Beautiful Sacrifice

the best medicine for me.”
    Ali stood on tiptoe and whispered something in Jase’s ear. His smile made him look years younger. His hand stroked her rear. She swatted at him and blushed.
    “Why don’t we go to bed so these nice people can go home?” Hunter asked Lina dryly.
    With a smile and a wave, Jase and Ali headed for the apartment door. The door shut behind them.
    “They’re good people,” Lina said, snuggling closer to Hunter.
    He rumbled agreement as his hand went to the first button of her blouse. Her breath broke. The second button gave way. She started to turn toward him, but he held her in place.
    “Let me just touch you,” he said. “I still see you laid out on that damned leering altar.”
    “And I still see you falling unconscious to the floor at my cousin’s feet.”
    “Not my best moment.”
    The catch of her bra came undone. His fingers savored the warm, soft flesh they had revealed.
    “My beautiful Amazon,” Hunter breathed, stroking her.
    Her breath came out on a sigh. “That’s Brazil, not the Yucatan.”
    He laughed softly and licked her neck where it curved into her shoulder. “Now, tell me what’s been going on behind those gorgeous eyes of yours.”
    “Hmmm?”
    “I can feel you thinking.”
    “That’s not my brain you’re feeling,” she said as he teased one nipple.
    “I know. What I don’t know is what you’re thinking.”
    She smoothed her cheek against his chest. “I love you.”
    He pinched her nipple delicately. “And I love you, but I can’t read your mind. You’ve been chewing on something ever since we crawled out of that damned cenote. It’s not grief or fear, yet half the time your mind is somewhere else. Is it the lost artifacts?”
    She arched into his touch. “You’re a mind reader.”
    “Tell me anyway.”
    “I just feel that the artifacts didn’t end up in the cenote. And I’m worried that’s crazy, like Philip.”
    He lifted one breast and bit her neck gently. “You don’t feel crazy to me. You feel all woman.”
    “Hunter…”
    “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You won’t be going off any deep end without me right there with you.”
    “But…”
    Both of his hands slid beneath her breasts, supporting and caressing them at the same time.
    “I mean it,” he said. “You’re stuck with me. What do you think—feel—happened to the artifacts?”
    At the moment all Lina thought or felt was Hunter’s hands, his breath, his body hot and hard wherever she touched him. She held her hands against his, stilling him, while she caught her breath and unscrambled her brains.
    “You said that the villagers just broke over Philip and Carlos like a tidal wave, and when everyone retreated, there was nothing left but the altar.”
    “Mmmm,” Hunter said, tasting her neck.
    “I think in all the confusion, some of the worshippers took the codex, the god bundle, the mask, all of it, and disappeared back into the jungle. I think they put the sacred artifacts in a very safe place and went back to their usual lives. They’ll staylike that, apparently normal, working and waiting until their belief burns out or the Maya renaissance comes.”
    Hunter’s body went still, then one hand slipped away from her. He found new flesh to touch, to caress. Her breath came in with a small whimper of pleasure and need.
    “You want to find the artifacts,” he said.
    “Yes.”
    “Will it be safe?”
    “The villagers could have killed me at any time while we climbed out of the cenote and walked back to the compound,” she said simply. “We were watched every step of the way.”
    “I know.” The memory still could make his skin crawl.
    “Philip was right about the cult of Kawa’il. It existed. It exists now. There is a sixth codex. I can’t just walk away from that.”
    “I didn’t think you would.” Hunter’s voice was neutral.
    “After we’re married—”
    He turned her swiftly and kissed her like a man desperate for warmth.
    “What?” she asked when she could talk again. “You asked me to marry you when we were climbing out of the cenote and I said yes.”
    “All I heard was a cussword when you stubbed your toe.”
    “Which time?”
    He smiled.
    “Just for the record,” she said, “yes”—she kissed his chin—“and yes”—she nipped the corner of his mouth—“and yes”—she licked his lips—“and—”
    Whatever she was going to say was lost in a long, sensual tangle of tongues and breath and need.
    Finally he lifted his