Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (14 page)

I was quiet for a moment and then said, “I’m sensing there is more you’re not telling me.”

Amon looked away. “There is nothing that you need be concerned about. I will continue to tread very carefully so that you come to no harm. Speaking of that, you should rest now, Young Lily.”

“You’re tired, too,” I said quietly. “Won’t you sleep?”

Standing, Amon drew me to my feet and took a strand of my wet hair in his fingers. As he pulled it back from my face, he kissed my forehead—a gesture that surprised us both. “You need to sleep more than I, Nehabet,” he said as he took a step back.

“What does that mean?”

“In my language, a
nehabet
is a precious water lily found in an oasis, and this water lily”—he tapped my shoulder—“needs to rest.” When I started to protest, he shushed me with the tip of a finger on my upper lip. There is only one bed. My wish is for you to take it.”

With a nudge, he sent me off to the bedroom. As I closed the door, I saw him turn back toward the window and run a shaky hand through his hair.

It was early afternoon when I fell asleep, and by the time I woke it was already evening. The bedroom window was open and night air wafted in, cool and carrying the scents of river, desert flowers, and exotic spices. Cracking open the door, I found Amon asleep. His long form was bent unnaturally on the couch, the food on the table still untouched.

Wheeling the cart of cold food into the hall, I got on the phone and quietly ordered more and then knelt in front of Amon as I waited for the food to be delivered. His new hair covered his eyes, and after a moment of self-denial, I shut off the part of my mind that was normally in charge of things and gently brushed the hair out of his eyes with my fingertips. The warmth of this skin drew me, and I wanted to just sit near him to feel the radiance of it.

His full lips were softened in sleep, and I realized that what I was seeing was the man, not the sun god. There were two sides to him, both engraved upon the same solid coin. Each version was powerful, handsome, and commanding, but Amon the man, who was vulnerable, who doubted himself, who yearned to feel a connection with other people, was the one I was more attracted to.

It was all too easy to imagine him, sleepy, sultry, and warm, opening his arms to me, and me kissing him, slipping my hands into his hair as we passionately embraced. When the idea floated through my mind that I could easily come to fall for someone like him, I removed my hand and chided myself for getting lost in girlish fantasies. I didn’t know what had come over me and I wasn’t prone to rationalization, but I decided to give myself a break. This was the one time in my life I was going to allow myself to indulge in breaking the rules; if I wanted to fawn over a gorgeous man, no one was around to notice or care.

Still, my old way of thinking crept back in. Even if I ended up liking Amon enough to want to do something about it, what did that mean? We could never have a future together.

But he was attentive—not only to me but to others. Sunny—there was something special that happened when Amon turned up the wattage; it was almost like I couldn’t help being happy. Committed—how could a girl resist a guy who would give up his own desires and sacrifice himself to save others?

These traits along with many others cast a brilliant light upon the shadowy dream guy I’d first met. He disappeared and what was left was Amon. I could fall recklessly, dangerously, in love with a guy like him, but I couldn’t create a scenario in my mind where that kind of relationship ended up being anything other than heartbreaking. Of course, my parents wouldn’t approve of him unless he had a graduate degree or political aspirations.

The irony was that if I’d lived in Amon’s time, my parents couldn’t have hoped for a better match. He was a prince of Egypt, after all. Even without the power of the sun god, Amon had been going places. I wrinkled my nose, thinking that maybe he would have wed a sister, like the gods of old. Then again, perhaps he didn’t have one.

Regardless, I’d been granted a temporary reprieve from planning an entire future for myself, and I’d always be grateful to him for that. I hadn’t realized how heavy the weight of my structured life was until it was gone. Being with Amon made me feel like anything was possible. I no longer felt like the person called Miss Young, or Lilliana. With him, I was just Lily, or Young Lily. I liked being Lily much better.

There was a light knock at the door, so I set aside my reflections and opened it, allowing the server to bring in a new cart. He handed me a slip of paper to sign and then he was on his way. Amon woke as I was setting the food on the table.

“Are you coming?” I asked with a smile. “I have to confess, I think I’m ready for a feast.”

Cocking his head, he studied me with wide green eyes. “And what are you celebrating, Young Lily?”

Lifting a glass full of orange juice toward him, I said, “Possibilities. Let’s celebrate the unknown.”

Amon came forward and took a glass, filling it from the carafe. “To the unknown, then,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.

With relish, I filled my plate and didn’t even allow myself to think about the fat, carbs, or calories. If something was delicious, I made sure Amon tasted it. As he exclaimed over the chocolate cake I’d asked him to try, he nudged a plateful of an Egyptian dish he loved toward me and encouraged me to eat it with my fingers. Another dish we scooped up with sections of a thin, flavorful bread. When we’d tried everything, feeding each other bite after bite, Amon got on the phone and ordered everything else on the menu we hadn’t sampled yet.

We tried pizza together for the first time, and he loved the Margherita style the most. I introduced him to lobster and linguini, ice cream and Italian meatballs, steak tartare and spring rolls, and he had me taste a variety of local dishes. Some were similar to things he’d once eaten, while others were new creations.

