Into the Wild by Beth Ciotta

hopefullyhe’d be away long enough to give her a decent head start. She employed her moderate acting skills and summoned her weakest, shakiest voice. “If it’s too much trouble—”
    â€œNo trouble.”
    Old-fashioned sensibilities. Even though he was a money-grubbing, fame-seeking bastard, he still felt compelled to look after the so-called weaker sex.
    She rolled her eyes. She was stronger than any man had ever given her credit for.
    After promising to hurry— great —Spenser disconnected.
    River waited until she heard his door open and shut, until his footsteps faded down the hall, then she sprung into action. Since the front desk had her credit card information, she checked out over the phone, although she lied and said she’d leave within a couple of hours. Try a couple of minutes. She dressed quicker than a tardy bride, doused herself with insect repellent then pulled on an insulated rain slicker. The skies were overcast and the temperature would drop when they hit the mountains. Just in case, she shoved gloves into her deep pockets along with her pliable waterproof camera case. Dressed for inclement weather and a rugged expedition, she hauled her duffel and camera bag onto the same balcony she’d climbed over last night. Her heart pounded as she waited for her ride. She wasn’t doing anything illegal, but it sure felt like it. The longer she waited, the greater her anxiety. She was about to embark ona journey with a stranger and who knew who’d they’d encounter along the way.
    Beware of the hunters.
    She flashed on a traveler’s tip: Don’t keep all your important documents in one place.
    She knew that. Of all things to slip her mind!
    River hurriedly rooted through her sling pack and redistributed credit cards, cash, passport and travel documents between her camera bag, duffel and sling. Her heart pounded as she nabbed Henry’s journal. So much “data” in one place.
    She heard an engine, the crunch of tires on gravel.
    Although it felt like she was defacing the Bible, River ripped the remaining half of the treasure map from Henry’s journal. She folded and slid it, along with his letter and her favorite family photo, into the baggy and tucked them inside her bra. She zipped the journal inside a pocket in her camera bag just as a mud-caked vehicle (was that a Hummer?) turned up her side street and parked across from her balcony. Confident she’d taken appropriate precautions, River prepared to drop her bags over the side. Her guide was a big, strapping man. He could handle it. She just hoped she could handle him.
    Tall, Dark and Cocky eased out of his he-man vehicle and winked up at her. “G’day, River.”
    G’day? Sure. Unless Spenser caught up with her or unless Mel messed with her or unless she got bit by a mosquito. Then it would be a bad day. “Hope you’re as strong as you look,” she called down, then heaved her duffel over the balcony.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    R IVER SUPPRESSED THE URGE to whoop as she left Baños, and Spenser, in the dust. She’d asked her Aussie guide to haul ass. He’d complied, taking a shortcut to boot, and whisking them out of town in a heartbeat. He’d also held silent on the mad dash, which was fine by her. She wasn’t in a talkative mood. She was in a foul mood. Spenser’s betrayal had cut deep. Crazy, considering they barely knew each other. Crazy, considering she shouldn’t have trusted him in the first place, given his obsession with treasure and fame. Still, she was fuming.
    â€œIs that a Garmin Colorado?” Mel asked when she fished out her GPS unit.
    So much for blessed silence.
    â€œNice,” he said when she didn’t answer. “Not that you need it. I know where I’m going.”
    â€œGood to know,” River grumbled as she switched on the power. There was also a built-in GPS on the Hummer’s dashboard, but she felt better