Mexican Nights (22 page)

She was standing in the doorway of the dining room, glancing about for an empty table, when she heard Mike calling her name. She turned in the direction from which the sound was coming. Mike was seated at a table in the corner, his long arm waving to get her attention.

She smiled, hitching her camera bag onto one shoulder along with the strap of her purse, and started for Mike's table. She had already taken several steps before she recognized Mike's table companion, who sat in the dimly lighted corner.

A dark head turned to watch her approach with an expression that could have covered anything from total disinterest to cold fury. It was Derek, wearing a gray suit with white shirt and a gray-and-blue striped tie. He looked as if he'd just stepped from his room, ready for the day, not the least bit wrinkled or disarranged. She was reminded suddenly of the first time she ever saw him—at the airport upon her arrival in Mexico City. He had that same casually disinterested look. But this was not the same. Now she knew much more about the man behind the mask.

Terri's heart slammed against her ribs—like a bird in a cage, she thought with a feeling of pure panic—but it was too late to turn back now. By the time she reached the table, Mike was on his feet pulling out a chair for her.

"Thank you, Mike," she murmured, carefully arranging her camera bag and purse on the floor beside her chair. But she could not stay bent over with her head below the table indefinitely. Much too soon she had to sit up and face Derek.

When she did, Mike said, "Derek just got in. I ran into him in the lobby." He looked from Terri to Derek expectantly.

There was a long pause as Derek flung an arm over the back of his chair and gazed at Terri. "Mike tells me you've been out getting more photographs." There was hardly any intonation in the words—no warmth or interest at all. Terri might as well have been a complete stranger and her activities totally unrelated to Derek.

"Yes—" She found that she felt breathless and paused to inhale slowly in an effort to steady her voice. "I went to that new excavation of Aztec ruins this morning—and then to a little museum."

There was another long pause as Derek lifted his water glass and drank with what seemed deliberate slowness. The waitress came and took their orders, and then silence descended on the table once more. Mike was clearly uncomfortable; he fidgeted in his chair, fiddled with his silverware, and accidentally tipped his water glass, catching it just in time to prevent emptying it on the white table cloth.

Terri felt compelled to say something. "I picked up more film and contact sheets from the photographic shop today. There are some really good shots." She tossed the statement out indiscriminately, not looking directly at either of the men. When she did glance at Derek, he gave a slight nod that could have meant almost anything. Terri picked up her water glass, discovered her hand was shaking, and instantly put it down again.

She glanced back to Derek's hard face. "D-did Seňor Divila return to the city with you?"

"He left on an earlier flight," Derek said.

Terri chewed on her bottom lip, pushing back the other questions that were clamoring to be asked. Why had he left the plantation so soon? Had Margarite decided not to join him there after all? Had the location for their rendezvous been changed to Mexico City? Was Divila's advance arrival in preparation for the reconciliation between Derek and Margarite? She was suddenly aware that Mike was speaking and pulled her thoughts away from unaskable questions.

"Terri hasn't told me much about your trip to the Yucatán, Derek. Did you accomplish a lot?"

Derek's glance flicked over Terri's golden-tanned face and the uncombed tangle of sun-streaked waves framing it. "Not as much as I had hoped."

What did that mean? Terri wondered. That he had not managed to get her into bed? Or that she'd disappointed him as a photographer? His aloof manner made her more and more certain that he was going to tell her he no longer required her professional services. She was so sure of it that she almost wished he'd say it and get it over with. That, at least, would give her a subject for discussion. As it was, she had the unnerving feeling that whatever she said would be the wrong thing.

After their meal arrived, Mike launched into a rundown of the work he had accomplished in Derek's absence. Terri remained gratefully silent and concentrated on eating, which had become something of an ordeal, since her appetite had disappeared with her first sight of Derek. Nor did Mike's occasional furtive glances at her help her feel any more comfortable. In fact, Derek appeared to be the only one of the three who was totally at ease, even though Mike was doing most of the talking.

Terri was wondering how she might slip away from the table unnoticed when Derek shoved his chair back and said, "Excuse me. I want to take my luggage upstairs."

