Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection (89 page)

“Interesting,” Judy said. She got up and quickly returned with a notebook and pen. “And what about your parents? How did they raise you? What did you tell you about your powers?”

Not having parents to love and protect him had never really been a sore spot for him. That is, until he saw the fierce love Judy and James had for their daughter. Their close relationship dug like salt into a long ignored childhood wound.

“This isn’t something I like to talk about,” Horace answered.

“They don’t have parents,” Faith supplied. “They’re all orphans who had to struggle alone in the world until they found each other.”

“Really?” Judy turned her attention back on Horace. “You had no one? No one at all?”

He shook his head. It hurt his pride to admit it, but he had no reason to lie. He’d missed not having what all the other kids had.

“You poor dear.” Judy’s expression softened.

“Now see here,” James protested. “I don’t want you falling under his spell, too.”

“He needs us,” Judy said. “Look at him. You can see it in his eyes. He’s lost. Faith is right. He needs us.”

James grunted into his teacup.

“No one knows the cultures of this world better than my parents. What they haven’t experienced first-hand, they have read and studied in the reports of others,” Faith said with great pride. “They can help us.”

She started to peel off her sweater to show her parents the lioness mark that he’d seared into her skin.

“Please…don’t…” Horace didn’t want to give Faith’s parents another reason to hate him.

“This is important,” she said, and flashed him a quick smile.

He didn’t know what that smile had been for, and he felt like a starving beggar scrambling to scoop up crumbs as he drank in how good it felt to see her smiling at him like that. He got all caught up wondering how he might get her to smile at him again, and had completely missed that she’d slipped off her sweater.

The skin around the black outline of the lioness still looked red and puffy. He vaguely remembered that his own mark that had been seared into his skin sometime during his two missing years had taken weeks to heal.

“It appeared a few days ago while we…
um
…” She had the decency to blush. “Well, I was wondering if you’d seen anything like it. We have no idea what it might mean.”

Judy closed her eyes and shook her head.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Faith?” James demanded.

“What?” Faith asked. “Do you recognize it?”

“The
Sinchi-cuna
,” James said. “Well, it’s something that looks very much like it.”

“
Sinchi-cuna
?” Horace asked.

Faith furrowed her brows as she shook her head. “It means ‘valiant now’. It’s a phrase that was used in the time of the Incas. The
Sinchi
was a warrior. A champion, of sorts.”

“A
protector
?” he asked, his heart in his throat.

She nodded. And so did her mother. “And the
Sinchi-cuna
was a name they used for the temporary leader of these warriors. Isn’t that not right, Dad?”

“That’s essentially correct,” James said.

“He’s writing a book on the Incas,” she explained. “I’ve never heard of there being a mark depicting the
Sinchi-cuna
, though. Is there one?”

“Well, not really,” James said. “At least, not one that has been verified. However, we recently stumbled across a remote tribe that believes themselves to be descendants of the original Incas of Cuzco. Their holy man showed us a cave high in the mountains. Inside this cave were several petroglyphs—including one that looked very much like that. He called it the
Sinchi-cuna
.”

“Do you remember the legend of how the Incas were formed?” Judy asked Faith.

Faith, her cheeks bright from the excitement of the discovery, nodded vigorously. “Their god, Ticci Viracocha, sent four men and four women, called The Brethren, through a window into our world. They were to be lords over the land.”

Judy fixed her gaze on Horace with such intensity it made him shiver. “These eight men and women knew no father or mother.”

“Just like you, it seems,” James said to Horace stiffly.

“No,” Faith protested. “No, Horace isn’t like them. He couldn’t be.”

“Why not?” Horace asked. Something about this story sounded eerily familiar.

“Because they were vicious conquerors. Cruel to everyone they encountered. They murdered, and those they didn’t kill, they forced from their lands. As they traveled across South America, four of them came to bad ends. Karma at work, I suppose. The remaining four fought a bloody battle to win a fertile piece of land between two rivers. There, they erected the
Yrti-cancha
, the House of the Sun.”

