Was she jumping to conclusions? Maybe, but who else would send that many vehicles and an army of men to the ruins?
The steps were too steep to rush down, and if she moved at a safe speed, she’d be caught in the open when those men reached the city. That left her with no choice except to hide inside one of the buildings atop the pyramid.
They all had open doorways and windows, and from the pictures she’d studied when she’d researched the site, they were empty. There’d be nothing to conceal her. Her only chance of remaining unseen would be to crouch in a corner as far away from an opening as possible and stay very still.
The first building she checked contained a spider the size of a car—only a slight exaggeration—and she let it have the space. Her second choice held bones from a small animal. Hard pass. She checked where the men were on the paths. Time had run out.
Option number three was clear. Heart pounding, Nyx hunkered down in the corner and hoped they wouldn’t stay long.
Hours later, her head rested on her knees and all she wanted was for everyone to leave.
The charley horse hit without warning. Nyx swallowed her gasp, but her foot kicked a stone when she straightened her legs. She went still, not even daring to rub her calf. It wasn’t a surprise when a few minutes later a man appeared in the opening.
With one armed henchman on either side of her and the third pulling up the rear, they escorted her down the pyramid.
Her guards drew to a stop in front of the duo meeting in the center of the clearing. The man she assumed was the drug lord had dark, wavy hair, a crooked nose, suggesting it had been broken more than once, and a ragged scar on his right cheek. His eyes were as flat as a great white shark. Nyx barely suppressed a shudder.
The other? It was the mercenary she’d shared lunch with the other day.
“Friend of yours?”
“More than a friend. She’s my fiancée,” the merc said.
It took all her control not to gawk at him. An instant later, it dawned on her. He’d claimed her to keep her alive. Terror returned, hitting her like a tsunami. She tried to edge closer to the merc but was stopped. The decision was quick and easy. Nyx would back him up. How they’d pull it off remained a question. They didn’t even know each other’s names.
“I told you to come alone.” The drug lord’s voice was hard.
“I did come alone, Señor Vargas. My fiancée didn’t like the order and must have arrived before me to get into position to provide backup.” The merc looked down at her. “Do I have it right, Fireball?”
Nyx nodded. “One man against many didn’t seem fair.” Her voice sounded choked, but fear tightened her throat. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you, hon.”
“As if you’d be any help,” Vargas said, dismissing her, and returned his attention to the mercenary. “You can’t control your woman?”
Shrugging one shoulder, he said, “I’m not interested in women who can be controlled. I prefer fireballs.” The merc glanced at her again and winked.
It was meant to reassure her, but despite how relaxed he seemed, how confident, Nyx sensed his tension. They were in deep shit.
He didn’t have to protect her. He could have told Vargas the truth and not put himself at risk. Sure, she would take a bullet in the back of her skull, but that shouldn’t matter to a mercenary. She wanted to know why he’d stuck his neck out for her, but not right now. She needed to remain alert, ready to step into her role as fake fiancée when necessary.
“You allowed your woman to travel to Puerto Jardin while you’re attempting to become an arms supplier to Señor Torres? You expect me to believe that?”
Another one-shoulder shrug from the merc. “She didn’t know about the gunrunning when she decided to surprise me.”
“But she’s fine with you working as a mercenary?”
“She likes nice things. I like to give her nice things.”
Nyx pressed her lips tightly together. Not only was she stupid for coming to the ruins to protect him, she was a gold-digger, too.
“You don’t seem happy, Señorita…” Vargas paused, clearly waiting for her to supply her name.
“Templeton. Nyx Templeton.” There was no point in lying. All they needed to do was search the Jeep and find the rental agreement with her name written on it. At least she’d left her passport and ID in the hotel safe in Trujillo.
Vargas inclined his head. “What did Señor Case say that made you frown, Señorita Templeton?”
She tried to figure out what to say, but the delay caused a hardness to enter the man’s dead eyes. “I love him, not the things he buys me. I hate that he thinks all I care about is gifts.”
Vargas shifted his focus back to the merc. “Imagine all the nice things you could buy for your woman if you could provide Señor Torres with weapons.”