“Henry, I don’t care where we live.” She took the flowers from his hand and brought them to her nose to smell.
She did it so casually, like she hadn’t just said something extraordinary.
“Does that mean you’ll marry me?” he asked.
“I will insist on our own sleeping tent, Mr. Gaiman,” she said, settling her hands on his shoulders while still holding the flowers in one hand.
He rested his hands on her hips and gazed into her brown eyes. “That won’t be a problem, Miss Tucker.” He lowered his head. She smelled of sunshine and wind and the flowers he’d purchased. When she didn’t move away, he closed his eyes and kissed her.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled her closer. Her mouth yielded to his, and he deepened the kiss. They were engaged, truly engaged, and he wasn’t going to play any more games with her.
She released the flowers as she moved her fingers along his neck and into his hair. The red petals floated to the ground, puddling at their feet, but Henry didn’t care. He kissed her until they both had to catch their breath, and as she caught hers, he kissed her jaw, then her neck. He’d never felt skin so soft.
“I’ll also need tahini each day with supper,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “What else, my love?”
“Flowers,” she murmured.
“Anything.” Henry found her lips again and kissed her anew. She fit perfectly in his arms, and he hoped that she’d be content to marry in Egypt. He didn’t have the patience to travel to another country. As of now, he didn’t want to stop kissing her. The sooner they were married, the more proper their engagement could be.
Someone clapped, and Henry startled. He drew away from Evelyn. She turned as well, keeping one hand on his arm.
Percy and Lillian Worthen were walking toward them, both smiling broadly. Not too far behind came Mrs. Tucker and a few others, including Mr. Purdie and the Joneses.
“It’s about time, my friend,” Percy called out. “I take it she said ‘yes’ for real this time.”
Henry couldn’t form a response.
“When I told Lillian about our conversation on the boat, she insisted that we find out what transpired,” Percy said, patting Lillian’s hand that she’d hooked on his arm. “So, what’s the news?”
Henry cleared his throat, sure that his face was a bright red. Hadn’t he’d made a spectacle enough of his life, and now all of these people were here to witness him kissing Evelyn?
Before he could speak, Evelyn did it for him. “I’ve said yes.”
“Wonderful!” her aunt said. “I was wondering how long it would take the two of you to figure things out.”
“Aunt Margaret,” Evelyn started, her tone disbelieving. “I thought—”
“Never mind what you thought, my dear.” Her aunt moved toward Evelyn and kissed her cheek.
Evelyn released Henry and embraced her aunt.
Henry met Lillian Worthen’s gaze and found only amusement in her eyes.
“You are certainly an interesting man, Henry Gaiman,” she said, holding out her hand to him.
He took her hand and shook it. He was confused, but appreciative.
“Percy and I decided that if you were man enough to propose to Evelyn here, then I would continue as the benefactress to the excavation,” Mrs. Worthen said. “I can’t in good conscience have Evelyn living out of a tent, surrounded by men all the time. You’ll be able to keep your apartment in Cairo, and the two of us will become great friends. Of course, her aunt is welcome to stay as long as she wants, too.”
Henry was astounded.
“Oh, won’t you stay, Aunt Margaret?” Evelyn gushed.
“For a while, my dear,” she said, patting Evelyn’s hand.
As the conversation buzzed around them and more and more plans were made, Henry couldn’t quite believe his good fortune. He was grateful for his friends’ forgiving hearts, both new and old, and most of all, he was grateful that he’d found such a woman as Evelyn.
When she slipped her hand in his and linked their fingers, he wished he could be alone with her yet again. To hold her in his arms, to kiss her, to cherish her. But he knew that would come soon enough. First, they had an ancient temple complex to explore.
“Would you like to hear about Cleopatra and her son Ptolemy?” he asked Evelyn. “There’s a carving of them both just around this corner.”
She squeezed his hand, meeting his gaze with her dark eyes. In them, he saw a satisfactory gleam. “I would love to.”
Click on the covers to visit Heather’s Amazon Author Page:
Heather B. Moore is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical thrillers under the pen name H.B. Moore; her latest are Slave Queen and The Killing Curse. Under the name Heather B. Moore, she writes romance and women’s fiction, latest include Love is Come and Delilah’s Desserts. Under pen name Jane Redd, she writes the young adult speculative Solstice series. Heather is represented by Jane Dystel.
Heather’s email list: hbmoore.com/contact.
Website: HBMoore.com
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Blog: MyWritersLair.blogspot.com
Twitter: @HeatherBMoore
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