Terri watched his retreating figure with a long exhalation of breath.

"Man!" Mike exclaimed. "Something is stuck in his craw, that's for sure."

"What?" Terri turned from watching Derek's retreat to Mike's intent gaze. "I thought he seemed—relaxed."

Mike shook his head emphatically. "No way. Oh, he wanted to appear calm, but I've been with him too long to be fooled. I've seen that look before."

Terri experienced the stirring uneasiness within her. She ought to be relieved that Derek had left the table without forcing confrontation about her unscheduled departure from the guest house, but Mike's words warned her that there was far more behind that expressionless face than she had thought. She had only been given a reprieve until Derek had her alone. A feeling of impending doom fell over her as she forced herself to bend and pick up her case and purse.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Mike inquired, a note of puzzlement in the tone. "You've hardly touched your food."

Straightening, she got to her feet. "I'm not very hungry. I'm going up to my room."

Mike's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "To face the music?"

"Maybe that, too," she admitted ruefully.

"I'll get the check," Mike offered, as if it was the only thing he could think of at the moment to do for her.

Terri went to her room feeling as if she were walking the last mile. It was too much to hope that Derek wouldn't want an accounting—probably tonight. Unless—she experienced a brief ray of hope—he intended seeing Margarite right away.

She did not have long to wonder. She had only been in her room long enough to wash up and brush her hair when her phone rang and Derek's voice said curtly, "I want to see you in my suite, Terri, as soon as possible."

Sighing, she said, "I'll be right there."

He answered her knock immediately and gestured for her to enter. She glanced about, seeing no one else. As she had feared, they were alone. Derek walked to a side table and poured a small amount of whiskey into a glass. "Will you join me?" he asked, turning to look at her steadily.

"No, thank you," she said, still standing just inside the door.

Carrying the whiskey, Derek sauntered to the center of the room and took a sip of his drink. "Come on in, Terri. I'm not going to thrash you, although I admit I am sorely tempted."

She came forward a few steps with obvious hesitation, and Derek added impatiently, "Sit down."

She perched on the edge of a chair, wishing she could rid herself of the peculiar feeling that she was hovering on the rim of a chasm.

Derek had begun to pace. "I want you to know that I spent a harrowing few hours wondering what had become of you before David, called to tell me you were on a flight back here." He stopped pacing and stood glaring at her.

Terri swallowed convulsively. "I—I didn't mean to worry you."

"Worry me!" He muttered an oath. "Terri, what came over you? Why did you leave like that?"

"I thought our work was finished there," she shrugged with forced casualness. "I felt I could accomplish more here."

His glance was instantly mocking. "Like hell you did! You've done a lot of unpredictable things, but this takes the cake! I intend to know the reason for this latest crazy impulse—if we have to stay here all night."

"If you don't want me to finish the assignment," she said, controlling the tremor in her voice as she rose to her feet and walked across to a window to stare out into the darkness beyond, "why don't you just say it and get it over with."

"We'll get to that later," he replied evenly. "Don't try to switch topics on me. I want to know what prompted your sudden departure from the Yucatán." He paused and the silence seemed to Terri even more ominous than his cold, clipped voice. "Well, Terri, I'm waiting for an answer. You knew I'd follow you, so what did you hope to accomplish by such unreasonably stupid behavior?"

She drew a careful breath. "I—I didn't think you'd return quite so soon." She was still turned away from him, staring out into the night, unable to bring herself to face his contempt.

"What is that supposed to mean?" His hands came down on her shoulders with a sudden unexpectedness that made her jump, and the next instant she found herself facing him. "Answer me!"

"You
know
what it means," she rasped out angrily.

"Do I?" His expression became guarded. "Tell me anyway."

"I don't feel obligated to explain anything to you!" she exclaimed, swinging away from him and heading for the door. But Derek was there before her, barring her way with a look of stubborn determination on his face that sent a shiver through her body, twanging on all her nerves.

"Terri, you won't leave here until you explain what fantastic ideas are floating through that head of yours."

There was command in his voice that she knew would not yield as she faced him for what seemed like endless, breath-stopping moments.