“There were other petroglyphs in the cave,” James said. “The holy man had insisted that one in particular represented a man he’d met.”

“And what did that symbol look like?” Faith whispered the question while she watched Horace’s reaction too attentively.

“It was a sun symbol,” James said, “but the holy man called it the
Ccapac-tocco
, the chief lord. A king.”

“No.” Horace rose from the sofa. He didn’t want to hear any more. It had nothing to do with what was happening to him…or to Faith. “No. I’m not a king.”

“No one said you were,” James said. But the three of them had already started to look at him differently. “The beliefs of this tribe are unique. I suppose by being cut off from the outside world for centuries, their culture and legends diverged from the rest of the Aymaran people. New tales arose from the old ones.”

“Or perhaps their legends are closer to those handed down by the original Incas,” Judy pointed out.

“Either way, it’s interesting. I’m hoping Judy and I will get to spend more time with them next summer.”

“Where?” Horace demanded.

James shook his head. “They don’t welcome visitors. I promised to not share that knowledge with anyone.”

“Where? Where did you see this?” He tore off his own shirt to show James the mark on his arm, a mark that could cost him and Faith their lives. “If you love your daughter, you will tell me. Where did you see this mark?”

“In Bolivia,” James said as he stared at the mark with a stricken look. “Last summer.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Bolivia?” Stone demanded. “There aren’t lions in Bolivia. Well, mountain lions, but that’s different.”

“I know it sounds crazy.” Horace slung the small bag he’d packed over his shoulder and tucked the last-minute plane ticket to La Paz into his shirt pocket. “It is crazy. I don’t know how to explain it. Those missing years in my past, I think I was there. I think I was with this lost tribe in Bolivia. I have to go. I have to find out what’s happening to me.”

Faith planted her hands on her hips and blocked the café door. “Not without me.”

“Don’t start this again, Faith. Please. I’m doing my best to keep you safe. Not punish you.” Of course he didn’t want to leave her, but it would destroy him if she came to any harm on the trip. She could be stubborn all she wanted. He wasn’t going to lose her.

“You know as well as I do that it’s too dangerous to take you along.”

“It’ll be even more dangerous for you if you try and leave me behind.”

“Don’t you threaten me,” he warned and hoped the snarling look he gave her would convince Faith that he planned to win this argument. She wasn’t going with him.

End of discussion.

* * * * *

His snarling didn’t worry Faith. Well, not too much. Horace had struck a rather menacing pose when she’d tried to stop him from leaving the café without her. And the way he’d tried to grab her made her wonder, albeit briefly, whether he was going to wring her neck.

He didn’t. When he finally caught her, he’d slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her until Faith didn’t know up from down.

“Seduction isn’t going to change my mind,” she’d told him somewhat breathlessly. And then stumbled a couple of steps. “You need me. I’m an anthropologist, remember?”

Horace didn’t look impressed.

She clutched the back of a chair since his kisses had turned her legs into noodles. Besides, if he came at her, she could use the chair against him like a lion tamer at the circus. “I can help you. And don’t forget I have full use of
your
powers. You don’t. It would be dangerous to leave me alone for long periods of time.” She paused just long enough to make him scowl again. “You wouldn’t want me to have to find another anchor, would you?”

And that had settled that.

* * * * *

The crisp Bolivian mountain air filled Faith with renewed energy. Lush green leaves sprinkled with dew brushed her face as she marched along a slightly overgrown trail that wound through the Andes Mountains. She hadn’t realized how much she missed going on expeditions. Anticipation hummed through her veins as she looked forward to meeting for herself this forgotten tribe her parents had discovered.

Her old traveling gear and hiking outfit hugged her body like a trusted friend. She wore heavy khaki pants with pockets filled with useful tools, a lavender tank top with a white long-sleeved cotton shirt, and a pair of well-worn thigh-high hiking boots. She felt at home in these clothes and in this place. A smile pulled on her lips as she gazed up at the soaring emerald green canopy while a light breeze whispered through its branches.

