“Why didn’t you bring the gold out when you first found it?” Abby asked King.
“I’d only come down here . . . to search. I followed the clues . . . I had put together over . . . the years, but I still wasn’t . . . sure I would find it. Afterward . . . I went back to . . . make arrangements. I needed men . . . equipment . . . needed to deal with the . . . government.”
King squeezed Abby’s hand. “I don’t have much . . . time. But enough, I think . . . to finish what I . . . started. Get me out of this . . . bed, and I’ll show you . . . where to find . . . the Devil’s Gold.”
Abby started shaking her head. The long conversation was taking its toll. “You need to rest. You need to—”
Gage’s big hands settled on her shoulders. “It’s King’s treasure. He deserves to be the one to find it.”
Tears burned behind her eyes. Her chest ached. She turned back to her grandfather, a thick lump swelling in her throat. He had so little time. They had so little time left together.
“Gage is right. You deserve to be there. You deserve to be the one to find the gold.”
King’s head relaxed against the pillow, and a smile spread over his face.
They started making plans. Hector had left to tell Velásquez that the treasure had been claimed by the government. By now, Don Arturo understood the gold was gone and there was no reason for him to pursue them.
By the end of the day, the treasure would have been retrieved by government officials. The room below the kitchen wasn’t an archeological site, merely a place where Mayan plunder had been stored. The artifacts would be taken someplace safe where they could be studied.
Which meant tomorrow King could return to the hacienda. But a lot had changed since he had been there. There was a chance he wouldn’t be able to find the gold again or that someone else had been there after he’d left and now it was gone.
Still, Abby couldn’t tamp down her excitement. No way would she be able to sleep.
Pumped full of adrenaline, she returned to the room, went to Gage, slid her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down to hers for a kiss. She pressed soft kisses to the corners of his mouth, the base of his throat, then kissed his lips again. Arousal pressed against the fly of his cargo pants.
Abby smiled and nipped his bottom lip. “Help me get some sleep?”
Gage kissed her long and deep. “My pleasure.” It was warm in the room, but the storm had cooled the outside temperature a little, and the ceiling fan did the rest.
Abby stripped off her clothes and took down her hair, then helped Gage undress, kissing him all the while. The tiny shower wasn’t big enough for both of them, so they took turns. It felt good to be clean again as she led him over to the bed. Gage liked to be in charge, but when he tried to take control, she shook her head.
“Not tonight. Tonight you’re mine.”
His nostrils flared as she nudged him onto the mattress and followed him down. They kissed for a while. No one could kiss like Gage, his lips soft, melding with hers, sinking in, coaxing and teasing, then taking command. She gave herself up to the heady male taste of him as the kiss went deeper, hotter, wetter.
She was on fire by the time she began to move down his beautiful body, her lips skimming over his muscular pecs, his six-pack abs, and flat belly, ringing his navel with her tongue.
Gage groaned as she went lower, wrapping her hands around him, testing the hardness, the feel of smooth skin over steel. Her mouth followed, giving him pleasure, loving the masculine feel of him, the power it gave her.
His fingers slid into her hair, enjoying her ministrations, then pulling her away, dragging her mouth back to his for a kiss.
“I want to be inside you,” he said thickly, lifting her easily and setting her astride him. “You still want to be in charge?” The husky timbre of his voice sent fresh need sliding through her.
“Yes . . .” she breathed, finding it hard to force out the word. She was hot, alive with wanting. Lifting herself, she eased down on him, took more of him, then moved to take even more.
Gage hissed out a breath.
Abby leaned over and braced her hands on his shoulders, her long hair sweeping down, cocooning them in their own private world. Her body pulsed as she started to move, rising and sinking, building the heat. The muscles across Gage’s flat stomach tightened as he fought for control, and Abby slowed, determined to draw out the pleasure.
Gage just shook his head. “My turn,” he said. Big hands gripped her hips to hold her in place, and he thrust upward. Out and then in, driving her up until she arched her back, taking him deeper, aching for release.
“Gage . . .” she pleaded.
“You want more?”
“Yes . . . please, Gage . . .”
His hold tightened, and he gave her what she wanted, took her faster, deeper, harder. Sounds came from her throat she didn’t recognize, pleas for more along with his name. Then her body tightened, and she exploded in pleasure, the heat burning through her, the flood of sweetness, the black infinity of bliss.
Gage drove her up again, then followed, his own climax fierce.
Abby slumped onto his muscled chest, her body and mind still filled with him. “I love you,” she thought. “I love you so much.”
Beneath her, she felt Gage stiffen. Dear God, she hadn’t said the words aloud, had she? But the remote way his hand smoothed over her hair said that she had.
Gage set her aside and moved off the bed, went into the bathroom, and returned, handed her a warm damp cloth. He settled himself on the bed beside her and nestled her against his side, but he didn’t say a word.
“I didn’t mean to say it. It just . . . it just popped out.”
“Go to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Abby swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her grandfather was dying. Soon her adventure with Gage would be over and he would leave. Abby would be alone again—the way she always was.
Her heart felt shredded, but there was nothing she could do. Tears burned, but no way was she letting him see. She prayed tomorrow they would find the gold and then they could go home.
Once she got back, she would find a way to get over Gage.
She thought of Clay Reynolds. Clay was interested in her as a woman, not just a partner who shared his bed.
Her throat ached along with her heart. She had no interest in Clay. She was in love with Gage Logan. He was the right man for her. She was the right woman for him. But there was no way to make him see.
Abby closed her eyes. Tears leaked from beneath her lashes. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fall asleep.
* * *
Gage couldn’t sleep. His mind was too full of Abby. He’d known she cared about him. More than cared. But love? The word wasn’t in his vocabulary.
His mind went to Cassandra. She’d thought she was in love with him. He’d told her it would never work. They were just too different.
But what about Abby?
They fit together. He couldn’t deny it. For chrissake, the woman had saved his life! She was brave and strong and determined.
And he was crazy about her.
It didn’t matter. After what had happened to Cassie, he couldn’t risk that kind of involvement again. What if it didn’t work out between them? He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her the way he’d hurt Cassandra. In the end, Cassie’s feelings for him had killed her.