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appearance was deceptive, however. Even from beneath those half-lowered lids she could see intensity gleaming in his eyes. As they approached, he shoved out a chair with his foot and gave Jillian a look that had about as much in common with the looks from the men at the bar as a shark had in common with a trout. The men at the bar might have speculated, but they kept their thoughts to themselves. This man, in his mind, already had her stripped, spread-eagled, and penetrated, and didn't care if she knew it.
    "Well," he drawled. "Hello there, sweetcakes. If you aren't taken, why don't you sit down over here by me?" He nodded at the chair he had just kicked out.
    Now that they were closer, Jillian could see that his eyes were either blue or green; it was difficult to tell which in the dim light. He was darkly tanned, but his jaw had the freshly scraped look of a man who had just shaved. His hair was dark and too long, hanging over his collar at the back of his neck and almost touching his shoulders. His clothes, though clean, were badly wrinkled and well worn; he had the unselfconscious air of a man who didn't give a damn how his clothes looked.
    Without even a flicker of an eyelash to indicate that his blatant once-over had discomfited her, she pulled out her own chair and sat down, ignoring the one he had kicked out.
    "I'm Jillian Sherwood," she said in a cool tone, instinctively refusing to let him know that he had ruffled her. She wasn't even certain why he had bothered, since God and everyone else with eyes could see that she wasn't anything special. Some men, however, felt compelled to make a play for every woman who entered their vicinity.
    "Ah, hell. You're married."
    "She's my sister," Rick said. "This is Lewis, our guide."
    Ben lifted his eyebrows as he looked at her. "Sister? So why are you along?"
    Jillian's eyebrows mirrored his. Surely Rick and Kates had told him something about the expedition. Absently she noticed that Rick had been right about the southern accent. Aloud she said, "I'm the archaeologist."
    He gave her a pleasant smile that still managed to be dismissive. "You can't go," he said.
    Jillian remained cool. "Why not?"
    Mild surprise reflected in his eyes, as if he hadn't expected a protest. He slowly sipped at his whiskey as he studied her. "Too damn dangerous," he finally said.
    Rick and Kates had both taken seats by then. Rick cleared his throat, and Ben looked at him. "It's not that simple," Rick said.
    "I don't see what's complicated about it. I don't take women inland. End of discussion."
    "Then it's evidently the end of your employment, too," Jillian murmured, her composure intact. She had met chauvinistic jerks like him before, and she wasn't about to get ruffled by this one.
    "Oh?" He didn't seem perturbed. "How's that?"
    "She has to go," Rick interjected, and scowled at his sister. This was a sore point with him. "She's the only one who knows where we're going."

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    Chapter 3
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    Ben looked unimpressed. "So she can tell us and then we'll all know, and she can toddle on back to the hotel like a good little girl and leave the rough stuff to us."
    "I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own weight," Jillian said calmly. "And the decision isn't yours whether I go or not. I'm going. All you have to decide is if you want the job or if someone else gets the money."
    Kates had said the same thing, but Ben realized Jillian Sherwood meant it. She didn't care if he backed out.
    He leaned forward and propped an elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his palm as he looked at her. "Sweetcakes, if you think this is going to be a romantic adventure, you're dead wrong. There's no way I'm taking a woman on a two- or three-month trek into that part of the jungle."
    She looked amused. "Protecting the little woman?"
    "You got it, honey. In my opinion, there isn't enough prime pussy in the world as it is, and a man needs to protect the supply."
    He was being deliberately crude, hoping she'd get