“Beautiful,” he said, brushing the back of his hand across one creamy curve. His fingers brushed across her nipple and tugged. Charlotte closed her eyes, clamping her bottom lip between her teeth to hold back her cry of pleasure.
“Let your emotions show, Charlotte. Don’t hide from me. Open your eyes.” The murmured words held a demand. An order.
Charlotte managed to lift her eyelids even though they felt as if they were weighted. She caught Sethmet’s golden gaze and held it, savoring the innate approval.
“Do that again,” she whispered.
“This?” Lazy humor sounded in his voice as he tweaked her nipple. Once. Twice. And a third time.
“Yes,” Charlotte said, fighting the need to close her eyes again. A streak of pleasure shot from her breast to moist feminine folds. More. This man had worked magic with her body before. Call her greedy, but she wanted it again. She wanted more.
Sethmet tugged her skirts down. The stiff black fabric pooled at her feet.
Gathering her in his arms, he lifted her and walked over to the bed, leaving her black skirts of mourning sitting in the middle of the floor. She felt as if he’d removed the strictures of society, leaving her free to follow her desires. He set her down on the edge of the mattress and removed her boots, tossing them aside in a careless manner. A gleam lit his eyes as he stared at her, his gaze traveling the length of her body and back to her face.
Charlotte shivered at the heat she saw in him, the strength and leashed power. This man could have any woman but he wanted her.
He sat beside her, the feather mattress depressing with his weight and rolling her against a muscled thigh. Sethmet unfastened her ribbon garters and peeled woolen stockings down her legs. The act of undressing turned into the most erotic experience Charlotte had ever participated in with a man. Sethmet drew her drawers down, pressing a soft kiss to each inch of skin he uncovered.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, leaning back to look his fill. “I knew you would be when I first saw you.”
“You saw me earlier today.”
He laughed. “You were perfect then as well.”
She should have felt awkward and exposed, but instead wantonness took possession of her body. Her skin tingled for want of his hands, his mouth. Between her legs, in her private, feminine places, moisture surged. An ache, deep-seated and tormenting, sprang to life. Charlotte stirred restlessly, wanting to demand he touch her with greater intimacy. But she didn’t, years of rules and ladylike manners coming to the fore and bringing a return of shyness.
Sethmet cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue into her mouth, thrusting and withdrawing. The ache intensified. Charlotte splayed her legs, fidgety and impatient yet unable to ask for more. Cool air met warmth, and if anything, the ache in her quim deepened, making Charlotte want to beg for him to ease the hunger that tormented and teased her.
Rules be damned. She’d already asked once and remained alive to tell the tale.
“Please, Sethmet. I want…touch me.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured, leaning over her. Charlotte heard the masculine satisfaction but instead of shame, need soared higher. Stronger. “For you, Charlotte, anything.”
Sethmet blazed a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth and down her neck. Unhurried. Taking his sweet time. Charlotte murmured a soft protest. Too slow, her mind screamed, especially when fire scorched her body, spreading rapidly until she was a mass of smoldering flames.
Deliberate and leisurely, he kissed his way across her collarbone and across the curve of one breast. Charlotte swallowed, waiting, anticipating the heat of his mouth suckling her breast. Instead, he kissed the area surrounding her nipple.
“Too slow,” Charlotte muttered, and she grabbed his head forcibly to place his mouth exactly where she needed it. What did she need with rules and shyness when the direct approach brought results?
A chuckle sounded, the warm burst of air sending a shudder the length of her body. Charlotte rasped a shallow breath as a tight coil of desire gripped her. Then Sethmet drew on her breast and licked circles across her tight nipple. One of his hands trailed across her belly and lower to the triangle of hair between her thighs. Charlotte bucked at the dual sensation—the suckling of his mouth at her breast and the teasing exploration of her moist cleft. The coil of passion wound tighter, stealing her breath, stealing her soul.