"All right, Derek!" she burst out. "I didn't want to stay around and watch the lovebirds bill and coo!" A brave little smile wavered on her lips. "Is that plain enough for you?"

His eyes narrowed perceptibly. "No, not quite. You will have to spell it out for me. What lovebirds?"

"You have to hear me say it, don't you?" She laughed, on the verge of hysteria. "I wasn't going to be a third wheel when you and Margarite got all cozy in the guest house!"

"My dear Terri," he said with an edge of exasperation as he relaxed his stance and leaned against the door. "I told you Margarite would be staying in the main house."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

His eyes seemed to grow hard with a strange glittery look as he held her gaze. "Yes, I do. I've never lied to you. And if you were thinking clearly, you'd realize that Salvadore wouldn't put his fiancée in the guest house, especially when it's already occupied."

Terri's throat tightened and she swallowed with difficulty. "I—I don't understand." And, indeed, it was a moment before she could assimilate his words and make any sense of them. "Are you saying that Margarite and
Salvadore
—" The atmosphere in the room was heavy with confusing emotions that threatened to overwhelm Terri as she shifted her glance to the pocket of Derek's jacket, where the arrow-sharp points of a neatly folded handkerchief were just showing.

"They are engaged to be married." His voice sounded harsh as it grated into the silence. "They have been for several months."

"Then—" she stammered, still suspicious, "why were you spending time with her before we left for the Yucatán? I know you saw her, Derek—you needn't deny it."

"Yes, I saw her," he retorted, "I went to her home, in fact. And Salvadore was always there."

"But I saw you take her in your arms," Terri persisted, her tone hardening with bitter cynicism.

"What?" He frowned momentarily, and then his face cleared. "Oh, you must be talking about the evening we returned from Teotihuacán. Margarite was waiting to drive me to a restaurant where we met Salvadore. I wasn't quite clear about the location, so she came here to accompany me. As for taking her in my arms…" He smiled briefly. "I had little choice. If you knew Margarite, you would understand. She comes on like that with all men—but she's in
love
with Salvadore. Terri, I know there has been a lot of gossip about me and Margarite, and we did see each other a few times last year. But neither of us ever took it seriously. There could never have been anything important between us—we're too much alike. We would have destroyed each other."

Terri was looking at him, taking this all in, trying to pin down the nagging doubt that remained in her mind. Suddenly she knew what was bothering her. "Salvadore was here all the time! You took me to his plantation knowing that he was here with Margarite. You did lie to me!"

"No," he said fiercely, as his hands came up to grip her shoulders. "I may not have told you everything, but I never lied. I admit that a part of my reason for the trip was so that we could have some time alone together."

"So you could seduce me!" she returned as a last defiant gesture.

"Terri, you are beginning to sound like a broken record," he said as his arms slid down her body and locked about her narrow waist. He stared into her eyes for a moment, then lowered his head, his lips assaulting her mouth with a sudden ferocity that brought tears to her eyes. It had happened so quickly that she was given no time to defend herself. He raised his lips briefly to murmur, "I wanted to seduce you—I admit it. I still do." Then the kiss was resumed and Terri felt her will giving way. One part of her mind exulted in the knowledge that he didn't want Margarite, but another part mocked her for allowing him to use her love so ruthlessly. He wanted to take her to bed. He had been honest with her, at least. He had never pretended to love her or feel any other tender emotion.

His hands had crept beneath her knit shirt, warm and caressing, and the dissolving of her will, the melting of her very being, which she always felt in Derek's arms, was beginning. For just a moment she let herself return his kiss, her arms entwined about his neck, pressing him down to her. She allowed herself to imagine—for a few delightful seconds—what it would be like to be loved by this man.

He lifted his head and his eyes were glazed with desire. "Terri," he whispered huskily, "you are too lovely ever to be jealous of Margarite Lopez. Don't torture me any longer. Let go, and do what we both want." His lips began an even more tantalizing seduction, as they blazed a tingling trail along her cheek and down her neck, while his hands moved sensuously over her back. She closed her eyes, trying to steel herself against her own wanton desires.