Nightbound (15 page)

“I woke up when I heard you talking to the stairs,” he informed her. “Then you came over to my bed, flopped on top of me, and here we are.”

“I am so sorry.” No, if she was honest, she wasn’t. Being sprawled on top of him felt good—more than good—and his voice stroked her like a warm silk glove. It made her whole body want to rub itself all over him.

I want to have sex with him.

Alys had never felt such a purely physical impulse, but it didn’t frighten her. Neither did Beau. Although he was big and quite strong, he’d always been careful with her while they were working. He would probably be equally as gentle if they were naked. She wanted to be naked with him.

She looked up at him again. “Do you like me?”

He laughed. “Yes, Alys, I like you. I like you very much.” He sat up, holding her in his arms. “Any bumps or bruises this time?”

“No, I feel wonderful.” She should flutter her eyes at him, or rub her hand on some part of his body, but she wasn’t sure which would be more effective. She also didn’t want to appear clumsy, not when she wanted to be graceful and alluring for him.

Beau’s muscles tightened as he gathered her up in his arms.

He’s going to initiate this.
Alys felt relieved; for her the first physical overture had always been the most awkward part of sex.

As Beau stepped off the bed and straightened, she
glanced down. “What are you doing?” Could they have sex standing up? Considering the differences in their heights, it seemed unlikely. Unless he held her up in the air.

“I’m putting you back to bed.” He carried her over and gently put her down on the mattress before he retrieved and shook out her linens. “Was it another nightmare about the church?”

“No, we were here. The girls and I. There were two little girls.” As he draped her sheets and coverlet over her, Alys subsided against the pillows. “No one has ever carried me like that. It’s nice.”

“I can be a very nice man.” He said that oddly, and bent over to kiss her forehead. “Sleep, and try not to walk while you do.”

Sleeping was the last thing on her mind, but she pretended to as she listened to him return to his bed. That he hadn’t wanted to have sex with her made her stomach feel tight, but she acknowledged that she had misinterpreted his actions and come to an erroneous conclusion.

She wished she hadn’t. Beau behaved as if he liked her, and never appeared bored around her. She’d already admitted to herself that she found him very attractive. Hearing his voice made her feel safe, and being in his bed had aroused her. But he hadn’t responded to her subtle overtures, and took no initiative of his own.

A thought occurred to her. “Beau, are you still awake?”

He muttered something unintelligible in response.

“Are you married, or emotionally involved with someone?”

He made an odd sound, and then mumbled what sounded like a “No.”

With the way Brenda and all the female interns had been ogling him, that didn’t seem probable to Alys. “Why not?” Another possibility came to mind, and she sat up. “Are you gay? Is that it?”

The sound of a thud came from his direction. “No, Alys. I’m not married or involved, nor do I chase after other men. What I am is bloody exhausted. Now, good night.” He pulled the pillow over his head.

“U
sually we don’t have a problem with borrowing equipment from other colleges,” Charles said to Beau as he handed him a case of bottled water from the back of the van. “I thought we’d be able to get at least one research submersible on loan. But these other teams got there before us and grabbed everything, even scuba gear and wet suits.”

Beau stacked the case with the rest on the hand truck. “You’re certain these other archaeologists are working in the area.”

“That’s what they put in the equipment checkout logs,” Charles said. “I Googled the addresses on my phone, and their campsites are only a couple of miles apart, just west of the old village. The American team is so close to the property line they can probably jump the fence. I bet they do so they can spy on us, the assholes.”

“Charles.” Alys appeared, her expression as stern as her tone. “However much they behave like one, please do not refer to any colleague as a body orifice. They generally
dislike it, and someday you may have to work for one of those assholes.”

Brenda giggled as she and Chan joined them. “I didn’t think you knew how to swear, Dr. Stuart.”

Alys gave Beau a narrow look. “Everyone has hidden talents.”

“Someone left this at the hotel for you, Dr. Stuart.” Chan handed her a sealed gift box stamped with the words
PIRATE WORLD
. “Maybe it’s some complimentary tickets?”

