“Oh, your ass certainly looks bad. You’re getting plenty of naughty glances, I can tell you that,” Sunny said with a smirk, and nodding her head toward the other guests.
Corrie didn’t bother checking whether Sunny was right. This dress was designed to catch plenty of glances. None, however, compared to the way that Ford looked at her. Looked at her not just like she was a pretty face or had a killer body, but like he saw her. Truly saw who she was.
She missed his glances. She missed everything about him.
“Have you gone through the exhibition yet?” Sunny asked, cutting off Corrie’s thoughts.
“No, not yet. Did you help Ethan and Gabriel with all this? Because what I’ve seen so far looks incredible.”
Sunny smiled and stood straighter. “Thank you. We designed it together.”
Sunny had stayed with Ethan and hadn’t gone back to Yale, not after everything that had happened. Not with Ford no longer there. And certainly not with Dr. Crawley still lurking around, denying all culpability for the Vautour scandal. His tenure might have kept him at the university, but at least his reputation had been ruined. Corrie hoped he enjoyed his new position sitting in a crusty, dusty old office, shielded from the outside world.
“I haven’t seen Ethan yet. Where is he?”
“Over here, my dear,” Ethan said, taking a bow.
Corrie burst out laughing, good ole Corrito Burrito back in action. God, it had been a long time since she’d laughed like that.
“You are stunning, Dr. Mejía. Not that there was ever any doubt,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it before saying hello to Miri, then wrapping his arm around Sunny and kissing her on the lips.
Corrie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Quit being ridiculous.”
“I shall not!” he said, puffing up his chest like a knight in shining armor. “I do, however, have a surprise for you.” He relaxed his shoulders and offered his arm. “Come with me, milady.”
“I’ll be back,” she said to Miri and Sunny. She took Ethan’s arm and he escorted her to the exhibition entrance, still blocked off with a red velvet rope.
“After you. Before we open it to the masses,” he said, unclipping the rope to let her through.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He nodded. “This one’s for you, Corrie. Have it all to yourself and soak it in.”
She reached over the velvet rope and grabbed his face, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Then she left the bustling entrance hall, went through the velvet curtain, and entered the Aztec Empire. Room by room, the exhibition detailed stages of the Aztec Empire and Chimalli’s life. Her heels echoed on the floor tiles as she slowly weaved through each room. She stopped at the glass case holding the tecpatl and sucked in a breath. Now that it was cleaned up, you could finally see it in all its glory. A far cry from the last time she’d seen it lying next to Ford’s bloody body.
The image of him lying beside the river flashed through her head, and she quickly shook it away. No. Don’t go back there. That day frequently invaded her thoughts, but the vision of Ford’s bloody body wasn’t something she ever wanted to relive.
She moved on to the next room to a new display titled, “Love Begets Love.” Hmm. Corrie made her way to the wall, to a photo of her and Ford at the dig site. She’d never seen this photo before, of the two of them kneeling beside the foundation of Chimalli’s adobe home, smiling at each other as if no one was watching. Underneath the photo read a caption: LEAD ARCHAEOLOGIST DR. SOCORRO MEJ?A AND ASSISTANT ARCHAEOLOGIST DR. FORD MATTHEWS.
Lead?
Corrie turned as if to ask the question, but no one was there.
She moved on to the next photo in the display, this one of her and Ford laughing in the mess tent. Seeing his smile made her hurt. Who’d taken this photo? Where had they gotten it? Moving on, there were dozens of other photos of the two of them. Candid shots of them being real. Shots when they hadn’t thought anyone was watching. A plaque beside the collection of photos read:
An extraordinary warrior and an ordinary villager. An unlikely pair brought together by their own ideals of what life should be. Out of the search for these two lost souls came another unlikely pair—this one an ordinary professor and an extraordinary adventurer. Also lost souls, albeit in a different way, these archaeologists found in each other what Chimalli and Yaretzi had found in the same jungle hundreds of years earlier: true love.
They say a picture speaks a thousand words. These photos were taken without their knowledge—every reaction is 100 percent real. The photographer had planned to use these photos against them (see the “Sex, Smuggling, and Blackmail” display in the next room). The only thing he caught, however, was proof that even the most unlikely of pairs can fall in love.
Corrie wiped a tear from her eye as she looked at the photos, placing her hand on one at the waterfall. A clothed one, thank God, though the nude ones had already been well circulated by now. She’d expected more slut shaming, but, surprisingly, the community had rallied behind her. This time, however, rather than shy away from the attention, Corrie embraced it. What did she have to hide, anyway? That she’d had sex with a man she loved and that some Peeping Tom had tried to exploit her? Sure, she’d prefer that her colleagues—or anyone else who’d not shared her bed—not know what she looked like naked, but she figured their prying eyes said more about their character than her own.
She couldn’t believe that rat Lance had actually survived his dive over the waterfall and that he’d had the forethought to create digital backups of the photos. But at least he was behind bars for multiple counts including voyeurism, kidnapping, and attempted murder.
“Dr. Mejía.”
A smile formed on her face at the sound of that luscious timbre. It might have only been a few hours since they’d spoken on the phone, but hearing that voice in person and knowing this time she’d be able to touch him—well, she couldn’t help the butterflies swirling in her stomach.
Slowly, she turned, leaning against the wall. There he was, sexy as hell in his tuxedo. Hands in his pockets. Leaning against the doorway on the other side of the room. Far too distant for her liking.
“Dr. Matthews,” she responded with hooded eyes, the desire dripping from her lips.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
“Mind what?”
“This,” he said, motioning his head to the wall behind her. “Lance had been watching us from the moment you arrived.”
“Well, aside from the fact that he was the source, I love it. I hate to admit it, but he had a knack for photography. Caught the exact moment that I fell for you.”