Page 18

Chapter Seventeen

O n the way, we explained to William why the Cascada de Belleza Escondida was the ideal next place to search for the clue. We knew where it was. It wasn’t far, and there was a chance Pérez’s treasure was still there because, after Maria’s death, Augustine fell into a deep depression, and there wasn’t any record of him relocating it from its original hiding place.

The first hour we sped on the highway, passing farms, rundown houses with horses tethered to the fence rails, and vendors on motorbikes. Then the old Jeep traversed rough terrain, climbing the road guarded by a rich forest on each side. In the last thirty minutes, we drove on switchback paths that seemed unused by cars, the contents of my stomach ping-ponging around.

The closer we got to our destination, the more enthusiastic Andrew spoke about how he couldn’t wait to write a dissertation on Augustine Pérez. Andrew was like a child waiting for Santa Claus, dying to open his presents. Whereas for me, my stomach sunk lower with the notion that soon we would go our separate ways, and I would never know the feel of Andrew’s strong arms wrapping tight around my body and bringing me against him. Preferably naked.

In a surprising turn of events—I loved the thrill of this trip.

Eventually, we arrived at the point where the car could no longer pass through the jungle. Andrew parked and turned the motor off. Giant trees dominated the skyline with their heavy tops reaching for the sun. Thick vines tangled from tree to tree, creating a complex network above our heads. No sunlight made its way through the leaves, but to my surprise, the grounds weren’t as overgrown with invasive vegetation as I’d imagined. The humid air pulsated with insects buzzing and frogs yelping. Nearby a bird shrieked. At least, I hoped it was a bird.

Andrew compared the penciled-in markings on a paper map to his portable GPS.

“We’ll walk the rest of the way.” Andrew folded the map and slid it into his front pocket. He got out of the Jeep and stretched, making my pulse work harder, and then he put the hat on. An image of Andrew wearing only that hat and nothing else materialized in my head so quickly that I had to turn away, afraid William would read my mind and blurt something stupid to embarrass me.

We poured out of the car, each taking a machete and a backpack. We weren’t planning to stay overnight in the jungle, but just in case, we had two days’ worth of water and snacks. Andrew opened the rear door, unhatched its side, and removed a rifle stock and barrel with attached scope.

“Whoa,” I said, frozen in place. “What’s that for?”

“Wild animals. People that want to hurt you.” He deadpanned and inserted the barrel into the wooden receiver.

He had a point. We were about to enter a territory governed by ferocious big cats.

“Wait.” I paused, pulling the water bottle from the backpack’s side pocket. “What people? Dr. Dickhead?”

“No. He might be a scumbag, but I can’t imagine him getting violent, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t others who might hurt us. Just playing it safe.” Andrew slid open the lever and loaded several rounds into the magazine, pushed the lever in its place, and slung the rifle over his shoulder.

“How long have you had it?” I nodded at the gun and took a swig of the water. Some missed my mouth and ran down my chin and neck.

Andrew’s eyes followed the drop. “Since we borrowed the car.”

“Do they teach you how to use it at Cambridge?”

“No. But my father did.” Andrew checked his GPS and nodded straight ahead. “Just keep in mind,” he said, pointing a finger first at William, who was taking pictures with his phone, then at me, “the jungle is not a playground. If you see anything cute or pretty, don’t touch it. It most likely will kill you.”

These words pulled William out of his selfie mode. “What do you mean by pretty and by kill us? Jaguars?”

“Jaguars, snakes, scorpions, frogs, spiders, ants.”

I should have bought pants. A bug landed on my knee, and I smacked it.

William pointed his iPhone at Andrew and took a picture. “Princesses kiss frogs in fairy tales.” I would need to ask him to airdrop it for me later. I hadn’t taken any pictures of Andrew yet, and I wanted one.

“The poison dart frog has enough toxin coating its skin to kill twenty people. You wouldn’t want to kiss that.” Andrew’s hand went over his shoulder to his backpack, and he removed a machete attached to it. “Give me a minute. And don’t go anywhere.”

He stalked in the opposite direction he’d said we would go. I stared at his fine ass before it disappeared in tangled green vegetation.

“Where do you think he’s going?” I swatted at the bugs buzzing around my face. This was going to be annoying.

William shrugged. “Take a leak?”

I’d avoided coffee this morning for just that reason. There was no way I was going to pee in a jungle where apparently everything was lethal. William handed me a can of bug repellent, and I sprayed it around my legs and arms.

