Authors: Cheryl Holt
“It’s dark out. How can you be sure of what
look
is in my eye?”
“I don’t require a lantern to see that you’re plotting mischief.”
“Why, Miss Webster, you already know me so well.”
He grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet, pulling her to him so the front of her body was pressed to the front of his.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“So? We’ll do it anyway. There’s no chaperone to prevent it.”
“Just because we don’t have a nanny, we can still follow our moral code.”
“I have no moral code,” he huffed.
“You liar.”
“I have a bit of one, but it never precludes me from dallying with a beautiful woman in the moonlight.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Again, Kat, let me remind you that there’s no one to tell us how to behave.”
“I don’t care about behaving. I simply wish I was freer.”
“Freer to…what?”
“To act however I please.”
“You
are
free, you silly goose. We’re alone and we’re in Egypt and whoever or whatever we were before we arrived, it doesn’t matter now.”
“If only that were true.”
“Trust me, it is,” he insisted.
She might have continued, but it was ridiculous to debate the issue.
They shared a potent attraction, and they were two healthy, red-blooded adults. There was no reason to practice restraint, except that she was his employer and he her employee. But he wouldn’t think about that. It was a night for romance, and it wasn’t as if they would fornicate on the deck. They would merely enjoy a very lush, very satisfying kiss.
Still though, there were porters on the beach and various servants finishing their chores. He couldn’t have rumors spread about her character or his intentions, although with how he constantly watched her—like a wolf on the hunt—gossip was probably already circulating.
He pushed away from the rail and stepped into the shadows, tugging her with him. He clasped her wrist, but not very tightly. She could have drawn away, but though she was hesitant, she came without protest.
“You’re horrid,” she whispered.
“Why? Because I don’t want the servants ogling us?”
“No. It’s because you make me eager to commit sins with you that I’ve never considered previously.”
“Well then, aren’t I lucky?”
He dipped down and kissed her as if he meant it, as if the world was about to end and they’d never be together again, as if he was the last man and she the last woman and no human beings would ever again have the chance.
She joined in with unbridled enthusiasm, her arms snaking around his waist, her shapely breasts crushed to his chest.
Those breasts—the nipples poking into him like shards of glass—were his undoing. A carnal madness swept through him, one that he’d never experienced prior. He wanted her so desperately, wanted to take her and have her and keep her, even though he hadn’t the resources to do any of those things.
He couldn’t hold her closely enough, couldn’t bring her near enough. He ran his palms up and down her back, over her shoulders and bottom. He plucked at the combs in her hair, tossing them away so the brunette tresses tumbled down.
He flicked his tongue on her lips, and instantly she understood what he was seeking. She opened wide and welcomed him inside. He thrust his tongue in and out, in and out, as down below, he worked his hips in the same rhythm.
She was still too far away, and he lifted her onto a pile of ropes. He raised the hem of her skirt so he could wedge himself between her thighs, the bunched fabric providing a soft cushion where he could flex his phallus against her loins.
Very quickly, the escapade spun out of control. He felt feral and untamed, possessed by a wild beast, and at that moment, mating was the primary goal. He craved a rough, angry copulation, and he was a hairsbreadth from ravishment, which frightened him very much.
Somehow he mustered the fortitude to ease himself away, to slow down, then stop.
What must she think? She was sprawled beneath him, gazing with astonishment—and a bit of alarm—and he couldn’t blame her. He was a tad alarmed himself. Obviously there were mysterious forces directing them, the universe furnishing a physical chemistry that needed very little spark to ignite. If they weren’t careful, they’d burn themselves to death.
“Oh, my,” she murmured.
“You’re dangerous.”
“
I
am dangerous. I was minding my own business when you started in.”
“It’s your own fault.”
“How could it be?”
“Apparently I can’t resist you.”
“You should try though. This seemed especially shocking.”
“Shocking, yes. I agree.”
