Chapter 6.

 

Gulping coffee, Maya stared glumly at her computer screen. She’d been up half the night, ever since that frustrating dream ruined her sleep. Enough time to confirm that Judith was right: the only Criehaven Island on the internet was the wrong one.

Time to go old school. At 6:00 am, she trudged into work and began the long, slow, tedious job of sorting through the colonial maps in APEP’s collection.

Four hours later, the chime of the elevator shattered the silence. Maya jumped and gave a little shriek.

Oh hell, I need music or something. This office is as quiet as a tomb.

Who on Earth came in to work on a Sunday morning? And to her floor – she had the place to herself. Unnerved, she waited as the doors slid open.

The man of her dream stepped out: Jamie Wolfe, in Nikes, jeans, and a Yankees t-shirt. Same casual attire as before. Somebody was damned and determined to buck APEP’s dress code. The sight of him raised a witch’s brew of emotions in her heart. Lust, because he was a damned handsome man (even if he probably wasn’t as good in bed as she’d dreamed). Anger. Though that was unfair. The fact that she had a vexing dream wasn’t really his fault.

On top of that, lay fear. A sick, creeping dread that wormed its way through her and set her heart racing.

Jamie Wolfe was just wrong. A no-skills ‘expert’ who could ‘help’ her research. He was the strongest evidence that Judith was right: something strange was going on at APEP.

Maya intended to find out what that was.

“Ms. Graham!” Jamie flashed a brilliantly white grin that set her heart racing for a completely different reason. Dammit, why did he have to be so hot?

“Mr. Wolfe.”

“Jamie, please. And can I call you ‘Maya’? Like I said, I hate formalities.”

No, she liked ‘Ms. Graham’ just fine. Despite that, Maya found herself nodding, loving the way her name sounded on his lips.

Hello? Could we take this seriously? This guy could be a killer, for crying out loud!

True, but she found that hard to believe. He’d been so gentle…

…in my dream. Which didn’t really happen.

Oh. Right. Maya straightened her shoulders and put on her best professional expression. “How can I help you, Jamie?”

“Other way around. I’m here to help you. How, I’m not sure. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve found and I’ll see if I can be of use?”

“Sure.” She grabbed some maps of Upstate New York and spread them across her work table. “Are you Haudenosaunee?”

Jamie frowned thoughtfully. “I’m hearing ‘hot in no sauna’ and I’m sure that’s not what you’re saying. Though, if you do have doubts about my elite sauna skills…”

She burst into giggles – which threatened to bubble away her more sensible fear. “Haudenosaunee. Europeans called them ‘Iroquois.’ I’m guessing you’re not a member of one of their Nations, then.”

“Nope.” He peered at the maps, so close that she could feel the heat radiating out from his muscular body.

With a gulp, she edged away. That heat brought back too many seductive memories from her dream. “So, what do you do?”

“Nothing. I’m rich.” He leaned down, his hand sliding over to brush against hers.

Maya pulled her hand back. Though slowly. “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“I’m here because another rich guy – the guy who pays for all this – wants me here. So, indulge him and get your paycheck. That’s all that matters in the end, isn’t it?”

“No!” Now she did step away, folding her arms across her chest. “My research matters to me. The truth matters to me.”

Emerald eyes studied her. Oddly, they made her think of an artifact she’d once seen, a mask of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. The Feathered Serpent. “Does it?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.” Those mesmerizing eyes released her as he turned back to the map. “In that case, you’re looking too far north. Try somewhere west of Saugherties. Maybe in the Big Indian Wilderness.”

“Wrong. It’s north of Albany.”

“Ms. Graham…” A soft growl wove through his voice as he reverted to her more formal name. “I know how long it takes to get to this place from New York City.”

“No, you don’t. Not if you think it’s down there.”

“Maya…”

“Don’t ‘Maya’ me,” she snapped. “I have a French diary which talks about it being several days’ travel north of ‘the castle.’ Which was on Castle Island in Albany.”

Guarded and wary, he watched her. “I assume you mean Dutch, not French.”