Slowly, Sethmet eased away. Charlotte made a sound of protest until she realized Sethmet had paused to strip away his clothing. His shirt dropped away, exposing his chest. He sat up to tug off his boots and stockings then opened the flap of his trousers. Seconds later, he stood before her, naked and aroused.
Charlotte gulped. She knew the mechanics of sex well, but the width of him, the length was imposing even though she’d seem him and felt his shaft this afternoon. Her gaze rose from his cock, up his waist and chest to meet his amused gaze.
“Like what you see?”
Charlotte’s voice failed so she nodded. Her tongue slid between her lips, moistening the dryness away. The man looked fit and firm with not an inch of excess flesh anywhere on his body. Her trembling hand reached out to stroke the length of his shaft.
The first sensation was one of warmth then awe rose as Charlotte considered the inherent strength in him. Her hand curled around the breadth of his cock and squeezed.
Sethmet’s sharp hiss of breath steadied her nerves and brought a grin. A deep shudder shook his body when she applied pressure and stroked his cock again. Pre-cum collected at the sensitive tip, and Charlotte brushed her thumb across the small drop, smoothing it away. Sethmet made a hungry sound at the back of his throat.
“No more,” he said in a hoarse voice. “This afternoon should have sated me, but I want you more than ever.”
Before Charlotte could protest, she lay flat on her back with Sethmet looming over her. A feral grin displayed white teeth and his mouth crashed down on hers. He surrounded her, and Charlotte reveled in the weight of him, the sensation of hard muscles against her softer curves. His erection pressed against her inner thigh. Charlotte shifted to align their bodies, and his cock slid deep into her quim. Sethmet murmured, stroking his tongue against hers in a quick punch of heat. Charlotte arched against him, meeting each powerful thrust of his body.
“I like the way you do that.” Nothing less than the truth. She could become addicted to him if she weren’t careful. Her heart thundered as the overwhelming sensations built. She shuddered and exploded in a fury of pleasure that licked through her veins for long, satisfying moments afterward.
A harsh cry rumbled from Sethmet. His hips pumped. Hard. Fast. Then he stilled, a moan squeezing past his lips. With his eyes closed and his head thrown back, he looked almost primal. A satisfied smile crept across her lips. She, Charlotte Webster, had made him look like that. Her husband had lied to her when he’d implied her coldness was the cause of their childless state. She didn’t feel cold when she lay in Sethmet’s arms.
“You look smug,” he murmured, his golden eyes intense and mesmerizing as he stared down at her. Amusement lurked on his lips.
A soft gasp escaped Charlotte. She stared back, her hand creeping up to caress one lean cheek. Her fingers strayed to finger his lips. In that moment, he reminded her of a wild beast. He reminded her of the kitty.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, afraid of sounding silly, and to distract him, she kissed his neck. Hopefully, they could make love again because she was becoming addicted to his touch. She had a lot of memories she needed to store to keep the coldness at bay when she returned to England.
Chapter Five
Sethmet escorted Charlotte back to her tent just as the sun started to peep over the horizon. He held her close for a moment and brushed a kiss over her smiling lips.
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”
Charlotte smiled as he strode away, holding memories of last night close. The experience of
making love with Sethmet would remain with her always. It was one she’d drag out during the endless round of society balls and soirees—one that would remind her of a few weeks of perfect freedom. Love, and the days where she blazed hot like a bonfire.
After spending time freshening up and changing into clean clothes, Charlotte sneaked a quick glance through the door of her tent. Daylight had arrived and servants scurried about the camp carrying out their duties. A flash of movement caught her attention. Charlotte stepped forward before halting to watch the heated discussion between William and his friend Justin. Justin wore a scowl. He seemed to digest whatever William said then stated his opinion forcibly, using his finger to drill holes in the air for emphasis. Curious, Charlotte crept past her tent and sidled close enough to eavesdrop.