She flashed a smile as old as Eve’s, and there was an enormous amount of jeopardy for him in that smile. It was a siren’s smile, a vixen’s smile, and it called to him in a manner that he was certain would lure him to his doom.
He straightened and stared down at her, wondering if he hadn’t been bewitched. He wasn’t normally superstitious, but if someone had strolled up and told him she’d cast a spell on him, he wouldn’t have doubted it.
She frowned. “What’s happening to us?”
“I can’t describe it, but it’s bizarre.”
“I think I like you more than I should.”
He tamped down a laugh. “Of course you
like
me. I’m the most likeable fellow in the world.”
“But I shouldn’t. I can’t.”
“You’re an adult, Kat. You can do what you like.”
They were nose to nose, their lips a short inch away from connection again, and in a thrice, they could be back in the throes of a serious embrace. Yet it was clear when he was around her, he couldn’t rein in his worst impulses. He had many carnal encounters under his belt, but he’d never been so thoroughly aroused, and he had no intention of becoming embroiled with a stranger in Egypt.
He planned to earn his salary, then purchase passage on the first ship heading for London. He couldn’t waste time in a torrid affair that might entangle him in exhausting ways.
Then and there, he decided it was the last kiss he’d ever share with her. He understood boundaries, understood class distinctions. While supposedly he’d been born an earl’s grandson, he’d never felt as if he was, and any aristocratic blood he’d once carried had been drummed out of him during the lonely life he’d led after his parents had vanished.
Whatever Kat’s actual identity, he was sure her position was very high. She couldn’t entangle herself either. She’d warned him, so it was pointless to consort with her and only heartache would result. And it would probably be on his part.
He liked women too much. He liked
her
too much, and he was positive he’d eventually learn she was untouchable and unattainable. That very second, she likely had an angry father or brother rushing to reclaim her, so he couldn’t be caught in a messy scandal.
But as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him near, he couldn’t see any reason not to kiss her again, except that someone said, “Kat?”
They froze, and Kat mouthed, “My sister.” She called, “Yes, Isabelle, what is it?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the shadows, gazing at the stars. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep. Would you lie down with me? Would you tell me a story about home?”
“Yes, I’d love to. You go down. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes. I’ll be right there.”
They waited, listening as her footsteps faded down the ladder. Bryce stepped away, concealing himself so he wasn’t observed as Kat walked off.
“You make me happy,” she whispered.
Then she left, and he dawdled like a fool, worried over what the hell he’d gotten himself into and how he’d ever get himself out of it. Why would he want to get himself out of it? He had no idea. He’d ride the adventure to the very end and hope he wound up someplace safe and sound.
Where would that be? He couldn’t imagine.
CHAPTER SIX
“What are you doing here, Katarina?”
“Hello, Uncle Cedric.”
Kat smiled at her uncle, trying to appear calm and composed, but he was staring at her so strangely she wasn’t sure what to think.
He’d been digging when they’d arrived, and his servants had made her comfortable while her porters had begun emptying the boats of their belongings. They were unpacking her boxes and trunks and setting up the tents she’d brought.
Cedric had been in Egypt for so many years that she’d thought he’d have built permanent structures by now, that he’d have a villa on the banks of the Nile much like Valois’s, but he hadn’t.
A bustling village had grown up around his endeavor, his tent large and spacious, the furnishings sturdy and comfortable, but it seemed very temporary as if he’d put down no roots and had to be able to pull up stakes at a moment’s notice.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
“Didn’t you get my letter?”
“Yes. Didn’t you get mine?”
“No. When you sent it, we must have already been en route, and I apologize that we’re early. We had the wind at our backs when crossing the Mediterranean.”
“This is a disaster.” His tone was angry and exasperated.
“Why?”
“I don’t want you here. What am I to do with you?”
His question was like a slap in the face.
In the weeks they’d been on the run, she’d refused to admit she might not be welcomed by her uncle. If a person was without a friend in the world, and she couldn’t turn to her family for help, who could she turn to?
