Meanwhile Riley had turned into Indiana Jones with a touch of James Bond thrown in. He’d been traipsing around the globe, taking on whatever adventures appealed to him for the past eight years, while Abby stayed home in Phoenix, eaten alive with envy every time one of Riley’s postcards turned up from another exotic location.
On her twenty-fifth birthday, when Riley came home for the first time in almost a decade, every last ounce of Abby’s common sense flew out the window. In the middle of the party, surrounded by all the people who loved her and whom she loved, she faced the fact that she wanted the life Riley had. She wanted the excitement that made her pulse race and the anticipation that left her breathless.
Then, in one of those middle-of-the-night flashes of insight, she’d realized it went far deeper than that. The truth of it was that she wanted Riley, had always wanted him. He stirred more passion in her with a single glance than Martin did with all of his precise, carefully orchestrated and dutifully restrained caresses.
For the first time in her life Abigail Dennison had been totally, unabashedly selfish. Oblivious to Martin’s objections, oblivious to her parents’ words of caution, she had wheedled and cajoled until Riley had finally agreed to bring her along to Mexico.
Unfortunately, while she’d been having the time of her life trudging deeper and deeper into the rain forest, while she’d been falling deeper and deeper into love with Riley, he’d apparently been planning to ship her back home again. Back to her dull life. Back to Martin. The very prospect made her shudder.
“You promised me an adventure,” she informed Riley.
The reminder didn’t make a dent in his resolve. She could see it in his steady, determined gaze.
“And you’ve had one,” he said. “Now it’s time to go home and marry that attorney. Settle down and raise a passel of kids, Abby. That’s the life you were cut out for.”
There was an odd note in his voice when he said it, a note she couldn’t quite interpret. Jealousy? Sorrow? Wistfulness? She chided herself that that was wishful thinking on her part. Pride kept her from pointing out that she’d already raised a family to all intents and purposes. She’d been settled down since the age of twelve. As for Martin, the past ten days in Mexico with Riley had proved what she’d known all along. Martin was too tame for her. For once in her life she would not settle for less than what she wanted.
She glanced at Riley, took in the familiar stubborn set to his chin, the rakish shadow of a beard on his cheeks, the misshapen hat he’d shoved back on his head of thick, sun-streaked hair. A tremor of excitement echoed through her, followed at once by a whisper of disappointment.
She knew with every fiber of her being that Riley would never touch her the way she’d imagined ever since he’d kissed her just once, all those years ago, in a moment of taut, unexpected, shimmering sexual awareness. He would never make a commitment to her. He was too convinced that no woman deserved to play second best to his high-risk adventures. He was too damned honorable to make love to her, knowing that his mind was made up about his solitary future.
Abigail would have seduced him, if she hadn’t been so uncertain about his response and whether she was misinterpreting the spark of masculine interest that crept into his eyes when he looked at her in those unguarded moments when he thought she wasn’t aware of his presence. She was thoroughly terrified that he would laugh in her face. There were a lot of dangers she was willing to brave, but not that one. It was the kind of test that could ruin a friendship forever.
She thought she could accept the fact that in the end she would probably lose Riley, but she would not give up this time with him. She was going to find this blasted Mayan treasure by his side or die trying. This was the romantic quest of her dreams. They would share one glorious adventure before she went back to her dull existence. On that, at least, she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“I’m staying,” she said again, meeting his gaze evenly.
There was no hesitation, no wary blink of his eyes, just “no, you’re not.”
Abigail sighed in the face of that quiet resolve. “Riley, this is important to me.”
“Keeping you safe is important to me.”
“Why?”
He shot her a puzzled look. “What kind of question is that?”
“Why should you care whether I live or die?”
“Abby...”
“I mean it, Riley, tell me what difference it makes to you whether I live or die.”
He regarded her soberly. “I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he said finally.
That was a start, Abby decided. Unfortunately, she could tell from the look on his face that he was going to keep on and spoil it.
“Besides, I’m responsible for you,” he said. “I promised your parents I would look out for you. Hell, I promised old Martin that I’d get you back home safe and sound, and by God that’s what I’m going to do.”
“What about your promise to me?” she demanded softly, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.
Riley scowled at her, then sighed when he saw that she wasn’t about to back down. “Abby, be reasonable.”
“I have been reasonable my entire life. I have been ordinary and predictable and sensible for twenty-five years. I’ve been devoted to my family. I’ve made Martin a very proper fianc;aaee. I think it’s about time I did what I
