Beautiful Sacrifice

time for me to meet her family.”
    Lina had a good poker face, too. She’d been wearing it since she’d bent down to greet her mother. Deliberately, Lina rubbed her cheek against Hunter’s arm in a lover’s caress.
    Celia watched with eyes that missed nothing. She didn’t like what she was seeing, but she was too shrewd to leap into uncharted territory.
    “But of course,” Celia murmured. “Lina’s little friends are always eager to meet her family.”
    Translation: Men saw Lina as a way to marry well.
    “She is her mother’s daughter,” Hunter said. “I imagine that your marriage to Dr. Philip Taylor was quite a surprise to your family.” Then he smiled.
    It wasn’t his warm and fuzzy smile. It was a statement that if Celia wanted open warfare, he’d deliver it. Philip might have come from an old Boston family, but they were hardly aristocrats. Yet Celia had married him despite his lack of great money and noble pedigree.
    Celia blinked and reassessed Hunter. He might be a fortune hunter, but he wasn’t weak or stupid. Which was truly unfortunate. Celia’s grandmother had made no secret of her desire for Lina to marry a Mexican man of good family.
    Lina spoke casually, as though she was unaware of the dangerous tides shifting beneath the conversation. “I thought it would be a lovely birthday present for Abuelita. I know she worries that I don’t like men.”
    Hunter almost choked. He gave Lina a fast sideways look. She responded with a smile that announced just how much she liked a particular man: Hunter Johnston.
    Lina was enjoying this entirely too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to spoil her fun. He had a feeling that she was well and truly fed up with being shoved at men and reminded it was her duty to have children.
    “You look exhausted, dearest,” Celia said, tugging Lina toward the house. “Mr. Johnston will bring your luggage while you greet—”
    “Hunter isn’t my lackey,” Lina cut in. “Is the second-floor guest room across from me prepared?”
    “No. All the rooms in the house are assigned.”
    That many guests for Abuelita’s intimate family party? Lina thought sarcastically. But all she said was “Then one of the casitas will do.”
    Celia stopped. “Abuelita and Carlos won’t tolerate you sleeping in the same room as your…guest.”
    “We’ll each take a casita,” Lina said, shrugging like it made no particular difference to her.
    “You will take your regular room. Mr. Johnston will be in the casita next to Philip.”
    “I thought you just said that all the rooms in the house were assigned to guests,” Lina said.
    “Carlos didn’t assign your room to anyone else. The men living in the house are guards, not guests.”
    “Guards?” Lina asked sharply.
    “Of course. Guards have lived in the house for years. You just haven’t noticed because you’re never here for more than a few hours before you take off for one of Philip’s grubby little digs.”
    “Carlos must be as paranoid as Philip,” Lina said.
    Celia shrugged. “The world has changed. Especially now. Every crazy in the world has come to the Yucatan to celebrate the destruction of the old and the coming of the new.” She looked at Hunter. “I do hope you aren’t one of those deluded souls?”
    Hunter smiled.
    Lina winced.
    “No, ma’am,” he drawled in English. “Your beautiful daughter is all the lure this boy needs to come to the Yucatan. But Tulum sure did look crowded.”
    “Idiots,” Celia said. “Chasing legends like village children after butterflies.” She turned toward one of the paths leading into the shadows. “Come, Mr. Johnston. You can settle in Casita Cenote while I take Lina to her room. After you have time to refresh yourself, dial three on the phone. Someone will come and bring you to the house.”
    Lina didn’t object to the separate quarters. Casita Cenote was old, but better than the stable, which she’d bet was her mother’s first choice for Hunter. “I’ll show him the casita. I’m sure you’re busy juggling Abuelita’s celebration and a house full of guards.”
    For a moment Hunter thought Lina’s mother would object to letting them out of her sight. Then Celia gave him directions to the casita and turned to her daughter.
    “Come with me,” Celia said. “We have much to talk about and very little time together.”
    Lina looked at Hunter, who smiled with a warmth that made her flush.
    “No problem, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m good at