by Monica Burns
Faster and faster her mouth flew over his iron length. The friction built to an intense heat until he exploded white hot in her mouth. A guttural cry rolled out of him as his cock throbbed its release. In that split second, the vivid image of Alex left him, leaving only the cold harshness of reality.
He was alone.
Uttering a low growl of frustration, he reached for a cloth to clean himself. Rolling out of bed, he removed the rest of his clothing, down to his bare skin. Somehow, he needed to put Alex out of his head. She wasn’t for him. It wasn’t just the harsh realities of the life he led that helped him form that opinion.
He was who he was—a half-breed—nothing would ever change that fact. A long time ago, he’d believed it was possible for a woman to care for him despite what he was. But Caroline had shown him the flaws of such an expectation. He now knew it was unrealistic to think any woman would see beyond his mixed blood to the man he really was. Even if a woman were to try, he could never trust her enough to believe his heritage was of no consequence.
Padding over to the large window overlooking the ship’s wake, he watched the lightning slash at the cresting waves. The sooner they reached Cairo, the better. At least there he’d have a buffer between him and Alex, in the form of his cousin.
Raised together, he and Medjuel had been inseparable as children. It had forged a special bond that lasted to this day. His cousin was more brother than anything else. Grandfather had instructed both of them how to lead the tribe, although Altair had always known Medjuel would be selected by the tribal elders to be Sheikh el Mazir upon their grandfather’s death.
A pure Bedouin, Medjuel was of royal blood, while the blood of an Englishman flowed through Altair’s veins. Still, his cousin and his desert family had never shunned him because of his English blood. He held the honorary title of Sheikh and served as Medjuel’s agent in all matters related to the tribe.
What would Medjuel think about Alex and her search for Nourbese? The thought made him inhale a deep breath. He wheeled away from the window. The coolness of the wood planks felt good against his bare feet as he paced the floor. Despite his time in England, he’d never lost his sense of superstition and beliefs in the occult. Growing up, he’d heard the familiar oracle so often he knew it by heart.
From the new world, a woman crowned in hawk feathers will come to find Pharaoh’s wife. She will return the jars of life to Nourbese enabling her spirit to join Ramesses in the afterlife. In return, Pharaoh’s beloved will bestow a wealth of ancient knowledge and treasure on her deliverer, which will benefit all the Mazir.
Was the prophecy about to come true? Would Alex discover Nourbese’s tomb? What would it mean to the Mazir tribe? Then there were the Museum’s expectations. The British Museum paid him to act as a liaison between archeologists and the Egyptology department. If Alex did discover Per-Ramesses, the Museum would do everything in its power to have a part in the excavation.
He threw himself back onto the bed. With one arm draped over his eyes, he contemplated his predicament. If Alex found Per-Ramesses, he would have to notify the Museum. He had no doubt about her feelings on that issue. The questions and indecision he experienced when it came to Alex were frustrating. In all his twenty-nine years, he’d never allowed anyone to throw him into such a quandary as this woman had done. Not even Caroline had succeeded quite so well.
The memory tightened his jaw. He’d not been more than eighteen when he’d first laid eyes on Lady Caroline Spencer. Accustomed to racial slurs and prejudices, he’d expected her to reject outright his attentions. To his surprise, she’d not turned him away. If anything, she seemed more than eager to let him court her.
Even when he’d broached the subject of his heritage, she’d been adamant that she would never scorn him because of his mixed blood. Infatuated, he’d proposed marriage, never dreaming she would ever stop loving him.
Indulged since childhood, Caroline had convinced her parents to let them marry, and their engagement had taken London by surprise. At first there were only the slight snubs, the snide remarks and the chilly silence when they appeared at a social engagement. Then the invitations dwindled.
With each passing day, he’d watched Caroline withdraw from him as the life she was accustomed to slowly disappeared. On the fringes of polite society, they were excluded to the point that she had finally turned on him. Denouncing him as a filthy Saracen in the main lobby of the St. James’s Theatre, she’d dissolved their engagement at the same time. The pain of that public humiliation was something he’d never forgotten.
But despite that humiliation, here he was enthralled with another woman. While it was true Alex wasn’t Caroline, she was still a threat because she made him wish things were different. That alone made her all the more dangerous to him. The farther away from Alex he stayed, the better. Tonight he’d almost succumbed completely to her charms. What would he do when they were deep in the desert with only a wool tent flap between them?
Alex listened to the storm slowly fade as the ship moved into calmer waters. Next to her, Jane’s quiet breathing indicated her friend was asleep. She closed her eyes, feeling her breasts grow heavy as she remembered the touch of Lord Blakeney’s hand on her.
When his thumb had rubbed over her hardened nipple, a slick heat had filled the apex of her thighs. She’d ached there, wanting the fulfillment of that need. She’d often wondered what that need might feel like, and now she knew.
