprise, that it was growing dark. Putting the manuscript aside, she got up to walk around the sitting room, plumping up throw pillows. As the minutes dragged by, she began to hear mysterious night sounds, cracks and creakings of a settling house. Strange that she had not heard those sounds the night before; but that was probably because she had not been apprehensive then, and so had not been listening for them so intently.

At seven Derek still had not come, so Terri ate her dinner, leaving his in the refrigerator. Then she cleaned up after herself and returned to the sitting room. She turned on two lamps and settled down on the couch with a travel magazine she found in the drawer of one of the lamp tables. She turned page after page and gradually became drowsy. Her eyelids grew heavy and the magazine slid onto the floor.

She felt so warm and comfy; the dream she was having was pleasant—like a satin sheet against her body, hugging her, clinging to her. But the dream was trying to drift away from her, and Terri resisted, snuggling into the softness, wrapping herself around it, trying to go deeper into the dream.

Something heavy and warm rested against the skin of her back just above the waist. It moved slowly, stroking her silky skin with such sensuous warmth that Terri smiled in her sleep. It was a hand, and it moved upward across her back, and the stroking continued.

Now warm, moist lips were tracing the line of her brow and touching her closed eyelids gently. The clean male smell surrounding her was familiar, unmistakable. Derek was back. His lips were working their way slowly downward, touching her cheek and the tip of her nose, then settling so very gently on her mouth, where they moved with delicious provocation. Such a lovely feeling was unfolding in Terri's midsection and traveling slowly throughout her body. She wanted it to go on and on, an extension of her dream.

But she was coming awake and finding it impossible not to respond to the warm mouth that was plundering hers so sweetly. A drowsy, muffled moan escaped her as her arms wound themselves around Derek's neck.

At last Derek lifted his head to whisper "Hello, sleepyhead."

"You were gone so long," she murmured drowsily.

He nuzzled her neck, tracing the outline of one earlobe with his tongue and finally taking it into his mouth to tug gently, sending a wanton tremor through Terri. "Umm, so you missed me?" he inquired softly.

Terri was wide awake now and warning bells were going off in her brain. She wriggled in Derek's arms, trying to shift away from that seductive, caressing mouth. "It got dark and I—I felt uneasy being here alone." There was a breathless catch in the words.

He lifted his head and smiled down at her. "I'm back now, so you can relax." The devil's gleam in his eyes caused her to shiver.

"Wh-what took you so long? I read practically that whole manuscript, and there's a tuna salad in the refrigerator for you—"

He laid a finger over her mouth. "Shh. You talk too much." Then his head began to lower again, his lips coming closer. She knew that she should stop him, but instead her lips, still tingling with the pleasure of his earlier kiss, reached up to meet his eagerly. Her mouth opened under the pressure of his, yielding, molding itself to the shape of his. A surge of wanton pleasure rushed through her as his tongue explored the sweetness of her mouth, drawing a soft moan from a deep-down passion that she had not even known she possessed. Never had she felt like this. Never had she known this boneless, letting-go sensation that had invaded her innermost being.

Her eyelids fluttered open as she realized that he was moving away from her, and an involuntary sound of protest escaped her.

Derek laughed softly, huskily, as he scooped her up into his arms. "Don't worry, my pretty, I'm not going anywhere without you."

Dazedly, she felt herself being lifted and carried, and she snuggled her face into the warmth of his neck, wishing that she could stay there always in that lovely, secure place.

He was lowering her again and she opened her eyes to look around. This was her bedroom, and Derek was laying her on her bed—and was lying down beside her. This was what all the caresses and the kisses had been leading up to. All of her senses were fully awake now, and as Derek reached out to pull her against him, her guard came up—belatedly, but there at last.