Barefoot in Pearls (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 3) (32 page)

Her eyes opened, and reality hit. She was in bed with Luke, under a gauzy canopy with early morning light streaming in through plantation shutters. Very slowly, she turned to face the man who had her curled into his chest and belly, sighing sleepily at the sight of his green-gold eyes and unshaven face.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Or I could say, ‘Hey, Cutter, I got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?’” He smiled and kissed her nose. “I’m practicing for the meeting I called with him this morning.”

She leaned up. “You have a meeting with him today?”

“I e-mailed him from your office last night, and he’s still in town, so we’re meeting at the property in”—he lifted a cell phone from the nightstand and checked the time—“a few hours. Enough time for a proper good-bye.” He dropped the phone and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in for a kiss.

She drew way back.

“Don’t tell me you’re a ‘have to brush your teeth first’ girl. I did already while you were sleeping. If you want to—”

“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know.” She choked softly in exasperation. “I’m not an anything kind of girl because I don’t spend the night with guys. Remember? Celibate?”

“Celibacy has ended.” He underscored that with a bold stroke over her belly, then lower.

She shuddered when he stroked between her legs. “Yes, it has. But tell me why we have to say a proper good-bye.”

His fingers glided over her. “It can be improper.” And slid inside her. “Feels like you’d enjoy that.”

“I…would. I am.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head back on the pillow, letting him explore her. “I don’t know why we have to say good-bye. Can’t I go…
oh
.” Sparks collided inside her as he worked more magic.

“No.” He leaned over and suckled her breast, using his thumb to drive her crazy and his tongue to make her want to scream.

“But I want to.” She rocked once.

“Then go ahead,” he teased, slipping another finger into her, rubbing and thumbing and bringing her right to the edge before she was even fully awake. “Come.”

“To meet Cutter.”

“In my hand.”

She couldn’t argue, not then, at least. Instead, she fisted the sheets and writhed under his palm and lost her breath and her mind and her ability to speak until she came, as he demanded, hard and fast.

“How…did…you…do…that?” she managed.

He laughed. “Want me to show you again?”

“Later. I won’t be able to walk today as it is.” She opened one eye and peered at him. “And I will walk…up the hill when we meet with Cutter Valentine.”

“I don’t know if it’s safe, Arielle. I’d rather you were here.”

“I’m safe with you,” she said softly, stroking his cheek. He looked doubtful. “I am,” she whispered. “I trust you completely to keep me safe. I think that when Cutter decides not to build that house, you should start some type of bodyguard business right here, close to me, because I want to stay with you.” Forever.

He just looked at her. “I love how straightforward you are.”

“And I’ll be straightforward with Cutter.” She closed her hand around his morning erection and stroked slowly. “When you take me with you today.”

“You’re manipulating me.”

She smiled, sliding under the covers. “I’m about to.”

An hour later, they were in Luke’s truck, gobbling up the gravel and dirt on the last bit of road before the turn to North Barefoot Bay.

“What do you think he’ll want to do?” Ari asked, taking a sip of the coffee they’d brought with them from the resort.

“Hard to say,” Luke mused, his eyes narrowing behind sunglasses. “Why is that freaking fence down?”

The bright yellow plastic fence, the silt fence, as he’d called it, was flattened at the place where they usually had to get out and unhook it.

“Cutter?” she asked.

“I doubt it. He’s not supposed to be here for a while.”

“Then who’s in that big truck?” A mud-splattered white truck with writing on the side blocked the view of the house.

“I don’t know. But Cutter’s Mercedes is next to it.” Luke swore softly. “I’m not late. I hate to be late.”

“No, he’s early,” she assured him as they pulled up. “And he’s…” She looked up the hill and sucked in a breath. “Digging for something at the top.”

Luke’s eyes popped at the sight. Someone had planted stakes about halfway up the hill and strung an orange rope, and about seven No Trespassing signs decorated the grass. At the top of the hill, Cutter and two other men, both in matching khaki shirts and pants, were talking. One of the men was leaning on a shovel.

Cutter turned and gave a sharp, quick wave, and even from this distance, Ari could see the face of an unhappy man.

“Looks pissed,” Luke said as he turned off the truck.

“Maybe the news that he’s sitting on millions of dollars will cheer him up.”

“Maybe.” He put his hand on the door and gave her a warning look. “Don’t tell anyone, Arielle. Whoever those guys are, whatever they’re doing, don’t tell them. It’d be asking for a shit ton of trouble.”

She nodded, turning to get out, when her gaze fell on the writing on the side of the truck.

United States Army Corps of Engineers.

Luke saw it, too, but stayed silent as they rounded the other vehicles and headed up the hill together.

“Morning, Cutter,” he called.

“Not a good one,” Cutter said. “These gentlemen seem to be bringing all work to a stop. Not that it was exactly flying forward.”

Ari felt Luke bristle as they reached the others, extending his hand. “Luke McBain.”

“Bill Cullen, with the Corps, and this is Matt Prawl, our bone specialist.” He turned to Ari and smiled. “You must be Arielle Chandler. We can’t thank you enough for filing this report, ma’am.”

Her jaw dropped, the words so unexpected and…wrong. “Pardon me?”

“You are”—he pulled out a paper and tapped the top—“Arielle Chandler? Am I saying that right? Do you go by another Native American name, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m Arielle Chandler, but…” A slow roll of heat crawled up her chest. “What report are you talking about?”

“This one, filed last Monday. Says this building is likely an infringement of NAGPRA. As you see, it’s not something we take lightly.”

“NAGPRA?” Luke asked, his gaze confused as he turned to her.

“Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act,” she said, the words barely coming out as anything but a whisper, she was so stunned.

