Mexican Nights (15 page)

After leaving the observatory, they took a break for lunch, which consisted of sandwiches and soft drinks purchased at a stand on the grounds. The afternoon passed quickly, ending with a visit to the sacred cenote, one of two wells at Chichén Itzá. To reach the spot they followed a long causeway north from the northernmost buildings. Standing on the rocky ledge overlooking the well, the sun beating down on them, Terri tried to imagine what it must have been like for the Mayas who were brought there to be sacrificed to the rain god. It was probably sixty feet straight down the rounded walls of the cenote to the surface of the water, which Derek said was forty feet deep.

Diving expeditions had brought up hundreds of artifacts from the cenote as well as numerous human skeletons. As her eyes followed the high wall of the well all the way around, Terri saw that there was literally no way out—nothing to cling to or use in climbing.

Suddenly the dreadful knowledge of what had happened there made her turn away. "I've seen enough. I want to go back now."

Derek eyed her intently and said in a voice that might have held a trace of sympathy. "So do I. We'll call it quits for today. It'll be dark soon anyway. I know of an old hacienda near here that has been turned into a restaurant. We'll have dinner."

They followed the causeway back toward the car. Looking down at her rumpled shorts and halter, Terri said tiredly, "I hope this restaurant isn't too elegant. I'm not exactly dressed for it."

Derek shrugged. "They're used to tourists who wear outlandish garbs."

Terri glanced up at him quickly. Was he insinuating that her attire was outlandish? He was looking straight ahead, and she could not tell if he had meant to insult her or had only been speaking generally. And she was too tired at the moment to pursue the matter.

The restaurant, converted from an ancient overgrown hacienda, was lovely in the falling dusk— surrounded by gardens, the dining room softly lighted. Such a romantic setting, Terri thought sadly, to be wasted on her and Derek. As they were waiting to be seated, a tall, graceful figure of a man approached, the slim, tanned body snugly encased in leg-hugging white duck trousers and a ribbed yellow shirt. With a practiced toss of his head he threw back thick black hair attractively streaked with silver and sauntered up to them.

"Derek! It's a pleasure to see you again so soon." His voice was deep and the glance he slid over Terri was at first bored, then a new gleam came into the dark eyes as he gave her a lazy smile before his look returned to Derek.

Derek pumped the brown hand enthusiastically. "David! This
is
a surprise." Glancing at Terri, he added, "I'd like you to meet Terri Thompson. She's doing the photographic work on my Mexican books. Terri, this is Dr. David Almedo, the archaeologist I went to see yesterday."

Terri extended her hand. "Hello, Dr. Almedo."

The fine-boned, attractive face reflected amused interest. "David, please. So you are Derek's photographer? He told me yesterday that you were with him, but he neglected to tell me that you are also young and pretty." He had a faint Mexican accent overlaid by what must have been years of working and studying in other countries. Although he appeared to be in his early forties, his eyes held the intense curiosity of a much younger man, as if he still found life new and exciting and wanted to experience it to the fullest.

Flushing slightly, Terri said, "I'm afraid I'm not dressed for such a grand establishment."

"Nonsense, seňorita!" He looked down at her body. "You should always dress like that. It would be a shame to put too much on such a body."

She felt added heat underneath the sunburn on her face. "Thank you," she said, trying to behave as if she heard such extravagant compliments every day. "We've spent the day at Chichén Itzá and I tried to dress for your climate. It's even hotter here than in Mexico City."

David brushed this aside with a Gallic shrug. "It's the humidity." He smiled disarmingly and cocked his head at Derek. "No wonder you wanted to keep her tucked away." Looking back at Terri, he continued, "Derek has quite a reputation for discovering beautiful women. I approve of his taste."

Although he was bold and self-assured, his brazen swagger made him somehow less alarming than Derek and, because Derek had made her feel so unattractive and insignificant all day, she was touched by David's brash flattery. He was obviously vain and a lady-killer, but charming nevertheless.

"I have a table in a private alcove," he said, "and I would be honored if you would share it."