“But the fact remains, we haven’t found anything,” Justin snapped in a hard, cold voice. “We had a deal and I expect you to stick to it.”
Charlotte wrapped her arms around her body to counter the chill Justin’s tone sent rippling across her skin. This didn’t sound like a fight between friends.
“I will. You have my word, but I didn’t expect to have so much bad luck,” William countered. “You have to admit the death of that worker was mighty peculiar yesterday. His entire body looked desiccated when we found him, yet we’d seen him alive an hour earlier. Maybe there’s something in this curse. This has never happened on any other expedition.”
Charlotte clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of shock. Someone had died? Why hadn’t they told her last night at dinner? She hadn’t noticed anything strange the previous evening, but she’d anticipated her rendezvous with Sethmet and her mind had dwelled elsewhere. It had been difficult to concentrate on dinner conversation with an evening of pleasure to look forward to. No, her brother hadn’t mentioned a death. Her distraction hadn’t been that bad. Charlotte strained to hear more, studying both men closely while poised to flee should the need occur.
Of the two, William seemed calmer, but Charlotte didn’t intend to test her stepbrother’s temper by being caught listening to their conversation.
“A curse. Bah!” Justin swept his hand through the air. “Nothing but superstitious drivel.”
“You have to admit the way Martin was injured last night was damned spooky. He swears a cat attacked and clawed him when he was exploring the small temple on the edge of the oasis. Damned if the marks all over his body don’t look like claw marks yet there were no prints on the ground when we went back to look at the temple. All we found were paw prints.”
“Have you checked on him this morning?” Justin asked.
“I’m about to head that way.”
“Had he been drinking the local rotgut?”
William shook his head. “He swears he hadn’t drunk anything. I didn’t smell any alcohol on him when I treated his wounds.”
A sliver of fear crept down Charlotte’s spine. Curious indeed, she thought, wondering uneasily if the caracal had something to do with the strange attack. It hadn’t exhibited any signs of unpredictability during their encounters. The feline had saved her life. No, she decided. Her cat hadn’t attacked Martin. Her kitty wouldn’t harm her or anyone else. William and Justin showed signs of moving so she decided she’d better make her presence known. She crept back to her tent and swished the canvas back loudly as though she’d just exited.
“Good morning,” she said in a bright voice. Charlotte glided over to the two men, the epitome of the perfect lady. “Where are we exploring today? I swear my sketchbook is almost full, but there are so many interesting things to record.”
“Good morning, Charlotte.” Justin took possession of her hand and bent over it. At the last minute, he turned her hand over and pressed an intimate kiss on her wrist just above the pair of short gloves she wore. Under normal circumstances, if she’d met him in a London ballroom, his attention would have flattered her. With his cool English looks, blond hair, blue eyes and independent means, the man was a matrimonial prize. He left her cold. Instead, a man with golden skin, tawny eyes and dark hair made her blood sing. And strange pointy ears, she thought with a grin, that he hid under his hair. Sethmet had acted embarrassed when she discovered them, but she thought the imperfection cute.
“Good morning, Justin.” Were they going to tell her about the death of the worker or about Martin’s injuries?
“Charlotte.” He retained her hand for longer than proper, his bold eyes sweeping over her in a familiar manner that made her uncomfortable.
As she tugged her hand away, Charlotte caught the satisfaction on her stepbrother’s face and wondered at it. Despite his encouragement, she felt she’d managed to keep Justin’s attentions at a distance.
A gong rang out, the dull sound vibrating through the campsite.
“It seems our meal is ready. This heat is parching. I am ready for a dish of tea,” Charlotte said.
“I need to check on Martin first,” William said.
“Oh? Is something wrong?” Perhaps she could have a career on the boards. She’d scarcely blinked at William’s announcement, the inflection of her voice perfectly innocent.
William scowled. “Martin was attacked last night when he was exploring the oasis.”
