An extraordinary warrior and an ordinary villager. An unlikely pair brought together by their own ideals of what life should be. Out of the search for these two lost souls came another unlikely pair—this one an ordinary professor and an extraordinary adventurer. Also lost souls, albeit in a different way, these archaeologists found in each other what Chimalli and Yaretzi had found in the same jungle hundreds of years earlier: true love.
They say a picture speaks a thousand words. These photos were taken without their knowledge—every reaction is 100 percent real. The photographer had planned to use these photos against them （see the “Sex, Smuggling, and Blackmail” display in the next room）。 The only thing he caught, however, was proof that even the most unlikely of pairs can fall in love.
Corrie wiped a tear from her eye as she looked at the photos, placing her hand on one at the waterfall. A clothed one, thank God, though the nude ones had already been well circulated by now. She’d expected more slut shaming, but, surprisingly, the community had rallied behind her. This time, however, rather than shy away from the attention, Corrie embraced it. What did she have to hide, anyway? That she’d had sex with a man she loved and that some Peeping Tom had tried to exploit her? Sure, she’d prefer that her colleagues—or anyone else who’d not shared her bed—not know what she looked like naked, but she figured their prying eyes said more about their character than her own.
She couldn’t believe that rat Lance had actually survived his dive over the waterfall and that he’d had the forethought to create digital backups of the photos. But at least he was behind bars for multiple counts including voyeurism, kidnapping, and attempted murder.
“Dr. Mejía.”
A smile formed on her face at the sound of that luscious timbre. It might have only been a few hours since they’d spoken on the phone, but hearing that voice in person and knowing this time she’d be able to touch him—well, she couldn’t help the butterflies swirling in her stomach.
Slowly, she turned, leaning against the wall. There he was, sexy as hell in his tuxedo. Hands in his pockets. Leaning against the doorway on the other side of the room. Far too distant for her liking.
“Dr. Matthews,” she responded with hooded eyes, the desire dripping from her lips.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
“Mind what?”
“This,” he said, motioning his head to the wall behind her. “Lance had been watching us from the moment you arrived.”
“Well, aside from the fact that he was the source, I love it. I hate to admit it, but he had a knack for photography. Caught the exact moment that I fell for you.”
“Oh really? Show me.”
He pushed off the doorframe and strode across the room toward her, sending a jolt of heat between her legs. She hadn’t seen him in person in three months, not since she’d joined another dig in the Yucatán. Even after a year together, he still made her heart sing whenever he was around, whether in person, on the phone, or only in her thoughts. It had been hard being apart, especially after she’d almost lost him from the stabbing. Things had been touch-and-go for a few weeks in the hospital, between the loss of blood and a later infection, but he’d eventually pulled through. They’d spent as much time together as possible since then, which, between Corrie’s sabbatical and Ford’s resignation, had made things a lot easier—up until she’d left for Mexico again, that was.
The instant he was beside her, she wanted to pounce on him, and it took all her strength not to. They were in a public setting, after all. But he took her hand and stood beside her, staring at the collection of photos on the wall.
“This one,” she said, pointing to the photo of them doing dishes her first night in camp.
He craned his head and looked at her. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm. It was when you were talking about your mom and I realized you were actually a good guy. Speaking of?”
“She’s out with Ethan. Sorry again I couldn’t pick you up from the airport. Her doctor’s appointment went late today, but she’s looking and feeling great.”
“That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here. That you both are.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He planted his lips on hers, sending a fire roaring through her body. Not even three months and thousands of miles apart could tame the blaze from his kiss.
“When did you know?” she asked.
“Know what?”
“That you were in love with me?”
“In the library. When you were drinking that coffee. I knew it the minute I wanted to be that coffee.”
“You wanted to be coffee?” she asked with a smirk.
“Absolutely. I wanted to touch your lips and be consumed by you. There might not be a picture of it hanging on this wall, but it’s here,” he said, placing his fingertips at his temple, “and here,” he said, taking both their hands and holding them over his heart. “That picture will forever be etched in my soul. And no one can take it away from me.”
Just like no one could take his heart away from her.
A low rumble of words and whispers came from the other room. The exhibition must have opened to the public. After one more quick kiss, they separated their bodies and mingled with the guests. Answering questions. Telling stories. Catching each other’s longing gazes throughout the evening.
The exhibition was a hit. Experts and archaeology enthusiasts had come from all over the world—though Dr. Crawley had conveniently been left off the guest list. In this field, reputation meant everything, and Crawley’s had sunk to the bottom rung with the likes of Pierre Vautour and Bernard Sardoni. But for the first time in her life, Corrie was recognized for more than her antics and appearance. The old boys’ club asked for her opinion. For her assistance on their own archaeological mysteries. Ford hung back and watched, allowing her to shine in the spotlight all on her own. Whenever a question was directed at him about the Chimalli dig, he deferred to Corrie, “as she was the lead,” he’d explain. Never once taking credit for her accomplishments. And he was even quick to point out the mistakes he’d made early on.
As the evening wound down, Ford and Corrie made a final pass through the room to say their goodbyes. Sunny and Ethan offered to take Miri back to the hotel, though they all made plans to meet for brunch in the morning along with the rest of the gang. The whole crew had come—Mateo, Gabriel, Jon, Memo, and even Agnes.
“I’m glad to see the two of you still together. Though, Dr. Matthews, if you ever want to settle down, you know where to find me,” Agnes said with a wink.
“What makes you think I haven’t settled down?” Ford asked.
“There’s no settling down with this one. Something tells me life will always be an adventure so long as you’re together.” She pulled them in for a three-way hug. “Call me the next time you need a chef for another dig. Most excitement I’ve had in years.”
Agnes walked off, leaving them alone beside the knife case. “So, do you think what Agnes said is true? That you’ll never settle down?” Corrie asked.