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why they are called fire snakes. Some scholars think the flames represent fifty-two-year cycles."
    Terri measured out her breath slowly, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. It was well nigh impossible to think about the calendar stone when he was sitting so close to her, smelling so deliciously of a musky after-shave—the world-famous writer and respected scholar. But it wasn't his scholarship that was making her chest feel as if it were collapsing.
    "Amazing, isn't it?" Dark eyes gazed down on her. Could he sense the disturbing emotions he was rousing in her? Undoubtedly.
    "It's almost as if they were obsessed with time." Her words came out unevenly, and a vein throbbed achingly in her temple.
    "An astute observation."
    She brushed at a few toast crumbs on the sheet, aware that he was watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye. The papers held in his hand crackled. "These holes on the edge held horizontal sticks that projected their shadows on the figures of the calendar. The stone was also used as a sun dial."
    She continued to nod, wishing he would end this exquisite torture. He was so solid, so masculine, so full of a dark, mysterious force that seemed to reach out to Terri, calling to the deep throbbing in her blood. He affected her in ways that she had never felt with any other man, and she despised him for it! She wanted only to finish this assignment and go home. She realized suddenly that he was still talking, saying something that she had not heard. He was looking at her curiously.
    "There is something you don't understand?"
    How true! thought Terri, trying to appear studiously intent upon the article he held in his hand. She said the first thing that drifted into her mind. "You admire the Aztecs very much, don't you?"
    "Of course," he said, as if he were thinking, "doesn't everybody? Their knowledge of astronomy and mathematics was amazing for the era in which they lived."
    "Yet you could hardly call them civilized!" For some reason she felt a need to disagree with him—about anything.
    "Oh?" He paused, the knowing eyes caressing her face, her tousled hair, the hollow at the base of her neck. When his gaze returned to her flushed face, he shrugged. "It depends on your idea of what is civilized, I suppose." He made a sudden movement and she started violently the second before she realized he only intended to lay the folded article on the bedside table. Oh, why was she behaving like such a shrinking violet? She wished for the earth to open and swallow her.
    He grinned devilishly. "What is your definition of civilized, Terri?"
    "You're making fun of me, aren't you!" How dare he look at her with that suggestive leer.
    "Not at all. I'd like to know what you think. We ought to get to know each other better since we will be working so closely for some time."
    "Well, I certainly wouldn't call a society based on human sacrifice civilized!"
    "Ah, yes, there's that one thing."
    "That one thing! Tearing out people's hearts while they're still alive—" She was almost overcome with feeling. "How can you admire a culture that engaged in such acts?"
    His grin broadened. He was enjoying her disgust! "There are those who say they particularly liked to sacrifice virgins." He shifted so that his hand rested lightly against her sheet-covered leg. Was it accidental? "Fortunately, the Aztecs are no longer in control in Mexico." She was staring at his hand, but she could feel his eyes burning into her and realized suddenly the mocking implication in his last remark. A long, silent moment spun out between them, a moment vibrating with possibilities. She could not bring herself to meet his look. "But," he went on after a moment, "you must see the Aztecs in their own environment. This is a harsh land. Life—especially in those days—was precarious at best. Precarious and short. The sacrifices were a desperate attempt to gain a reprieve from whatever gods that be. Generally, the Aztecs had a sensible attitude toward