“But he’s all right?” Charlotte asked. “Should I take a look at his wounds? Who would attack him?”
“Charlotte, I hardly think that would be proper,” Justin said, his tone a shade shy of pompous. “William is taking care of Martin. He is not badly injured.”
The three wandered over to the shaded area set aside for dining. Justin pulled out a chair for her. Charlotte subsided into the upright seat and smiled at Justin, thanking him for his assistance while inside she seethed. She felt as if she were a child, scolded for an infraction. Not a hint of her furious thoughts showed on her face. Charlotte knew better. Unseemly shows of emotion were grounds for solitary confinement and she had no intention of giving up her freedom and losing a chance of spending more time with Sethmet. Once settled, she accepted the tea the servant handed her with a smile.
William disappeared in the direction of the workers’ tents while she and Justin exchanged small chat about the weather.
“I find this heat very trying,” Justin said. “You are brave to venture so far from civilization and endure our daily treks.” He made it sound as if they traveled to the ends of the earth each day. Granted, there were no amenities and the company was limited since William wouldn’t let her talk to the natives. She wasn’t even allowed to speak to the workers they’d brought with them from England. Still, she wouldn’t exchange this time for anything. Memories. At least she’d have her memories when she returned to staid and colorless London.
“It’s not so bad,” she said, maintaining a polite smile. “I enjoy drawing more than anything, and it is good to have new things to sketch.”
“You must show me your drawings.” His indulgent air told her he expected amateurish efforts.
Charlotte sipped her tea in lieu of answering straightaway. His transparent thoughts were a blow to her pride because this was one area where she exhibited talent. “I could show you some of my sketches if you like.” Apart from the ones of Sethmet. She must put those in a safe place. She’d forgotten in her hurry this morning.
“That would be lovely, my dear.”
William rejoined them.
“How is Martin?” Charlotte was glad of her stepbrother’s arrival, a buffer between her and Justin.
“As long as infection doesn’t set in, he should return to work in a day or two.”
“Are accidents usual?” she asked, fishing for details of the other man. Every time she recalled Justin and William’s earlier discussion, a ripple of trepidation raced through her. An unexpected death was terrible at any time, but this man’s death sounded peculiar.
“Not really,” Justin said.
William and Justin exchanged a quick glance before applying themselves to eating the local cheese and flat bread that appeared with every meal.
They weren’t going to tell her. Frustration curled her hands until her knuckles whitened. She wasn’t a child and didn’t need coddling or protection.
Sethmet strolled into the camp not long after, and Charlotte couldn’t help staring at his lithe grace.
“Charlotte,” William said, his tone sharp when he noticed her attention centered on Sethmet.
Charlotte’s gaze snapped to her stepbrother, and her cheeks heated at being caught ogling Sethmet. If she wasn’t careful, she’d give her interest in him away.
“Have you made the arrangements I requested?” William demanded as soon as he reached them.
Charlotte tensed, indignant on Sethmet’s behalf. William spoke to Sethmet as if he were a servant with not an intelligent thought of his own. She knew otherwise. Sethmet was cultured and witty. Educated. A secret smile lifted her mood. And he was her lover.
Sethmet dipped his head. “Yes, all is arranged as you desired.”
“I trust there will be no mishaps today.”
Sethmet shrugged carelessly, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I have no control over the curse.”
“What curse?” Charlotte asked, curious about the tension that took hold of her stepbrother.
Justin snorted in the background. “Superstitious rubbish.”
“There’s no such thing as a curse.” William took a final sip from his dish of tea and placed it on the table. “Let this be an end to the discussion. Charlotte, if you’re finished I’d like to have a word with you before we leave.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to protest and glanced down at her dish of tea. She’d only had time to take a few sips. Surely there was time for her to drink more?
“Charlotte.”
Sighing inwardly, Charlotte stood. She recognized that frosty tone and it didn’t bode well.
Lynx to the Pharaoh Page 5
