Love in the Jungle

By Livia Lang

Dr. Rose Stevens is shy, anxious, and a believer in following the rules. However, when a handsome college student on her excavation crew catches her eye, things change. He is hotter than the Guatemalan heat and makes it hard for her to think. She tries to ignore her blossoming feelings and focus on archaeology...because an attraction like that could ruin her career and Gabriel's future.

Gabriel Cano is a wisecracking former soldier who loves to fluster Rose. He wants nothing more than to see the redheaded professor relax and let her hair down. However, Rose blocks his advances at every turn and Gabriel is beginning to lose hope of seducing his sexy crush.

Things are at a stalemate when the excavation uncovers a long-lost Mayan tomb. Gold hunters are soon circling the site like vultures, and they are armed to kill. As things get dangerous, and there is more than treasure on the line, will Rose and Gabriel be able to hold on to each other? Or are there some rules that you can't break, no matter what?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Livia Lang
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393086352

Book preview

1

Ishould have studied Icelandic archaeology , Dr. Rose Stevens thought as she slapped the fifteenth bug off her body in the last ten minutes. But nooo, I had to pick the jungle. I thought I’d be climbing trees, chased by boulders, and get to wear an Indiana Jones hat. Instead, I’m being eaten alive.

She sighed and looked down the dirt path that was doing its utmost to qualify as a ‘road’. The bus was five hours late, and the heat of the sun was becoming unbearable. In theory, the bus was supposed to have arrived in the early morning, bringing a crop of field students from Guatemala City to her tiny field house north of Flores. Timetables never meant much in the Guatemalan countryside however, and what should have been a mildly uncomfortable morning at the bus stop had become a humid, terrible, long afternoon of waiting. The students were probably faring no better; few buses had air conditioning this far out in the jungle. The trip to her town was an overnight trek, and she had no doubt the undergrads would be tired, sticky, and grumpy by the time they were finally delivered to her.

They think they’re adults, but they always seem like such babies. At least one will be crying, and all of them will be whining, she said to no one in particular.

She tried to stretch her aching back as she fretted. The last thing she wanted was upset students before she even managed to get them into the field. They’d be complaining soon enough about the workload, and starting their fussing early wasn’t an attractive option.

She was sitting on the ground, as the bus stop was merely a bare patch of dirt next to the dirt road, designated by a single pole in the ground. There were no benches. Rose thought the pole had probably at one point held a tattered flag, long ago. But the heat from the dry season, combined with the wetness from the rainy reason, had destroyed any trace of it. The jungle had a way of making things melt into oblivion, which made it all the more difficult to be an archaeologist in this region.

There were other problems, of course – namely, the mining that had been stripping the countryside. The companies’ owners were wealthy men from Europe and South Africa, and they were destroying anything in their path to find gold, silver, and other expensive minerals. Officially, the company executives claimed they were adding jobs to a depressed economy. Unofficially, it was widely known they ran off slave labor and were bulldozing archaeology sites every day.

I’m glad I haven’t had to deal with them yet. Only bugs and snakes so far this year, she thought. I’m sure they’ll find me eventually, though.

As Rose once again tried to stretch her tired back muscles, a low mechanical grumble started to emanate from the jungle to her right. The small village she was using as a base camp sat on an acre of cleared land, but all around there were thick trees that hid whoever approached. The trees could not hide scent, however, and the pungent odor of burning diesel told Rose that the bus had finally arrived, probably in one piece.

Groaning and trembling, the old bus made its way from the tree line and creaked toward the bus stop. It had once been a school bus, but for reasons unknown had been converted into the sole vehicle that made a weekly trek this far out into the countryside. It had been painted white to try and hide its origin, but that was peeling off to reveal the bright yellow underbelly of the bus.

As soon as the bus stopped, which happened very quickly, as it had barely been moving in the first place, its door was flung open and a noisy crowd started rushing out. The sudden activity made birds take flight from the surrounding trees.

First off the bus was the village’s tienda owner, Maria. A diminutive old lady with long graying hair, she hopped off the last step with a nimbleness that Rose envied, all while carrying a large, bulging burlap sack. The bag was nearly as big as Maria herself, and no doubt held cereal, candy bars, and soda – little luxuries that Rose would want to go and buy for herself, before the town’s children picked the store clean.

After already being in the field for nearly two months, Rose didn’t mind having to shower outside, and she actually liked not having to worry about social media or email. The one thing she did miss, however, was breakfast cereal. It held a childhood comfort that she couldn’t do without.

Did you get my Chocolate Crunch? she called to Maria in Spanish, eyebrows raised in expectation.

I’m not that old! I don’t forget things yet, Maria called back, hefting the huge bag onto her back like it weighed nothing and setting off toward the village square. Maria had quickly figured out Rose’s weakness for sugary cereal, and took special effort to supply the archaeologist with her treats.

The next off the bus was Carlos, Rose’s co-director and long time friend. A clean shaven man in his fifties, with a thick head of salt and pepper hair, Carlos had run the very first dig Rose had worked on in graduate school. He had taken the eager, anxious bookworm under his arm, letting her ask him endless questions as she followed him around camp with a clipboard and recorder. Now, ten years later, she had almost become his equal in knowledge of the Mayan region.

Carlos! Good to see you!

He embraced her tightly in greeting, before kissing each cheek.

"Mia, it’s been too long. I look forward to this moment every year! I can’t wait to start the season with you. He paused and looked back at the bus with a slight frown. I picked up those students and brought them like you asked. What is the saying in English…it is like grouping birds?"

Rose chuckled. Like herding cats. And nothing describes a team full of undergrads better.

Don’t be too hard on them. I remember a certain young archaeologist who hardly knew how to hold a trowel when she started working, he replied with a grin, giving her a paternal wink.

Rose groaned at the memory. She had been a history major in undergrad, spending all of her time safely inside libraries