Danger in the Desert

by Merline Lovelace

  The physician had traded her stethoscope and lab coat for an exquisitely beaded and embroidered silk caftan in shimmering Nile green. Jaci swallowed her instant lust to own a loose-fitting tunic exactly like this one and returned the doctor’s welcoming smile.

  “You’re not limping, I’m pleased to see. Did you experience any swelling of your knee?”

  “None at all.”

  “Another patient lives to tell her tale,” the dark-haired beauty pronounced, laughing. “Please, allow me to introduce my husband, Sheik Kahil Bakarim El Hassan.”

  Jaci turned to the tall, stunningly handsome man in pleated slacks and a white shirt tailored from a cotton so fine it might have been woven for one of the kings whose tombs she’d just explored.

  “Sheik? I thought… That is, Deke said…”

  Her host hooked a brow. “That I am the son of a leprous goat herder?”

  “Actually, he told me you were in the air force.”

  “I am.”

  “A colonel, right?” she asked.

  “Right, but you must call me Kahil.”

  She’d thought Deke Griffin was sex on the hoof! This dark-eyed, curly haired colonel/sheik gave him a real run for his money.

  “And I’m Jaci.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Jaci.” He waved his guests to the table set under the billowing tent. “May I offer you a drink? We have tea and fresh lemonade. Or Egyptian beer, if you prefer, although I’m afraid it’s somewhat strong for Western palates.”

  “Lemonade, please.”

  “Ace?”

  Kahil caught Jaci’s curious look. “That’s the call sign we gave this rogue while we were both in under graduate pilot training.”

  “Didn’t Deke tell you how he earned it?” the colonel’s wife asked with a gleam in her dark eyes.

  “No.”

  “And neither will either of you,” the subject of their conversation interjected hastily. “I’d rather Jaci form her own opinions of my character.”

  “Too late. My opinion is already set in concrete.”

  Three pairs of eyes swung in her direction.

  “Tell us,” Fahranna demanded. “What opinions have you formed?”

  Oh, Lord! Why in heaven’s name hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? She might as well climb to the top of the closest minaret and announce to the world that she’d developed a serious case of hero worship for one Deke Griffin.

  “There aren’t many men who would rescue a gullible tourist from a camel driver,” she said with an embarrassed smile, “then take time away from his business interests to give her a personal tour of your city.”

  “Hmm.” The svelte, slender doctor tapped a finger against her chin. “You’re right. Not many men would give so generously of their time. Unless…”

  Her voice trailed off, and Kahil moved smoothly to fill the small silence.

  “I’ll pour the drinks. Fahranna, my darling, why don’t you tell the servants to bring food for our guests?”

  The awkward moment passed, and Jaci breathed a sigh of relief. By the time Fahranna returned with servants bearing trays of appetizers, she was relaxed and enjoying both the surroundings and the company. She didn’t need her hostess’s urging to try at least one of the dozen different appetizers presented for her sampling.

  The succulent olives swam in saffron oil, the goat cheese was ripe and aromatic. Sticky, sweet dates countered both those tastes, as did cold lamb kabobs and miniature pita pockets stuffed with chickpeas, onions and tahini.

  Jaci was nibbling at a spicy fig roll when Kahil produced a tissue-wrapped object.

  “Deke brought this to me earlier today.” Carefully, the colonel unfolded several layers of tissue.

  “He said you found it in the City of the Dead.”

  “I did.”

  She itched to reclaim her beetle, but Kahil hefted it in his palm for his wife to see.

  “It looks like malachite,” she commented, leaning in for a closer examination.

  “It is. I asked the director of the Cairo Museum to examine it.” Kahil raised his eyes and met Jaci’s.

  “He thinks the scarab is quite old. Eighteenth Dynasty, at least.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  Stunned, Jaci scrambled to sort through Egypt’s dynastic history. If she remembered correctly, the Eighteenth Dynasty lasted from about 1500 to 1200 BC and included some of ancient Egypt’s best-known rulers. King Tut. Hatshepsut, who’d proclaimed herself pharaoh. Amenhotep and his fabulously beautiful wife, Nefertiti.

  The possibility that she’d stumbled across an artifact from one of the most glorious periods in Egypt’s history sent Jaci’s spirits soaring. Just wait until she told her Ancient Civilizations group about this!

  The realization that she wouldn’t be allowed to keep her little beetle brought her careening back to earth. Swallowing her disappointment, she tried to take the larger view. How many people could say they’d contributed to the riches of Egypt’s past? At least she could enjoy the thrill of discovery and the excitement that came with knowing she’d added another footnote to a glorious history.

  “How does your friend know the scarab is so old?” she asked eagerly. “He couldn’t have had time to carbon-date it.”

  “He didn’t need to. He used spectrography to confirm that the stone comes from a vein of malachite mined only in the Timma Valley.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “In what is now southern Israel. Legend has it that area is the location of King Solomon’s fabled mines. But long before Solomon, Egypt ruled Timma.”

