Gage laughed and finally let her go. His humor slowly faded. When he looked at her again, a slow-burning anger darkened his features. “This is exactly the reason I didn’t want you coming down here. God knows what would have happened if I’d gotten here a few minutes later.”
Abby’s own temper surfaced. “Well, you didn’t, and I’m okay. We knew something like this could happen. We’ll just have to be more careful.”
Gage’s jaw tightened. “You can count on that,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE TWO-HOUR FLIGHT TO MÉRIDA GOT THEM THERE AT FIVE P.M. Mateo was waiting for them in front of the terminal in an olive drab Humvee that looked like something out of a war zone.
Gage walked over and shook his friend’s hand, then gripped his shoulder. “Good to see you, my friend.”
“You, too, amigo.” Strands of Mateo’s black hair, loose from the rawhide thong at the back of his neck, blew across his face. He smiled warmly at Abby. “Welcome to Meh-he-co,” he said, using the soft Spanish pronunciation as he reached over to grab the handle of her carry-on.
Abby went up on her toes and kissed his lean cheek. “It’s good to see you again, Mateo. Thank you so much for coming.”
He just smiled and returned his attention to Gage. “Everything is set. Your brother waits at the hacienda.”
Gage nodded. “Good. We’ve already had some trouble.” He tried not to think what might have happened to Abby if he hadn’t gone straight back to the hotel. Clearly, their pursuers knew about the treasure and believed she had the information they needed to find it.
Truth was, she did. Which put her in grave danger. Abby and everyone else involved in the search. Until the gold was found and brought out—or they gave up and left Mexico—they needed to be on constant alert.
“Two men posing as waiters came into the room while I was away from the hotel,” Gage explained as he and Mateo loaded the luggage into the back of the Hummer. “They were after Abby.” Turning, he caught her chin and moved her face to display the dark bruise on her jaw.
Mateo frowned.
“I got back in time, or they would have succeeded,” Gage said. “I’m damned glad Edge is here.”
“Sí, your brother arrived well-prepared.”
After his years in Special Forces, Edge never did anything without being prepared. There was no way to tell just how much opposition they would be facing before this was over. Or how far their pursuers would be willing to go.
They climbed into the Hummer. With Mateo at the wheel, they left the airport and took Mexico/261 to Mexico/180E for the hour-long drive out of Mérida, a city with one of Mexico’s largest populations, half of which was of Mayan descent.
Gage had chosen to stay at the historic Hacienda San José, an upscale boutique hotel, because it had been one of the oldest sisal plantations in the Yucatán and was located not far from the ruins. There were hundreds of haciendas in Mexico, some still beautifully maintained, others falling into disrepair or almost totally gone.
Though the Hacienda San José had been completely remodeled, its historical aspects hadn’t been altered. Gage figured it would give them some sense of what the original Peralta plantation might have looked like before it descended into ruins.
At the last minute, he’d had Maggie extend the reservation, giving any interested party the illusion that the hacienda was their headquarters for the search.
Instead, they would be taking rooms in what barely passed for lodgings about an hour’s drive away, in the tiny town of Alux’ob, the Mayan name for the spirits the locals believed inhabited the area—small invisible creatures who supposedly whistled to scare off predators or thieves.
Fitting, Gage thought, considering what they had come to retrieve.
The Hummer turned off the main highway onto a narrow road lined with lush green tropical vegetation. Vines covered stone archways, and palm trees sprouted alongside the road.
The vehicle continued to the hotel, and Mateo pulled to a stop in front. Gage helped Abby down from the Hummer, his insides tightening as his gaze snagged on the spreading dark spot on her jaw.
As much as he’d wanted to call the police, there was no way he could. Too many people knew about the expedition as it was.
Abby’s attackers were still on the loose, but at least he’d managed to land a few solid punches, one that had broken the bigger man’s nose. He felt a sweep of satisfaction at the memory of Abby crashing a vase over the mustached waiter’s head, dispensing some small measure of justice.
Mateo took Abby’s carry-on, and they walked into a spacious open-air lobby with lofty wooden ceilings and bright-painted walls: red, blue, and yellow against crisp white. A polished red-tile floor stretched down the halls.
Unfortunately, they had traded the comfortable 80-degree weather of Mexico City for the moist 95-degree heat of the Yucatán. Inside the hotel, air conditioning cooled much of the interior, and ceiling fans whirred overhead.
With only fifteen rooms and most of the occupants out sightseeing in the area, there weren’t many people about, which suited Gage just fine. A dark-skinned desk clerk with the large curved beak depicted in many Mayan drawings handed over two keys to the suite Maggie had reserved.
“Your room has a beautiful view of the garden, Señor Logan. I hope you and your lady enjoy it.”
“I’m sure we will.” Gage handed a key to Abby, who was taking in the hand-carved furniture, open archways, and lush greenery that freshened the interior.
Gage declined the clerk’s guidance to the room, set a hand at Abby’s waist, and urged her down the hall in the direction the man pointed. Halfway there, he spotted his brother approaching.
“Glad you got here safely.” Edge gripped his shoulder and leaned in, then bent and kissed Abby’s cheek. He frowned at the bruise on her jaw. “I got your text. You weren’t kidding when you said you had some trouble at the hotel. You okay, Abby?”
“I’m all right. Glad Gage showed up when he did.” She flicked him a glance that reminded him she was here to stay and not going home until this was over. Gage almost smiled. He had to admit she was as determined as he was.
“I hope you got in a few good punches,” his brother said.
Gage grunted, his mind returning to the clash at the hotel. “Not enough. Abby cracked one of the bastards over the head with a ceramic vase. He’ll have a headache for a while.” She was feisty, all right, he thought. Especially in bed. Gage’s groin tightened.
Edge smiled at Abby and winked, and Gage felt a shot of irritation. With his glossy, slightly curly black hair, longer since his departure from the military, blue eyes, and high cheekbones, Edge had always attracted women. Fortunately for him, he had never pursued a female who belonged to Gage.
“When did you check in?” Gage asked him.
“Been in the area a while. Checked in here this afternoon.” Edge had been doing preliminary reconnaissance, per their plan. Gage had no idea how long Mateo had been in the Yucatán—long enough, undoubtedly, to know his way around. His ability to mix with the locals was one of the things that made him so valuable.
Gage grabbed the handle of his carry-on. “Why don’t we head down to my suite? We can order some food and talk things over while Abby and I settle in.”