Catch Me If You Can (32 page)

“Where are they? Why haven’t I ever seen them?”

“You’d have to know where to look. They’re all but buried beneath the overgrowth.”

“The map led you to them?”

He nodded. “Hand-drawn, exquisite. A find in and of its own right, really. The text it was in was well over a hundred years old itself.”

She took a moment to try and digest all of this. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

He smiled easily. “I was going to mention finding the book, ask if you knew anything about it. We seem to get sidetracked. A lot.”

She grinned, and her body hummed just at the reminder. “But your specialty is Mayan history. If you really think it’s worth pursuing, how can you make it happen?”

“That’s why I went into the main house, to look for additional documentation.”

“The books you brought up with you earlier.” Her eyes widened. “So you found more information on it?”

“Some. Maybe not enough, but I only had a few hours of searching and you have a lot of books in that place. I wanted to be more sure before I told you, but—” He smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t stand it. I had to share the news with you.”

Then the pieces fell into place. And her heart stuttered. “So, you’re staying then because of the potential dig?”

He squeezed her hands, tugged her close, his gaze so intent on hers, she couldn’t look away. “I know I’m doing the right thing, by pursuing a career here. This find was just further proof, but I already knew. I began
here, and I should have stayed here.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her. And it was both tender and filled with such promise. “But then if I had, I wouldn’t have met you. Things happen as they do for a reason. Something I’m more convinced of now more than ever. I’m staying because I belong here, Maura. Because I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“What would you have done if you hadn’t discovered them?” She believed what he was telling her—it was hard not to when he looked at her with his whole heart in his eyes—but it had to be asked.

“There are digs on this continent, too, you know,” he said, his smile teasing and confident. But then the amusement fled, and she could see that he was intent on making her understand, that it was important to him that she believe this. “But I did find the relics. And I truly believe I’m on to something. It won’t be a huge excavation, and it may only last a couple of years, but—”

“Years?”

He nodded. “It won’t be a huge boon to the local economy, but it will bring something to the castle coffers, and the village, too. The crew will probably want to lease the crofts closest to the woods, to set up quarters and an analysis center. And depending on the number of students that are brought on, we might even consider opening up part of the main house to them.”

She didn’t know where it came from, but the laugh just rolled out of her. It was one of shock really. “My God, you’ve really thought this all through, haven’t you?”

“I can’t help it,” he said, cute all over again when he shrugged. “It’s what I do. We don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to.”

But she could tell from the look on his face that it would nigh kill him if she said no. And, to be honest, now that she’d had all of ten minutes to think on it, she
had to admit it was rather an exciting proposition. “It sounds wonderful, really, it’s just that it’s all so sudden.”

“It will take a few months minimum before I know if I can put the funding together. It will be spring by then, which is the earliest they could start anyway.” He squeezed her hands. “I want to contribute here. I want to take some of the burden from you. You shouldn’t have to bear that weight alone. I don’t know what we’ll do when all is said and done on the excavation, but we have years to work on that.”

“Years,” she said again, only this time there was a tremor of trepidation, as it truly began to sink in. Years. With this man. At her side. In her bed. She should have laughed like a loon at the very idea of agreeing. Maura Sinclair, the woman who couldn’t keep a relationship going much past a month, contemplating jumping into a full-time living arrangement with a man. For years.

And yet the hot thrill that very notion sent through her was so powerful and so strong it took her breath away.

His hold on her gentled then, and he pulled their joined hands up between them and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I’m overwhelming you.”

“You are,” she said, then did laugh in disbelief. “But if my heart’s to be any judge, it’s the best kind of overwhelmed to be.”

His eyes glittered with a fierce joy. “I don’t need any promise from you,” he said, “other than you’ll give this—give me—a try.”

From somewhere, her old self surfaced, but it was almost a relief to know she was still in there. “I believe I’ve tried you out every way a woman possibly can.”

He cocked his head, his lips curving in that way he had that made her toes curl. “So you have no more use for me then?”

She grinned, even as her bottom lip trembled. “Oh,
I’ve a use or two for ye.
”

And she felt him tremble. “Maura—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “This—all of
this—is so unexpected.
I don’t know what to say.” Her
smile, at first so tremulous, grew wider, and something set
tl
ed inside her as she took that leap of faith. “But
then you were so unexpected, and look how well that’s
turning out.”

His smile was slow, and filled with such emotion, it made her throat tight. “So
…
that’s a yes?”

“Aye.” Then she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It only took three hundred years, but the Morgan finally came back to claim what was his. And you had the right of it. All this time lost, and all they had to do was be willing to try.” She kissed him. “I can’t believe we were the first ones to finally figure that out. But lucky for me, we were.” Grinning, she slid from his arms. “Now come on, let’s go look at our stone circle.”

Chapter 21

T
ag felt like he’d just had the entire world handed to him. And maybe, just maybe, he had. All he knew was that the most important part of it was standing right in front of him. “Maura—”

“Uh uh,” she said, dancing out of his reach. “Because the way you’re looking at me right now, we’ll be back in the tower or naked right here on the ground.” She took off on an easy run, shouting over her shoulder. “Last one to the woods has to be bath slave later.”

He grinned. “Well, when you put it like that.” And he took off at a dead run.

She was faster than she looked. And crafty, dodging and weaving. He scooped her off the ground about fifty yards from the edge of the woods, making her whoop with laughter as he spun her around. “Come on,” he said, breathless and happier than he could ever remember being.

“This way.” Most discoveries were shared with the dig crew, but this was his first time sharing this with someone he cared about. It was silly, but he was as nervous about it as he was excited.

