Part 6 (1/2)
Was this act a way of protecting herself, avoiding his questions because she'd revealed too much? Liam couldn't forget the shock he'd felt when he'd seen her with the photograph. Until that moment she'd been only an unforeseen burden to dispose of in the nearest safe place, some eccentric suffragist amateur explorer who'd been lost or deliberately abandoned, left for him to save.
After what had happened yesterday, he'd never considered doing otherwise.
The sharp sting of recent memory made the bitterness rise in his throat: Perry's revelation, the knowledge that Liam's trust in his partner had been entirely misplaced; the fight, drinking to drown the rage and loss, waking up this morning to find the bearers, mules, and nearly all the supplies gone. With Perry.
Abandoned. Betrayed by the one man he'd thought he could trust. The man who stood beside him in that d.a.m.ned photograph.
He'd thought the girl in far more desperate straits than himself. She was of the weaker s.e.x, in spite of her ridiculous beliefs to the contrary. But nowa”now he felt a grinding suspicion in his gut, wild thoughts fully as mad as the woman's incoherent ramblings and disjointed explanations.
Liam scowled at Miss MacKenzie's inward stare. She wasn't the only one with wits gone begging. A woman?
Even Perry wouldn't sink so low. And there hadn't been time. But since yesterday nothing seemed beyond possibility.
And their meeting had seemed more than merely coincidence.
He studied her, chin on fist, allowing himself full rein to his imagination. Perry would never a.s.sume that his erstwhile partner would be distracted by a woman like this. She was hardly beautiful. Her hair was short, her jaw too stubborn, her figure too slender. Though she'd proven she was, in fact, female enough when the rain had soaked through her s.h.i.+rt.
He found himself gazing at her chest. More there than he'd first noticed; come to think of it, she couldn't pa.s.s for a boy, not unless that loose s.h.i.+rt were completely drya You've been without a woman too long, O'Shea. He snorted. No. At best Perry would expect him to be delayed further, getting the girl back to civilization. That would neatly fit in with his intentions.
Liam's hand slammed into the wet stone of the temple. Perry knew too d.a.m.ned much about him. He knew Liam wouldn't leave any woman alone in the jungle, no matter what his circ.u.mstancesa”without supplies or bearers or even a single scrawny mulea Because you trusted him. The rage bubbled up again, and with very little effort he could imagine his fist connecting with Perry's superior, aristocratic face.
By the saints, it wasn't over yet. When Liam got back' to San Franciscoa”
”That's it.”
He snapped out of his grim reverie. Miss MacKenziea””Mac,” the name she had called herself and which suited her so wella”had apparently recovered her senses. Or ended her game. She was on her feet, looking out over the jungle.
”I'm going back,” she announced.
Liam rose casually. The top of her cropped head came almost to his chin; tall for a woman. He hadn't realized that before.
”Back wherea”Mac?” he drawled.
Her stare was no longer unfocused. She looked at him as if she'd like to pitch him over the side of the pyramid. ”Only my friends call me Mac,” she said, ”and you're not my friend. You're a figment of my overheated imagination.”
He gave a startled bark of laughter. Whoever and whatever she was, she had the ability to make him hover between laughter and outrage. She was too d.a.m.ned good at keeping him off balance. Was that her purposea”and Perry's?
To h.e.l.l with that. If there was anything to his suspicions, he'd learn soon enough.
”So,” he said, ”you don't think I'm real?” He took one long step, closing the gap between them, and felt her shudder as his chest brushed hers. He could feel the little tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, hardening through the s.h.i.+rt. He felt an unexpected hardening in his own body. ”What proof do you need, eh?”
She tried to step back, but the temple wall was behind her. ”Youa uha” She thrust out her jaw and glared. ”Let me by. I'm going back to the ruins.”
”If I'm not real, Mac, you should have no difficulty walking through me.”
Suddenly she chuckled. ”Great idea,” she said. With the full force of her slender weight she pushed against him. The a.s.sault drove him back a pace. She stepped to the side, strode to the rim of the temple platform, and slid her foot over the edge.
He caught her arm just as an ancient stone step gave way under her foot. ”Are you so eager to break your neck?” he snapped. ”Or are you more afraid of something else?”
