Risky Surrender Page 7

  Pete darted a glance at McCall. “I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes before we get started.”

  Lucy tore off her helmet. Her eyes clouded with fury. But the helmet shook in her hand like she was more nervous than angry.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Besides the fact that you’ve kidnapped me?”

  “I believe the term is ‘whisked away’ since I had your consent.” McCall had no intention of letting Lucy slip away from him a second night.

  “For a climb, not a sleepover.”

  “Did you have somewhere else to be tonight?” Damn she looked hot when he asked a question that pissed her off.

  The pulse in her neck throbbed to life. Her eyelids drifted shut, like she needed a second to regroup. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She shook her head.

  “So what’s the problem?” McCall sensed an unease around her that had nothing to do with his Aztec village. It gripped the muscles in his upper back and squeezed.

  She looked away.

  “Lucy?” He put his hands on her shoulders. A slight tremor thrummed under his fingertips. Hell. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m not fond of heights.”

  He turned her chin so he could look into her eyes. Was this her way out? “Since when?”

  “Since always.”

  “You’re telling me in your line of fieldwork, you’ve avoided heights?”

  “I tolerated certain situations because I had to.” She shrugged out of his reach. “And because they didn’t last long. You’re asking me to sleep in a tree. For hours.”

  Damn. It killed him to think Lucy pained, but he didn’t want her out of his sight.

  “With me.” Two words that held far more weight behind them than he cared to acknowledge.

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll be sleeping in a tree with me. The hammock can hold both of us, no problem. I won’t let anything happen to you up there.”

  Her stubborn expression softened. His Tarzan mentality soared. Something simmered between them and adventure fueled it. He could see it in the depths of her eyes.

  “Look, I know something is troubling you. If you go up there, I promise you’ll experience the sweet bliss of nothing. Your mind won’t be able to do anything but take in the sounds, smells, and views of the forest.”

  “What if my hammock mate is the trouble?”

  He smiled. “Then you can punish him. Tomorrow.”

  She tilted her head up slowly. McCall followed her contemplation and took in the tangles of branches and greenery that allowed only shards of sunlight to reach the forest floor. He reached out and took Lucy’s hand.

  “I never back down from a challenge,” she said, keeping her hand tucked inside his.

  “Neither do I.”

  “You two have things worked out?” Pete’s voice brought their gazes back to ground level.

  Lucy put her helmet back on. “How many times have you done this, Pete?”

  “Every weekend for the past six years.” He saluted another guide walking past with two climbers.

  “I’d say I’m good to go then.”

  McCall followed Lucy and Pete to the base of a two hundred and fifty foot fir tree. McCall had climbed it a couple of years ago. This time, though, a thrill rushed through him that had everything to do with the beautiful woman standing beside him.

  Not once in all his outdoor escapades had he needed company. Sure, he’d joined groups, depending on the activity. Followed a guide when mandated. But he took the greatest delight in doing things alone because his job left little time to himself. Glancing at Lucy, all those other adventures paled. He wanted to experience this through her eyes.

  She made everything better.

  Pete clipped Lucy into the rope attached to the crown of the tree and tugged on all the connections to verify safety. He did the same with McCall and then himself. “Lucy, you’ll set our pace. If you need to rest on a limb, we can do that. There’s no rush.”

  A precocious smile spread across her sinful lips. “You boys better catch your breath now.”

  Catching Lucy would be his pleasure.

  …

  Lucy felt McCall’s eyes on her. The awareness made it difficult to climb without squirming. She liked the attention. But the insatiable look she saw glittering in the depths of his clear blue eyes had her wanting to climb him.

  “You okay?” he called out, a smirk on his face, as if he sensed the impact his gaze had on her.

  “You asking because you need a break?”

  He chuckled. “I’m asking because you’ve stopped moving.”

  “Oh.” She put her gloved hands back in motion and pulled herself up. “Dammit,” slipped out in a whisper. She had to stop thinking about McCall and how being with him discombobulated her.

  A branch scratched behind her knee. A fern tickled the side of her neck. She peeked down, surprised by how high they’d already climbed. The view stole her breath—and made her a little nauseous. The air cooled the deeper they moved into the canopy, and goose bumps sprang up on her arms. Birds chattered. A robust musk scent filled her nose. Tiny bright red berries thrived among the greenery like confetti.

  A smile bloomed across her face and stayed.

  “We’re here,” Pete said a little while later, lifting his arm to check his watch. “And in record time.”

  “What now?” Lucy asked.

  “Now we enjoy the scenery for awhile before we descend.”

  She took in McCall’s muscled calves, broad shoulders, and locks of brown hair that spilled out of his helmet. The scenery was damn perfect from where she sat suspended in midair.

  Once they’d scaled down and their feet were back on the ground, they ate an early dinner with others daring enough to spend the night as a tree dweller. The second climb went slower. Lucy’s nerves twitched. She tried not to think about being stuck so damn high off the ground for ten long hours. But the setting sun, quieting of the birds, and unfamiliar surroundings sent her heart skittering into panic mode.