More than a year ago, she’d found a book her father had hidden from her. Based on the Erotic Papyrus of Turin, the translated text had displayed twelve different drawings of an explicit nature. Each drawing displayed followers of the Egyptian goddess Hathor engaged in different coitus positions. Shocked by the explicit pictures, she’d turned to Jane for answers.
Her friend had insisted on seeing the drawings and pointed out that some of the acts depicted were often quite pleasurable. What her friend had never expanded on was how a single touch could evoke such lustful sensations in her body.
Why had she allowed him touch her so intimately? She should have protested, but the fact was she’d enjoyed the way his touch made her feel. The tip of her tongue wet her dry lips, and she remembered the fiery way his mouth had possessed hers. Her nipples grew taut as she ran her fingers across her breasts. She wished it were Lord Blakeney’s hand running over her, once more stroking her until she ached for more.
The rigid length of him pressed against her leg had excited her more than she’d ever believed possible. Memories of the pictures from the papyrus had flashed through her mind, making her wonder what it would feel like to experience one of those positions with Lord Blakeney. The moral outrage warring with her wicked thoughts had been easily silenced by the heat of his mouth on hers.
Her hand slid across her breast and down her stomach to the warm ache between her thighs. What would she have done if he hadn’t stopped touching her? Would she have behaved in the manner of an ancient Egyptian priestess willingly offering herself to Pharaoh? The thought excited her. Every time he came near her, she visualized him as an Egyptian ruler. Sleek and well-oiled by handmaidens in preparation for some ancient rite of sexuality to honor the Goddess Hathor. Her muscles tensed at the image.
But something else about him attracted her. There was a mysterious quality about him. It was as if he carried some great burden. The elusive nature of his emotion intrigued her. She sighed into the dark, irritated by her inability to think of anything else but Blakeney.
Concentrating on her expedition would keep her mind off the man. She had to make her father’s last request her primary focus. She couldn’t allow anything to get in the way of finding Per-Ramesses, nothing at all. Not even Lord Blakeney himself. She’d just have to block him out of her thoughts.
Another sigh of frustration parted her lips as she rolled over in bed. Not thinking about the man was going to be difficult given the fact she wasn’t the least bit drowsy.
In fact, as hard as she tried not to, images of Lord Blakeney continued to fill her head. And the images of what he was doing to her were shocking, but thrilling. Her fingers dug into her pillow as she pulled it over her head in hopes of achieving oblivion.
It wasn’t until a ray of sunshine from the cabin’s small window warmed her cheek that she stirred from a sleep she had not expected to materialize. From across the cabin, Jane greeted her with a smile.
“Well, I must say this adventure is proving to be everything you said it would be.”
Rising up on one elbow, Alex pushed a tousled mass of hair out of her face. “What are you talking about? Has something happened while I was asleep?”
“Nothing I’m aware of—I’m simply referring to the way Lord Blakeney showed up at my door last night with you in tow.”
Alex could feel the blush creeping into her face as she climbed out of bed and retrieved her robe from the chair. As she shrugged into the wrapper, she shook her head. “His Lordship seems to find himself with the unenviable chore of keeping me out of harm’s way.”
“Oh, I don’t think he minds.”
“Well, I’m quite certain he does.”
Jane crossed the floor and pulled out a dress from the trunk beside the bed. As she met Alex’s wary gaze, she arched her eyebrows. “Alex, you have a lot to learn about men. If there’s one thing I know, it’s men, and Lord Blakeney is completely enthralled with you.”
Appalled by her friend’s observation, Alex felt her jaw sag in astonishment. “That’s absurd.”
“Well, explain to me why the man looked like he wanted to carry you off to his cabin and have his way with you throughout the night.”
The image Jane ignited in Alex’s mind made her cheeks burn hotter. She whirled away from her friend and stalked to the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. Lord Blakeney had just rescued me from my own stupidity. If anything, the man was furious with me.”
“Where are you going?” Jane exclaimed.
“To my room. I need to dress.”
“Alex, you can’t go out of here dressed like that.”
Ignoring Jane’s admonishment, Alex threw open the door. The moment she entered the corridor, she saw Lord Blakeney’s tall figure outside the door of her cabin. His back to her, she admired the width of his strong shoulders and the way his silky brown hair was pulled neatly back in a queue with a dark blue ribbon. As she moved toward him, she remembered how his hair had hung loose the day they’d met at the British Museum. He’d not worn it that way since. Butterflies stirred in her stomach as she realized how much she wanted to see him that way again. There had been a beautiful untamed quality about him that had thrilled her.
She frowned. The man occupied her thoughts far too often. The sooner she controlled the impulse to think about him, the better.
She was only a couple steps away from him when a sailor emerged from her cabin carrying one of her trunks. The man’s glance in her direction widened to one of surprise. Immediately, Blakeney spun around. For a moment, he stood thunderstruck as he stared at her.
“Get that trunk down to the hold, Jensen,” he growled without looking at the man. Striding toward her, he pushed her back down the passageway. The expression on his face was one of furious anger. As they halted in front of Jane’s door, he planted himself in front of her to shield her from the prying eyes of the sailors entering and leaving her cabin.