Tasting every dish with Amon was an exhilarating experience. It felt decadent, adventurous, and, in a way, intimate. But above all else, it was fun. I realized then that I’d never actually feasted before in my life. Amon’s passion for food and for giving himself over to the simple pleasures of taste and textures was a big departure for me. I found myself wishing I’d done it sooner.

By the time we were finished, I groaned, having never in my life eaten so much. It was just after midnight, and I wasn’t sure if I should try to go back to sleep or watch a movie. I’d started to gather our dishes and place them back on the cart, when Amon gently wrapped his hand around my wrist.

Sliding his hand up my arm to my face, he pressed his palm against my cheek and said, “Hakenew, Lily.”

“That means ‘thank you,’ right?”

“It means a bit more than a simple thank-you. It is a term implying a deep sense of gratitude for another person. It is an expression of thankfulness for the enduring warmth and comfort one feels when in the presence of someone special. I do not thank you, Lily. I am thankful
for
you.”

“Oh.”

He continued “I have feasted many times, but I have never enjoyed it as much as this. My heart is lightened by being with you.”

Blushing, I murmured, “I enjoyed it, too.” Amon’s green eyes studied my face and then dropped to my lips as he came a step closer. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead, he pressed his forehead against mine. Our noses touched, but unfortunately his extremely kissable lips were nowhere near mine.

Drawing back, I sensed his regret as he took a few steps away from me. “Please rest a bit longer, Lily. I will return soon.”

With that, he was out the door and gone.

What did I do?
I wondered. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me in the same way I was to him. Maybe he just needed me and when he was done, he’d have no problem setting me aside.

Feeling insecure, an emotion I despised, and about a boy, a situation I’d never allowed myself to be in before, I berated myself for acting like a lovesick teen with an unrequited crush, reminded myself that I was above such things, and then headed to the bathroom to see if I had something stuck in my teeth. My teeth were fine, which left me vacillating between wondering why Amon wasn’t attracted to me and telling myself that I was too confident in my own skin to care.

Picking up my hairbrush, I noticed that my hair was different. On each side of my face, there were two streaks that were no longer the same color as the rest of my hair. I inspected the strands. It looked like I’d gotten chunky blond highlights. Starting at the roots, I trailed my fingers down the highlighted locks and then gasped when I realized that Amon had touched my hair in the exact place where the highlights were.

The fact that my new highlights were most likely due to Amon’s sun-god touch actually made me like them. My hair was now unique, very different from the Lilliana who lived in a penthouse suite in New York City.

This was a Lily with an adventurous streak, literally. This was a Lily who snuck out of the house. This was a Lily who ate things that tasted good instead of things that were good for her. I squared my shoulders and came to a realization. This was a Lily who deferred college for a year or two and traveled. And this was the kind of Lily who just might look like she deserved a hot Egyptian sun god for a boyfriend. I wet my hair again, applied some product, and scrunched it while I blew it out. With a curling iron, I twisted sections of my hair into loose curls, creating a bohemian style that reflected my mood. I was working on my makeup when I heard the room door open.

“Amon?” I called out.

“I am here, Lily.”

He entered the room with a man in a business suit who was obviously under his thrall. They both carried a bunch of shopping bags on each arm. After depositing them all on the bed, Amon thanked the gentleman, murmured a few words, and he left, happy as could be despite the fact that I was sure he hadn’t received payment for any of the items Amon was pulling from the bags. As he left, I spied the glint of gold on his name tag, and I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at his departing form. “You put a spell on the vice president of the hotel and made him schlep bags up here?”

Amon shrugged. “The store with women’s clothing was closed and he was the only one who could open it.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I gave him a look, but Amon ignored me and began plowing through the bags.

“I did not know which clothes would fit the best, so there are several different styles and sizes,” he explained.

“You know, even if the security cameras didn’t see you, he could get into a lot of trouble with his boss. He could even go to jail.”

Amon waved a dismissive hand. “Since you explained the camera on your phone to me, I have discovered how to disable them wherever we go. They are quite simple machines.”

“Okay, I’m just saying it might be best to lie low sometimes.”

Twisting to look at me, Amon asked with a puzzled expression, “You wish for me to lie down on the floor?”

“No. Never mind,” I said with a sigh.

Rifling through one of the bags, I found a button-down shirt and a pair of jeans much too large. Yanking the jeans from the bag, I held them up and raised my eyebrows with a smirk. “Wow, you really are a bad guesser.”

Amon looked up. “Those are not for you. They are mine.”

“Ah.” I handed him the jeans. After gathering a few more items, he started to leave, but then stopped and turned around.

“Your hair is different.”

“Yes, I noticed. Thanks for the highlights, by the way.” I pulled a blond curl away from my face and let it go. Dropping the bags with a heavy thud, Amon came closer and tentatively reached out his hand, but then he paused as if asking for permission. “It’s okay,” I said. “You can touch it. I like the streaks.”

Amon twisted a curl around his finger and gently pulled it straight. The tip of his finger brightened as he drew the curl out and I could actually see sunlit ripples travel down to the ends of my hair.

“It seems like where you touch my hair, it changes color.”

“Yes.” He watched the transformation with curiosity. “But I did not make it curl.”

“No. I did that myself.”