“Pete,” she said against his mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t…”
Yeah, he shouldn’t either. He was gonna have the mother of all wet dreams on his hands when he woke up, but who the hell cared anymore?
His fingers found the hem of her sweatshirt, and he pushed it up, ran his hands along the smooth skin of her back, around to her ribs. She drew a breath at the slight touch, let it out. Whatever protest had been on her sweet, tempting lips faded as she kissed him back.
His erection sprang to life. He clutched her hips and pulled her tight against him. That sexy purr coming from somewhere deep inside her turned to an achy mew he knew from experience meant she was as desperate for him as he was for her.
He deepened the kiss, knew he’d never last if she kept rubbing up against him like she was doing, if she didn’t lose those clothes and set his pounding arousal free, climb on top of him and take him right here, right now.
Hell, he didn’t even care that in this twisted fantasy he was lying on a cold cement floor, that his head was still throbbing from a monster hangover or that his toes were nearly numb. All he cared about was getting her naked and burying himself inside her until that hot sweet scent of hers surrounded him and she screamed his name and came with a ferocity that…
Wait. He could smell her.
Time seemed to stand still as the impact of that realization plowed into him.
His heart ratcheted up a notch. She continued to kiss him while he went cold all over.
In all his delirious fantasies about being with Kat again—the ones he’d never cop to, no matter what—he’d always been able to see her, to feel her, even to taste her to some degree. But never, not once in all the times he’d had this recurring dream, had he ever been able to smell her.
Now he could.
She was also on fire. Like liquid heat against his skin where she burrowed closer to him.
You couldn’t smell dreams, and they sure as hell weren’t warm.
Confused, caught between a dream state and reality, he gripped her arms, pushed her back and squinted to look up into a face he’d never expected to see again in this lifetime.
“Kat?” He croaked out the word, didn’t dare move as those wide, molten chocolate eyes ran over his features.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “It’s me.”
No way.
He bolted, not sure what was happening. All he knew for certain was his kinky sex fantasies had never taken this detour into insanity before. He scrambled from the floor and was nearly knocked over by a wave of nausea that made him grip the door handle again to keep from falling to his knees.
She was up and next to him before he could catch his bearings. “I know how this looks, but if you just give me a minute, I can explain.” She sounded frantic. A little scared. And completely wigged out.
Holy fuck. That made two of them. “What the…” The pounding hit his skull again with the force of a jackhammer, and he pressed his fingers against his temples. “This isn’t real,” he muttered to himself as he gave his head a strong shake. “Can’t be real. I’m hung over. Really hung over. That or I’ve got a brain tumor.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “MRI. That’s it. I need a goddamn MRI.”
She reached out for him. “Let me—”
He flinched and jerked away from her hand. If she touched him again he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to think straight. And right now he really needed to clear his damn head so he could figure out just what the hell was going on.
She dropped her arm like he’d burned her, reached up with one hand to wrap her fingers around a pendant of some kind hanging from her neck. “The least you can do is listen to what I have to say, Pete. Believe me, I wouldn’t have dragged you into this if there was any other way.”
He barely heard her words but registered the bite. Though at that moment the only thing he could focus on was the charm hidden in her fist.
He pushed her hand away and fingered the silver medal between her breasts.
St. Jude. Patron saint of lost causes. Kat had always worn it. Never took it off. And the sudden memory of that medal falling against his chest as they made love was as vivid and real as the warm and solid weight now in the palm of his hand.
His eyes shot to her face.
She was real. This was happening, and, holy hell, she was alive.
The world fell away. He let his instincts rule his body. In a move so fast she gasped, he grabbed her hard, pulled her tight against his chest and kissed her with everything he had in him.
“Kit-Kat,” he mumbled against her lips.
But as quickly as the joy and elation erupted inside him, it fizzled and died.
She was alive. Had been all this time and hadn’t tried to contact him. Not once in six years. Not when he’d blamed himself for what had happened or bawled like a baby over her death or wished like hell he could trade places with her. No, instead of finding him like he would have done if the situation had been reversed, she’d been living somewhere else, healthy and happy and obviously…whole.
He broke the kiss, pushed her to arm’s length and stared down at her. “You’re alive? After all this time? You’re…alive?”
Her muscles went rigid beneath his hands. “I know this is hard for you to grasp, but I have reasons for everything I’ve done. I didn’t plan any of this tonight. I didn’t plan for you…”
She looked down at his shirt and closed her mouth.
Plan this. Tonight.
Her words ricocheted around in his head as his memory came back in a rush. And with it, reality formed a knot in the pit of his stomach.
“You were at the auction house. You’re the woman I saw in the crowd.” The one he’d chased after like a lovesick fool.
“I—I’d hoped you hadn’t seen me.”
Hadn’t seen her? He dropped his arms. That knot twisted. His brain skipped ahead, flashed on Maria’s mouth against his in the limo, how they’d tumbled to the floor and he’d looked up into the rearview mirror to see eyes that were the same exact color and shape as the ones he was staring into now.