“Have you lost your mind?” he snapped in a low voice. “Do you have any idea what sort of invitation you’re sending to those men?”
“I was simply returning to my cabin to dress. I wasn’t issuing any invitation. I’m quite suitably covered.”
“Any woman who looks like she’s just spent the night in her lover’s arms, dressed in a robe that fails to hide her sensuous curves, is an invitation few men can ignore.”
Alex stared up into the darkness of his glittering brown eyes. She didn’t know whether to be irritated or pleased by his words. Irritation won. “I don’t recall issuing an invitation to you last night, but that didn’t stop you from trying to take advantage of me.”
Tension froze his body and she immediately regretted her words. That had been unfair of her. He’d touched her, yes—but she’d offered up no resistance. In fact, she’d been more than eager for his touch. He’d been a gentleman. It would have been easy for him to push his advantage where she was concerned, but he hadn’t. He was an honorable man.
His magnificent features suddenly resembled a statue from an ancient Egyptian monument, and ice could not have been colder than the expression in his eyes.
“I apologize for acting like a heathen last night, Miss Talbot. It won’t happen again. Now return to Mrs. Beacon’s cabin before I have the Captain turn this ship around.”
His resolute demeanor left her thoroughly chastened, and she quickly opened Jane’s door and slid into the room. Resting her back against the door, she closed her eyes. A soft chuckle echoed close by forcing Alex to send her friend an arched look. “What?”
“Any man who can describe a woman in the manner that Lord Blakeney just described you is definitely infatuated.”
“You were eavesdropping!” Alex glared at the dark-haired widow.
“It was difficult not to. The man’s voice carried right through the door. Although I must admit my curiosity as to what really transpired between the two of you last night.”
Amusement lit the violet eyes watching her closely, and Alex grimaced. “For heaven’s sake, just go and get me some clothes.”
Jane laughed as she gently pushed Alex away from the door. “As you wish, but I’ll eventually have the complete story from you.”
The moment her friend left the cabin, Alex sank down into a nearby chair. Heavens but the man was an enigma. He’d been furious with her, but there had been something else in his eyes as he’d scanned her figure a few moments ago. Could Jane be right? Her friend had good instincts when it came to men. She nibbled at her bottom lip with her teeth. Even if Jane was correct, she refused to give in to her own attraction for the man. Better to think that Blakeney found her annoying rather than attractive. To think anything else would be far too dangerous.
She didn’t want Blakeney or any other man hampering her expedition. This was her project now. Father and Uncle Jeffrey had been her colleagues. They’d valued her expertise; and their support of her in pursuing a career in archeology had been highly unusual. In many ways, their treatment of her had served as a measuring stick against which to compare other men. No one had ever reached Father’s or Uncle Jeffrey’s mark on that stick. No, a man would only complicate matters. Especially a man who could pass for an ancient ruler of Egypt.
Overhead, a starry night waged battle with the pink dawn for control of the sky. Staring out over the bow of the ship, Altair could see the faint firelight that glowed along the shoreline. Cairo. A rush of relief surged through him. The past five days had proven far more stressful than he expected. Alex had stayed as far away from him as she could, but it had been impossible for him not to know when she was near. Even if he were blind, he’d recognize her soft scent of honey and the sound of her tread.
His lust for her had continued to grow over the past few days, despite his best efforts to destroy the feelings. Images of her voluptuous body filled his nights, while his dreams displayed her naked curves poised over him. He reassured himself those dreams would soon fade. Soon his first mistress would consume him, replacing Alex Talbot. The Sahara would claim him as she always did. Her strange beauty would envelop him, bringing him the peace he longed for.
The sails of the Moroccan Wind billowed and snapped in the fresh wind. He inhaled the air deeply. The heat of the desert wafted beneath his nose, and his body tingled with the sense of homecoming he felt. Hands braced on the ship’s rail, Altair watched as the soft colors of dawn filtered across the sky to illuminate the Pyramids towering over Cairo.
Instinct told him Alex was nearby. He turned his head and saw her at the railing several feet away. Excitement and expectation brightened her expressive features as the sun revealed the Pyramids in all their glory. He recognized in her face the same joy he experienced every time he saw the magnificent creations. Content to watch her in silence, he noticed every change in her expression, interpreting each nuance as it crested her face.
Today she wore a blue taffeta gown that hugged her curves as a glove might a hand. Like all her dresses, it was devoid of bows, lace or other trappings. The high neck hid the beauty of her throat, but the gown highlighted the fullness of her breasts.
He closed his eyes, visualizing her as she’d appeared that night in her cabin. He could still feel the hard pebbles of her nipples on the pads of his thumbs. The familiar stirrings of desire tightened his body, and he grimaced. Why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about bedding her? His eyes flew open as more potent images flooded his head.
Up on the bridge, the Captain called out to him. “My lord, I believe you owe me a case of your finest brandy.”
