Page 11

Chapter Ten

T he sexual hum hadn’t ceased as I scrubbed my face and teeth, and changed into pajama shorts and an old university t-shirt. The fabric was so worn that in a certain light, it was almost translucent in some spots. I climbed into the bed beside William, who snored as loud as an aggravating next-door garage band on a balmy fall night. Tomorrow he’d regret passing out without taking care of his face. I groaned and turned the nightstand lamp on.

After a few minutes of wrestling with his limbs, I removed his shoes, shorts, and shirt, and returned to the bathroom to rummage in his beauty bag. I plucked cotton pads, a balancing cleanser, and a conditioning night lotion. William had a ten-step cleansing routine, but this would do.

Smoothing William’s hair off his forehead, I gently ran the wetted pad over his skin. His sandy brown hair took on a warm brown shade in the dim light. His snoring stopped, and his lips twitched at their corners. He was such a beautiful human inside and out, and it hurt to know he was as lonely as me. After Rai left, for two years my heart-of-the-party happy-go-lucky optimistic brother turned into someone unrecognizable, a workaholic who would gag at the word love. He even stopped watching rom-coms. When William came out of his depression, he started having a new special someone almost monthly, and I wondered if he was desperately trying to find The One or merely the one to replace the ghost of Rai. I kissed his forehead and said a silent prayer that soon he would meet someone who would do both for him.

I dropped the used cotton pad on my lap and added lotion to my fingers. I reached out to his face and gently rubbed it on, the bracelet catching the lamp’s light.

My hand paused, and I stared at the etched lines on the bracelet that were no longer just lines. The bases the stones were pressed into took the shape of the foot of a mountain, and the swirls around it looked like rivers branching out. A few years ago, I went to an Atlanta Art Museum exhibition on light sculptures that form beautiful images when viewed at a certain angle. I rotated my wrist slightly to the right, and the landscape vanished, becoming again just gems and carved swirls. I turned my arm where it was a few seconds ago, and the hills and river returned.

“Oh my god.” I stood up, and the bottles fell on the floor with a racket. William stirred, and his eyelids fluttered but never fully opened. He mumbled something and turned to his side.

I had to tell Andrew. I checked the time. A quarter to eleven. It was late, but Andrew had said he’d stay up working. Wait. Was I doing this to help Andrew beat Richard, or was I taking any excuse to see him again?

I’d debate it later.

Barefooted, I stepped out of my room into the quiet hallway. Before I could lose my nerve, I crossed the hall in one step but didn’t knock. My heart began its odd beating again. Perhaps waiting for the morning would be a better idea. What could he do with my new-found information in the middle of the night?

As I contemplated what to do, the door opened wide, and Andrew’s broad figure filled the frame. A well-after-five-o’clock stubble highlighted his sharp angles. He wore gray cotton pants and a cream shirt. The top four buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing some chest hair. My mouth went dry.

“Everything okay?” He leaned out, turning his head left and right.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I noticed a shadow lurking under the door.” His eyes perused from my face down to my breasts, lingering there a beat longer before meeting mine once again. Uh, yeah, no bra.

“I wasn’t lurking. I was standing and thinking.”

Andrew dropped his hand off the door. “Do you want to think in my room?”

With my heart boomeranging in my chest, I maneuvered around him. His bed was made, the overhead light was on, and the breeze from the open balcony door played with a sheer curtain. The lamp on a writing desk cast a bright light on his journal, the book, and the letters we’d found today.

Andrew closed the door and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms. “Are you here to help with the Arnold Cipher? William was right, by the way.”

“You were able to decipher the code?” I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I crossed my arms too.

“Yes. I used Jorge’s book.”

“And?”

“They planned to move the cargo to the palace when it was completed. I had no idea Augustine was building something like this.”

“By any chance, did they mention the location?”

“No. This is something we’ll have to figure out. And in the last letter, Augustine planned to visit his old ranch in March to see love birds. That’s all I got so far.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Love birds?”

He pressed his lips together and shrugged.

“Could they be talking about the palace in the sketch?”

“I’d assume.”

“So earlier, when you said Jorge returned from a cathedral-size construction, maybe that’s what they were building. And the complicated mechanism with pulleys and wheels could be a security system to store the treasure at the palace.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Exactly my thought.”

I stayed calm but wanted to squeal, giddy with excitement. We’d made progress. The puzzle pieces we started with were connecting. I was sure some elements were still missing, but I had no doubt we would find them with time.

“So why were you in the hallway?” Andrew uncrossed his arms and slid his hands into his pants pockets. I’d gotten so wrapped up in his news I forgot why I was here in the first place.