“And in the limo. Was that you, too?”
She nodded slowly. “After I saw them, I just needed five minutes to talk to you. I swear that’s all I wanted, but then everything went to hell and back and,” she threw up her hands, “then I didn’t have a choice.”
A choice?
He suddenly didn’t like where this was heading. This wasn’t the reunion he’d always fantasized about.
Kat tensed, obviously reading his expression. “Before you go getting those half-cocked ideas of yours—”
“Half-cocked ideas?” he snapped. “You’re alive and yet you couldn’t once pick up a goddamn phone and call to let me know you hadn’t died in a car bomb in Cairo after all? What, did it slip your mind?”
His headache took that opportunity to stab him right in the middle of his forehead. He slammed his eyes shut, pressed his fingers to his temples and bent over at the waist to ease the throb. “Son of a bitch.”
“Oh, Pete.” She rushed toward him. “Don’t pass out on me. I can’t handle that again. I don’t even know how much they gave you.”
“Gave me? What the hell are you talking about?”
She stopped inches from touching him with a nervous look in her eyes. “I…um…” When he raised his head to stare at her, she lifted her arms and finally dropped them on a sigh. “A sedative. I don’t know how much you got, but you’ve been out cold for the last five hours.”
He eased up slowly. “Whoa. Wait. Are you saying you drugged me?”
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it quickly without answering.
That was when it all hit him. The auction, the limo, the dark, the cold, and her here alive, alone in this room. She hadn’t sought him out. She’d been at the auction for another reason entirely, and something had happened there to force her into ambushing him. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d obviously been playing him from the moment he thought
she’d died. Maybe even before that.
And wasn’t that just fucking ironic?
At that moment, with his head pounding and his stomach weak, he didn’t give a flying fuck what she wanted from him or why she’d brought him here. All he could think was that she’d been alive all this time while he’d been…half dead inside.
“I’m outta here.”
He moved back out the door he’d stumbled into, ignoring the shock that flashed across her face. Light from the room behind him poured into the garage, highlighting the limo and the wall of tools on the far side.
“Pete, wait.”
Yeah, right. Not in this lifetime. Not ever again.
He headed for the massive door on the far wall. Footsteps echoed behind him as he fumbled with the lock, but he didn’t turn, didn’t look at her. Tried like hell not to think of her.
A wave of snow blasted across his face when he managed to get the door open. He held up his hands to block the biting wind, took a few tentative steps out into the snow.
Where was he? No city lights twinkled in the distance. His dress shoes sank into eight inches of powder. He stumbled.
The darkness and never-ending flakes slapping his face made it impossible to see, but the rational side of his brain said if there was a garage—wherever he was—then there had to be a house. And houses had phones.
“Pete! Please come back inside. You’ll freeze out there!”
As juiced as he felt, he didn’t think it was possible to freeze. And no way in hell was he going back in there with her.
Okay, this was stupid.
Kat shivered in the cold air, wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to breathe.
How long had Pete been gone? Two minutes? Three? She couldn’t see him anymore, had no idea at this point which direction he’d gone. He was dressed in a tuxedo, for crying out loud. Considering the frigid temperatures, he wouldn’t last out there long, and he didn’t know where he was or where he was going. Besides all that, there was no way he could see in that blinding blizzard.
He’d figure that all out, right? There were no houses within miles of this property. Woods bordered the north side, pastures and farmland the other three. Common sense would tell him to come back to the warmth of the garage, wouldn’t it? Even with her there?
She gnawed on the end of her thumbnail, completely unsure what he would say or do next. In her head she rationalized this was a good thing. She finally had the golden pharaoh. He knew she was alive. If something happened to him now, well, at least he’d be partially prepared. He wasn’t her problem anymore. Never really had been, come to think of it.
Her traitorous heart, on the other hand, screamed this was bad news. He could die out there in the cold, or worse, escape and then be found by Busir. Either way, by bringing him with her tonight, she’d just signed his death certificate.
And wasn’t that a peachy thought? Everything she’d done the past six years meant nothing because he was too proud to give her five minutes of his frickin’ time.
She shook off the thought and told herself he’d be back. Once he discovered they were isolated and realized there was no one around to help but her, he’d have no other choice.
At least she hoped so.
She toyed with the medal at her chest. And stupidly thought of that kiss.
Hot came to mind. Reminiscent of the kisses he’d drugged her with in Cairo, but more urgent. Immediate. Her cheeks heated at just the memory. And like the fool she’d been back then, she’d fallen for it again tonight. Opened for him like a flower, sank into his body. Hadn’t even thought to fight it.
Twice!
Idiot.
Hadn’t she learned her lesson where he was concerned?
Kat stared out into the snow once more and finally gave in to common sense. She couldn’t leave the door open any longer. Every minute she did, the temperature in the building dropped in increments.
