Heart Of Gold (9 page)

“What's
the coolest thing you've ever found?” he asked, inspecting a
wooden-handled trowel.

Carter
looked up from the printer she was attaching to a portable generator.

“I
don't really have a favorite. Everything is amazing to me. Sometimes I just sit
with a find in my hands, trying to imagine what life was like for a minuteman
in the colonial army or his wife and family. It's all just so astounding.”

“Yeah,
sure. But what about gold statues and rubies and—”

“You
mean the Indiana Jones stuff?”

Cort
nodded with enthusiasm.

“I
hate to crush your burgeoning interest in the field, but that's the movies.
Real archaeology is about painstaking, methodical work and slow, steady
progress. It's a lot of hard labor, and sometimes you come up with
nothing.” She grinned as his expression grew less fervent. “Don't
look so disappointed. We also don't have poison darts being shot at us and to
my knowledge no one's face has ever melted when they've taken the lid off
something they've dug up.”

“So
you haven't uncovered any tombs or secret catacombs?”

“Nope.
And I don't own any bullwhips or sharp-looking fedoras either. But I love what
I do.”

“I
guess that's cool.” He glanced over her shoulder as she started unpacking
journals and books. “What's all this for?”

“Daily
logs for recording each digger's work and forms for describing any finds. Some
reference materials, mapping paper to sketch out the site. We've also got the
requisite cross-referencing papers to document the relationship between and
among the finds. Here's a copy of Farnsworth's journal.”

Cort took
it and flipped through the pages, not reading them.

She held
up another book, regarding it curiously. “And this is a Fodor's guide to Budapest, although how it got in here I have no idea.”

“I
didn't think there'd be so much stuff that looks like homework,” he
muttered.

“We
don't call the office tent Papercut Central because it's a barrel of
laughs.”

Cort
grinned. “So who else is on your team?”

“Buddy
Swift and his daughter, Ellie. I'll bet you two will get along. She's your
age.”

Cort
frowned. “How old is she?”

“Fifteen.”

“She's
younger than I am. I'm sixteen.” There was a stern note to his voice.

“Oh,
sorry.” Carter hid her smile. “They're coming on Saturday. And even
with the age difference, I think you'll like Ellie. She's funny and very
smart.”

He
shrugged offhandedly. “Yeah, sure. Hey, are you going to be okay up here
all alone until then?”

“Absolutely.
I'm used to camping by myself.”

“But
there are dangerous things in these woods and it's almost a week. Maybe you
should stay at our house.” He looked worried for her, his brows drawn in
arches over his eyes.

“I'll
be fine.”

“Maybe
I should stay up here with you.”

Carter
was about to answer cavalierly when she caught the expression on his face. It
was full of hopeful warmth.

Uh-oh,
she thought, as she began to see his attentiveness in a different light.

She
smiled at him gently. “That's very kind of you but I'm looking forward to
some time by myself.”

“Oh.
But I could come up during the day, though. You'll need help before your team
gets here, right?”

“I'm
sure you have other things to do.” She rolled up an empty duffle and
crammed it into a vacant crate.

“I
would have other stuff, if I was allowed to have a life,” he grumbled.
“I wanted to go crosscountry or hiking this summer but my uncle gets his
kicks out of torturing me.”

“Well,
it's not going to be fun and games up here. I'm going to be working
nonstop.”

“That's
okay, I just want to be with—up here.”

Carter
fell silent, unsure what to do as she glanced in his direction. The kid's eyes
were showing the aching vulnerability that came with young crushes, and she
felt at a loss. She hoped that whatever he had for her was merely the amorous
equivalent of a twenty-four-hour virus. An intense case of infatuation that
he'd get over quickly. She didn't want him to get hurt.

“Is
it that you don't want me here?” His voice wavered.

“It's
not that, but—”

“Great!
I'll come every morning. Early.”

Carter
shook her head ruefully and decided it was too bad they didn't have some kind
of over-the-counter that could clear up puppy love. A decongestant for
fantasies.

