are taken from the site, their value is diminished to an archaeologist. They may be beautiful to look at, but much of the history of the artifacts is lost if not studied where they’re found."
The granite planes of Guerrero’s face took on an even harsher look, a nerve twitching in his jaw. "Then we agree on something. That was my mother’s heritage they want to take.”
Sipping her coffee, she stared at him over the rim of her cup. The intensity in his expression surprised her. He didn't show his emotions often, but his anger was evident, leashed for the moment, simmering under the surface. "Then I guess we should be going." She rose.
"What about your breakfast?" Guerrero asked, indicating the untouched food with a sweep of his hand.
"Too much excitement. I'll just grab one of these," she snatched up a banana, "and finish this." She downed the rest of her lukewarm coffee and set the cup on the tray. "Ready?"
"I guess I am."
His chuckle was low, the sound easing her tension.
"Good. Because now that I have you, I'm eager to get back."
Guerrero paused standing up and snared her with his sharp gaze and smiled. "Have me?"
She blushed, his smile more of a stimulant than a pot full of coffee. "A figure of speech. Now that you’re working for me is what I meant."
He straightened to his full height. "Are you packed?"
"It won't take me long." Tory hurried into the bathroom and gathered up her belongings, stuffing them in her backpack. She was ready in a few minutes, conscious the whole time of Guerrero watching her every move. As she headed for the door, she stopped and cast a glance toward him. "If someone’s in the lobby, how am I going to leave?"
"The back way."
"Skip out on my bill? I do have a reputation to protect."
"All I can protect is your body. The rest you'll have to deal with."
His swift, but potent survey of her length deepened her blush. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue while fighting down the image of him protecting her by covering her body with his powerful, muscular one. "Do you think Juan would take care of the hotel bill for me?"
"Under the circumstances, I'll make sure he does." Guerrero reached around Tory and opened the door.
Beads of perspiration broke out on her upper lip at a brush of his arm against hers.
"Let's take the stairs." Guerrero's hand touched the small of her back.
Although the pressure of his fingers was light, Tory felt seared by the contact, the sense of heat flowing from him into her. She quickened her pace in hopes he would drop his arm to his side. No such luck. Step for step, he kept up with her, his hand resting on her back.
At the stairs, she let him go first, their footfalls echoing in the stairwell. "What if there’s someone watching the back?"
"I'll deal with that if it arises."
Somehow, she thought he dealt with life like that. One problem at a time, whereas she had to plan for every contingency, mapping out her future to the minute. There were times she wondered if she was angrier at the people behind the sabotaging because they were messing up her organized plans rather than because they were scaring her and the others at the site.
When Guerrero opened the ground floor door into the lobby, he motioned for Tory to stay back. Then he disappeared on the other side. Countless moments later he reappeared, a frown marring his expression. "He's still there."
“Where?" she asked, her natural curiosity bubbling up. She wanted to see the man who dared to stalk her and disrupt her life.
"Near the reception desk."
She started to peek at the man Guerrero indicated, but his hand on her upper arm stopped her.
"What do you think you're doing?" His low voice tingled along the shell of her ear.
She drew in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder at him. "I want to see what the man looks like. Maybe I've seen him before."
"No."
She began to protest, but he swung her around to face him, his finger pressing into her lips to still her words.
"I'm not willing to take the risk of him discovering you to appease your curiosity."
"But I might—"
"You either do as I say, or I'll walk away right now."
The only emotion in his expression was a steely determination to have his way. She felt like she’d hit a brick wall going a hundred miles an hour. When she’d