“I also have something to share. If you hold the bracelet at a certain angle, it becomes a geographic layout.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. “A map?”

“Yes. I’ll show you.” I approached him, raised my wrist, and slowly moved it. “Do you see it?”

“No.” He pushed off the door and narrowed his focus on the gold band. “We might have too much light.” Andrew’s hand found the switch on the wall and flipped it off, dowsing us into semi-darkness.

“Now?” I asked, peering at his face, which was somehow even more gorgeous in the dimness.

Andrew chuckled. “It’s too dark now. Let’s try it with the table lamp.”

We moved to the desk, and I had no doubt my t-shirt was turning transparent in this light. Andrew took my hand into his, the warmth of his touch fused with my skin. His gaze drifted to my breasts, and the heat spread all over my body. How much could he see? Did I want him to look? At that thought, my traitorous nipples turned painfully hard, making this situation even more awkward. Andrew cleared his throat and dragged his eyes to the bracelet.

I watched him, holding my breath, waiting for his face to flash with exultant recognition as he steadily rotated my hand. I could practically see the wheels turning inside Andrew’s head, just like when we were under the church. Lines on his face changed, his mouth twitching a bit, and his jaw muscle shifting ever so slightly as he bit the inside of his cheek. He was a handsome man, but when he was concentrating, he was fucking gorgeous.

“You’re staring at me again,” Andrew said, attention on my wrist.

Of course, I was. He was hard not to ogle.

My face turned warm. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, like you did when we were in Iglesia San Antonio.”

What the hell? Did this man have eyes in the back of his head?

“I wasn’t. I was waiting for you to share more of your thoughts.”

“And you were staring.” A cocky grin grew on his face, but then it fell, his beautiful eyes widening. “Christ.”

Excitement rippled through me. “Do you see mountains and rivers?”

“Yes. There’s more than just those. This is stunning. And it’s been with us all this time.”

Without releasing me, Andrew bent to check something in this journal, turned the page, and ran his finger down the sheet.

“What else is there?” I asked.

“Come, sit with me.” He picked up his notebook and his phone and sat on the bed.

I dropped next to him, hands on my lap, my hip pressing into his. I didn’t have to sit this close, but I wasn’t about to move.

Flipping a few pages, Andrew paused on one with sketched crests and hallmarks. Then he took his phone and found the photo of the ranch with horses that I’d airdropped him earlier in the bar. He zoomed in, then pivoted his phone to me. “What do you see?”

“Um…” I said and leaned a bit, my arm flattened against his—I might have done that on purpose—and looked at a blurry image of two horses and a rising sun. “The crest on this photo is the same as the one on your page.”

Andrew brought my hand close to his face and slowly turned it. “It’s also here.” He pointed at a small spot carved into the gold with a pencil. “See it?”

Pulling my hand out of his hold, I leveled the bracelet with my eyes and concentrated, turning it slowly. The same crest appeared in the curve near the smaller stone in a river bend. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.

An unexpected thrill ignited my heart.

“I see it,” I whispered and faced Andrew.

His hands remained at his sides, but his gaze skimmed over my face before stopping on my parted lips.

“You found a map,” he murmured with a coy smile, his eyes turning up. He held my gaze, unblinking, and a wave of desire coursed inside me, muddling my senses. I ached for him to kiss me. One kiss. To celebrate this discovery. It would be fine. I would be fine. I was in no danger of falling for Andrew. There wouldn’t be enough time. We had a map now, and in a few days, the bracelet would be off. Our paths were going in different directions and would never cross again.

“Map to where?” I could barely form the words. My breathing was shallow, and my heart was in my throat.

The air was hot and thick as his eyes were intent on me. God, why wouldn’t he lean in and kiss me already?

The phone on his lap rang. The display showed that Dr. Garcia was calling.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I need to answer.”

“Of course.”

I hate that phone.

Andrew brought the phone to his ear. “Carlos.” He looked down at the floor. “I got your email but might no longer need the scans. Adriana uncovered a map on the bracelet.” He could have taken full credit for the discovery, yet he didn’t. He paused, listening. “I’m not sure yet. It has Las Loma on it. Yes. Just like we discussed.” He nodded, raking a hand through his hair. “Yes, I can do it. You should have it by the morning.”

He hung up, and the quiet groan that escaped him was genuine frustration. He turned to me with a sad smile, the fire in his eyes gone. And maybe it was for the best.

“I know it’s late, but do you mind staying for a bit longer?” Andrew said, his voice jaded with disappointment. “I need to copy these details and send them to Carlos.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“It might take me a while…” Andrew scanned the room, then dragged a chair to the bed and set the lamp on it. “If you can lay and place your hand under the lamp…?”

