“Less undergrowth and fewer thorns, for starters.”
He rolled onto his back, and caught her hand, holding it when she tried to pull away. “Don’t you worry that lovely big brain of yours. We’ll machete this place into submission before it’s all said and done.”
She smiled at their entwined hands for a moment before meeting his gaze. “Can you use ‘machete’ as a verb?”
“I’m a writer. I can do whatever I want.” He sobered. “What are you hoping to find here, sweetheart?”
She shrugged slightly. “Something incredible.”
He grinned. “You’re in luck then. You already found it. I’m right here.”
That earned him another eye roll. “Something incredible andoldthat will make my mom’s name fill more tomes in big university libraries.”
“Well, something tells me we’re in the right place.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Maybe he was, or maybe not. He hoped they’d know for certain tomorrow, because he wasn’t looking forward to several days of digging without the rest of Angélica’s regular crew there to help.
“Did it work?” he asked.
She squeezed his hand. “Yes.”
“Good.” He blew her a kiss and then pushed her hand out through the mesh flap. “Now, give me that jar of goop and leave me be, woman. You’ve already let more mosquitoes in here.”
“Yeah, yeah, you big baby.” She slid the jar inside and zipped his tent closed, moving toward her hammock tent.
In the darkness beyond his flashlight’s range, he heard the rustling sound of clothes being removed and then the zip of her tent flap. Minutes later, after he’d coated himself thoroughly withTeodoro’s insect repellent, he killed his flashlight. He lay still in the dark, smelling a hint of peppers as his skin grew warmer. Christ, at this rate, he’d sweat right through the goop before the night was even half over.
“Quint,” Angélica called out.
Something barked over their head and shook one of the trees holding up his tent hammock. Holy freakin’ monkeys! Didn’t those loudmouths ever sleep?
“Yeah?” he whispered when the tree-shaker moved on.
“What if we don’t find anything tomor—”
“Whoa, boss lady,” he interrupted before she could finish that question. “Let’s see how good the jungle is at playing hide and seek with the past before we head down that path.”
Part Two: THE JUNGLE
“A brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle, Manling.”
~Rudyard Kipling,The Jungle Book(1894)
Chapter Three
“Ground truthing means to confirm the accuracy of data acquired via a remote collection process. Typically, this involves walking around at the actual location, taking measurements, and …”
“What was the last part you said, boss lady?” Quint asked.
Angélica looked his way. He stood near the base of a crumbling platform-like structure they’d stumbled upon a short time ago. A large, lichen-coated stone acted as a table for his notebook. The back of his shirt was soaked in sweat, same as hers, but he hadn’t made one sound of complaint all morning as they slashed and pushed deeper into the jungle.
Instead, he’d been all charm and jokes, winning laughs from Raul and her father. Hell, he’d even squeezed a chuckle out of Bronko, whose brow seemed to be stuck permanently in storm-cloud mode since she’d met the ex-hired killer.
Guilt panged in her chest. She was supposed to be on vacation with Quint. Alone together for once. And he was supposed to be charming her, and only her, day and night. Especially at night, with his mouth and hands and …
She sighed. Sleeping in the tented hammock next to his last night had made her question her sanity. Why in the hell would she choose looking for ancient relics in a hot, buggy jungle over spending time with a guy who could make her laugh her ass off one moment and then kiss her clear to the moon the next?