She flipped on the outside light so Pete could find the building in the snowstorm and closed the door. Then she backtracked into the apartment and cranked the furnace up higher, grabbed blankets from the closet and laid them by the register to warm. She went into the closetsized kitchen, found a teakettle and filled it with water.
Having something to do made her feel marginally better. When the water was on the stove heating, she went back to the door to the apartment she’d left open and leaned against the jamb while she waited.
Fifteen minutes passed. Twenty. No sound but the wind howling outside.
Where was he?
As a clock somewhere in the apartment ticked off the long seconds, she bit her lip. Toyed with her medal some more. And though she tried to fight it, couldn’t help but think of the way he’d looked at her tonight when he’d discovered she was really alive. Of the way he’d looked at her from the very beginning.
CHAPTER SIX
Six-and-a-half years earlier
Valley of the Kings
She’d been right. Peter Kauffman was trouble. The kind that came in flashing capital letters and needed a warning label slapped all over it.
Kat stared across the table of the dimly lit Italian restaurant as Pete talked about his business and felt the same electricity flow through her veins she’d been trying to tamp down the last few hours.
Hell, the last few days for that matter.
It wasn’t so much what he said—though she did enjoy hearing about his gallery in Miami and the buying trips that sent him all over the globe—it was the way he looked at her. With those smoldering eyes, like she was grade-A prime-cut beef and he was dying to sink his teeth in her.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She eased her hands under the damask tablecloth and wiped her sweaty palms on her black slacks like she’d done several times during the meal.
He really was gorgeous—all blond and tan and sexy in that white dress shirt and those charcoal slacks. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and those hips? Perfection. He was also so totally focused on her she wasn’t entirely sure he was real. She’d been wary at first, careful not to divulge too much about her work site just in case he was one of those treasure hunters the crew had warned her about, but he’d barely seemed interested in her dig. And a big part of her was relieved. She really didn’t want to get into the scandal surrounding her site and the artifacts that had been slowly disappearing the last few months. Instead he’d steered the conversation to her months in Cairo, her interests, what she did in her free time and what she wanted to do with her life.
And that was what really did her in. No one had ever seemed so genuinely interested in her before. Especially not an Adonis like him.
At some point she realized she needed to open her mouth and say something intellectual so she’d stop focusing on that sexy dimple in his cheek and the subtle curve of his lips. He’d been doing most of the talking, and it wasn’t going to take him long to figure out she was practically drooling. So she picked the one topic she knew would get her mind off hot, sticky, sweaty sex and what he looked like underneath those fancy clothes.
And regretted it minutes later when he only stared at her without responding.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Kat reached for her wineglass. “Not everyone’s as excited about Egyptian history as I am. Sorry.”
Pete chuckled, the sound so deep and rich, she was sure she felt the vibrations all the way across the table and into her toes. “You’re not boring me at all. I could listen to you talk all night long.”
She frowned, knowing he was simply playing her, and told herself not to read too much into his words. But when his grin widened and those damn eyes of his sparked, held on hers and dropped to her mouth, she wasn’t so sure anymore. There was definitely something happening between them. Something sultry and electric she’d never felt before. And damn if it didn’t excite and scare her to death all at the same time.
The waiter brought his receipt then. Pete signed the slip of paper and pushed his chair back. “Are you ready?”
“Y
es.” Happy for the distraction, she grabbed her purse, slipped the strap over her bare shoulder and headed toward the front of the restaurant.
Outside the air was balmy, with a slight breeze blowing off the water. Beside her, Pete tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks and gestured with his shoulder. “You want to walk for a bit?”
She was more relieved than she wanted to admit. Walking meant she’d get to spend more time with him before they said good night. “Yes. I’d love to.”
They strolled the streets of downtown Cairo and talked about sports and politics and what it was like to be an American living and working abroad. Eventually they ended up along the banks of the Nile where lights from high-rise office buildings shimmered over the water, contrasting with mud-brick houses and donkey-drawn carts.
Cairo wasn’t a gentle city. It overwhelmed the senses with its noise and chaos, pollution and sixteen million people. But Kat loved it. Sure, there was too much of everything here—too much progress, too much history, too many dangers lurking if you weren’t careful—but it was a magical place. Never more so than it was this night.
It was close to an hour later when they finally made their way to her flat. The building was in an older neighborhood, but well-kept and safely lit.
“This is me,” she said as they slowed near the front entrance and the five steps that led to the building’s main door.
“Nice area.” She noticed he took it all in—the other buildings, the modern cars on the street, the security system blinking just inside the glass door of her building—and approved. The man missed nothing.
“Yeah. One of the guys on our team has been in Cairo a long time and has a flat here. He told us about it when a unit opened up. Personally, I think it’s because he has a crush on Shannon and he wanted to keep an eye on her, but I’m not complaining. Beats living in a mud hut or a tent.”
He smiled and looked down at her. And that spark passed between them again. A jolt she hoped he felt as strongly as she did.
Stolen Heat Page 5
