Название | Man With A Mission |
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Автор произведения | Lindsay McKenna |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“Want to risk some local food?” Ana challenged him. She liked the way he was slowly releasing that hard outer shell. She saw a bit of hope burning in his light blue eyes. His mouth was softening at the corners, too. Good. Ana felt his nervousness and tension. Maybe it was from the five-hour flight down here. Or maybe he was overwhelmed with worry about his sister. It could be all those things, and Ana was more than willing to let his gruffness and growliness slide off her shoulders.
“Yeah. Why not?” Wincing inwardly, Jake didn’t even like himself right now. He was really being nasty toward her and she’d been the epitome of warmth and welcome. Sometimes he was a real bastard.
“Trucha, it is,” she said, and gave Isidro their order. The waiter smiled shyly and left.
Trucha, Jake knew, was Spanish for trout. Every time Ana looked at him, he felt a little more of his nagging worry dissolving. As she delicately sipped the mocha latte, he saw an expression of enjoyment cross her face.
“Mmm, you have no idea how much I look forward to a little R and R here at Patrick’s restaurant. And if his bed and breakfast is full, I stay at Gringo Bill’s Hostel just across the plaza. Margarieta Kaiser is the owner and opens her arms to us. She knows how to take care of a war-weary soul.”
“From what I understand, you’re on a wartime footing at the base you fly out of all the time.”
Ana nodded. She set the cup down and curved her slender fingers around it. “Yes, we are.” She lifted her head and held his frank gaze. “And doing this is a very nice departure from my daily duties.” Sobering, she added quietly, “I’m very sorry to hear about your sister, Mr. Travers….”
“Call me Jake, will you?” He wanted to keep her at arm’s length, but somehow, it wasn’t working. A less formal atmosphere might make up for his growly attitude, he hoped.
She brightened. “Okay…you can call me Ana. All right?”
“No problem.” And it wouldn’t be at all for Jake. She was going to do away with military formality and that was just fine with him. He was mesmerized by the graceful movements of her hands. She was like a ballet dancer, not a combat pilot. He wrestled with the two disparate images and simply could not fit them together. Picturing her in the front seat of a deadly Boeing Apache was hard to do. Still, Jake could see her warrior side in her eyes. They were alert and missed nothing. She might be able to fight in the sky, but on the ground? No, he didn’t think she was cut out for this mission at all.
“So, tell me about your sister, Jake. Do you have a photo of her?”
He reached into his back pocket and drew out his wallet. “Yeah, right here.” He pulled it out and laid it on the table for her to look at.
“Oh, she’s very pretty,” Ana murmured as she studied the photo. Her eyes crinkled and she looked over at him. She saw grief burning in his eyes instead of the glowering anger she’d seen there before. “You’re a very handsome brother and sister.”
Heat trailed up his neck. Jake was blushing. Avoiding her teasing look, he paid attention to his latte and took a huge, scalding gulp. Ana Lucia Cortina was rattling him in ways he’d never anticipated. She was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous, with long, fine legs, a husky, warming laugh that went through him like fine whiskey, loosening him up, relaxing his knotted gut and making his heart pound and jump in his chest whenever she shared that intimate look with him. All of that told him she would be excess baggage on this mission. A pretty bauble, nothing more—and a definite liability.
“Tal’s the beauty. I’m more the frog in the pond compared to her,” Jake managed to reply uncomfortably.
Ana grinned. “You’re very modest. How wonderful. In a norteamericano that is a plus.” She laughed gently so as not to offend him. His cheeks had turned a dusky red color and Ana realized he was blushing. That made her like him even more, and assured her her heart was right: she’d intuited a special sensitivity in Jake and she hadn’t been wrong. Not many military men she knew blushed. And it was comforting to her that Jake had that capacity. Maybe he wasn’t going to be hard to work with after all—even if she was his boss.
Chapter Three
“So, your sister was working in the village of Huayllabamba when she was taken?” Ana opened up a small map and spread it across the table. They’d just eaten their fill of the pink-fleshed trout, and Isidro had cleared all the dishes away.
Jake’s knee accidentally brushed Ana’s as he sat forward to study her map. Again. He moved it. His left elbow splayed out on the linen tablecloth and brushed her right arm. He moved it. Somehow, his emotions, his yearnings and his worry for his sister were all becoming jumbled up inside him in one large, confused ball of sensitized nerves. Every time Ana looked at him, he melted inwardly. Her eyes were so full of life, laughter and kindness. He could feel her compassion toward him over Tal’s disappearance. It wasn’t an act. She understood. Still, Jake held his feelings in check. Just because she showed him a little warmth and compassion didn’t mean she was suited for this mission.
“Yes,” he muttered, scowling as he angled his chair so he wouldn’t keep bumping her. Touching Ana was a delicious and unexpected gift to Jake. He hadn’t expected to be drawn so powerfully to Ana especially now, with Tal’s life on the line. “I talked to the executive vice president of the Wiraqocha Foundation and she said Tal was going to be working with six different villages, looking for water and the best place to sink a well for each. Huayllabamba was the third village on her list. That’s where she disappeared.”
“I see,” Ana murmured. She tried to ignore the pleasant tingles on her knee and arm where Jake had accidentally brushed her. The turmoil in his pale blue eyes told her he was stressed and worried.
Tracing the black lines on the map with her slender index finger, Ana said, “This is a map of Machu Picchu and Rainbow Valley area. They are inseparable. The neck of the valley spills into the jungle, dropping from fourteen thousand to six thousand feet to intersect with the Machu Picchu Reserve. A reserve is like a national park—it’s a protected area.”
She tapped the map with her finger. “See this? It is our railroad—our lifeline, the only way to get in and out of Machu Picchu from Rainbow Valley, unless you want to fly in or out by helicopter.” Her eyes crinkled and she looked up and met Jake’s attentive gaze.
A sheet of warmth spread through her. Did she see longing in his eyes? Impossible. Ana decided she was more starved for a man’s company than she’d realized. That was all it was, she told herself silently. Just an instant attraction that would dissolve as quickly as it had sparked between them. He was still grousing whenever he found an opportunity, insisting that no woman should be on a mission like this, but she ignored his grumbling.
“We can take the train from the depot down the street to Kilometer 88. The train stops there briefly every day. We can get off, then cross the mighty Urubamba River by foot, on a rope bridge to the other side. There we can pick up the Inka Trail and head toward Huayllabamba. The trail parallels another river, Rio Cusichaca. We’ll be climbing from six thousand to nine thousand feet in order to reach Huayllabamba. What was the next village on her route?”
Jake unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it open. “Here’s her full itinerary. Most of the place names I can’t even pronounce.”
Laughing softly, Ana studied the handwritten list. “Hmm, after Huayllabamba, she was to go to Paucarcancha and then Pulpituyoc, where there is a temple site. These are all located along the Inka Trail.”
“What is the Inka Trail?”
Ana lifted her head. She saw Jake frowning as he intently studied the route she’d laid out. “It was created hundreds of years ago by the Inkas as a path between Rainbow Valley and Machu Picchu. Both places were important centers to the Inka empire. It’s made up of carefully cut stones that have been placed on a path about a meter wide. The stones are about the size of a modern-day brick, usually, but there are larger ones, too.”
“A