Derek, who had been holding himself rather stiffly during the exchange between Terri and David Almedo, began to shake his head. "We couldn't intrude on your party…"

"I'm alone," David cut in. "I'm just returning from Chich
é
n myself. A couple of my students are working on a dig in the unexcavated section, and I go out to check on them once or twice a week." He turned to Terri. "I insist that you join me. I want to get to know your photographer better, Derek."

Terri chanced a quick look at Derek. His expression was impossible to read. Coolly, he said, "Lead on, then, David."

They were soon seated at a table in a small alcove marked off from the main dining room by a Moorish arch and screened by a large pot of lush greenery. David had been prompt to hold Terri's chair for her, and his hand had brushed her shoulder as he moved to take his own seat. She had flickered a glance at Derek in time to catch a polite movement on his hard mouth—the pretense of a smile—but his brown eyes were cold.

"Have you ordered yet?" Derek asked.

David shook his head. "I arrived only seconds before you."

"What a lovely little hideaway," Terri said, admiring a brightly colored Mexican serape displayed on a roughly textured wall.

A waiter appeared and David asked, "What will you have to drink?"

"White wine," Terri said.

"Whiskey," Derek said briefly, settling into his chair, his dark arm resting lightly on the white tablecloth.

David ordered a bottle of wine and whiskeys for himself and Derek. Then he turned to Terri, his long dark lashes half-lowered over the sparkling eyes. She was aware of Derek's long stare as she met David's look. "I eat here frequently," David said to Terri, "and I heartily recommend the Poc-chuc or the Pollo Asado Casero."

Terri smiled, beginning to enjoy the harmless flirtation. "Translate, please."

David grinned. "Pork grilled with tomato and onion—and chicken roasted with achiote, vinegar, and other spices."

"I'll have the chicken," Terri said.

Derek and David ordered Poc-chuc and the waiter left to return shortly with their drinks.

David tilted his glass, smiling at Terri. "To new acquaintances."

Rather nervous under his appraising look, she looked about the small space again. "I didn't see many of these private tables. You must have influence."

"I do," he said unabashedly. "As I said, I dine here frequently, often with guests."

"David is being modest," Derek said rather tartly. "He is well known all over Mexico for his work and—other things."

Across the table, Terri looked at him with impatience. How could he be so rude to an associate, particularly one who was apparently as important as David Almedo? His eyes met her accusing glance wryly.

"Not as well known as Derek is in your country, I'm sure," David said with a trace of irritation.

Derek swallowed the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down with a thump. "Excuse me for a minute." He stood and moved around the pot of greenery, striding across the dining room toward the lounge area.

Conscious of people all around and Derek's imminent return, which assured that things wouldn't get out of hand, Terri smiled into David's dark eyes. "Tell me about the dig your students are working on."

"Merely another pyramid," he said, shrugging. "Have you known Derek long?"

"Only since our arrival in Mexico at the first of the month." He questioned her about her work and seemed genuinely interested in her replies. They talked about the world of the free-lance photographer and then about David's work until Terri said, "Archaeology sounds quite fascinating!"

He gave her a teasing smile. "I am a fascinating man, and I really think you owe it to yourself to get to know me better. I'll take you out to the dig, if you want." The shrewd brown eyes assessed her. "But I don't imagine Derek would like that."

She laughed rather uneasily. "He has my time pretty well booked up, I'm afraid." The intelligent eyes continued to size her up intently. Surely women pursued him constantly. "I'll have to see how things go in the next few days. I'm certain you won't want for feminine companionship, though. You're an extremely charming man, David, as you well know." The last was said thoughtfully, with no intention to flirt.

He smiled, leaning closer to toy with a wayward lock of her blond hair. "As they say in your country, seňorita, you are no slouch yourself."

Behind her, she heard Derek enter the alcove, and David sat straight, while Terri pushed her falling hair back with one hand. "I see you haven't missed me," he said thinly.

"We managed to pass the time," said David lightly.

The waiter appeared a few seconds later with their meal. The food was excellent, superbly cooked. Terri rather belatedly realized that every time she looked away David refilled her wine glass. He carried on a sparkling conversation over dinner, talking about a recent trip to some archaeological zones in Guatemala. "Have you visited that country?" he asked Terri.

