Happily Ever After (35 page)

It
was incredible.

Curiosity
made him turn the page, and his heart jolted at the face that stared back at
him. It was his own, captured with a sense of perfection that he knew he did
not possess. The face was almost godly, the eyes piercing and intelligent, the
lips full with sensual knowledge...

It
was him, and yet it was not him.

It
was his face as Sophie saw him, and the realization made his heart swell with
emotion. He was still reeling from it as he turned the page to find another. He
cocked his head at the image. It was another of him... horrific... the eyes
bulging in anger and the mouth wide open as though shouting. Christ, if he had
been flattered by the previous portrait, this one left him wincing. But her
work was extraordinary.

Sophie
stirred at his feet and he closed the pad, setting it down next to her
backpack, along with the rest of her drawings. He glanced at them, and then
back again, caught by the familiarity of them.

He
began to leaf through them, and was stunned by his discovery. His own research.
She had recreated the drawings with incredible accuracy... the jaguar god...
even the mapped tombs. Her attention to detail was astounding. Her drawings
were not only accurate, they were damned good, capturing more of the spirit of
his subjects than he ever could have hoped for. He could use her talents.

With
an overwhelming sense of gratitude, he set the drawings down and went to her,
hovering over her as she slept, watching her. The shadow of her lashes fell
long over her cheeks, brushing them softly.

He
was overcome with the desire to kiss her.

“Jack?”
she whispered sleepily, and he swallowed, pushing aside the thought that
tomorrow she would no longer be with him.

He
didn’t want to think of that now.

Didn’t
want to feel angry.

Didn’t
want to feel lonely.

He
wanted to make love to her.

He
kissed her lips softly, his heart beating harder at the feel of them so soft
against his mouth.

“Sophia,”
he murmured, desperate for the taste of her.

“Jack,”
she said, waking. She smiled sweetly at him and stretched lazily, then lifted
her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Shhh,”
Jack demanded, afraid she would refuse him. He silenced her with a hungry kiss,
willing her to feel what was in his heart.

Like
a flower, she opened to him, and he made love to her as he’d never made love to
anyone in his entire life.

Before
Sophie, he hadn’t known the real thing.

Before
her... everything he ever did was simply in preparation for this...

CHAPTER 33

Jack had assured her they would reach Harlan’s
camp bright and early the next morning, but Sophie was shocked to find how near
to it they’d encamped.

They’d walked, at most, a mile, and then burst
forth from the forest into a lush, beautiful clearing that was littered with
the nearly vanquished remains of a bygone age. The buildings stood a silent
testament to the people who had erected them, but the forest had long ago begun
to choke the ruins into submission. Flora and fauna alike conspired to conceal
the very buildings themselves from human eyes. So deep in the jungle they lay,
they were not ruins any man might easily stumble over.

Except that someone had found it, and Sophie could
see evidence of the jungle stripped away in places, reluctantly unveiling the
masterpiece of some forgotten culture.

The sight of it all momentarily took her breath
away.

She stood staring at the clearing in surprise, at
the multitude of tents her father’s money had purchased, and wondered which
tend was Harlan’s.

Her gaze sought Jack’s.

He was watching her at a distance, his feet
planted stubbornly, though she willed him to her side.

Had he realized how near they were?

Why hadn’t he told her?

Despite the intensity of their lovemaking, for
whatever reason he was still sullen with her. Suddenly, as she stood in the
shadow of these august ruins, beyond the bounds of Harlan’s sleeping camp, she
felt more alone than she’d ever felt in all her life. Never had she felt so
minuscule and unimportant, her purpose so insignificant in the greater scheme
of life.

Some part of her wanted to kneel in homage to this
place. Some part of her wanted to forget all she had come for and simply sit
and capture the heart and soul of this forgotten city. The greatest part of her
wanted to turn and run, but she’d come so far to face Harlan and she intended
to see it through till the end.

Sucking in a breath, she heaved the backpack off
her shoulders and laid it on the ground. Her heart began to hammer as she knelt
to retrieve her picture of Harlan.

Their arrival had been noted.

As the sun rose, bursting through the tree-tops,
Harlan’s camp began to stir. One by one, they crawled out from their tents to
watch the interlopers.

Somehow, it seemed everyone watched her... Jack’s
crew and Harlan’s, as well. They all stared at her, waiting to see what she
would do.

Her fingers shook as she withdrew the picture she
had been carting around, and she refused to look up into anyone’s eyes,
especially not Jack’s.

Kell came forward and patted her on the back... at
least she thought it was Kell by the friendly way he clapped her.

She looked up to find Jack, and her heart did a
quick little somersault against her ribs. “Jack,” she exclaimed, and wanted to
throw herself into his arms.

Panic began to take hold of her. Her meticulously
memorized speech flew out of her head completely.

He dragged her up, seizing her by the arms, his
fingers digging gently into her flesh.

“Sophia,” he said, and the look in his green eyes
was fervent. Sophie wanted to weep at the intensity visible in his stark green
eyes. “I’ll back you... however you choose to handle this. I’ll make it
right...”

She knew he would. That wasn’t her concern. She
wanted to tell him everything, but it wouldn’t be long before he knew. “Oh,
Jack!” she cried, and tried to embrace him, but he held her at bay.

“I’ll tell him it was all my fault,” he assured
her. “But you don’t have to confess anything at all.”

“Jack,” she protested. “I have to—”

He shook her gently, but urgently. “No, listen to
me!” he begged her.

Sophie suddenly wanted to sob, and she didn’t even
know why. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she admonished herself for being so
silly.

It wasn’t as though this were goodbye.

Why was she crying?