  By the time they reached the hammock, Lucy wanted to strangle McCall for talking her into this. Not that he’d had to do much talking. His promise of peace and safety—the two things her troubled mind had difficulty feeling—were all it took to convince her.

  He crawled onto their canvas sleeping surface first, moving with confidence and skill, his muscles pulling his shirt tight across his back. He clipped his harness to the hammock, allowing for plenty of room to move around. Then he placed a backpack and blanket off to the side and put his hands on his thighs.

  “Ready,” he said.

  One word. That was all it took to weave sensations of need through her body and put out the fire of doubt flickering in the back of her mind. Caught in the warm masculine tone of his voice, Lucy moved forward.

  Pete helped with her transfer before saying goodnight and leaving them alone.

  McCall got comfortable on his back, put his hands behind his head, and lifted his eyebrows.

  Lucy sat still on her knees and tried to gain her balance. “How would you feel if I tossed up dinner?”

  “Come here,” he said, ignoring her discomfort and patting the spot beside him.

  God, everything out of his mouth lit her up like the Fourth of July. What had she been thinking when she agreed to this? Worse than the height, a night wrapped in the warmth and safety of McCall’s arms would make her wish for everything to be different.

  “I don’t bite, Lucy.”

  She wanted him to. She wanted him to bite and suck and nibble and have his wicked way with her. She had a feeling he did things to a girl that made her body so turned on it took hours to turn off.

  “Do I need to come get you?”

  Shaking her head, she crawled to him. The hammock didn’t rock, its sturdiness calming her sensitive nerves. She’d slept in far more dangerous conditions before and pushed her fear aside.

  He tucked her into his side like she meant something special. She almost cou
ldn’t breathe.

  Her head on his shoulder, she curled closer, her leg moved over his, and she put her arm across his chest. A contented sigh sounded.

  From both of them.

  “I know,” McCall said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

  “Know what?”

  “Know what you’re hoping to find in my village.”

  Lucy didn’t move a muscle. But her blood ran cold, pumping lethargically through her system. “I told you—”

  “I had an associate look into the possibility that something of historical value was on site. The call I got at dinner was confirmation.” He took a slow, deep breath, as if giving Lucy a chance to refute his claim. “He said there’s a few archeologists who believe in the existence of a gold Tlaloc sculpture. Is that what you’re looking for?”

  Stunned that he’d so easily figured things out, she rolled away. It pissed her off that it hadn’t occurred to her he’d do some digging. It frightened her that his tone wasn’t accusatory, but hopeful. He wanted her to tell him the truth. To let him in.

  His hand touched her shoulder. “Level with me and we can figure this out together.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out. I know the Tlaloc sculpture is in the village and I’m going to take it.” She stared into blackness, the silhouette of branches and leaves barely visible under a night sky scattered with clouds.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I’m not asking for your permission.” After her surveillance last night with Owen’s camera, she knew exactly where the sculpture was. It lay deeper in the walls than she’d hoped, but that wouldn’t stop her.

  “I thought you didn’t work for Malcolm Holmes any more.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you here?” The hammock dipped.

  Lucy twisted back around. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She found McCall on his side looking down at her with his head propped in his hand.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  She covered her face with her hands, hoping to hide the panic he’d surely read.

  He gently moved her hands aside. When his focus was on her, right on her with concentration that outdistanced anyone else’s, she thought maybe it wasn’t his village that motivated him. Maybe he cared about her as much as he did his job.

  “I made a promise to get the sculpture, and I always keep my promises.” Her dad had sought the Tlaloc god for as long as she could remember. He’d believed the charitable god who gave life and sustenance would protect them. Keep them well nourished and finally change the course of their fortune. When Lucy’s mom had died, her father had lost more than a wife, he’d lost his faith.

  Hard times didn’t help. Declan Davenport lived by the seat of his pants as a sometime archeologist, sometime treasure hunter, and he never gave up his search. He’d told Lucy if they found the sculpture, they’d be set for life. Not just financially, but spiritually, too.

  “Who did you promise?” McCall twisted a strand of her hair around his finger.

  Lucy blinked away her recollection and pulled in a lungful of air. “My dad and… my husband. Matt.”

  McCall froze. “You’re married?”

  “I was. They both died a little over two years ago.” Her heart ached saying it out loud.

  “I’m sorry.” He eased her clenched hands apart and held one warmly in his. Soft, but a little bit rough too, his touch quelled the turmoil in the pit of her stomach.

  She looked away, needing a break from his intensity. “Thank you. We were in Guatemala on a job for Malcolm and there was an accident.” She sucked in another breath and then the words tumbled out. She told McCall everything and how not a day went by that she didn’t blame herself. “You have no idea what this kind of loss feels like, and I have to get the sculpture.”

  McCall rolled to his back. “I know exactly what if feels like, Lucy.”

  The canopy swayed with a breeze, revealing and obscuring the stars in the sky. The smell of earth and bark and clean air filled her nose. Birds went to sleep. Night insects woke up. There was a timeless sense to their spot in the treetops and Lucy wanted to know everything that McCall kept tucked inside him.

