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now?”
    At least that added a small twinge of humor to her sadness. She’d listened to Fernando rant and rave against that all summer long. It’d been his sore spot the way she couldn’t stand how some people left their shopping buggies in the middle of the aisle so that no one could get past them. Rudeness always set her off.
    “No, sweetie. There’s absolutely nothing in the Mayan culture or writings to suggest the world will end this year. Like the Cherokee and other natives, they have a cyclical calendar system, and the fourth cycle ends on the 21st, but they never once wrote anything about it being apocalyptic.”
    Fernando would be so proud to know that she’d actually been listening to his tirades. That thought caused pain to lacerate her heart as she finished Fernando’s diatribe in honor of him. “That was a distortion made back in the days when we could only read about thirty percent of the Mayan glyphs … if that much. Then back in the nineties when everyone was terrified of Y2K, some scholars repeated the old misconception and cashed in on it. So don’t start giving away your personal effects. You’ll be needing them on the 22nd and whatever you do, don’t forget to buy something for your mother and abuela for Christmas. They’d be very upset at you.”
    He let out a sound of supreme aggravation. “So the date’s not important to the Mayans at all?”
    “Yes and no. They’d think of it the same way we throw parties on December 31st and why we partied like it was 1999. It’s the end of an era for them, and the beginning of a new one. But other than tossing down a few drinks, or taking a few heads as the Mayans were prone to do, it’s no cause for alarm.”
    “Unless you’re one of the heads they have their eyes on.”
    She laughed. “Exactly.”
    Enrique sighed like he was disappointed that time would carry on. “Well, damn. I better pay my light bill when I get home. I was hoping I could let it slide.”
    Before she could comment, a new voice interrupted them. “I wouldn’t rush home if I were you. The world may yet come to a bad ending.”
    Kateri sucked her breath in sharply at the thickly accented male voice that intruded on their conversation. Neither Spanish nor Indian, his accent was more a soft blending of the two. One that made the deep rich timbre sound exotic.
    Frowning, she looked past her assistant to find what had to be one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen in the flesh. He’d paused just inside the doorway so that he could watch them. Though she doubted he was much over average height, if that, he had an aura so powerful that it seemed to fill the entire room. It was the raw intensity of someone used to being worshiped and feared … most likely at the same time.
    Dressed entirely in black, he wore his thick ebony hair pulled back into a ponytail. He pinned her with a stare so unsettling, it made her hands shake. There was something about him. Magnetic and scary, it set fire to the very air around them.
    It literally sizzled.
    His skin the same color as a perfect piece of caramel, he moved with the feral lope of an accomplished predator. Even though his gaze never wavered from hers, she had the distinct impression that he could see everything around him.
    For that matter, she wouldn’t be surprised if he could see behind his back, too.
    “Why would you say that, Mister…” She dragged the word out, hoping he’d fill in the missing detail.
    Luckily, he took the hint as he closed the gap between them. “Verastegui, Kukulcan Verastegui. But most people refer to me as Cabeza.”
    The way he said his full name, she could almost taste something sweet and luscious … like warm cocoa.
    Except one thing destroyed the image. The fact that she knew what his nickname stood for. “They call you … Head? Why?”
    One corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile that was both amused and threatening. “Pray that you never find out.”
    Her gaze dropped to the gold ring on