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to find. The
    sweatpants and oversized thermal shirt she wore were more suited to a Sunday staying in than to a woman
    rambling the countryside. The rambler cover story would allow her to dress practically and be able to hide weapons in the various pockets of her trousers, or under a loose top.
    She heard a door open somewhere not far from her room, and Millie searched for something to use as a
    weapon, but nothing was handy. If she smashed the chair, she could use a chair leg to knock someone
    unconscious, but the noise would give her away.
    Besides, she didn’t know how many people were on the other side of her door. Instead, she lay back on
    the bed. She’d show that she was awake, but would play up her grogginess and hopefully make her guard
    underestimate her strength.
    Steps sounded against a hardwood floor, but stopped right before someone unlocked her door.
    Snuggling deeper into the blankets, Millie tried her best to look helpless because if this didn’t work, she could be in serious trouble. Kiarra’s brother may have gotten her out of the research facility only to put her into the hands of another interrogator. The bollocks of it all was that she simply didn’t know, and she hated not having enough information. Hopefully, she’d rectify that soon enough.
    The door opened and a tall man with dark red hair and a two-day old beard came into the room. She
    couldn’t see any weapons, but she saw the muscles in his arms and legs as he moved and knew that he
    might not need any.
    He stopped about a foot from her bed, never taking his pale blue-eyed gaze from hers. Millie said
    nothing as a truly sick person wouldn’t be all that chatty, and waited. When the man did speak, it was with
    Scandinavian-accented English. “You’re awake. Good, that means I can feed you.” He pointed behind him, toward the door. “There’s a shower across the hall. Use it if you like, while I get you something to eat. Do you think you can do that?”
    She resisted a frown. This man was playing the role of nursemaid, not that of a guard. Whatever the
    reason for it, a shower couldn’t hurt. “Yes.”
    The red-haired man nodded and walked away, but he stopped at the door and said, “Oh, and if you try
    to escape, be aware that I shoot to kill.” He disappeared down the hall, leaving the door open behind him.
    Well, hell, that made things interesting.
    Keeping up her ruse of being an invalid, she sat up slowly before trudging across the hall to the shower.
    After locking the bathroom door and making sure there wasn’t any surveillance equipment in the room, she
    shucked her clothes, turned on the shower, and stepped under the hot spray of water.
    Millie closed her eyes, the warmth helping to clear the cotton from her mind, and she tried to think of
    how she could escape. It was unlikely that the red-haired man was working alone. She needed to find out
    how many accomplices he had guarding the perimeter, as well as their watch patterns, so she could look for weaknesses and pounce on them later.
    After her shower, she would focus on taking better inventory of her nursemaid. Small things, like if he
    was right or left-handed, could be useful.
    But most of all, she wanted to find out why she was here and if Kiarra’s brother had anything to do with
    it.

    Cam kept her head angled so the stupid floppy hat she was wearing shielded her face from view while
    allowing her to keep an eye on her surroundings. The tour group she’d joined had been traipsing around
    Chichen Itza for the last hour, but they were finally approaching the section of the Mayan ruins she wanted to see—the observatory.
    The observatory building sat atop a high but not quite square stone platform with another large
    rectangular stone platform underneath it. Stairs led up the two stone platforms to the tiered wedding cake-shaped structure that looked like someone had cut diagonally across the top layers with a jagged knife and taken away the left half. Inside the