Horace bit off a curse. He’d slipped on the hard-packed clay, again. And slammed into her back, again.

She’d tried to talk him into buying a pair of boots, but he said that they’d only raise blisters. Which was right. They’d hurt like hell until they were broken in. But at least he wouldn’t be sliding all over the trail.

It had never occurred to Faith that Horace would be uncomfortable away from the city. She loved getting away from the so-called civilized world. She didn’t want or need a trendy coffee shop around every corner. By the way Horace scowled, it looked as if he did.

He might not be willing to admit his feelings. And she hated the insecurity she felt when she thought about the control he held over her heart. But Horace needed her. She wished he would come to his senses already and realize just how much.

Did he still see her as his servant? His possession? It rankled her to think he could be that blind when it came to their relationship. But Faith resolved not to let her pride
or his
stop her from helping him. Whether he chose to acknowledge it or not, they were a team.

Sooner or later, he’d figure that out. She hoped.

They were meant to be together. Even if she had to give up everything to move to a painfully civilized part of the world and into a tidy home surrounded by a white picket fence to make him happy—if it
kept
him happy—she’d be willing to make the sacrifice. She hoped.

“We can take a break in an hour or so,” she said as she jumped over a large rock. “I packed you a candy bar.”

That brought a smile to his lips.

Yes
,
Faith thought, it is good thing he brought me. She had the experience to carry out expeditions like this one. And if she hadn’t been here to take control of the map, Horace would probably be wandering around in circles right about now.

“There’s the trail to the village,” she said, pointing toward the south.

Horace squinted at an overgrown section of the forest crowded with weeds and vines. “Where?”

In the tropics, vines grew with such speed that Faith sometimes felt as if their living tendrils were reaching out for her. She pushed aside the recent growth. The ground below the vines had been packed from centuries of use. “Here,” she said.

“Doesn’t look like a trail,” he grumbled as he followed her up the steep incline.

Horace looked so adorably put out that her heart squeezed. Her lover, her soul mate was at her side as she forged forward, following her passion. Everything felt right with the world.

She wondered how long it would last.

* * * * *

It took a full three days to reach the village Faith’s parents had marked on the map. Horace had been glad for the company and for Faith’s unerring sense of direction. He’d been even happier to have her around at night. To have her under the stars.

Only once did they have to stop in the middle of the day to cool his swirling powers that now lived within Faith’s body.

But he was worried. This morning she’d awoken with that strange glow encircling her head, and she’d been suspiciously quiet. Horace could tell she’d been brooding about something for the past few days. Apparently, whatever ate at her had finally taken its toll. When Horace asked her about it, she’d brushed off his concerns and assured him that she felt fine.

An obvious lie.

By the time they’d stopped for lunch, sparks sizzled in the air. Still, Faith insisted she could handle his powers, and whatever else was troubling her. It wasn’t until she’d accidentally set a nearby tree on fire that she finally admitted defeat.

“
I can’t
,” she whispered while silent tears washed her face.

Horace gently stripped off her clothes and dipped her in a nearly mountain stream where a small waterfall had created a natural whirlpool. The cool swirling water teased their bodies.

Holding her in the pool of water, he touched her, caressed her, and found her ready for him.

He didn’t need any encouragement. He took Faith hard and fast. She climaxed almost immediately as she clung to him. He felt her need for him so sharply that he fought off taking his own pleasure while he brought her to her peak for a second time.

Afterwards, Horace wrapped Faith in a blanket, and simply held her. Stroking his fingers through her damp hair. “Are you ready to talk about what’s been bothering you yet?”

She shook her head as if trying to push away her emotions. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide her feelings, not when Horace could clearly read them in the tears that still floated in her eyes.

But until she was ready to talk, Horace remained content to cradle Faith in his arms, patiently waiting and praying she would find it in her heart to open up to him.

“This is the life I want,” she said after a long tense silence, her voice husky and rough. “I’m not trying to prove myself to my parents. Not anymore. I love getting out into the world. I love learning about new civilizations. And learning from them.”