“You don’t mean that,” she murmured.
“I most certainly do. I wrote and told you to stay in Parthenia. I told you to ride out the storm, that it would blow over.”
“It didn’t.”
“It is your brother’s throne, and possession is nine-tenths of the law. So long as he was in the palace, people would see him and remember how he’d been maltreated. It would have been corrected eventually.”
“You’re totally wrong.”
“I’m not, and now you’ve sneaked away like a thief in the night. How can you hope to recoup what is rightfully his when you’re hiding in the desert?”
“How would I have regained the throne for him? With what army would I have accomplished it? Who would have fought for us? Not anyone, that’s who.”
“There must have been someone,” he insisted.
“There wasn’t. We were stripped of our titles and rank. My parents’ marriage was declared null and void. My siblings and I were labeled illegitimate bastards, and you feel we should have remained there? Is there any other indignity we should have suffered? Is there another humiliation I should have allowed them to level against us?”
They were in his tent, just the two of them sequestered and alone. Bryce had tried to join her, but she’d had to speak with Cedric first, to tell him to keep their identities secret. She hadn’t anticipated scolding and disavowal, and his disdain was too much to bear.
She sank down in a nearby chair, and her eyes filled with tears, but she was too proud to let them fall. In her journey to Egypt, he’d been like a beacon on a hill, a lantern shining in the darkness, showing her the direction to travel. To her uncle. To her mother’s brother. To her sole relative who was close enough to assist.
“My mother was your only sister,” she chided. “What they did to us, they did to
her
memory and legacy. Don’t you care?”
“Yes, I suppose I care, but I’m not surprised. I begged her not to wed your father.”
“Why not?”
“We weren’t royalty. We were merely the American children of a rich textile mill owner, and your mother had no patience for folderol and posturing. She was the least likely female to succeed as a queen.
And
your father didn’t love her.”
She cut him off. “Don’t say that.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true. He married her for her dowry. I thought you knew.”
“He married her because she was kind and devoted and beautiful.”
Her uncle shrugged. “Believe what you will, but I warned her it would end in disaster. Now it has.”
Her temper was sparking. She was weary and aggrieved and absolutely furious to have her fears discounted yet again. By her own kin no less! “Father’s oldest friend whispered in my ear that Nicholas was in danger, that I should whisk him away from Parthenia.”
“You’re being ridiculously melodramatic.”
“What if I’m not? What if Nicholas had been poisoned or
accidently
drowned in a river or perhaps kicked in the head by a horse? Would that have been all right with you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Of course not,” she muttered back at him.
She glared, showering him with regal derision, and apparently he was capable of some shame.
He flushed and glanced away, going over to a table where there were several liquor decanters, and she watched as he poured himself a tall glass.
He was a short, slender man of sixty, tanned from his years toiling in the hot sun. His skin was peeling and cracked, his blond hair silvered to white. He was bald on top, but he hadn’t been barbered so the sides were long and stuck out at odd angles. He looked like a mad scientist about to attempt a hazardous experiment.
She searched his features for a hint of resemblance to her glamorous, stunning mother, but she couldn’t find it. And clearly he and her mother had no similar character traits.
Her mother had been considerate and compassionate, a wonderful queen, and Kat didn’t care what Cedric said about her. As to her father, he’d adored Kat’s mother.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She pushed herself to her feet. “It’s too late to depart this afternoon, so we’ll have to stay tonight. I’m afraid there’s no other choice, but we’ll leave at dawn.”
He noted the contempt in her gaze and, obviously anxious to redeem himself, he grumbled, “No, no, there’s no need to go. Not at once anyway.”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your important…
work
.”
She imbued the word
work
with all the scorn she could muster. It had been a family joke that he dug and dug and dug and never found anything. Either he was very bad as an archeologist or he had no luck at all.
She’d hit a soft spot, and he declared, “My project is vital.”