“No one helped, but you.” I buckled up and pulled my sunglasses on my face.
In my ribcage, someone released butterflies that were high on cocaine. I was in big trouble.
* * *
Surrounded by green hills and set at the edge of a lush jungle, the “Erizo at Las Loma” retreat was nothing like the ranch in the pirate’s drawing. Only the front of the main building resembled what Augustine had captured. Manicured trees dotted the property grounds, water splashed in a large fountain before the manor entrance, and expansive grassed lawns stretched on each side of the gravel driveway. A perfect place to disconnect from the fast-paced world and relax in paradise on earth. Based on the resort’s outside appearance, my guess was that the inside would be mind-blowing, like something out of a luxurious travel magazine.
And I was right.
A stunning terracotta floor and high, wood-beamed cathedral ceiling opened before us, and cool air with a hint of orange and jasmine enveloped us. William’s and my jaws unhinged when we walked in.
The hostess presented us with cucumber water—yuck—and an old-fashioned heavy metal key with a blue ribbon. A super cute touch, but how could a modern woman fit it in her tiny cell phone purse?
Our rooms were on the first floor, down the corridor, past an indoor fountain in the large living area, a seating room, and finally down another corridor. It was a workout to reach our room. I surveyed the décor for signs of birds but there were none in the paintings or sculptures.
“Since you might be staying longer on this trip,” Andrew said to me as we walked side by side, my high heels making a clickety-clack noise. “You need to buy different shoes. No heels.”
“I like wearing these. The average male height is five-eleven, so I can look any man straight in the eye if not down when I wear them. You’re a gigantic exception to the rule.”
“This is me.” William stopped at the door and slid his key into the lock. “I want to take a long shower and then let’s meet in the restaurant to grab something to eat before we go on a bird hunt. Say an hour?”
We nodded and continued down the corridor.
“Why is that important?” Andrew and I neared my room.
I faced him and craned my neck to capture his gaze. “Level eye contact is intimidating, causing the opponent to feel studied and uncomfortable. Let him be fooled we have the same height, or I might even be taller, and somewhere in the back of his mind he already fears me.”
Andrew’s lips curved up, a move I discovered made my pulse thump out of rhythm. “I think your long legs with that seahorse-shaped birthmark just above your knee that matches the one on your wrist is enough to intimidate any man.”
For a split second, our worlds collided. A bouquet of hummingbirds replaced the earlier butterflies, and they all congregated in my chest. My fingers relaxed, and the heavy key fell out of my hand. Andrew was quick to pick it up. I had a strong wish for him to run his hand over my legs as he slowly rose to his full height. He extended his hand, holding the key.
His eyes, full of mirth, lingered on mine before dropping to my mouth, the mirth replaced by yearning. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
So what if this man was tall, and handsome, and smart, and has a huge heart, and probably other huge body parts? I needed to get a grip on myself.
“What are you thinking about?” Andrew’s voice was husky and low, and he regarded me as if I was a complicated Bauhaus statue.
I smiled and arched an eyebrow. “My secret plan to steal Pérez’s treasure.”
Andrew gave a sardonic snort. “Sure, that’s what you were thinking.” He grabbed his bag off the floor. “See you soon.” He turned and strode to the neighboring door, and before he entered his room, he gave me another stunning smile.
My room was rustic but glam, with sumptuous furnishings enclosed in pale green stucco walls, and an abundance of light that came through two large windows offering panoramic views of a mountainous landscape. But the best feature of this space was the ornate, tiled flooring and the high ceiling with exposed wooden beams.
I kicked off my shoes and raced barefoot to check out the bathroom. And oh my god. As soon as my gaze landed on the lion-clawed tub next to another massive window, I had a craving to fill it up with warm water, dump in the entire complimentary bottle of rose oils, and sink into magnificence. Of course, there was no time for that right now. I needed more than an hour to indulge in such luxury. But later tonight, I had a date with that tub and a bottle of the best champagne the hotel could offer.
And oh, hello! It had a mobile showerhead. Fingers crossed pressure was strong. After what Andrew did today to my insides, without a doubt I would use it.
But for now, I turned on the shower, returned to my room, stripped naked, and laid my dress on the gigantic bed. I dug out my underwear from my suitcase and took them to wash. Ireallyneeded to buy more clothing.
As soon as the warm water hit my head, I released a sigh of relief. God, it felt so good to wash off road dust and exhaustion muck. The resort’s shampoo smelled of almond and honey, and the sugar scrub left my skin feeling like silk. My hand glided over my body, and when it reached my breast, I pictured Andrew’s large hands cupping me instead.
Should I try out that handheld showerhead now?No. No time.
I washed my panties, hung them over the tub’s long faucet, then wrapped myself in one of the complementary soft robes. I towel-dried my hair, then pulled it into a messy bun on the top of my head. Over the years William had imparted all kinds of horrors about how bad make-up was for the skin, so I tried to follow his advice. My usual daytime make-up was minimal—no foundation, no powder, always sunblock, a touch of concealer, mascara, blush, and occasionally eyeliner. Something nudged me to add more color to my eyes to make them stand out more so I applied silver-copper eyeliner that complimented my green eyes. Did Andrew like women with lots of make-up or did he prefer more natural? I shouldn’t care, but just in case, I tapped berry lipstick lightly on my lips.
I tossed the lipstick tube into my make-up bag but missed it. It clacked on the floor and rolled under the sink, stopping on a tile with a design of entangled flowering branches with two small blue birds, facing west and east. I leaned in to examine it. I’d seen a similar design in the Museo de Historia, and Andrew had it somewhere in his journal too. Only, this time the birds were facing each other. Someone knocked on my door, and I straightened, hitting my head on the vanity top.
“Shit, that hurts.” I grabbed the top of my head. The impatient asshole knocked on the door again. It was probably William needing something from my bag. “Just a second,” I yelled.