Andrew returned, and we started to tread through the striking rainforest, following the equally striking man leading our adventure.

“Do you know where you’re going?” William scratched his neck behind the bandana.

“I’m making it up as I go,” Andrew called over his shoulder, no humor in his voice. After a pause, he chuckled and chopped off a green waxy leaf, the muscles in his arm tensing against his shirt sleeves.

I thought Colombian jungles at higher elevations would be cooler, but I was wrong. Soon, sweat trickled down my forehead in a steady steam, and two hours later my shirt was sticking to my back as if someone had sprayed me with a garden hose.

By the time the roaring sound of the waterfall filtered through the lush greenery, my legs wanted to buckle, and I wanted to strangle William because his constant complaints about bugs didn’t make our trek any easier.

“We’re close.” Andrew took the hat off and wiped his face with his forearm, then put it back on.

Meandering our way around tall bushes, we emerged at a site of pure grandeur. In the core of the untouched rainforest, there were a series of small tier-style waterfalls flowing around rocks and greenery, weaving their way down into a pool and toppling over an edge into a milky-blue lake with a kaleidoscope of white, pink, red, and yellow flowers all around it. A slender rainbow arched above it as if hinting at the path to the pot of gold. A thrill ran through me.

We wound down to the water and dropped our backpacks on the ground.

“What a fantastic view.” I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand and spied a flock of small white birds rushing from one tree to the other. “No wonder they picked this place to get married.”

With his hands on his hips, Andrew surveyed our surroundings. William sauntered over to Andrew, his shoulders back, chest out like a royal penguin during mating season and took the same stance. “So, mate, what are we going to do next?”

“We go for a swim.”

William looked mildly horrified, and I knew why. “You think the treasure is in the lake?”

“No. It’s behind that.” Andrew nodded at the broad body of water tumbling off the cliff about a hundred feet from us.

The aftershock of the stunning beauty vanished, and I realized that as alluring as this place was, it wasn’t the same waterfall Augustine had sketched. The museum picture had a large, single waterfall, similar to Ruby Falls in northern Georgia.

“Andrew, this isn’t the place,” I said, stretching my back.

“You’re right. But we know he hid things here. To get here wasn’t difficult,” Andrew said. “His crew could easily bring all the cargo and store it here.”

“In his correspondence, the name of the location from where they brought the trunk is different than what they call this place.” I pulled my ponytail off my sweaty neck and secured it into a bun.

“It’s possible they called it by two names,” Andrew said, turning to look at me. “We’re here, and I’m going to see what’s behind.”

William raised his hands in the air in surrender. “I’m staying on the shore.”

“What’s the matter?” Andrew kneeled and began untying his shoes.

“My brother is only afraid of two things.” I bent to undo my boots too. I wasn’t going to stay here. I wanted to see what was behind the waterfall. “Muddy water and halitosis.”

Andrew snorted and pulled his socks off.

“But I’ll go,” I said.

“And leave me here alone?” William whined. “With all the hungry animals?”

“Use the rifle,” Andrew said. “It’s already loaded.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Take safety off. Point. Pull trigger.”

Andrew unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. His arm and back muscles flexed and rippled as he neatly folded his shirt and placed it atop his backpack. And oh, my heart. We might not have found lost treasure, but I may have found the sole reason for global warming. Dr. Andrew Jones was hot . His torso resembled a chiseled marble masterpiece.

“So,” William said to Andrew’s back, mouthing Oh My God to me and fanning himself with his hand, “do you go to the gym regularly or does dusting off mummies keep you in such great shape? I’m a member of the gym in my office building.”

I scoffed. Because that was all he was. A member, not a frequent visitor.

Andrew’s hands went for his belt, and my jaw unhinged. Sweet mother of Jesus, he was going to take those off, too? He unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants, unzipped his fly, and—I ceased to breathe by this point—stepped out of his pants. Holy mother of all round and hard places. I could bounce a quarter of that butt. It was like a giant, firm Georgia sweet peach. My favorite fruit. My mouth watered.

de·i·ty |?dē?dē|

NOUN: The handsome, tender-hearted, intelligent, virile, living, and breathing god, Andrew Oliver Jones, with the body of an ancient Greek statue, only with all body parts attached.

ORIGIN: Probably in his early twenties or right after he hit puberty.

“I run. I row,” Andrew finally said. Wearing only the Fedora and boxer briefs, Andrew rested his hands on his hips again and looked straight ahead, his eyes assessing the lake in front of him.

“Oh yeah, me too.” William loosened the bandana around his neck.