“Passed in 1990,” the other man said. “It’s something any builder in this country should be quite familiar with.”

The subtext of indictment wasn’t lost on anyone. Defenses rising, Ari took a step closer. “Just to be clear, I didn’t file that report.”

Bill snapped the paper officiously. “Your name’s on it, ma’am. You called the office and gave the details of this property’s location and, according to our notes, said you have reason to believe this mound is a Native American burial site. Are you denying that?”

“No.” Damn it, she
had
called last Monday. Before everything started. “I left a message and…was just trying to get more information.” Even as she spoke them, the words sounded hollow. And Luke looked like she’d hit him with one of the stakes in the ground.

“Well, thank you for the tip,” Bill said. “We do have reason to believe it’s a native burial site, so we appreciate you filing the report.”

“But I didn’t—”

Cutter held his hand up. “I don’t give a crap who filed the report. Luke, why didn’t you know about this?”

All eyes were on him, but Luke chose to meet Cutter’s. “I knew there was a possibility, and I’ve retained a different geotechnical firm to perform a second core sampling and determine what materials are under this grass. That’ll happen next week, and then I’ll have two analyses that confirm—or not—that this hill is nothing but a shell mound, which is not protected under any act.”

Ari breathed a sigh of relief, so happy he had the right answer.

But he still didn’t look at her, and didn’t appear to be happy at all. Had he believed her when she’d sworn she didn’t file that report? Did he trust her?

Or would she be another woman who took the wrong side against him?

“How long will that take?” Cutter demanded.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bill interjected before Luke could answer. “Once a report’s been filed, we don’t use the core sample analysis. According to the law, we have to investigate ourselves, and that means surface digging and even something more aggressive. Whatever we find has to be analyzed at our labs up in DC, and honestly, that’s going to take a month or two, maybe even more.”

Cutter grunted softly, then slid a dark look to the man with the shovel. “Then get moving.”

The man walked away and stuck a shovel in the ground about ten feet away.

“So he’s arbitrarily digging around?” Luke asked. “With no plan or purpose?”

Bill snorted a laugh. “Welcome to the US government, son.”

They all waited an awkward beat as the shovel thudded into the ground. Ari looked at Luke, hoping to share a secret message—if they found gold, that would shut them all up—but he was watching the engineer, his face the image of unhappiness.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t officially filed any reports. She’d called to get information and, yes, she’d mentioned the location on the off chance that someone else had already looked into the possibility this was a burial mound. But that long explanation seemed wrong now. She’d tell him later.

But he wouldn’t even look at her.

Biting back the hurt, she followed his gaze and watched the man dig, then closed her eyes as something curled through her. A word she couldn’t quite grab. It wasn’t frustration or sadness or surprise or any of the things she expected to feel at this moment. It was…

Buried
.

Something was hidden. She balled her fists at her sides, keeping her eyes closed, concentrating on the word that somehow was being screamed in her head. Something was buried…
there
.

She turned and looked at the spot, maybe twenty feet away, and recognized it instantly by the foliage around the area. The spot where Luke had knocked her over. She took a few steps toward the place, trying to let her feelings take over any thoughts or memories.

Buried
.

She tried to swallow and failed, wondering how she could explain to these men that she felt something was hidden here. Only Luke would understand. She glanced over her shoulder at him, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

She refused to let that distract her, turning back to where her intuition led her. What was buried? Treasure, of course. Gold bricks stamped with the Spanish king’s seal. More pearls. Maybe rubies and diamonds.

The
San Pedro
had been loaded, Dr. Marksman told her.

And something was right here. Right on this very spot a foot from a scrubby pygmy palm she distinctly remembered when she’d found the pearls.

It was as if the pearls had
marked the very spot.

“Right here!” Her voice rang through the open air, making all four men turn to her. “It’s right here.” A zing of certainty snapped her elbow as she pointed furiously to the very spot.

The bone specialist, Matt, was next to her in a flash, shovel extended.

“What’s right there?” Cutter demanded as the man broke ground.

She looked at Luke, and he gave his head an infinitesimal shake. She swallowed hard and managed a shrug. “I’m not sure, but my guess is that it’s”—gold—“valuable.”

“What makes you think something’s there?” Bill asked.

“I…” Feel it. Know it. Believe it. “I found something up here a while ago, and it was right there.”

“What did you find? A bone? A skeleton?” Bill asked.

“Whoa!” They all turned to the man with the shovel, who thankfully saved her from answering.

Matt flipped a load of dirt, then froze, inching backward, then kneeling very slowly to the ground. Inexplicable fear pranced up Ari’s back. Terror, actually. Horror. Nothing she would expect to feel when they were about to discover The Lost Gold of the Calusa.

“Not a skeleton,” Matt said quietly. “This guy’s only been dead about a week.”

Ari gasped, sucking in air and getting a lungful of wretched stench.

“What?” Cutter practically leaped to the hole in the ground, and Luke came from behind, pulling her away.

“There’s a body?” she managed to whisper. That’s what was buried.

“Yep,” Matt said. “Easy to ID, since he’s got a tattoo.”

Ari leaned over, the foul smell assaulting her as she peered at the body, dark ink visible on his left arm.

Only God can judge me.

“Holy shit.” Cutter peered into the ground, his hand over his mouth and nose for protection. “That’s Jim Purty, the builder I fired.”

Chapter Twenty-six

“Luke wants you to ride back with me.” Gussie put a comforting arm around Ari, whispering the words.

Ari turned to her, not answering right away, digging for the right response. “Okay.” It was the best she could do. She was talked out, anyway, having spent hours and hours with law enforcement, doing interview after interview, telling them everything, starting with the pearl necklace she’d found.