“Too heavy for that.” Alys broke the seal and lifted the lid to reveal three large, glittering green gems.

Beau went still.

“Oh, my God. They’re gorgeous.” Brenda leaned over to look. “Look at how huge they are.”

“About thirty carats each.” Alys took one out of the box and held it up. “If they were real.”

“They’re not?”

“They’re fakes.” She frowned as Beau plucked the emerald out of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Admiring your gift,” he said before he handed it back to her. “Dr. Stuart is right. They’re made of glass.”

“Thank you for confirming the obvious.” Alys emptied the other gems into her palm and looked under the cotton liner. “No card.” She glanced at Chan. “You’re sure these were left for me?”

He nodded. “At least, that’s what the guy at the front desk said.”

“That’s odd. Maybe it’s some sort of park promotional deal. I’ll call the hotel later.” Alys tucked the box into her backpack, and her eyes shifted briefly to Beau. “Brenda, you and Chan can finish processing the last of
the soil samples.” After the two interns headed for their workstations, Alys turned to Charles. “Those artifact logs aren’t going to update themselves. Get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The intern made a face at Beau before hurrying off.

“I saw that,” Alys called after him before she eyed Beau. “And you. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t encourage the interns to waste time. We have only seventeen days left to work, and I have to put something in my project summary report other than ‘Stood around gossiping with project manager.’”

Beau nodded and frowned as he watched her stalk off. Over the last five days Alys had grown increasingly short-tempered with her students, showing little of her former patience and sometimes snapping at them over the slightest mistake. Beau knew he was the cause, as she’d actively avoided him all week, barely speaking a handful of words to him whenever she couldn’t.

He knew why she was so angry with him. Her dark mood had begun one morning a week past, when he’d caught her slipping out of the cloister soon after they’d gone to bed. He’d assumed Alys was sleepwalking again, until he found her setting up her ridiculous little tent beside the church again. She’d insisted she wanted to sleep outside, even as she’d stood shivering in the cold morning wind.

Tired and in no mood for another debate, Beau had settled the argument by picking her up and carrying into the cloister. Once he’d deposited her back in her bed, he’d told her that if he caught her sneaking outside again, he’d burn the bloody tent. She’d turned her back on him in a huff, and the next night had refused to speak to him at all.

Alys’s anger wouldn’t be so difficult to bear if Beau hadn’t been wrestling with his own dark mood. The damned woman hadn’t the faintest idea of how lovely she was, how good she smelled, or how sorely she tempted him. When he looked upon her, he didn’t see a child, or a young sister. He saw a woman he wanted to touch and breathe in and hold. When he heard her showering in the next room, he drove himself half-mad thinking of her naked and wet. After they retired for the day, he would lie and listen to her breathing, and watch the outline of her breasts lift and fall, his hands clenched against the need to touch them.

No, if anyone should be sleeping in a tent outside, it should be him.

He had not touched her,
would
not touch her. He could not take such a risk. As she had pointed out, they had but seventeen days left to work, and while that now seemed to Beau like an eternity of torment, he could endure it.

Fortunately Charles had given him something else to dwell on besides Alys’s myriad allures: the two other archaeological teams that had encamped in the area. One or both of them could be the
tresoran
traitors; using the guise of a dig would allow them to openly search for the emeralds. Once the interns left and Alys went to sleep, he’d have to scout their encampments.

After he put away the supplies Charles had brought, Beau went to check on Alys, following her scent to the mission’s kitchen, where she had hung a large map of the site marked with a grid pattern. She was standing before the map when he found her, consulting it as she wrote notes in a small diary.

He cleared his throat. “May I have a word with you?”

Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t look up from her notes. “Go ahead.”

“While we were
gossiping
, Charles told me that he was unable to borrow any equipment from the universities.” He waited for her to say something, but she only nodded. “I can send a request to the high—to the foundation for the gear you need.”

“Fine. Do it.”

Beau didn’t like talking to the back of her head, and came around her so that he could see her lovely, stubborn face. “You’ll need to tell me exactly what you want.”

