Mexican Nights (14 page)

His hands were beneath her tank top now, warm and enticing, and he whispered her name caressingly as he began to kiss her neck and the soft curve of her breast that was exposed by the low-necked top.

Terri closed her eyes, trying to hold herself rigid, frantically grasping for the strength to stop the bittersweet plunder of this man.

"Terri… sweet, beautiful, Terri…"

She turned her head from side to side slowly, denying her own clamoring senses. He had been gone for hours, had returned to find her sleeping and without defense, and he had taken full advantage of the situation. Under all that talk about understanding the Mayas, was this the real reason why he had brought her here?

Her memory tortured her by providing a vivid image of the Mexican actress being caught up in Derek's arms. Terri would never forget that moment when she had seen the two of them together like that. And it was that memory that gave her the strength, at last, to pull away from him.

"No—Derek, you can't—no!"

He looked down at her, the dark passion-filled eyes clouding, hardening, piercing her heart. "My God, Terri, what are you made of? How can you lead me on like that—and then say no?"

She pulled her legs up, hugging herself against the ice in his eyes. "No, that's not fair, Derek. I—I didn't lead you on."

He sat up abruptly, his muscles tensing. "What do you call it, then! What were you doing in there on the couch? Was that all an act?"

"No—" Her voice was only a whisper. "I was asleep. You took me by surprise. Before I fell asleep I heard noises. I was frightened. Oh, I wanted you to kiss me, I won't deny it—"

"You
can't
deny it!" He ran shaking hands through his thick hair. "You used every trick in the book. You flaunted yourself! And right now… What are you trying to prove, Terri?"

Finally, she gathered enough courage to meet his searching look and was sorry that she had, for this was a Derek she hardly recognized.

"I—I'll not be used, Derek! You think you can make love to a woman and then throw her away when you tire of her." Her eyes were suddenly misty with tears, and the aching in her throat was so painful that she almost cried out. "Well, not me!"

He got to his feet slowly and, after one cold glance at her, strode across the room. At the door he turned. "I'm sick of your games, Terri. I'm not interested in a vacillating virgin who doesn't know her own mind. I won't touch you again—not until you beg me to make love to you. When you do that, Terri, if I'm so inclined at the moment, I might accommodate you. But don't count on it!" He paused, then went on vehemently, "We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You'd better get some rest. You'll need it!"

He slammed the door shut behind him, and Terri lay huddled on her bed for a long time before she found the strength to get into her nightgown and under the sheet.

After a while, she heard the sound of Derek's portable typewriter. The staccato rhythm of the typewriter keys continued even after she'd fallen asleep.

Derek was cool and businesslike all morning. And, as he drove them to the archaeological zone at Chichén Itzá, he was treating her as he might have treated one of his students in his teaching days. She knew that this was a preview of what she could expect for the rest of the day. She would not have been very surprised if Derek had reverted to calling her Miss Thompson! Evidently he had decided not to go
that
far. But, if that was the way he wanted to act, so be it. She could be as businesslike as he!

They were entering the archaeological zone now, and Terri was awed by the number and variety of excavated structures on all sides. They parked the car and walked toward the largest, most imposing structure in sight. Terri was glad that she had decided to wear shorts and halter. Glancing about, she realized that it would probably take all day to get the photographs Derek wanted, and already the day was stifling.

The structure they were approaching was a four-sided pyramid, topped by a platform that supported a small square building. They stopped some distance away so that Terri could take pictures.

"This is called The Castle," Derek told her as she made certain her camera was on the correct settings. "Of course, no one knows what the original purposes of these buildings were. The names were given to them by the Spaniards or the archaeologists who unearthed them."

"What's that on top?" Terri asked as she looked into the viewfinder.

"A Mayan vaulted temple dedicated to the worship of Kukulcán, the Plumed Serpent. There are two Toltec serpent pillars inside it."

She made a face. "Which you'll want pictures of, no doubt. So we're going all the way to the top."

"Naturally," Derek retorted, ignoring her grimace.

She backed away and took another shot, then said doubtfully, "Those stairs look awfully steep. I wonder how many there are."

"Ninety-one steps on each of the four sides," said Derek matter-of-factly. "That's three hundred sixty-four in all, which, added to the upper platform, makes the three hundred sixty-five days of the year."

"Very interesting," Terri said dispiritedly as they started climbing.

At the top Terri got several shots of the serpent pillars, then sat down in a corner of the small square temple to rest. She refused to go another step until she'd cooled off! She felt as if her face was on fire. It was maddening that Derek was breathing only slightly harder than normally. Honestly, was he human or some cleverly devised machine?

