Risky Surrender Read online

  “We come from two totally different worlds, McCall. And… And I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.” She stood.

  He got to his feet. “Look at me, Lucy.”

  Fuck if her green eyes didn’t trap him in a web of concern and fortitude. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like… I don’t know! I told you I was here for the Tlaloc sculpture and that hasn’t changed.”

  “A lot has changed.” He wanted to help put her painful past to rest. Wanted to protect her and fight for her, no matter what. And when a guy had those kinds of feelings and impulses, he acted on them despite what it might cost.

  “You don’t understand.” She toyed with the hem of her shorts.

  “Explain it to me.” He wished she’d toss aside the self-isolation she clung to. He hated feeling like he was stumbling in the dark. “Please.”

  She looked away.

  “We don’t have to take opposite sides on this.” From their work together, McCall could see Lucy cared about the village. She might be surveying it, but she was also admiring it. “Do you know where the sculpture is? We could come up with a plan together. Bring attention to the site and the sculpture. If you think you can get it with minimal structural damage, we’ll figure out a story to tell.”

  “No.” Lucy shook her head. “We can’t do this together.” She fanned her loose, sleeveless top away from her stomach. “I won’t have you compromise your integrity because of me. And I don’t want your help.”

  “That’s very noble of you, but I can make my own decisions.”

  “Not this time.” She started back toward the north side of the village where the impact of high temperatures, little rainfall, and high winds had damaged the hand-plastered walls the most.

  He fell in step along side her. “Tell me why,” he insisted.

  “I can’t.”

  He grabbed her arm, bringing her to a halt. “At the very least, you owe me an explanation.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. Now let me go.” She tried to pull her arm back, but he held on.

  “You’ve never violated a protected site before and I’ve seen the care you’ve taken this week. I know you think you owe this to your dad and Matt, but you don’t. Don’t risk it.”

  She froze. Her eyes fell shut. He stared at her long, dusky eyelashes wanting to kiss them, but refrained. When her lips quivered, it was like being slammed in the chest with a bowling ball.

  “You don’t know everything about me McCall. And you’ve no idea if I’ve violated a protected site before. I’m sorry.”

  He cradled her face in his hands. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, Lucy. I know you think you need to redeem yourself, but you don’t. They wouldn’t want you to do this. If you try, we’re going to have to call the authorities.” Even if McCall looked the other way, there was Connor and Clay. Both men were devoted to their jobs and McCall would never ask them to compromise their positions.

  “I promised, McCall. It was the last thing I said to them and I can’t move on until I keep that promise.”

  McCall knew the importance of promises and looking at the pain marring Lucy’s sun-kissed complexion, he wanted to promise her anything. “I’ll help you, then.”

  She took a giant step back. “No.”

  “I want you with me, Lucy. And if the only way to make that happen is to find the sculpture, then I’m in.”

  “No!” She turned on her heels and ran away.

  Why the hell not? He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t accept his help. Why she’d want to do things illegally when he offered an alternative.

  The sun beat down on him like he stood under a heat lamp. His heart beat hard and fast. The eyes of all nearby workers fell on him. Lucy disappeared into the village and he steeled himself for a showdown before going after her.

  …

  Lucy leaned against the spot where the Tlaloc sculpture lay. Focus on this area of the village was weeks away, proving to relieve and antagonize her. The urgency to extract the sculpture increased every time Malcolm’s words came back to haunt her. Rumor has it you’ve found the Tlaloc sculpture. My employees don’t leave and work against me. I want the sculpture or I’ll ruin McCall. Or worse. I’d be only too happy to see Keats McCall gone. Do I make myself clear?

  Two things about his threat had overwhelmed her with dizziness that night at the gala. The first was his intimation that he knew McCall. Had they met before? McCall’s tone had been bitter when he’d mentioned Malcolm a couple of times, but she’d chalked it up to the general consensus in their field that Malcolm was a jackass.

  The second thing that bothered her and set off warning bells concerned Owen. If rumor had spread about her, had it started with him? Had someone been keeping tabs on Owen? His association with her and her father wasn’t a secret. Malcolm had eyes and ears everywhere.

  Her chest tightened now, squeezing hard enough to make her breath catch. She could not let McCall get involved. It would kill her if something happened to him. She’d made a choice when she married Matt to live his and her father’s life, and that had taken her somewhere she hadn’t wanted to go.

  She was making a choice now to keep her world as far away from McCall as possible. It was time to get the Tlaloc sculpture and leave.

  Footsteps sounded to her left so she took off in the opposite direction. And smacked right into the hard body she was trying to avoid.

  McCall didn’t give her a chance to right herself or to tell him to back off. His hands found her shoulders and his mouth connected with hers in a fierce kiss that instantly made her legs wobble. Against her better judgment, she leaned into him, her mind losing all control over her body. He moved his lips over hers with the kind of passion that made her want to back down. When his tongue made sweeping, swirling motions inside her mouth, a harsh groan of masculine satisfaction sounded. She answered with her own ragged sigh.

  She ran her fingers through his hair. He slid his hands to her lower back, bringing her closer. His kiss flooded her with elation she wanted to live off of forever.