When she said that she had not, he went on, "But you must. How can you complete your photographs of the Maya civilization without going there?"

"We'll have to work it in, of course," Derek said, and Terri glanced at him in surprise. It was the first she had heard that Guatemala was a part of their schedule, although she
had
wondered if Derek had employed another photographer for the sites there.

David continued to direct most of the conversation to Terri throughout dinner. Finally, their meal finished, he excused himself to find a waiter to bring them some coffee. Terri had a strong desire to get back to the guest house so she could crawl into bed. The wine had made her drowsy, and the alcove was beginning to feel stuffy. Alone with Derek, she rested an elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand, her eyelids drooping.

"You seem to be having a good time," Derek said sardonically.

Forcing her eyes open, she looked at him sleepily. "David is a charming dinner companion."

"So I've noticed," he said bitingly. "Perhaps I should quietly steal away into the night and leave the two of you alone."

She gazed at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been giving him the come-on ever since you laid eyes on him. I'm sure he'd be delighted to have you all to himself. There is a very nice motel just down the road."

She felt her temper rising. "You're disgusting! He's
your
friend. I was just trying to be nice to him. Of course, you
would
try to turn that into something sordid."

David swept back into the room, followed by the waiter, before Derek could reply. The waiter poured hot coffee into three cups and disappeared again.

Grateful for the diversion, Terri kept her eyes lowered as she lifted her cup and sipped slowly. Seemingly unaware of the tension at the table, David engaged Derek in conversation about some as yet unexcavated Mayan sites in other areas of the Yucatán. Derek's tight-faced look slipped away as his interest in what David was saying increased. Terri remained happily in the background, drinking her coffee in the hope that it would help her to stay awake.

Finally, Derek said, "We're in your debt for allowing us to share your table, David." He reached for his wallet, but David shook his head.

"I've already taken care of the check." Following Derek's example, he got to his feet. "Will I be seeing you again while you're here?"

"I'll come by the university if I'm in Mérida," Derek said noncommittally.

David slanted a wicked glance at Terri. "Make him bring you along next time. I'll show you around town."

Derek's sullen look had returned. "Terri would love that, I'm sure. We've a lot of work to do, but if we can find the time I'll call you."

Terri stood beside Derek, looking up into David's smiling face. "Good," David said.

Abruptly, Derek walked from the alcove, and, as Terri moved to follow him, David took hold of her arm. "Seňorita," he said softly, "are you and Derek lovers?"

She flushed furiously. "No!"

He seemed to relax and said with satisfaction, "That's nice to know. From the way he was acting, I thought—"

Terri brushed past him quickly, saying good night, and caught up with Derek near the entrance doors. David had stopped to talk to the young girl at the cash register, who was gazing at him with adoring eyes. Lounging against the high counter, he waved to them as they left the restaurant.

Derek swung the car back onto the road with spinning tires. He drove in silence, his face unreadable in the dark interior of the car. Terri held herself in an alert sort of readiness beside him, expecting more stinging remarks. His behavior all evening had been puzzling. After treating her practically like a stranger all day, he had seemed angered by the immediate rapport that had sprung up between her and David Almedo. Could he possibly be jealous? Yet he had made it clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her, except the contact necessary to finish this job. His cutting words in the restaurant, however, seemed to indicate that he wasn't quite as disinterested as he had led her to believe. This thought disturbed her, and she wished they had not run into David Almedo.

When they arrived at the guest house, she got out of the car quickly before Derek had a chance to come around and assist her. He walked ahead of her, jangling his keys, and remained silent as he opened the door and preceded her inside, turning on the nearest table lamp.

Angrily, she moved past him and went into the kitchen for a drink of water. She sipped slowly, her head still feeling heavy from the wine she had drunk. She stared at the gleaming sink, remembering the times that Derek had touched her—that night in the hotel room in Mexico City when he had undressed her and put her to bed, when he had forced her to be aware of his masculine desire and had so skillfully brought her answering passion to the surface.