She rested her head against the stone wall behind her, closing her eyes, and heard Derek sitting down beside her. She opened her eyes, after a moment, and stole a look at him. He was gazing out through the temple doorway, seemingly lost in thought. Terri's glance slid over his finely chiseled profile, across his broad shoulders in the thin cotton shirt, and along one muscular arm. She stared at the brown skin until her mind transported her back to the guest house, back to last night—to Derek bending over the couch where she lay sleeping, waking her up so delightfully, kissing her until every nerve in her body quivered in response, picking her up in his strong arms—
this
arm that was so close that it almost touched her body—carrying her into the bedroom, murmuring her name in such desire-laden syllables, that the memory of it could still set her blood singing. Had this cool, aloof man beside her really done all those things? Had
she
actually responded with the abandon that she remembered?

What if she hadn't stopped him when she did? Would he be treating her with such casual disdain this morning? Or would he be touching her, smiling in that heart-melting way he had, making outrageously suggestive remarks?

She settled more comfortably against the stone wall. She could almost wish that she hadn't stopped Derek last night. Almost. Just for a moment she let her imagination toy with the idea of "playing house" with Derek in the way that he'd been hinting at. There was no denying that these few days could be delightful, wonderful—something to remember always. But so short—so fleeting. It would be much worse to know him like that and then lose him to Margarite Lopez. Derek Storm would not be an easy man to forget.

She told herself that she had done the right thing in pulling away last night. Even if Derek
had
accused her of leading him on. Terri's smile deepened slightly. Imagine Terri Thompson, a naive, inexperienced twenty-one-year-old woman, being capable of "leading on" a man of the world like Derek Storm. It was quite ludicrous, when you thought about it.

Unless it had been an unconscious act on her part. Her smile disappeared. That was possible—just barely possible. Hadn't she been made aware more than ever last night of a deeply buried passion in herself? Perhaps that is what Derek had seen in her; it might explain his repeated efforts to take her to bed.

It was really quite flattering, if she cared to look at it that way, to realize that Derek Storm, a connoisseur of beautiful women, desired her. She had certainly never stirred any other man to quite such ardency before. Unless you counted Jack Ledbetter, but he had been slightly drunk at the time. So maybe Derek did see something in her that other men had missed.

He certainly had managed to plumb the depths of her own emotions a few times as no other man had ever done. But it was all a well-practiced art with him. Because she said no to him, she represented a challenge to his inflated masculine ego. If she ever let him know how close she had been to giving in last night, she would be lost. But now that she knew the effect he could have on her, maybe she could protect herself better in the future. She remembered how angry he had been when he left her last night. He would not touch her until she begged him, he had said. Oh, would he not? Well, fine! Great! That's exactly how she wanted it.

Beside her, Derek stirred and stood. "Time to go."

Terri opened her eyes and peered up at him, bridling at his commanding tone.

"Come on—up!" He gestured impatiently for her to get to her feet. "I told you we had a full day of work ahead of us."

Terri stood, thinking how hateful this man could be. Had she actually welcomed his advances last night? She must have been too muddled by sleep to be in her right mind!

"I'm ready." Terri forced a smile. "I didn't want to push you too hard."

Derek's lips twisted sardonically. "That is a distinct possibility, Terri—but not in climbing pyramids. It's your tongue that will get you into trouble, if you don't take care. If you want to exchange insults, I will oblige you. But don't run for cover when the going gets rough. You have a tendency to do that, you know."

For a second she stared up at him, trying to control her sharp intake of breath as she realized he was
trying
to be cruel, to hurt her. Anger welled in her and became stronger as she saw the cold look in his eyes.

"Damn you, Derek!" She whirled and ran from the temple, descending the steep steps as fast as she dared. Behind her, she heard Derek's harsh laugh and, grabbing her camera to keep it from bouncing about on its strap, she hurried her descent.

For the rest of the morning Terri followed Derek from structure to structure, taking rolls of pictures and listening to his succinct explanations that, she had to admit, were much better than those in any of the books she had read. The Mayans, she learned, while they had a highly developed knowledge of architectural principles, were limited because they never discovered how to make the arch, so their rooms were always long and narrow and dark. Yet they decorated the facades of their structures with beautifully intricate carvings, and the rain god with his projecting curling nose decorated many building corners. Also, as Derek pointed out, all of their buildings were oriented by astral observations.

To Terri the most fascinating structure of all was the observatory, a high circular tower sitting atop a tier of platforms. Inside, Derek showed her how the slits and holes in the observatory wall were used to align the celestial bodies for purposes of computation.

"No one in the world," Derek told her, "has ever calculated the rotational motions of the earth with such exactness as the Mayas. The Toltecs, Aztecs, and other Indian races adapted the Mayan calendar in one form or another."