Intent on solving an archeological mystery, Grace Peters heads to New Mexico hoping to rediscover an extraordinary petroglyph from the Ice Ages. The ancient rock carving of a Shaman is rumored to be hidden somewhere in the high desert.
Matt Shije, a sexy, enigmatic Pueblo man, is the only person who knows where it is. Curious about a woman who is so passionate about prehistoric cultures that are not her own, he agrees to take her to the ancestral rock markings.
As they hike to the isolated site, the magnetism between them leads to explosive attraction. But Matt has secrets—secrets that could doom their growing love. Will he deny his heart to preserve his freedom?
Matt drew Grace deeper into the sheltering overhang. “We should be safe here.”
Kneeling, he shrugged off his backpack and urged her to do the same. She did, grateful to be able to stop and catch her breath. They were both soaked through, but the floor of the shallow cave was relatively flat and dry.
They sat with their backs against the rock wall, protected from the wet onslaught. The rain poured down over the ledge. Through the sheets of water, she could make out the bottom of the canyon. The once dry arroyo was a swiftly moving, churning river, so swollen it nearly engulfed the tree they’d been sitting under just minutes ago. The raging river dragged down bushes and boulders. Her heart hovering in her throat, she realized she could have drowned down there, her body tossed among that roiling debris. Matt had saved her life.
The intimate contact with the dangerous natural world made her feel tiny and powerless. She shivered, cold and wet and frightened. A new perception stunned her. Stone Age man—the people she studied—were always at the mercy of nature. A snowstorm, a wild animal, a crevasse, a disease. No wonder ancient man resorted to magic and shamans to control the uncontrollable. For the first time in her life, she had a connection—an emotional one, rather than an intellectual one—to the Paleolithic people.
Right now, at this very moment, she experienced something akin to spirituality. It scared her.
She glanced over at Matt. His cowboy hat glistened with rain. His shirt was soaked, clinging to his chest. Yet he was calm, unrattled by the violent temperament of the high desert. He was fascinating—spiritual but strong, kind but fearless. He was a man at home with nature, in all its forms. Despite having so little in common, she liked and respected him. Maybe a lot.
“You know what I like to do when I’m anxious?” she said. “I do puzzles. The ones with a thousand pieces.”
“I do, too,” he said. “The more complicated the better.”
Soon, they discovered other commonalities. Some character traits were fundamental, like loyalty, frugality, and curiosity. Once they figured that out, they stopped keeping score.
Thunder fractured the air above them.
She flinched, overcome by another surge of vulnerability.
“We’re okay,” he said, pulling closer to her. He draped his arm around her shoulders and gave the top of her head a kiss.
His unbearably gentle touch sent flashes of fire to her pelvis, followed by a hazy heat. It would be a bad idea to act on those feelings. No matter how sexy and intriguing he was, she wanted him as a friend, not a lover.