“All
right,” she said. “But I'm going to put you to work. And don't come
before eight. I'm really ugly until I've had my coffee.”

“I'll
bet that's not true.” The words were blurted out as his eyes skipped away
from her.

“Cort,”
she began softly. She wasn't sure where she was going to go with it but she
needed to set some boundaries.

“What?”
he asked with an optimistic tone.

The sound
of snapping twigs turned their heads and they both stiffened as Nick came out
of the woods. He was wearing hiking boots and shorts and had a maroon
sweatshirt tied around his waist. Carter looked away from him quickly and
concentrated instead on Cort. As the kid's eyes turned resentful, she decided
the intrusion was like stepping out of quicksand and into the path of a
stampede. Not an improvement, just a change in perils.

“I've
been waiting anxiously for that tent-staking report,” Nick said smoothly
to Carter.

She felt
her skin flush.

“I
think I should stay up here with her,” Cort interjected with force.
“At least until the others come.”

Nick's
eyebrow arched.

“She
needs someone to protect her.”

His uncle
laughed. “Based on my limited experience with Ms. Wessex, somehow I doubt that.”

“She
shouldn't be alone.”

“Then
she should come down to the house. You, however, are not going to stay up here
with her.”

“Why
not?”

As anger
and frustration flared between the two, Nick looked up to the sky. “Let's
not do this.”

“Tell
me why!”

“Carter,
is there anything you need that you don't have?” Nick asked pointedly.

“I
want you to tell me why!” the kid shouted.

“Cort,
I'm not going to do this now.”

“Don't
brush me off.”

“I'm
not brushing you off.”

“The
hell you aren't. Why don't you say what you're really thinking.”

Nick took
a deep breath and wrenched a hand through his hair.

“Fine.
I'm thinking that we should change the subject. It's getting late and we should
go down for dinner.”

“You
are such a liar! I'm not going anywhere until you—”

“That's
enough,” Nick said darkly. “You're excused.”

“I'm
not a child.”

“You're
acting like one.”

“I
am not!”

“Throwing
a temper tantrum isn't adult behavior. And if Ms. Wessex needs anyone to
protect her, it wouldn't be a sixteen-year-old who behaves like a toddler,
would it?”

Carter
gasped as Cort flushed and ran away.

Nick
cursed under his breath.

“What
did you do that for?” she demanded angrily.

He didn't
respond.

“I
asked you a question. Why were you so mean to him?”

“You
think that was mean?”

“No,
you're a real self-esteem builder.” Her voice was sarcastic. “That
kid busted his ass up and down this mountain for me. I accomplished more in an
afternoon with his help than I could have alone in two days and you just took a
hunk out of him.”

“This
doesn't involve you.”

Carter
stared at him. “I'm beginning to think you're not only rude, you're
malevolent.”

Nick
pegged her with a look she was sure had made others think about life in the
hereafter. His voice was piercing as he spoke.

“I
am responsible not only for that child's amusements and petty whims, I'm
responsible for his life. ”Do you understand the difference or are you
such an adolescent yourself you can't make the distinction? There's a hell of a
discrepancy between what a teenager wants and what he needs."

Carter
met him head on leaning forward on the balls of her feet. “I may be on the
sunny side of thirty but I know no kid wants or needs to be embarrassed like
that in front of anybody. Even if you didn't want him to stay up here, you
could have let him down more easily.”

“There
is no easy letdown with him,” Nick growled. “He's a fighter and he
doesn't stop until he pushes me to the limit.”

“Then
you should try harder. You're the grown-up.”

They were
squared off, head to head, as light began to fade from the sky.

Nick
gritted out, “Let me remind you that you're here to dig in the dirt. Keep
your theories to musket balls and stay the hell away from my family. I don't
need someone else to argue with around here.”

“Then
you better stay off this mountain. Or get a personality transplant.”

They
glared at each other in acrimonious silence until she sighed angrily and looked
away from him.

“This
may have been a big mistake,” Carter muttered, brushing some hair out of
her eye.

