Words of Love

chapter NINETEEN



Jesse stifled a sob with her hand as she stumbled back into camp.

What an idiot.

She came to a stop, her eyes full of tears, staring at the tent. Had she and Brett only been here a couple of days? It felt like a lifetime. She and Brett had made love in that tent only yesterday.

She angrily shook her head.

“Fool,” she muttered.

She’d really deluded herself this time–a guy like him and someone like her. Here he was, on the verge of the most important archaeological discovery of all time.

And she was a Jittery Jessica.

His stricken face hung in the air in front of her when he’d realized they couldn’t be together. The words he’d said rang in her ears. She pushed her hands down over them and shut her eyes.

‘We can’t be together.’

Now she did sob.

He’d looked as pained as she felt–as though a knife stabbed deeply into her chest. She clutched it as she staggered toward the tent. Inside, she fell on her bed, still crying, and instantly curled into a ball.

She had completely fallen for him–had even been on the verge of saying it. And for a moment, for just a moment, she had thought he loved her too.

And maybe he did–but not more than he loved the site.



• • • • •



Brett remained on his knees.

Still breathing hard, he stared down at the Jester God on the blue jade tablet in the plastic bag. Then he looked in the direction of the other six caves. Not one hundred yards away lay the most fabulous burial of all time and, in his hand, he held the clue that would unlock it.

Thanks to Jesse.

He looked in the opposite direction, across the main plaza of the Maya ruins, back toward camp.

Jesse.

He didn’t want them to be apart. It was the last thing he wanted. And he hadn’t intended to hurt her either. But that’s exactly what he’d just done. His one hand clenched into a fist and the other gripped the jade tablet.

What kind of ass am I?

It was his obsession, he told himself. The burial in the seventh cave was going to make his career–set him on an upward trajectory like a rocket. He’d sacrificed his marriage for it. He’d risked everything. Brought them through a freaking monsoon.

He took the tablet from the plastic bag.

The low relief carving of the Jester God sparkled in the light of the lantern. Suddenly, he imagined himself standing in front of an ornate, carved panel in some subterranean room beneath the stairs where this had been laying. There would be a hole where the strange outline of the tablet would fit. Then the burial of the Red King would be revealed. And, in his imagination, he turned to Jesse.

But she wasn’t there.

He blinked.

In that moment of supreme joy at the ultimate achievement, she wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t be able to share it with her. He would be alone.

For the past three years, being alone had been good. It had been necessary but it had also been good. He’d let his obsession have full reign. Over and over, he’d imagined finding the Red King. And always he’d imagined himself alone.

Now, that wasn’t right.

Suddenly, the feeling was hollow.

He got to his feet, grabbed the lantern, and headed toward camp.