“What do I want?” She tapped the end of her pencil against her bottom lip. “I’d like seventeen weeks—no, make that seventeen months—to continue work here. I’d like a dozen qualified, experienced excavators, artifact handlers, and associate archaeologists who won’t act like they’re on spring break or treat this project like a glorified Easter egg hunt. You’re not writing this down. Do you know how to write? I ask because I’ve never seen you do it.”

“You’re right.” Beau held up his hands in surrender. “We should talk later.”

When he turned away, she darted around him to stand in his way. “Wait. You want answers, and so do I. Why don’t we trade? I’ll give you an answer for every one you give to me.”

He could smell the anger rolling off her skin, and felt his own temper begin to fray. “You want to make a game of it?”

“I want answers. Here.” She flipped to a blank page in her notebook. “I’ll start making a list of mine for you. I
want a small research submersible,” she said, writing as she spoke, “with dual remote controls, an onboard camera, probe and collection attachments, and a retracting tether.” She looked up at him. “All right. Why have you been following me, and how, exactly, are you locating me when you do?”

“That’s two questions.” And two answers he couldn’t give her.

She began writing again. “I’m adding a wireless video transmitter for the submersible. That’s two answers. Your turn.”

To keep from snatching the notebook out of her hands and ripping it apart, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why do you think I’m following you?”

“I don’t think; I know. You followed me into the woods yesterday, and to the palmetto grove the day before, and to the pond the day before that.” She gave him a measuring look. “I see. You’re not going to tell me the truth. Or you’re going to try to charm me into whatever you want me to think. Never mind.” She walked toward the kitchen’s back entry.

Grimly he held on to his self-control as he followed her. “Alys, you’re calling me a liar before I’ve said a word.”

“You’re stalling instead of answering, you’re avoiding my eyes, and you’re hiding your hands.” She ducked under some hanging vines and stepped outside. “
That
tells me you’re going to lie to me.”

“You’ve told the interns not to go off on their own,” he reminded her as he kept pace with her. “So yes, I have been following you, to protect you.”

“You didn’t see me leave camp when I went to the
grove. You were behind the church, changing that flat tire on the van. You were in the stables helping Chan straighten the handle on the trolley when I walked out to draw some water from the spring.” She stopped and glared at him. “And I know you were taking a shower when I went into the woods yesterday. I waited until you did before I left, and I erased my footprints from the trail with a palmetto leaf as I walked. I was very careful.”

She was also too bloody perceptive. “This is not a large area, Alys. There are only so many places you can go.”

“Don’t you patronize me,” she snapped. “You know every time I leave the camp, and wherever I go, you find me within a few minutes. Even when I make sure that you can’t. So.” She gestured at him. “How are you doing it?”

“If I give you this secret, you must never repeat it.” When she nodded, he bent down to whisper next to her ear, “I ask the others where you have gone, and they tell me.”

She tried to push him away, failed, and nearly fell on her bottom. “You are utterly infuriating.”

“I’m not the one covering my tracks,” he pointed out.

“But you are hiding something.” The fiery note her anger added to her scent abruptly cooled, and her eyes took on a suspicious brightness. “This isn’t a game, Beauregard. This is my career, my future. All the work I’ve done, year after year of study and research and planning, it’s all brought me here. I’ve been given one chance to prove myself, and my time is rapidly running out. What happens to me for the rest of my life will be decided in the next two weeks. I’ve been trusting you, and maybe that was a huge mistake. If you’re here to stop me or discredit me—”

“Alys, no.” He reached out to her.

She caught his hand in hers. “Then tell me. Tell me who you are, and why you’re here. Please.”

Slowly he withdrew his hand from hers, and silently cursed Richard as he repeated the lie. “I am not here to harm you or the project. I was sent only to help. You know who I am.”

“No, I don’t.” She shook her head, backing away from him, and touching her face in surprise as she felt the tear spilling down her cheek. She glanced at her fingers, and then Beau. “I want to, but I don’t think I ever will.”