One Hot Winter's Night

by Woods, Serenity

  “That’s right.”

  His thumb stroked the hand he was holding. “I may have it.”

  “I know you have it. Your men found it last week in the dig at Hierakonpolis.”

  He smiled. “You have good sources. Why do you want it so much?”

  “The British Museum has a new Egyptian exhibit opening and they want a special display on cats.”

  “It is my very favourite artefact.”

  “Oh, Sayed, I doubt you’ve looked at it twice since it was discovered.”

  He shrugged. “You want it, therefore I want it too.”

  She looked him directly in the eye. “What price are you asking?”

  He stroked her hand again. “What are you willing to pay?”

  “Everything is on the table, Sayed.” Jeez, she had to stop doing this. She was turning into a floozy.

  He smiled at her, glancing over at where Alexander was standing with Heath. “Are you sure about that? I have a feeling there are two gentlemen who would not be happy with you offering yourself so freely.”

  Her cheeks grew hot with indignation. “My personal life is no business of either of them.”

  The Egyptian surveyed the New Zealander coolly. “Who is he?”

  She glanced over at where Heath stood sipping his champagne, one hand in his trouser pocket. His gaze had been glued to her, but now he met Sayed’s hard stare. “Dr Heath Roberts. A regular Indiana Jones if ever I saw one.”

  “Like you?”

  She grinned at that. “I guess.”

  Sayed tore his eyes away from Heath’s frown and looked back at her. His hand slid ever so slowly down, onto her butt cheek, and he pulled her close enough to him so their hips touched. “Let us talk payment again. I find myself interested in making a deal.”

  He only wanted her because Heath wanted her. It stung a little, but she shrugged it off. The artefact was all that mattered. “Let me think about what I can offer you…”

  Chapter 9

  Heath finished off his champagne and twirled the narrow glass in his fingers. He studied Cat’s slim form on the dance floor. He’d known she’d be there, of course. He’d heard about the Bastet figurine, and he knew the Black Cat would head for Cairo like an arrow from a bow. He’d convinced himself he’d only gone to Egypt to acquire the artefact, but as soon as he saw her in the skin-tight scarlet dress, he’d known he was kidding himself.

  He’d been unable to get her out of his mind since the morning he’d awoken to find the bed cold. It hadn’t taken him long to find out her real name on the Internet and to discover she was a well-respected expert in the archaeology world. The thought that she was more than a match for him professionally only added fuel to his ardour.

  Now he watched the Egyptian’s hand squeeze her arse, and he narrowed his eyes.

  “She won’t thank you.” Alexander’s voice held a hint of amusement.

  He turned, surprised. “For what?”

  “Rescuing her.”

  Heath met the older man’s gaze and then looked back at the couple. “I’m guessing that’s Dr Kamel?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “He’s very high up in the Egyptian Government. He’s also extremely rich and known for his collections of priceless treasures.”

  Heath knew all that—he’d meant what did Alexander know about him personally. Was the man married? Had he and Cat had a relationship, albeit obviously not a sexual one? It was clear they knew each other. “She’s met him before.”

  “She bought a rare Scorpion Macehead from him two years ago.”

  Heath nodded, watching the way she looked up at Kamel and laughed, tipping her head back, shaking her hair. He recognized the mannerism from his initial contact with her in the Ice Bar. She was flirting, buttering Kamel up. Presumably it wasn’t the first time she’d done it with the Egyptian either.

  Heath was beginning to understand her bartering system; this was obviously the way the Black Cat often made a deal. He had to constantly remind himself that whatever had happened that night in Jukkasjärvi, she was a clever and astute businesswoman who wasn’t afraid of using her sexuality to close a deal, even if she’d never gone as far before as she had with him.

  In spite of his reminder to himself, though, the memory of what they’d got up to under the covers brought a smile to his face. He’d been her first. That had to mean something.

  “Don’t hurt her,” said Alexander.

  Heath looked across at him in surprise. The old man’s gaze was concerned, angry even. “Sorry, what?”

  Alexander took a step closer to him. “I saw the way she looked at you. And I can see the way you’re looking at her. She likes you, Dr Roberts, although she may not realise it yet. But she keeps herself locked away for a reason. She doesn’t need you to go opening doors that should remain closed. She’s fragile as a butterfly.”

  Heath surveyed him for a moment, intrigued by the man’s passionate speech. “Are you her father or her lover?”

  Alexander’s eyes burned into him. “I’m neither. But I’m the closest thing she’s got to family, and I won’t stand by and watch you trample all over her heart.”

  Heath smiled and placed his glass on the nearest table. “Don’t worry, sir, I have no intention of hurting her.”

  He started walking toward the couple who were moving slowly to the music and standing far too close for his liking. After a few steps, however, he turned back to face Alexander. The old man glared at him. Heath grinned, flicking out his hands innocently. “I just want to talk to her.”

  Leaving Alexander standing there, furious, Heath strode determinedly toward the dance floor.

  Cat could feel Sayed’s growing interest as he pressed himself against her. Inwardly she sighed, but she made herself smile and raise an eyebrow at him, looking deeply into his eyes.