While Andrew stared at the water, I couldn’t stop gawking at him.

William offered the bandana to me. “Here you go.”

“What’s that for?” I asked, taking it.

“To wipe your drool.”

“Oh, fuck off.” I hurled the fabric at him.

Andrew dropped the hat on top of the pile of his discarded clothes, grabbed a flashlight out of the pocket of his backpack, and looked at me over his shoulder. “You coming?”

Wide-eyed, I nodded, and my fingers flew to my shirt.

“What are you doing?” William gaped. “Did you bring a swimsuit?”

I didn’t.

My hands stopped. What to do? Andrew needed me to go with him. I wanted to go with him. Every fiber in my body begged me to go with him. It never bothered me to parade in front of strangers in a swimsuit, which was more revealing than the beige panties and a bra I wore today. Damn it. I should have grabbed a lacier pair. My pulse raced but for the wrong reasons. What was I afraid of? My body was in good shape. Not great, but good. Constant traveling and eating out made it impossible to keep in tip-top form, but I ran several days a week.

What if Andrew didn’t like how I looked naked?

No .

I didn’t care. If he didn’t like what he saw, then it was his problem.

“Ugh, what the hell,” I muttered and began unbuttoning my shirt.

I glanced up and found Andrew staring at me. After a hesitation, I took off my shirt and tossed it on my backpack. He didn’t look away, the smirk more prominent than usual. I hesitated before pulling down my shorts, my gaze interlocked with Andrew’s. And I think he held his breath. Or was I holding my breath? Oh, whatever, who needed oxygen? Breathing was overrated.

I dropped my shorts on the ground and stepped out of them. Andrew’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes did a slow sweep of my body.

“I’ll wait in the water.” He quickly submerged himself into the lake until he was waist deep.

William brought a fist to his mouth and bit on it, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, get over yourself.” I went past William, an impish smile plastered on my face.

“William,” Andrew called out, “don’t wander away. If we don’t come back in an hour, come look for us.”

“Make sure you come back here in an hour,” William said, plopping on the ground near the rifle. “Are there any piranhas in there? Or water snakes?”

Turtles? I wanted to say, knowing it would get a rise out of William.

“We’ll find out soon.” Andrew flashed a cocky smile.

Leaving William on the shore, I carefully stepped onto the slippery stones at the edge, cool water engulfing my feet and bringing a refreshing feeling of relief after a hike in the jungle. I crept farther. Goosebumps rushed in quick waves over my skin, and for the first time this week, it wasn’t Andrew who made my nipples hard.

I made the next step and the lakebed abruptly dropped, plunging me chest deep.

“Oh my god,” I squealed from the shock.

“What?!” William yelped. “Is there something in the water?”

“No. It’s just cold.” I started laughing, remembering William’s graduation party with his friends at someone’s lake house. We had gotten a bit rowdy, and the guys, including my brother, had decided to skinny dip. I kept my bikini on and stayed on the dock, chatting with other girls. About five minutes later William screamed in pain. A turtle had bitten him. The good news was that most people in that group were in the medical field. They acted fast and saved his big toe.

“It’s not funny,” William shouted now. “It could have been another part of my body!”

“What is he talking about?” Andrew asked as I paddled to him.

“That’s his story to tell.”

We swam out as close as possible to the waterfall and then stopped. While treading water and fighting the strong current that kept pulling my legs under, I craned my neck and stared at the tall, gushing wall of water. The idea of swimming through it was much easier to imagine than to do, especially when I was near it.

“I can touch the bottom with my feet,” Andrew yelled to me over the cascading water roar. “Give me your hand.” He reached out and linked his fingers with mine. When he pulled me to him, my body bumped against his, and my heartbeat jumped into my throat.

I met his gaze, and I probably looked as shell-shocked as I felt. Andrew’s face was so close to mine that the different hues in his eyes became clearer. Water droplets clung to his long, dark eyelashes, and he blinked them away. My brain short-circuited, over-processing what was going on below the surface. I pressed against Andrew’s torso. My right hand wrapped around his neck, and his arm encircled my waist. My legs were halfway slung around his hips, and I was sure my left ankle was brushing against his John Thomas.

Should I do it again? Just to confirm?

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said and took a deep breath himself, his chest expanding.

I followed suit but also pinched my nose with my free hand. Andrew tightened his grip on my body and stepped under the ice-cold force. The water pushed down on me, snatching my bra straps off my shoulders, and a blaring crash in my ears blocked off the outside world.