  The hot intensity of their kiss slowed in tempo, but the magnitude built. McCall tasted her like she was his lifeline, his salvation. Lucy needed to pull away, but she couldn’t. She knew a different life existed and for this brief moment with McCall, she’d get to live it.

  I want you with me, he’d said.

  A week ago she hadn’t known she could feel like she was right where she belonged. McCall made her feel so much more than she ever had before. She’d loved Matt, but this pull and admiration and awe with McCall immersed her in a different kind of love—unconditional.

  This had to stop. She had to break free. If McCall were hurt because of her, she would never forgive herself.

  She pushed him in the chest, fighting the urge to grip his shirt. Her fingertips touched her swollen lips. She willed her revving pulse to slow down.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked. She must have looked as dazed as his kiss made her feel because he added, “I’m willing to risk everything for you.”

  Shielded from the desert sun, from the fresh air that carried history and hopes around everyone working on the village, and trapped in close quarters with a man she wanted to fight for, Lucy faltered for a moment. No one had ever felt that way about her before.

  “Don’t,” she managed to say. “You need to stay away from me. I need to do this on my own.”

  He ran a hand across the stubble on his jaw. “Goddammit, Lucy. Why?”

  “I just do.” She’d lost everyone she’d ever loved. Her mom, her grandmother, Matt, her dad. Icy, sharp-tipped prongs battered her heart at the thought of causing McCall harm and she’d keep her silence to protect him.

  Because she loved him.

  “And if I don’t let you?”

  If he thought he held all the power here, he was mistaken. “I don’t need or want your permission. I’ve done just fine without you.”

  He winced. “No doubt. B
ut you’re on my turf and if it’s an ultimatum you want, then fine. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours or I’ll stop you.”

  She flinched. “Fine.”

  “Fine what?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  “Just fine. I’m not explaining myself further and you can do whatever you want.” She stepped around him. “I’m tired and filthy and think I’ll head out.”

  “Lucy?” His calm, quiet voice made her turn around without hesitation. “I protect what’s mine.” He didn’t make any move to stop her from leaving and for that she was grateful.

  “I know you do.” And she wished more than anything she fell under that category, too.

  When she got back to the cabin, every muscle in her body groaned with fatigue. A splitting headache made it hurt to blink. She went into the bathroom, popped two pain relievers, and started a bath.

  She eyed their toothbrushes on the counter. His was navy, hers pink. His toothpaste was neatly rolled up halfway. Hers was kinked and twisted and had gel toothpaste around the cap.

  Even something as mundane as his oral hygiene products turned her on. She looked in the mirror. The person staring back had loved and lost and she didn’t have the strength to go through it a second time.

  Her cell phone chirped, alerting her to a voice message from a private number.

  Lucy padded to the coffee table and picked it up. The moment she heard Malcolm’s voice, her heart lurched.

  “Time’s up, Lucy,” he said. “A source tells me someone else could be after the sculpture and I don’t want to lose it. You need to move quickly or I will make good on my threat against McCall. Once you have the Tlaloc god in your possession, let me know and I’ll make arrangements for you.”

  Click.

  Tension built in the back of her neck and she put the phone down. She went to the bathroom, turned off the water, and gathered her things on the counter. She moved around the cabin picking up her clothes and piled them on the bed in her room. A knot lodged in her throat as she stuffed everything into her bags.

  Leaving without saying goodbye speared her chest with a gritty, sharp pain. But McCall threatened her resolve. He almost had her convinced they could do this together. Malcolm was ruthless and vindictive, though, with friends in powerful places, and he wouldn’t accept McCall’s participation even if McCall did let her hand over the sculpture to him.

  The crushing realization that the Tlaloc sculpture could hurt the man that she loved if she didn’t get it quickly turned her stomach into a pit of vile aches. She’d thought keeping her word and following through would set her free, but she was even more trapped than before.

  She grabbed her bags and rushed to her car. Her hands trembled when she put the key in the ignition. It shouldn’t matter that she was back to being on her own. She’d never wanted anyone getting close to her again. Her attraction to McCall was too risky.

  Once she had the sculpture, her past and present would collide and she could forget about it all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You need a drink.”

  McCall closed the back door of his truck and turned around. Clay stood behind him blocking out the sun straddling the horizon. “A stiff one,” Clay added.

  “You think?” McCall moved around him to grab the extra drop cloths and throw them into the truck bed.

  “You’ve been barking orders ever since Lucy left. And don’t think I didn’t notice her exit.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You did something to piss her off.”

  McCall leaned against the side of his truck. “I thought I told you to keep your eyes to yourself.”

  Clay laughed. “Watching is what I do best. And you, my friend, have got it bad.”

  “You’ve no idea.” Since Lucy stormed away, he could barely think straight. He missed her smile. He missed how she pushed her sunglasses up when they slid down her nose. He missed the dirt on her knees.

  “So what did you do?” Clay phrased it as a question, but most of his questions weren’t requests. Clay interrogated with a professional military nicety that McCall found damn annoying.

  “Nothing.” McCall glared at his friend. “Yet.”

