Page 12

Chapter Eleven

W hen I told Andrew that we should hit the road early in the morning, I didn’t mean before daybreak. Still, he knocked on our door before the sun even tried to reach this part of the planet.

Dazed and half asleep, I pushed on William’s shoulder. “Time to get up, handsome.” He mumbled a string of curses. “I agree.” I yawned, rubbing my eyes. “But we need to keep going. The treasure awaits.”

I checked the time and moaned: 5 a.m. Leaving the overhead lights on, I shuffled to the bathroom. When I was done washing my face and applying make-up, William pushed past me and turned on the shower, letting it warm up. His hair resembled a bird’s nest, but there was no hint of a hangover on his face.

“How are you feeling?” I passed him his toothbrush.

“Tired.” He stared at his reflection. “This can’t be accurate.”

“What?”

“My skin. God, it looks awful.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. William could spend a month with his face in the dirt, and his skin would still be better than anybody else I knew. “I tried to clean it a bit.”

He picked up the toothpaste. “Yeah. I saw bottles by the bed. Thanks.”

I pressed my hip against the door, holding my make-up bag. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He glanced at me through the mirror. “About how you don’t know a simple skin cleansing routine? That was the morning cleanser.”

Now I rolled my eyes. “No. About what was going on with you yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said and began brushing his teeth.

“It’s about Rai, isn’t it? This whole trip reminds you too much of him.”

I waited for him to finish brushing. He spat and washed his face.

Tentacles of panic grasped my stomach. I wasn’t sure what had changed in William, but this was new to me. William and I were more than brother and sister, we were best friends, sharing everything, and never keeping secrets.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “Are you going to stay here and watch me undress?”

“I’d need to bleach my eyes if I did.” I collected my dry dress and left the bathroom.

If William needed some time, I would give it to him, but now he knew I was worried about him, he should open up soon. Wouldn’t he? He told me about Rai’s decision to move to California without him the same week it happened. I was at a winery in Oregon on a work trip, but I cut it short and flew home to be with William. I was his rock just as much as he was mine. Was William keeping his feelings to himself because my life was a dumpster fire and he didn’t want to bother me with his troubles? Or was our relationship changing and he no longer wanted to confide in me? I swallowed the hurt and anxiety that had become a hard lump in my throat. I couldn’t bear the thought of not being Williams’s best friend. If I lost him, I lost everything.

* * *

Andrew was in the lobby when we arrived, his tall figure leaning against the supporting beam near the restaurant entrance, holding two coffee mugs. He looked way too good for six in the morning, with only a few hours of sleep. He gave me a warm smile and my heart flipped. Was it going to do it each time I saw him?

“Hey, for the first time, you aren’t late.” Andrew handed us the paper cups. “How are you feeling, William?”

“Hungry,” William said, accepting the cup.

I sipped the warm coffee, noticing it was made as I liked it, with one spoon of sugar and a splash of cream. Andrew had remembered.

“We’ll eat in the car.” Andrew pushed off. “I already got us a to-go breakfast.”

* * *

The sunrise over the Colombian coastal route had the intensity of flawless beauty. I unsuccessfully tried to capture it on my iPhone as we drove up the highway. The early morning air was cool and whipped around my face and bare shoulders, raising goosebumps on my skin.

“How many days are we staying there?” William called from the backseat. He was browsing the Erizo at Las Loma resort website.

“When I called this morning, I secured three rooms only for one night,” Andrew said.

“Bummer,” William said. “It sounds amazing. It has sunrise and sunset horse rides, and a huge pool.”

“And what exactly are we going to do there?” I asked, my finger playing with the bracelet stones.

“Explore,” Andrew said.

“No shit?” I said with mockery. “Could you please elaborate?”

Andrew chuckled. “I don’t know how much has changed since the renovations, but I hope to find out what Augustine meant by visiting the love birds. It could be anything. Maria adored birds. She painted them and made sculptures. Augustine brought her many birds from around the world and built her a large bird sanctuary.”