  She turned and pressed up onto her elbow. “Tell me.” She’d never imagined someone else understanding the feelings that chipped away at her soul.

  “Four years ago I was in charge of a chapel’s conservation in Brazil. The monument was built against a mountain. We’d been warned of landslides, so I had engineers come in and we determined the area safe. But our work changed the stability of the slope and I lost eight men in a slide. My decisions took the lives of fathers, husbands, sons.” He swallowed. “I know what it’s like to feel responsible.”

  Lucy settled back against his side and wrapped her arm around him. “I’m sorry.”

  He told her more and then he was quiet while they stayed like that, their bodies touching one another for comfort, until McCall twisted so they were face-to-face. “I have an idea.” His hand found the curve of her waist before moving to her ass and bringing their hips closer.

  Heat burned a path across her cheeks. “You do?”

  His fingers ran through her hair and settled on the back of her head. She shivered with desire so great her body tingled with sensations no other time or place matched. Her body’s surrender confirmed what her mind had been telling her. She wanted McCall.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Nice of you to warn me.” She looked at his mouth. Since the first time she saw him she’d thought about it touching hers.

  “I’m all about fair play.” His eyes darkened and Lucy wasn’t fool enough to believe he meant that about his site, too.

  But whatever this game was between them, Lucy did want to play. She wanted to feel again. Matt’s signature had long since vanished from anywhere on her body. She couldn’t remember his taste, struggled to hold on to his scent.

  McCall’s nose touched hers and he let his warm breath tickle the corners of her mouth. He teased her mercilessly by hovering just out of reach. Anticipation welled up inside her so much that she thought she’d burst if he didn’t kiss her in the next second.

  “McCall,” she moaned, pressing against him, seeking more.

  “Is that a yes?” There was a low growl in his tone, attitude in the smile that played at his impossibly frustrating lips.

  “Yes, McCall.” She gave him the words he’d told her she’d say one day.

  Finally, his lips moved against hers in a gentle glide that liquefied her insides before her eyes drifted shut. His careful caress made her humble and hot at the same time. McCall wasn’t in a hurry, and his slow seduction of her mouth was better than anything she’d imagined. She wiggled closer, wrapped her arm around his neck. He had to feel the pounding of her heart against his chest.

  He slid his tongue between the seams of her lips and groaned when she opened for him. Their tempo accelerated. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and explored everywhere. His fingers massaged the back of her head while his leg hooked around hers and brought her tighter against him.

  She sank into him, sensations spiraling out of her control.

  His stubble rasped against her skin in the most exquisite way. Not rough, not smooth, but with the kind of friction that begged to be continued.

  But what really got her? He kissed her like nothing else mattered. And that notion made everything around her disappear. For the first time in her life she lost all track of time and place and purpose. She existed only for this man and this moment.

  “God, Lucy. You taste better than I imagined.”

  “You, too,” she murmured.

  He plunged his tongue inside her mouth again, but with skill and tenderness and earth shattering care, like he couldn’t get enough but wanted to give her everything he had. She wanted to kiss him for hours.

  His hand moved around her shoulder to the outside swell of her breast. She tried to twist to give him better access, but his harness got
in her way.

  “Ow,” she said, pulling back. “Something on your harness pinched me.”

  McCall’s dazed eyes looked at her with concern. “I forgot I was wearing one.”

  That made her smile. He’d been affected by their kiss as much as she was. “Good to know.”

  “Doubting your abilities?”

  “No. It’s just been—”

  He cut her off by reclaiming her mouth with hungry urgency, his body above hers, his devastating caresses so intense she didn’t care if their harnesses left permanent imprints. She pulled him closer.

  Nibbling and teasing, McCall’s full lips played with hers, his tongue danced with hers. Insane bursts of pleasure wove a web of desire that made her desperate to feel him everywhere. She imagined writhing beneath him, arching in wild response, answering his thrusts until she climaxed like never before. She wanted—needed—a McCall induced orgasm.

  And if he kept kissing her like she was the sexiest thing in the world, she might have one in the next half a minute.

  Lucky for her, he saved her from embarrassment when he gently eased off with a ragged sigh. “If we weren’t two hundred and fifty feet off the ground I’d keep going.” He traced his finger down her neck and chest to the tiny buttons of her long-sleeved cotton shirt. “Although, maybe if I undo a couple of these I can taste at least two other parts of you tonight.”

  How she found the strength to grab his wrist she had no idea. “No. Not like this, Keats.”

  His breath caught, and the look in his eyes wasn’t one she recognized. Like she’d said something far more substantial than his first name. She’d spoken it to let him know this wasn’t something casual for her. As much as she wanted to make this only about physical release, she couldn’t.

  He dropped delicate kisses to her forehead, the corner of her eye, the spot just beneath her ear lobe. “Say that again,” he whispered.

  His warm breath tickled her neck in the most delicious way.

  “Keats.” She didn’t recognize the soft, sultry tone of her voice. She moved a hand to his chest then lower to feel how hard he was for her. “Keats,” she said again, this time more breathy.

  He pressed into her hand. “God, Lucy. Tell me why not like this.”