She hopped in front of him and touched the first
tree they came to, then smiled devilishly back at him. “Anything you say. Bath slave boy.”

His grin spread. “We’ll see who the real loser of this little contest is later.”

Her eyes darkened, just at the suggestion, and the
next thing he knew, he had her up against the closest tree, his mouth on hers. Relief, joy, excitement, anticipation all pounded through him and he couldn’t go another moment without showing her, touching her, telling her. His hands were in her hair. Hers were fisted in his jacket. And they suddenly couldn’t get enough of each other.

Lifting his head, his eyes blazed into hers. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?” he said, his breath coming in short gasps. “Why do I know I will never have enough of you?”

“You’ve had me for centuries,” she said, her smile sure and knowing. “And if that wasn’t enough, then no, it never will be.”

There was a story there, in her eyes. And he would hear it. But
first
…
“This way,” he told her, taking her hand, leading her into the woods, around trees that had stood here for centuries. Deeper into the forest they went, and he helped her over fallen trunks and through heavier undergrowth.

“How on earth do you know where you’re going?” she asked.

“You don’t forget something like this.” A few minutes later, they climbed down a short, rocky embankment, and stopped in front of a mound of overgrowth. “There,” he said, more breathless with anticipation than exertion. “See that tree?” He pointed to a massive trunk about fifteen yards away.

“The oak?” she said, pushing her hair from her face.

“The Piets were reputed to be very superstitious about trees. Especially oak trees.”

“And yo
u
think they actually worshipped under that one?”

He nodded, “I know they did. The altar stone is there. They believed old, wise spirits resided in oak trees. They made sacrifices to them on altars built beneath them.” He turned her around, then reached out to the overgrown mound, and very, very carefully, pushed away a small section of the leaf and shrub covering. “And then there is this.”

Maura leaned forward, peering through the gloom of the forest, to see what he was so carefully exposing. “All
I
see is what looks
like rock.” She straightened. “
This area isn’t much more than a tumble of rocks. Why do you think this is a standing stone?”

He could have shown her the markings, but it took a trained eye to see past what looked like nothing more than weather marks. There was a more direct way to prove his find to her. He let the tangle of leaves and barbs shift back to cover the spot, then turned her and pointed to similar mounds dotted amongst the trees. “Look. See? There,” he pointed. “And there, and there.”

She gasped.

The circle wasn’t that wide, and no one was likely to notice the pattern of the mounds, as the whole area was rocky strewn and overgrown. But once you noted the pattern, it was impossible not to see it for what it was.

“My God. To think I’ve walked through here so many times.” She looked at him. “How did you ever find this?”

He pulled a folded piece of yellow paper from his jacket pocket.
“
This map.”

She looked at the series of lines, squiggles and compass notations, then g
lanced up at him in disbelief. “
You took this? And found this?” She swept an arm out before her.

He pulled her back against him, circling his arms
around her waist, so they both stared out at the mounds
before them. “What can I say? I’m good with directions.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re good at a whole lot of things.”

He tucked her closer
to his body. “You want to race
me, double or nothing, ba
ck to the tower and test that
theory out?”

She covered his hands with her own. He’d expected
some smart remark, but instead she sighed and leaned
back against him. “This is really something, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down at he
r
, for once in his life,
having something to look forward to, as well as back. “Yes, it is.”

“There’s an old man, in the village,” she said, serious and intent. He could hear the wheels all but turning now and his grin was fierce with satisfaction. She understood. This would mean something to her.

“His name is Kester,” she went on. “He’s something of the village historian. If anyone knows anything of this, it would be him. Maybe we should pop down, have lunch, chat him up.”

His arms tightened around her. “
Thank you,” he whispered against her hair, hoping she understood the depths of his gratitude. “For sharing this with me. For sharing all of this with me. And I’d very much like to meet this Kester.” He kissed the side of her neck.
“
Tomorrow.” When she arched her neck around to give him a surprised look, he smiled. “I don’t want to share you quite yet.” His smile grew. “In fact, I think someone has a bath promised to them.”

“And a slave to go with it, if I’m no’ mistaken.” She turned in his arms, and the desire in her eyes was banked with a quiet intensity. “I want to make another deal with you.”

“Does it involve racing?” he asked, smiling. “Because
I’m afraid I’m somewhat hampered at the moment.” She was tight up against him enough to know what he meant.

Her lips curved. “No racing. Ye’ve lost that one fair and square, there’ll be no getting it back.”

“Okay then, what’s the deal?”

She cupped his cheek, pushed his hair from his face. “You tell me everything you know about these people, this place. I want to understand the power and pull of it, as you do.” She searched his eyes. “And I’ll tell you tales of the Morgans and Sinclairs that came after them. Ramsays, too.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “That’s a deal,” he said, looking back in her eyes, moved beyond words.

She pulled his mouth down to hers, and the kiss she gave him was a promise. A promise to try. And just as he knew they were standing in the middle of something very special, here in the north woods of Rallantrae, something possibly historic. He knew he was standing in the circle of something even more powerful as long as her arms were around him.

“Now,” she said, when she finally lifted her head, her eyes lit with desire and need, “I believe I’d like that bath now.”

“Does the slave get to be in the bath with you?” he asked.

She smiled then. “Only if he’s very, very good.”

He let his hands drift down between them, let his thumbs trace over the nipples he knew were hard beneath her coat Still, her breath stuttered, and her throat worked as she swallowed. Hard. Set
tl
ing his hands on her hips, he tugged her closer, then slid his palms around to cup her tight against him. “Why don’t I let you be the judge of that?”

“Yes,”
she managed. “Why don’t you.”