“No, French. The French traded for furs here before the Dutch arrived.”

“Well, I think your fur traders were wrong.”

“And I think you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Why the hell would he insist on this? It was almost like he was deliberately trying to steer her wrong!

“You’re the expert. Do what you want with my information. Though, I will warn you: Mr. Fowler isn’t going to be happy if you ignore me.”

That veiled threat brought her fears roaring back. Maya retreated back to her desk, leaving the maps to Jamie.

He asked a few more questions. Made a couple suggestions. Both idiotic, in her opinion.

After a blessedly short time, though, he straightened. “Sorry. Don’t think I have anything else to add.”

“No need to apologize.” Especially since she intended to ignore everything he said.

He turned slowly, glancing around the spacious office. “Nice place. No windows, though.”

“Of course not. Sunlight can damage delicate materials.”

“Ah. Bet your boyfriend’s pretty excited about the salary you’re pulling down.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” As soon as the words slipped out, Maya cursed herself. Where did he get off asking personal questions like that?

“No?” Even in the midst of her annoyance, the surprise in his voice was flattering. “Well, then, I bet your parents are proud.”

“I never knew my father. My mother died of breast cancer two years ago.” Again, she volunteered information! Jamie Wolfe was, undoubtedly, a plant. A spy for her boss. Yet, for some stupid, unfathomable reason, her treacherous heart yearned to trust him.

That damnable dream. It had to be, because she wasn’t an idiot!

“Brothers? Sisters? No?” Why did he sound so sad about that?

“No. Only child.”

“I see. That’s too bad.”

The funny part was that he sounded genuinely disappointed.

“Well, I should get going. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Okay.” Maya refused to thank him for his non-existent help.

Jamie winced sharply and massaged his shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry. I think we got off on a bad foot. Maybe I can take you out to dinner some night?”

Her heart, that deceitful, selfish thing, yearned to accept – but Maya shook her head. “I usually work pretty late.”

“Lunch then?”

“Mr. Wolfe.” He winced again as she retreated into the formality he hated. “Workplace fraternization is generally not a good thing.”

“Workplace fraternization,” he murmured, shaking his head sadly. As if he’d never heard that term before. Hell, he was rich. Maybe he hadn’t.

Dammit, why did she feel guilty? She didn’t owe him anything. He wasn’t her… her…

Mate.

That was the word, magical and mysterious.

And nonsense. Maya gritted her teeth and banished the last traces of that dream from her mind. She hadn’t been ‘Claimed’ (whatever that meant). He wasn’t her ‘Mate.’ He was a corporate spy.

“Don’t let me keep you,” she hinted, through clenched teeth.

With a shudder, he walked off, still massaging his shoulder blades.

 

True to her word, Maya buried herself in work for the rest of the day. She scurried outside long enough to find a hot dog stand for lunch but returned to her desk before anyone could accost her.

Worries grew, however. Jamie’s strange visit left her uneasy, unable to shake the feeling that Lucian Fowler was spying on her. Questions nagged her. Was Jamie testing her loyalty? Would Judith make it back to NYC okay? And what dark secret would she reveal?

More and more she fretted until finally, at 6:30, she couldn’t take it anymore. Turning the lights off, Maya called it a day and headed for Tucci’s early. A drink or two might calm her down before Judith arrived.

A half hour early, she arrived at Tucci’s and snagged one of the few bar stools still available.

The white panel van across the street didn’t seem that unusual. People in NYC double-parked all the time. When Maya spotted Judith hurrying toward her, it was the last thing on her mind.

Until the door swung open and a man jumped out.

Jamie Wolfe. A hoodie hid his face, but she recognized his clothes from this morning and the deadly grace with which he moved.

Like a hawk pouncing on a defenseless dove, he grabbed her. One hand clamped over her mouth then he hopped back into the van with her, as if her friend weighed no more than a rag doll.

“Judith!” Maya screamed. Making everyone near stare at her.

Not the van, or its license plate.

Before she could cross the sidewalk, the van tore off.

Taking Judith with it.