“Sophia...” He swallowed visibly. “I just want you
to know...”

Her heart squeezed her painfully. She stared into
his eyes, willing him to speak. “Yes, Jack?”

“Before you go ..

His fingers clutched her harder, almost
desperately, but Sophie didn’t care. The look in his eyes gave her hope.

She waited with bated breath to hear his next
words.

“Jack,” she prompted when he merely stared, the
look in his eyes something like fear, as though he were afraid to speak the
words. But that was impossible, because Jack MacAuley wasn’t afraid of anything
at all.

She swallowed convulsively.

He was her hero, her lover, her friend, and lately
her mentor. She loved him fiercely, and respected him even more. She wanted to
please him always.

Harlan’s camp had come completely alive in the few
moments while they stared at each other, while Sophie willed Jack to speak the
words.

I love you,
her heart cried out.

Say it,
Jack.

“Sophia!” someone shouted. It was Harlan.

Sophie peered over her shoulder to see him coming
toward them, and panic beset her all over again. She clutched Jack’s arm,
looking frantically at him. She didn’t want him to let go of her because if he
did, she would fall flat on her face and humiliate herself before one and all.

“Jack!” she cried softly, terror-stricken, but not
for the reasons he might have thought. The picture of Harlan slipped from her
fingers and fell to her feet.

She was afraid he would never say it, afraid the
real world would somehow take him away, afraid he wouldn’t wait for her... that
he would walk away without knowing the truth—and she was still afraid of
being a fool for any man.

His eyes seemed to be pleading with her.

She tilted him a beseeching glance.

His hand suddenly lifted from her arm, and gently
reached out to caress her face. “I love you, Sophia,” he said, speaking the
words she most needed to hear.

Her heart lifted into her throat, and tears sprang
to her eyes. Her throat constricted, and she couldn’t speak for an instant.

“Sophia!” Harlan shouted once more, his tone
sounding overly pleased. “Here I am... over here!” he hailed her.

With a strength of determination, she hadn’t known
she possessed, she pulled away from Jack, but he held her fast. “You don’t have
to go,” he urged her.

Sophie pushed him firmly away, wanting so much to
explain, but Harlan was nearly upon them. “Yes, I do!” she assured him, and
sucked in a breath. “I have to do this, Jack!” And she extricated herself from
his iron grip, suddenly dizzy with joy.

He loved
her!

Dear God, he loved her!

Never in her life had anyone spoken those words to
her. Never in her life had she wanted someone to say them more. Her heart felt
near to bursting.

She didn’t care about Harlan at all.

This wasn’t the least painful, only necessary, and
she was suddenly eager to do it! She straightened her shoulders, picked up the
picture of Harlan from where she’d dropped it at her feet, gave Jack one last heartfelt
glance, and said again, “I really have to do this.”

And she grinned at him.

She actually grinned at him.

As she tore away from him, Jack swallowed so hard
that it hurt his heart. She began walking toward Harlan, never looking back,
and he stood there, feeling as though she’d ripped out his insides and then
smiled as she’d done so.

He let her go.

He had no choice but to do so.

He’d laid out his heart for the taking, and she’d
refused it and left him anyway.

He couldn’t bear to watch.

His gaze sought Kell’s and he found his friend
grinning as well. The realization gave him pause.

What the hell was wrong with everyone?

He turned once more to Sophie, watching her stride
toward Harlan... full of confidence and purpose. She was a woman with a
mission. In her hand she clutched Harlan’s vandalized picture as though it were
a weapon. As he watched, she lifted it up suddenly when she was almost near
Harlan and quickly removed the back, tossing it over her shoulder. She removed
something and then tossed the picture as well. And just when Harlan would
embrace her to welcome her, she unfolded something and thrust it into his face.

He’d be damned if Kell wasn’t laughing. Jack
couldn’t hear him, but his shoulders shook with mirth.

What the hell was going on?

How did Kell seem to know?

Jack moved closer to eavesdrop, thinking maybe he
could bear to hear this after all.

“Oh, Harlan, guess what Jon has shared with me!”
she declared as she waved a paper in his face.

“What?” her fiancé asked her, trying to examine
the paper as she waved it.

And then, evidently, he recognized it, because he
paled visibly at the sight of it, and Sophie said to him, “I see you recognize
it, Harlan dearest!”

Curiosity needled Jack and he moved closer to
Kell. “What the hell is that in her hand?”

“A letter,” was all Kell felt inclined to reveal,
and he grinned at Jack.

Jack shot him a glare, and turned to watch Sophie
again, his attention riveted to her now as she began to recite something aloud
to everyone who cared to listen.

“... and the women here are the most lovely any
man has ever beheld,’ she read, her tone melodramatically poetic, “skin so
velvet brown and eyes so deep a black a man may sigh to see his own reflection
in her eyes!”

“How did you get that?” Harlan suddenly exploded,
his face turning a mottled red.

“And hair!” Sophie continued, unfazed by the
hysteria in his voice, “Christ, I have never had the joy of touching hair so
rich it flows through your hands like the mane of a fine riding horse!”

“Sophia!” Harlan protested with a gasp and tried
to seize the letter from her.

“And in parenthesis...” she added as an aside,
turning to Jack. She actually winked at him then, and laughter erupted from his
lips, despite his utter confusion.

She wasn’t even angry. He’d be damned. Had she
planned this all along? Why didn’t she tell him? He would have reveled in her
purpose, egged her on, even. Hell, he’d have given her free passage!

She went back to the letter, waxing poetic once
more. “And they love to be ridden, Jon... I know this firsthand!”

“Sophia!” Harlan objected, his tone growing angry
now. His face turned a deeper shade of red.