* * *

As we drove south, the scenery of the land changed with each passing hour, from the rugged mountains with their peaks disappearing in a veil of mist, to sloping hills with adobe houses scattered on the ground, their tin roofs reflecting the sun. With only one hour left, we found ourselves stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic in a village, breathing car exhaust, and baking under the hot sun, sticky sweat and black ooze coating my skin.

“If only we were driving a car with air-conditioning.” William pressed a handkerchief to his mouth and nose and threw his head backward.

Without a breeze and with so many running cars, the air quality had dropped from bad to terrible. I peeled my thighs off the seat and rose, trying to check what the hold-up was, but the truck a few cars ahead of us blocked my view. With a groan, I plopped back down.

The car line before us moved several yards. Once we turned the corner, the explanation of what had caused the traffic presented itself. A skinny dog with enlarged nipples was making circles around the gutter on the road, jumping in front of cars, then bolting back, barely avoiding being hit. Cars moved slowly around her, going onto the opposite side, creating a logjam for incoming traffic.

Andrew wheeled the car to the side and went over a curb.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my hands grabbing the dashboard.

“The dog has lost its pup.” He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Andrew got out of the Jeep, signaled for the oncoming car to slow down, and carefully approached the dog. Cars behind us honked, and drivers yelled—my guess—profanities in our direction. One blessing of not knowing the language. To help Andrew, I jumped out of the car and hurried to him. He neared the dog and it growled, then fled to nearby bushes. I wasn’t sure I could help but I could shoo the dog if it made to attack him. Andrew lowered flat on his stomach on the ground and pressed his face into the opening.

“I can hear it.” He stuck his hand inside the hole.

“Aren’t you worried there are snakes?” I asked, my gaze frantically jumping from the moving cars to the dog to Andrew.

At last, Andrew pulled out a small puppy. He stood up, cradling the pup to his chest. He whispered something to it as he approached the distressed mom and gently lowered her baby. The mother wagged its tail, visibly shaking from fear or excitement, grabbed her pup by its neck and disappeared into the bushes. My heart melted into a hot puddle and trickled down somewhere between my thighs. My attraction for Andrew was undeniable and overwhelming. I ached to kiss him. It took a lot of effort not to do that.

“You’re the sweetest man I know,” I said as we climbed into our car.

“Any decent person would have done the same.” He started the car and waved his hand out to let the car behind us know he was getting back on the road.

“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. I really needed 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.

When I cracked the door open, I found Andrew standing in the hall with his wet brown hair in total disarray, a wavy lock stuck to his forehead. I had to admit, he looked even sexier than before. He wore the same khaki pants and light green Oxford shirt as earlier, both visibly wet, as if he’d dressed without drying himself after the shower. In his hand, he clutched his leather notebook.

“Has it been an hour already?” I glanced at my watch. Forty-five minutes had passed.

Andrew blinked once, then again, and he had an expression as if he didn’t recognize me. He opened his mouth, then closed it. His behavior confused me.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

Then, as if someone had clapped their hands, he snapped out of his weird trance. “Can I come in?”

I pulled my robe tighter and stepped aside to let him enter. He paced to the window, then to the dresser, and then to my bed, his stare in constant contact with the floor. A water drop ran down my neck, tickling my skin. I wiped it away. Maybe my chaotic hairdo was the reason Andrew had lost track of his thoughts when I opened the door. Or my too-open robe.

“Are you searching for a tile with birds?” I untangled my bun and braided my hair.

“Yes.” He stopped and focused on me.

“I found one near the tub just as you were trying to break down my door.”

Andrew marched into the bathroom. A moment later, he came out, a pink hue coloring his cheeks. “It’s not it.”

“You have one in your notebook. Can I see it again?”

He strode in my direction and handed me his journal. “Maria designed it. An oak tree and Tabebuia rosea. Strength and beauty.”