  Clay stared at him with sharp, steel eyes and waited.

  “Jesus, what is it with you? You could fucking get a mime to talk.” He blew out an irritated breath. He and Clay had worked many sites together. During the day, Clay worked out safety precautions and kept an eye on personnel. At night, he stayed onsite to keep out unwanted trespassers.

  Would Lucy try to sneak past him? It was the only possibility McCall could think of.

  He’d introduced Lucy as a friend and archeologist, never mentioning her private sector work. The second she opened her warm, satiny voice and shared stories about her travels, everyone onsite admired her. Leaving out the details about the objects of historic value she’d found for Malcolm Holmes had seemed easy for her, leading him to wonder what else she found easy to omit.

  “She thinks she’s better at architectural assessment than I am, and I told her she was wrong,” McCall said, some seed of truth there.

  “Was she?” Clay’s tone indicated he didn’t think so.

  “Do you fucking read between every line?”

  McCall didn’t know right from wrong anymore. His head told him to stop Lucy from trying to get the sculpture. His heart ached to do it for her. His site. His rules. No one need be the wiser. If she’d only confide in him.

  “You’re not telling me everything.”

  “No shit. The less you know, the better.” The last thing McCall wanted was to bring any of his team members into something that might violate historical preservation policies if not handled the right way. An item found unintentionally, under preservation tactics—that would be a different story with no legal ramifications.

  Clay crossed his arms over his massive chest. “If it’s a security issue, I need to know.”

  “Shit.” McCall pressed away from the truck and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what the right thing to do here was. He’d protect Lucy at any cost, but having his security guy aware of the situation might not be a bad idea. Especially if she was keeping Malcolm’s involvement to herself. “This doesn’t go beyond us.”

  “Got it.”

  McCall paced back and forth, kicking up dust with each heavy step. “Lucy believes there’s a rare sculpture of historic value here and she plans to take it.”

  “Define take. This is a protected site. It’s against the law—”

  “I know.” McCall stopped and leveled Clay with a do-you-think-I’m-stupid look. “The thing is she needs it and I’m inclined to let her have it.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Ah, I see.” Clay unfolded his arms and put a hand on McCall’s shoulder. “She doesn’t want your help. I could have told you that thirty seconds after meeting her. Give her some space.”

  “But something isn’t right and I’m afraid if I back off I might never see her again.” He swallowed that truth down with growing anxiety. Too much time had already passed since he’d seen her. If he didn’t get to touch her soon, he’d go insane.

  Every time he looked at her or thought about her, he couldn’t imagine letting her go. She captivated him, challenged him, fulfilled him.

  “That’s your problem. You’re in love with her.”

  McCall stopped pacing and glared at Clay. Was his judgment clouded by the fact that yes, he loved Lucy? His job as president of field operations was to protect sites. If it was anyone else after the Tlaloc sculpture he wouldn’t think twice about having him or her arrested.

  “You’re not thinking with the right head,” Clay added.

  “Fuck you.”

  Clay leaned against McCall’s truck. Only a few wisps of sunlight remained, and cooler air finally circulated around them, carrying the scent of musk and wildflowers. “I’m not knocking it. Hell, this is the first time I
’ve seen you fall for someone. But you take your job pretty seriously and there could be repercussions if you’re not careful.”

  “There’s never been a find of any historic value on a protected US site, you know.” McCall rubbed the side of his face. “It could garner the company and heritage protection some nice publicity.”

  “What are Lucy’s plans for the sculpture?”

  McCall lifted his chin and studied the mountains in the distance. “I don’t know. I never asked.” He should have, he realized now. He didn’t want it to, but her plans for the Tlaloc god mattered. He wanted to believe she was donating it to a museum or foundation—something respectable. But given that she currently lived out of her car, he wondered if she was simply selling it to the highest bidder.

  Malcolm.

  That notion confirmed what he first thought of her—she was a thief. Maybe she wasn’t working for Malcolm anymore, but she was stealing it to sell to him.

  “Do me a favor,” McCall said, “keep an eye out for her, but if she shows up don’t…” He clenched his jaw, not sure what to ask of Clay. “Don’t engage until you call me.”

  “Easy enough.” He slapped McCall on the back. “Now get the hell out of here and tell her how you feel before it’s too late.”

  McCall made his way around the truck. “Since when are you doling out relationship advice?” Clay’s reputation with women reached territories McCall had yet to visit.

  Clay laughed. “Since your sorry ass met the right woman and I’d hate for you to screw it up.” A flash of uncommon pain wrinkled his forehead and the corners of his eyes.

  “You speaking from experience?”

  He shrugged and waved McCall off. “See you later.”

  “Yeah,” McCall said half-aloud as he climbed into his truck.

  Fueled by promises he wanted to voice to Lucy, McCall sped back to the campsite. Traffic kept him under the speed limit on the freeway. Nerves kept his fingers thrumming the steering wheel.

  His thoughts raced back to the Sea of Aesa and the first time he’d laid eyes on her. He’d been immediately smitten, intrigued beyond measure, bursting with desire. He’d wanted to flee the ship with her over his shoulder. Damn the consequences.