  Just then she felt a presence at her elbow and looked over her shoulder to see Heath standing there. He smiled at Sayed. “Good evening, Dr Kamel. May I step in? It seems a shame to let you keep this beautiful young lady to yourself all evening.”

  Furious, Cat opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, but Sayed was already nodding politely, and he released her hand and stepped back to let the Kiwi take his place. “We will speak further shortly,” the Egyptian told her, dipping his head in a short bow before walking away.

  Cat watched him go and then turned her angry gaze back to Heath, who placed his right hand very properly on her waist, his left grasping hers firmly. He began to guide her around the dance floor, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was speechless with rage. He looked absolutely gorgeous in his black suit and tie and crisp white shirt, his silver hair shining in the light from the chandeliers. Damn him.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

  He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “I did not need to be rescued!”

  “Oh, I beg to differ. Grabbing your arse in the middle of a crowded ballroom is not appropriate behaviour.”

  “You’d have done the same thing if he hadn’t done it first,” she scoffed.

  “Are you amazed at my restraint?”

  “Not really. The way you’re looking down the front of my dress kind of overrides any admiration I might have had.”

  “Oh come on, I’m three inches taller than you even when you’re wearing heels. How can I not look down your cleavage?”

  “You could try.”

  He smiled. “I think you’ve tried hard to put yourself on display tonight. I’m sure you’d be very disappointed if every man you met wasn’t looking down your front or admiring your butt in that extremely tight dress, especially as you obviously aren’t wearing any underwear.”

  She flushed. “How dare you judge me!”

  “I wasn’t judging—I was making an observation.”

  She glared at him. What was it with this man? How was he able to wheedle his way beneath her carefully erected screen?

  H
e was a very smooth dancer, his warm hand on her waist guiding her around the small dance floor. His comment back in the Ice Hotel, why don’t you let me lead? suddenly sprang into her mind, and her lips curved in spite of herself.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  She sighed. “You’ve probably ruined the deal I was going to make. I guess you’re going to swoop in now and get the figurine for yourself.”

  “Oh, I don’t think he’ll be selling to me any time soon,” he said wryly. “My cleavage isn’t as impressive as yours.”

  “So why did you do interrupt our dance?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” His warm gaze brought heat to her cheeks.

  She looked away across the ballroom, not answering. She didn’t want this intimacy. It was exactly the kind of thing she tried to avoid. She’d been so stupid to go to bed with him. Now he thought he meant something special to her.

  He moved a little closer, ostensibly to avoid another couple, but when they’d passed, he kept his hand in the middle of her back. His lips almost, but not quite, brushed her temple. Gosh, he was tall.

  “Are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself in Sweden?” he murmured.

  Trust him to be ungentlemanly and bring that up. “I hate to damage your fragile ego, but I faked it, okay?”

  His eyes met hers, amused. “Both times?”

  Her cheeks grew hot again, and he laughed. She lifted her chin. “Absolutely.”

  He smiled. They were really quite close now, close enough for her to feel the warmth from his body.

  Something was puzzling her. “Heath?”

  “Hmm?” He was almost—but not quite—nuzzling her ear. In public! In Egypt! Thank goodness this was a classy hotel with lots of westerners present or she could see him being frog-marched out of the room by security guards for inappropriate PDAs.

  She shivered. “Why aren’t you angry with me? For taking the necklace, I mean.”

  “I am. I’m furious, can’t you tell?”

  She glared at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m covered in melted cheese and you want to lick it all off.”

  He raised a dubious eyebrow. “Cheese? Surely you’d prefer chocolate?”

  “I don’t like chocolate.”

  He stared at her. “Jeez, you call yourself a woman? You don’t like foreplay or chocolate?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like foreplay, I said I didn’t need it.”

  Her words, echoing his in the Ice Hotel, made him smile. “Well, as it’s me that would be doing the licking, I choose chocolate.”

  She shivered at the thought of him covering her in chocolate and removing it with his tongue. He was so gorgeous in his tux, she felt weak at the knees. “Can we please stop talking about licking?”

  “You started it.”

  She heaved a big sigh. “What do you want, Heath?”

  “I want to know if you’ll go to dinner with me tomorrow. Just the two of us.”

  “A date?” She looked up at him in alarm. “Absolutely not. I don’t date.”

  “What, never?”

  “Heath, I think there are a few things we should get straight. I don’t date, and I don’t want a relationship. I’m only interested in my job and, as you are already aware, I do whatever’s necessary to get the artefacts I want. I’m not going to change myself for anyone.”

  He’d been studying her while she spoke, his face expressionless. Now he nodded. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “What about sex?”

  Chapter 10

  She stared at him. “What about it? As you know, I don’t have sex.”

  “Didn’t,” he corrected with a smirk.

  She bit her lip and looked away, embarrassed. “That was a blip.”

  “Maybe. But the fact is that we did make love. You liked me enough to finally give up your virginity.”

  She glared again. “We didn’t make love. We had sex. Let’s not pretend it was anything more than that. And…I was curious, that’s all.”

  He shrugged. “That’s my point. You must have…needs.”

  “There are ways a woman can satisfy herself without having to resort to finding a man,” she scoffed.

