As the hours passed, all Abby could think about was her grandfather and finding the treasure—proving King Farrell right, restoring his reputation as one of the world’s great explorers.

As soon as Kyle and Mateo had the camp set up, she and Gage walked the area. Gage wanted to get a feel for the terrain before they began to unravel the specific clues King had written in his notes. But dark came early in these mountains. They barely had time to complete the circle, to assess what they would be facing in the morning.

Lying in her sleeping bag, Abby stared up at the diamond spray of stars overhead. It was well after midnight, and she was still wide awake. Though neither she nor Gage had mentioned what had happened at the pool, her thoughts had returned there a dozen different times.

She was still surprised she’d had the courage to pursue him, though having spectacular sex with Gage was no surprise at all. He was everything she’d imagined and more.

Passionate, virile, and a skillful lover with an incredible body. Though Abby didn’t like to think of the women Gage had slept with, or would in the future, for now he was hers, and she believed he would keep his side of the bargain, unlike Ben.

Since their arrival that afternoon, she had done her best to keep him out of her thoughts. They were there to find the treasure. She needed to be completely focused on that goal.

But as she lay on her bedroll, she felt his presence less than a foot away, sleeping lightly, seemingly alert for any sign of trouble. His Winchester rifle lay on the other side of his bedroll within easy reach, his semiautomatic pistol on the ground above his head.

With a sigh, Abby finally gave up on sleep and quietly eased out of her bag. The dying embers of the campfire glowed red in the night, beckoning her in that direction. Seating herself on the rock she had sat on during supper—a meal of freeze-dried chicken and dumplings that tasted more like feathers—she found herself smiling.

Tomorrow, Mateo promised, they would be eating roast rabbit. Apparently, he had spotted a few of them and set a box trap made of branches to catch them. Mateo was an interesting man, extremely intelligent and insightful. An old soul, some would say. Abby had come to appreciate his unusual skills.

She was staring into the glowing coals when she spotted him in the darkness, moving toward her as quietly as a shadow. He crouched beside her, able to sit comfortably that way for surprising lengths of time.

“You do not sleep,” he said.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow—and excited at the same time.” She looked up at him, drawn by something that encouraged her trust. “It isn’t just the money.”