“Is Las Loma ranch one of the sketches?”

“Yes. It’s Augustine’s childhood house.” Andrew grabbed his notebook and a pencil, then he dropped to the floor next to the bed, crisscrossing his legs. “While Augustine lived near the ocean, his sons, Simón and Gabriel, resided on the old ranch with their families. Usually, the sons came to visit their father’s house, but based on the messages that we found tonight, Augustine went there not long before he died. There’s a letter from Simón to Jorge in which he mentioned their father arriving in March with carts carrying large chests.”

“Do you know where the ranch is?”

I followed his directions and lay on my back, stretching out my arm. The lamp’s heat warmed my skin but wasn’t nearly as hot as Andrew’s gaze on me a minute ago.

“Yes. A decade ago, a resort chain bought the ranch and converted it into ‘Erizo,’ a luxurious B maybe they didn’t. We were honor students and never bothered anybody. William and I were both valedictorians.”

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that.”

“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, right?” And a little bitter. I grinned to cover the old pain.

“You are strong. Look at everything you and your brother achieved in your life with nobody’s help.”

I laughed without humor. “William, yes, he achieved a lot. Me? Well, I’m not sure yet. So far, I’m a homeless and jobless owner of a building that needs thousands of dollars to become a store and my home. Money that I don’t have.” First, Dr. Garcia’s stupid call and now my mopey life story had totally dampened the mood. “When did you decide you wanted to become an archeologist?”

“When I was eight years old, I climbed inside an abandoned manor about a mile away from where we lived.” Andrew reached out to my hand, and the pads of his fingers pressed into my skin as he rotated the bracelet.

“The same place where you got the scar on your face?”

“Yes. I explored it for a while, and then I fell through the rotten floorboards and landed in a cellar. The door wouldn’t open no matter what I tried, so I was stuck there for fourteen hours.”

I sucked air between my teeth. “Ouch. Fourteen hours? Were you scared?”

“Not really. The aftershock of pain vanished—I didn’t even know how bad it was until I saw my mother’s face—and I knew someone would find me eventually. I got thirsty, and there were several cases of unopened wine bottles.”

“Oh god.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t tell me you drank some of it?”

“It was disgusting.” Andrew gently changed the angle of my arm. “Hold still.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to put me to sleep and not hear my parents calling out my name when they came looking for me that evening when I didn’t return for supper. Eventually a sniffer dog found me. The paramedic team had to pull me out through the same hole because the wall in the basement outside the cellar had collapsed and blocked the door.”

“Did you get in trouble for trespassing and getting drunk?”

“No. I was dirty, inebriated, and blood covered my face. My parents were so happy to see me alive that they forgot to lecture me. My poor mother, I can still picture her expression.” His hands stilled, then he released a heavy sigh. “Anyway, the morning after I decided I wanted to become someone who always explores unknown places and searches for treasure, I asked my grandfather to take me on his next dig.”

Having grown up with parents who loved him, Andrew’s childhood was the polar opposite of mine. The closest William and I got to those Hallmark happy family moments was when our mom returned after some loser dumped her. We would watch a show on our crappy TV set, snuggling up on a worn-out couch, eating cheap Little Caesars Pizza, and drinking up all the attention we could get from our mom before it inevitably disappeared again. That would last for a week or two until our mother met another douchebag that swept her off her feet, and our snuggle time was gone for an unknown period.

Andrew went quiet again, sketching with a vacant smile on his face, no doubt thinking about the adventures his grandparents took him on. I didn’t even go on a school field trip because there wasn’t enough money. While Andrew explored decaying manors for lost treasure, I was brawling with the nursery of raccoons outside our crumbling trailer. The biggest adventure I had in my childhood was when Mrs. Rudy took us to a Six Flags theme park for William’s fifteenth birthday.

My eyes grew heavy, and I fought hard to keep them open, but eventually, I lost that battle.

Sometime later, I rapidly blinked while my mind figured out exactly where I was.

In Andrew’s bed with a thin blanket thrown over my body, drool running down my cheek. Great .

I wiped my face, propped myself up on an elbow, and surveyed the room. The desk lamp was on, illuminating Andrew where he was slumped in the chair, his head resting on his folded forearms, his eyes closed. His broad back slowly rose and fell. He was even more handsome when he was asleep. The fluttering in my chest was back again.

Careful not to wake Andrew, I threw the blanket off and got up. The bed made a measurable squeak, and he opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I should go to my room.”

He dragged a hand over his face and then over the back of his neck, groaning. “Thank you for staying.”

“Did you get everything you needed off the bracelet?”

With a tired but triumphant smile, Andrew turned the notebook my way. “We have half of a map.”