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  He and the two Sherwoods were the three most in danger, Rick Sherwood less so than his sister. When they got to the site, assuming it existed, Kates would act. If they didn’t find anything, then there wouldn’t be any danger.

  It was a crapshoot no matter how he looked at it.

  But what the hell; he liked crapshoots. He hadn’t chosen this life because of the safe nine-to-five routine. He didn’t have anything else to do except keep Thèresa’s sheets warmed. Instead, he’d work on warming Jillian Sherwood. Now that looked like a challenge.

  4

  Jillian went back to her hotel room early that night, leaving both Rick and Kates still drinking in the hotel lounge. Tension was wearing on her nerves; she didn’t trust Kates or that man they had hired to guide them, but Kates was financing the trip, so she had to go along with him. The temptation to call it off was getting stronger by the minute, but deep down she really wanted to continue, since she had come this far. If they could just get started, then it would be too late to call the trip off and she could forget about that and focus on the job at hand—finding the Stone City.

  Just being by herself was a relief; as she unlocked the door to her room she could feel her face relax now that she didn’t have to keep every reaction to herself, guarding every word and expression. Maybe she was in over her head, but she had to remember that she had no other course of action.

  She switched on the light and turned to bolt and chain the door.

  “Don’t bother with that,” a deep voice said. “Unless you want me to stay the night.”

  She jumped and whirled, automatically drawing back to belt the intruder with her purse even as recognition flared. Ben Lewis! Odd that she knew his voice after meeting him only that once, but she did, instantaneously. He was rising from the chair across the room and coming toward her, his darkly tanned face creasing in a smile.

  “Whoa, sweetcakes. You could do some serious damage with that thing.”

  That deep voice was warm and teasing. Jillian looked up into his lazy blue eyes, and fury roared through her, clean and hot; without thought or hesitation she swung the purse like a major leaguer at the plate, hitting him square on the side of the head with it. He staggered sideways into the wall, his face registering complete surprise.

  “That’s for scaring me,” she snapped and drew back for another go at him. “What are you doing in here anyway?” Whap! “You broke into my room!” Whap!

  He threw one arm up to protect his head, and the second blow hit him in the ribs. He yelped as he caught his balance and turned toward her, but not in time to prevent taking the third blow full in the chest, making him grunt. Quick as a snake he darted his hand out, seized the strap, and jerked the purse out of her grip, pulling her forward at the same time. He caught her full against his body, the purse in his right hand, his left arm wrapped around her waist like a steel band. “Good God,” he said incredulously. “You’ve got a black belt in purse attack, that’s for damn sure. And here I’ve been worried about taking care of you, when it looks like I’m the one who needs protecting.”

  Jillian didn’t find his remarks amusing. She put both hands against his chest and shoved, hard. He didn’t budge. The wall of muscles beneath her hands was rock hard. “Let go of me,” she growled.

  Instead of doing as she said, he actually chuckled, his warm breath stirring the hair at her temple. “Now, now,” he chided.

  “Don’t ’now, now’ me!”

  “What do you want me to do to you?”

  Jillian took a deep breath and grimly regained control of her temper. She seldom lost it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. She said very clearly, “If you don’t turn me loose right now, I’m going to bite you, hard.”

  The arm around her waist loosened and he grinned down at her, totally unabashed. “Mind you, if we were both naked I probably wouldn’t mind if you bit me, but under these circumstances I’ll pass.”

  She stepped back and straightened her clothing, then ran a hand over her hair, searching for unruly strands. To her surprise, everything felt as neat as when she had walked in the door.

  “You look just fine,” he said, still grinning. “All prim and buttoned up. You sure had me fooled!” He began laughing.

  She turned and wrenched the door open. “Get out.”

  He reached past her and flattened his hand on the door, closing it with a thud. “Not yet, sweetcakes. We need to talk.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  His eyes sparkled at her acid tone, and he leaned closer to her. His breath was warm and smelled, not unpleasantly, of fresh whiskey. “Come away from the door,” he murmured. “Kates or your brother might come up, and I don’t want either of them to hear what we’re saying. Are their rooms next door to yours?”

  Jillian silently studied him, noting for the first time the shrewdness in those blue eyes. Despite the whiskey on his breath, he was sober and in perfect control of himself. Not only that, his comment had made it plain that he didn’t trust the other two men, which was very perceptive of him. Instantly she saw that she had underestimated him, but that didn’t mean she trusted him now.

  Still, she answered his question. “No. Rick is two doors down; Steven is across the hall.”

  “Good. But just to be on the safe side, let’s turn on the television and get away from the door.”

  He suited actions to words, moving to the television and turning it on. Rapid Portuguese filled the room. Then he settled comfortably into the room’s one chair, lifting his booted feet to the bed and crossing them.

  She shoved them off. “Keep your feet off my bed.”

  She had the impression that he wanted to laugh again, but instead he said, “Yes, ma’am,” in a suspiciously meek tone.

  She sat down on the bed. “All right, what did you want to talk about?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, and she read the lazy interest in his eyes as he looked at her and at the bed. He made no effort to hide it, as if he didn’t care that she knew what he was thinking. Jillian took her own satisfaction by refusing to give him any sort of reaction.

  His mouth twitched a bit in amusement as he hooked his hands behind his head. She couldn’t help noticing what a well-shaped mouth it was, wide and clearly outlined, with blatant sensuality in the curve of his upper lip. He was a raffish-looking scoundrel, with his hair tousled and his jaw already showing the need for a razor. His clothes looked as if they had never seen an iron, and maybe they hadn’t. His lightweight khaki pants were stuffed into scarred brown boots, while his sweat-stained white shirt hung loose outside his pants. An even worse-stained khaki hat lay on the small table.

  But she remembered that cool assessment in his eyes, and knew how alert he was behind the image he projected. This man knew exactly what he was doing.

  That didn’t mean she was going to trust him, or start this talk. He wasn’t going to sucker her into telling him everything she knew without revealing anything himself.

  The silence stretched between them for a few minutes, but it didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable. If anything, the amusement deepened in his eyes.

  “Not a blabbermouth, are you, sweetcakes?” he finally drawled.

  “Should I be?”

  “Well, it might simplify things, that’s for certain. Let’s start showing our cards.”

  “You first,” she said politely.

  Again the flash of that quick grin, but it quickly faded as a rather grim expression crowded the amusement out of his eyes. “Steven Kates is a crook,” he said bluntly. “I saw him a couple of times back in the States a long time ago. He doesn’t know me, but I make it a point to keep tabs on people. He’s pure slime, and he sure isn’t interested in going on any archaeological expedition to photograph burial grounds. As soon as he and your brother offered me the job, I figured they planned on doing some looting, assuming that this site is really there and we can find it.”

  “It’s there.”

  “So you say. What you have