she had made a particularly thrilling discovery while opening a crate at the museum or on a dig when she unearthed a find. Was that the way she had been that last night right before she’d been murdered? The question sent a bolt of pain through him, and he had to look away from Tory, biting down hard to keep from showing any emotion.
While fighting the demons of his past, he watched the men work at removing the dirt around the ancient door at the same time being aware of every movement Tory made. She tensed, causing the same reaction in Guerrero, his body whipping into a rigid stance.
“Stop.” One arm stretched out in front of her, Tory took a half step forward.
When the Mayan helpers moved away to allow Tory near the door, Guerrero had managed to shut off the pain and the memories, something he had become quite good at doing in the past three years. He had a job to do, and he couldn't let anything or anyone get in his way, especially if he could get answers to questions plaguing him since Anna died.
Tory bent down and began to whisk dirt and debris away from a spot in front of the door. Her eyes gleamed, her movements shaky as she started uncovering an exquisite eccentric flint. "Mario. Ramon. Look at its complex, silhouetted imagery. It's so fragile. I can't believe it seems to be intact."
The two men accompanied by a young woman, probably a college student, moved toward Tory.
The wonder in her voice touched a buried part of Guerrero, threatening again to unleash those emotions he had learned to live without. His failure to protect his wife gnawed at his insides like a corrosive acid. He tried to inhale a deep breath but couldn't. His heartbeat hammered against his chest as if it were proclaiming its derision of him for taking this job. He hadn't been there for Anna. Why did he think he could be here for Tory? The stale air pressed down on him while the walls seemed to enclose about him.
After quickly assessing that Tory would be all right, he left. On top of the temple he took another deep breath that filled his lungs with the damp air of the jungle. The racing of his heart slowed to a normal beat while he quickly examined the surrounding rainforest. With the recent activity at the dig and now this discovery of the door and the exquisite artifact, he strongly suspected a nightmare would swoop down upon them soon. He couldn’t dismiss this gut feeling.
Descending the steep steps, Guerrero relished the moment as the only time there might be quiet and peace at the site. In his gut, he knew what Tory was digging free would change everything. After his wife's murder, he had promised himself he wouldn't be responsible for another person's life. Now he was here doing the very thing he had never wanted to do again.
He positioned himself against a towering tree and watched the only entrance into the temple while fighting the feeling of being sucked into a vortex of memories. The night his wife had been murdered he’d taken part in a raid. She had remained at the Puerto Sierra National Museum that evening past closing, and he had been unaware until he’d arrived home later that night. Why couldn't she have waited to look over the artifacts until the next morning? She had been alone except for one guard who had been killed along with her. If Guerrero had known, he could have prevented what had happened to Anna and the guard.
He balled his hands into such tight fists that pain radiated up his arms. His stomach knotted with guilt. He owed his wife a debt and had placed his life on hold until he discovered who was responsible for murdering her. He would use any means to uncover who was behind the black-market ring in Puerto Sierra, including Tory Winters and her archaeological dig. That was the reason he had broken his promise to himself about being responsible for protecting another human being, and it was the only reason.
An hour later, he watched Tory make her way down the steps of the temple and toward him. The look of rapture on her face entwined about his heart and squeezed. This was her whole life. He suspected she had placed her life on hold in order to pursue what was beneath the ruins. She wouldn't do anything halfway.