The drawing was of elaborate swirls that linked branches with acorns and flowers, in the center two small birds faced each other. It was a remarkable pencil sketch.

“All right, we need to find a tile with this pattern.” With my finger I traced the drawing in the notebook, memorizing its curves and twists. I glanced up at Andrew, who was studying the tiles around my feet. When our eyes met his face again flashed an expression of wonderment. Or stupidity. Those appeared similar when there was no explanation provided. Did he also hit his head? “Andrew, are you feeling okay?”

Andrew placed his hands on my arms, his fingers curving around, sending an electric sensation inside of me. “I need to see what’s under your feet.” At least that was what I think he said, because my mind heard I need to see what’s under your robe. He gently pushed me to the left.

He looked down, and his face expressed disappointment. The tile had a similar design, but different birds faced opposite directions.

“What happens when we find it?”

“We check under it.” He stepped to my bed, dropped to all his fours, and peered under it.

“Let’s check William’s room too.” I grabbed my dress off the bed.

“I already did. We didn’t find anything. The only original room left is at the end of the hallway.”

I hid in the bathroom and quickly changed into my dress. “Okay, can we find out who booked it and talk to them?” I walked out. “We could explain our situation and ask if we can check it out.”

“We can’t.” Andrew stepped to one of the windows and pressed his hand over the panels. “I saw Brandon Pines leaving the room.”

I slid my feet into wedge sandals and bent to fasten them. “Who?”

“A museum curator who works with Richard.”

My heart sank. I was hoping we were beating Richard and Brie at this.

“Dickhead is good at his job,” I muttered, angry on Andrew’s behalf.

“But not as good as we are.” Andrew tugged on the window clasp, then pushed in the center where the panels met. “These are original to the house. Only some of the glass squares are new.”

I bit the cuticle on my thumb. If they hadn’t figured out where to look, they would soon.

Absentmindedly Andrew tapped this journal against his palm, his eyes narrowing on me. His right eyebrow lifted. “Did you do something different with your make-up?”

“No.” My cheeks heated, and I pretended to search for something in my purse. Did he not like what he saw? He must be used to high-class, glamorous women.

Andrew stepped around, catching my eyes and dazzling me with a heart-melting smile.

“I meant to say whatever you did is nice. Maybe it’s your wet hair, or I don’t know, but you look more beautiful…” He cleared his throat. “Sexy.”

His cheeks flamed with color. Oh god, this confident man blushed when he complimented me. That was way too cute. Would it be too much if I squished his face between my hands and kissed him?

“Brandon is a drinker, so he’ll be in the bar right about now. So…” Andrew bit his bottom lip as his eyes swept over me. Oh, Jesus, I knew where this was heading.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”

“You could distract him while I sneak into his room.” He grinned. “Would you?”

“You’re good at reading signs.” I pointed at my annoyed expression. “What does this mean?”

“I’m not asking you to sleep with him,” he said with a playful tone. “Just flirt a bit.”

Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal to chat with someone. But what would I say? I couldn’t think of a single time I’d intentionally toyed with someone. Sure, I flirted during a conversation, because it was a natural reaction of one human to another when there was attraction, but how to flirt on purpose? Loop my hair around a finger and bat my eyelashes? Better not. Or I’d appear I was a few clowns short of a circus.

My stomach twisted in the same sickening way as it did when Jeff slid his hand on my thigh and asked me to go to his room with him. Would Andrew have asked me to do this if he’d known the story? Probably not.

“Fine.” I jabbed my finger into Andrew’s hard chest. “But if he touches me or does something I don’t like, I’m not responsible for my actions.” I grabbed my purse.

“Adriana.” Andrew wrapped his hand over my forearm, stopping my hand and reaching for the doorknob. “Promise me that at any moment you don’t feel comfortable, you’ll walk away, and find me.”

I didn’t feel comfortable now but I wanted to help, so I had to do it. “I promise.”