  His eyes went unfocussed, and she realised he was picturing her pleasuring herself.

  He sighed. “What are you trying to do to me?”

  In spite of herself, she laughed. Even when she’d flirted with men, they’d never been this intimate. It was a new sensation, and not an unpleasant one. He knew what she was like in bed. She’d pleased him. She couldn’t help but glow at that.

  He blinked and re-focused on her. “As gratifying as battery-operated devices are, they can’t kiss you like a real lover.”

  She met his gaze, remembering his deep, warm kisses as he moved inside her. “True.”

  “So maybe I can help you out a little.”

  “What do you mean?” She was suddenly breathless.

  He nuzzled her ear again. “I’m sure now you’ve experienced the delights of sex you’re interested in finding out more. And I’d be happy to show you. So how about if I agree to absolutely no post-coital contact? I won’t phone, I won’t try and find you, I won’t pretend it’s more than just really, really good sex.” He pulled back and looked at her. “This is one of the most bizarre conversations I’ve ever had. You’re like the complete antithesis of any woman I’ve ever met, do you know that?”

  She bit her lip. He was so gorgeous she was close to throwing him on the floor and doing him under the chandelier.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

  “Sex is part of a transaction,” she stated, determined not to let him know how tempted she was by his offer. “And you have nothing I want.”

  “Are you sure about that?” His eyes twinkled. “I’m sure there’s a certain piece of my anatomy you’d like to get your hands on.” He was so close to her now it was easy for him to brush his lips against hers. “Think about it, Catherine. No commitment, no risk. No strings attached. The only thing I will promise you is as many orgasms as we can cram into one night.” His hazel eyes were intense. She had no doubt he meant every word he said.

  “Oh.” She felt slightly faint. Orgasms, plural? “Nobody calls me Catherine.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Now they do. I have to. You see, don’t tell anyone, but my real name’s Heathcliff.”

  She stared at him. “You’re kidding me.” That was too weird.

  “I’m afraid not. My mother is a huge Brontë fan.” He grinned, stepping back from her. The band had finished, and everyone had started to move to the tables, ready for dinner.

  “Think about it,” he murmured. “Let me know when you make up your mind.” And, taking her hand, he led her toward where Alexander was sitting.

  She followed him, her head spinning. As many orgasms as we can cram into one night. Oh my. How was she supposed to turn down an offer like that?

  The tables seated eight. Alexander was talking to a couple from the Egyptian Museum on his right. Sayed sat the other side of them. Heath led Cat next to Alexander. Then, to her surprise, he took the seat next to her. He shook out his napkin, seemingly oblivious to the glares from Sayed and Alexander, and accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter.

  “Skål!” he said to her, holding up his glass.

  Her lips twitched, and she clinked his glass with hers. “Skål.”

  Oh dear. This was going to be a very awkward evening.

  In actual fact, though, it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable meals she’d had for a long time. Heath started the conversation by asking Sayed about his collection of artefacts, and before long they were all discussing archaeology and relics, and the atmosphere gradually thawed. Only Alexander was quieter than usual, his gaze settling on her thoughtfully more than once.

  Toward the end of the meal, Heath glanced at him and then looked across at Cat. “What’s up with him?” he asked her. He was in the p
rocess of polishing off his last course, a rich chocolate mousse cake she’d decided not to have.

  She wasn’t going to think about what he’d offered to do with the chocolate sauce. “Alexander’s cross with me. No idea why.”

  He looked across at the older man, taking another spoon of the cake. “That might be something to do with me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “He’s worried I’m going to break your heart.” He sucked his spoon, studying her with his warm, hazel eyes. “Don’t worry. I told him we’re only having sex.” He laughed out loud at the alarm on her face. “I’m joking, Catherine.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She glared at him. “What did you really say to him?”

  He smiled. “I told him he doesn’t have to worry—that I have no intention of hurting you.”

  She huffed.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What was that for?”

  “I haven’t forgotten you’re the Silver Fox. You know what foxes are famous for?”

  He scooped up the last of his dessert. “I don’t know any famous foxes, but I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

  “For being sly, sneaky, and cunning.”

  He licked his spoon. His eyes twinkled. “A cunning linguist?”

  She rolled her eyes. “And a master debater? Yes, I’ve watched Austin Powers too.”

  He grinned. “Actually, that reminds me of a quote from Hamlet: ‘Alas poor Yorick, I knew him, Fellatio.’”

  They both burst out laughing. Everyone at the table looked over at them, and Cat bit her lip, leaning back as the waiter placed a coffee before her. She glanced at Alexander, who was frowning at her. “Care to share the joke?” he asked.

  Cat didn’t dare look at Heath. “We were just talking about Shakespeare.” She sipped her coffee.

  Heath scooped a spoon of sugar into his cup. “We were discussing A Midsummer Night’s Dream and debating the best actor to play Flute.”

  Cat coughed into her drink. Alexander would be perfectly aware of the Ancient Greek term for oral sex, and she was pretty certain Sayed was too, judging by his raised eyebrows.

  Heath blew on the hot liquid in his cup, hiding a smile. She kicked him under the table and he winced.