Her eyes were wide and dark and surprisingly large, rimmed with thick lashes he hadn't noticed before. There was a slight trembling to the lids and at the corners of her lips, as if she'd realized how easy it would have been to tumble down that steep incline in her reckless attempt to escape.
Escape him. Was that what she was trying to do? Did she have good reason?
He let her go. She shook her arm to work out the numbness. ”Can I break my neck if I'm already dead? Maybe it wouldn't hurt.”
If this was a game, he couldn't see the point in it. ”Dying hurts,” he said roughly.
The color drained from her skin. She seemed about ready to say something, and then thought better of it.
”No,” she said, as if to herself alone. ”If I go back, I'll understand. The answer is there, in the tunnel.”
The answer? He'd like more than a few answers himself.
He scrutinized the jungle below them. The rain had stopped, but in a little over two hours it would be dark. He was hungry and wanted coffee, but there was no chance of that. Coffee was not one of the few necessities Perry had seen fit to leave him. At least there was shelter in camp. Best to take the girl with him, and then decidea Mac had already made her decision. She had turned around and was climbing backward down the cleared path along the crumbling temple stairway, clutching vines and bushes for handholds, her tongue caught between her teeth. Her feet slipped, and she steadied herself and kept going, never once glancing back up at him.
d.a.m.ned crazy troublemaking female. Suffragist or not, suspect or not, she needed a keepera”a job no sane man would want. He'd never let Caroline get into a position even remotely like this one. Scrambling down the side of a pyramid, no skirts or corsets or furbelows, drenched with sweat, hair bedraggled. Not a hair on Caroline's golden head would ever be disarranged by any hards.h.i.+p as long as he was alive.
Caroline. He had to get back to San Francisco. Her aunt Amelia was no match for Perry's smooth tongue; he'd be spending every available hour at the Gresham house, using his jaded charm on Caroline, trying to make her believe he loved her. And in less than six weeks she'd be eighteen, in full control of her considerable fortunea With a pungent oath Liam retrieved his machete, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Mac down.
She reached the base of the pyramid unscathed and was already striding back the way they'd come by the time he caught up with her. Her sense of direction was surprisingly good for a woman. She found the path he'd cut with no help from him, and marched through the muck and clouds of mosquitoes without moderating her furious pace.
”Don't feel obligated to come with me,” she puffed. ”I can find my way just fine now, thank you.”
The path wasn't wide enough for two. Liam dogged her heels, restraining an impulse to grab her. ”I have no intention of leaving you,” he said acidly. ”There's still the small matter of Perry's photographa””
”Yeah. I'll say.”
Impossible female. Let her exhaust herself, and then she'd be more tractable. He dodged a palm frond that slapped back into his chest and settled into an easy, ground-eating stride far more efficient than her break-neck rush. Soon enough her breath became ragged, but some stubborn spirit kept her moving.
He could almost admire that. Almost.
They reached the original ruins in just under an hour. Maca”the name was too apt to discarda”had half hidden herself behind a cl.u.s.ter of palms. He could see her doubled over, hands on knees, face flushed and hair sodden. That she'd gone on so long was amazing. Liam tipped up his hat and dragged his damp sleeve across his forehead, watching her fumble for her canteen.
She was tired, hot, and thirsty. Good. It would be easier to make her drop her guard.
”What do you propose to do now?” he asked.
She choked on a mouthful of water and glared at him through the lacy curtain of serrated leaves. ”Don't concern yourselfa O'Shea. I've got everything under control. If you'll just return my flashlight nowa”
”Under control,” indeed. ”Nothing's changed, Mac. You're not going off alonea””
”I'm not going off anywhere. I just need to take care of something in the tunnel.” She clenched her fists. ”Please.”
It would be simple enough to keep track of her from the tunnel entrance. She couldn't go far. Something had upset her, and he was determined to learn exactly what it was.
He extended the lantern and she s.n.a.t.c.hed it from his hand. Without another word she squared her shoulders and marched straight into the tunnel as if she were about to confront a man-eating dragon.
For all he knew that was exactly what she antic.i.p.ated. Better a dragon than hima”if even a part of his suspicions proved true.
Liam set down his haversack and pitched the brim of his hat low over his eyes. He made himself comfortable under the shade of the temple wall, checked his pistol and let it rest in his lap. He'd give her a half hour, no more. There was little time to waste indulging her freakish starts or devious gamesa”if that was what they were.