“Not
if you do your job and stop playing social worker.”

“I
think you should go.”

His
eyebrows arched. “Are you dismissing me?”

“Either
you leave or I leave. If I leave, I have to drag all this stuff back down the
trail and I'm too tired to make the effort.”

Nick
stared at her, brows falling down tightly over his eyes. When he spoke next,
his voice was gruff. “Get this straight. I don't have to explain myself to
you. You're on my property, at my whim. I can kick you off this mountain at a
moment's notice.”

“Fine.
So do it.” Her eyes, full of challenge, met his defiantly.

Nick
frowned.

“Come
on,” she prompted. “You're doing enough masculine chest-thumping here
to make a gorilla proud. Am I leaving or not?”

There was
a long silence.

His
diamond-hard eyes drilled into her until she didn't think she could stand the
pressure anymore. But then, just before she was going to cave in and look away,
he did something totally unexpected. He leaned in toward her and reached out
his hand. When he touched her cheek with a light caress, she flinched as if
struck.

“What
are you doing?” Carter demanded, craning her neck away.

“Getting
that piece of hair out of your face.” She noticed that his voice changed.
It was softer, reflective. Seductive, almost.

Her heart
began pounding.

His thumb
stroked her cheek again and then drifted down to her jaw line.

“Stop
it,” she told him. But the tremble in her voice weakened the command.

“I
want to kiss you.”

“What?”
she sputtered.

“You
heard me. I want to kiss you.”

“No-you-don't.”
Her words came out in a rush.

“Yes,
I do.” His were slow and deliberate. “I've wanted to since you walked
into my study.”

“No-you-haven't.”

“Yes,
I have.”

“I'm-not-your-type.”

“I
don't have a type.”

“Yes-you-do.”
She just couldn't get words out fast enough.

“And
you've come to this conclusion because?”

“That
blond woman's a caricature if I ever saw one.”

He
laughed softly.

The sound
gave her strength to fight. She wasn't going to be toyed with.

“Listen,
Farrell, I'm not here for your amusement. I'm sure you're used to women
throwing themselves at you but I'm not...”

He
reached up and brushed back another tendril of hair from her face. As he tucked
it behind her ear, his hand lingered on the skin of her nape. It was the
softest of touches, the pads of his fingers just brushing over her skin.

Her mouth
went dry. She licked her lips.

“I
love it when you do that.” His voice had-grown thick with a rasp that went
straight to her spinal column. As his thumb stroked across her lower lip, she
noticed that there was nothing teasing or lighthearted about his expression. He
was deadly serious as his fingertips followed a strand of her hair down to her
collarbone. Through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, his touch burned.

Carter
knew she should pull away. She reminded herself that she was mad at him. That
he was a cruel bas—

With a
flash of movement, Nick plucked off her baseball cap, causing her hair to fall
free around her face. His eyes, sparkling with need, roamed over her as if he
had a thirst to quench and she were the stream. In response, her body answered
with a wave of desire for him so strong it threatened to topple her willpower.
As time slowed, and then stopped, she wasn't sure how to handle the surging
fever or the pounding anticipation that was coursing through her.

So she
did the only thing she could think of.

She
kissed him first.

Grabbing
the front of his shirt, crushing the collar with her hands, she pulled him down
to her mouth. Fusing her lips against his, she felt his tongue enter her mouth
in a rush and his arms go around her waist. Melding together, their bodies were
a perfect fit, her curves and his hard angles coming together seamlessly. His
arousal was thick against her, pressing into her softness.

His hands
raked through her hair, his fingers digging deep against her skull. She
couldn't keep a moan of pleasure from escaping as her body swelled. Gripping
his powerful shoulders so hard she knew she must be leaving marks, she wanted
more of him. All of him. And it didn't matter that they were on the side of a mountain.

But then
suddenly, she heard the sharp sound of a tree branch snapping and a rhythmic
beating of the air. They pulled apart, shaken. Turning toward the noise, they
watched as a hawk carried itself on great wings up into the darkening sky.