  Her heart pounding, Jaci glanced from Kahil to his wife to Deke. Their expressions reflected her own growing surprise and astonishment.

  This went beyond anything she’d imagined when she planned her trip. King Solomon’s mines. Amenhotep and Nefertiti. King Tut. Their names and images whirled inside her head like a colorful kaleidoscope.

  “Then, of course, there are these hieroglyphics.”

  Carefully, Kahil nudged the beetle onto its back. As she stared down at the markings, the oddest sensation gripped Jaci. Almost as though this was happening to someone else.

  That wasn’t surprising. Nothing, but nothing, in her neat, orderly, carefully scripted life had prepared her for this moment. Or, she thought as she shifted her glance again, for sharing it with someone like Deke Griffin!

  His friend’s startling revelations had Deke as tense and excited as they had her. His shoulders had gone taut, and the skin was stretched tight across his cheeks.

  “What…?” Jaci swiped her tongue along suddenly dry lips. “What do the marking say?”

  Silence descended—heavy, almost suffocating.

  “They honor Ma’at, goddess of truth, justice and harmony. And,” Kahil added slowly, “they tell of the one who will appear someday to true believers.”

  “Huh?”

  “It is an ancient legend. One that goes back thousands of years.”

  His gaze held hers. Steady. Dark. Unreadable.

  “Some say…some believe…the person who finds Ma’at’s scarab is a messenger from the goddess herself.”

  Jaci couldn’t help herself. She burst into noisy, unrestrained giggles.

  Chapter 7

  “I can’t wait to tell my Thursday-night study group about this!” Jaci gasped between helpless giggles.

  She, Jacqueline Marie Thornton of Gainesville, Florida, a messenger of the gods!

  The preposterous notion set her off again. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she tried to choke back her bubbling laughter. The expressions on the faces of the others at the table kept it coming.

  Fahranna appeared almost as entertained by the ridiculous notion as Jaci. Her husband’s re action was more reserved, although a sort of wry acknowledgment crept into his eyes as his guest continued to snicker behind her hand. He caught Deke’s glance, and the look the two men exchanged told Jaci they, too, saw the humor in the situation.

  “Ah, well,” Kahil murmured when Jaci
finally swallowed her giggles, “it is only a legend. Egypt has as many such tales as the desert does grains of sand.”

  “I’ll have to ask Dr. Abdouh if he knows that particular legend.”

  Kahil lifted a brow. “Dr. Abdouh?”

  “He’s one of the members of my Ancient Civilizations study group.”

  “The gentleman who was born in Egypt?” Deke queried.

  “That’s the one. As you can imagine,” she said, turning back to Kahil, “he’s been a wealth of information about ancient Egypt.”

  “I can see that he would be.” Carefully, Kahil set the scarab on its nest of tissue. “You must tell us more about what you have learned from him.”

  Sternly reminding herself that she couldn’t expect to keep such a precious artifact, Jaci dragged her gaze from the little beetle. She hesitated to display her limited knowledge in front of these sophisticated, highly educated Egyptians. But they were such gracious hosts they soon had her engaged in a lively dialogue that ranged from the Nile’s annual inundation to the system of collecting taxes in ancient times.

  Their conversation continued over an incredible dinner of salad, rice pilaf and lamb grilled table-side on a charcoal brazier. They ate outside, with the fountain splashing and a panoply of stars overhead.

  Talk segued to current affairs over coffee and dessert, and Jaci had less to contribute. It embarrassed her to admit her ignorance of modern Egypt. When she said so, however, Fahranna countered with the gracious observation that few visitors to the United States would be as knowledgeable of its history as Jaci was of Egypt’s.

  The conversation took a more personal turn after that. With a charming grimace, Kahil produced a thin, silver cigar case and turned to Deke.

  “My sweet, adoring wife has rid me of all vices except these.”

  “Ha!”

  “I’ll bet!”

  The simultaneous exclamations came from Fahranna and Deke. They grinned at each other across the table while Kahil assumed a wounded expression.

  “She permits me one cigar after dinner, but I am flatly forbidden to light up anywhere in her vicinity. Will you walk with me, my friend, and join me in a smoke? You also, Jaci,” he added politely. “We keep cigarettes for our guests, if you would prefer those.”

  “No, thanks. I never got into cigars or cigarettes.”

  “Very wise,” Fahranna commented. Her gaze followed the two men as they strolled toward the far end of the rectangular pond. “It’s taken me years to wean Kahil to one cigar a day. He’s stub born, that one.”

  “Sounds to me as though he’s met his match,” Jaci said with a smile.

  “He has.” Laughing, the dark-eyed beauty tossed her hair. “Most definitely.”

  They made a magnificent pair, Jaci thought with a little pang of envy. Both so accomplished and self-assured, with a big dose of gorgeous thrown in for good measure.

  Just like their friend.

  The pang took a sharp twist as her gaze centered on Deke. In the glow of the tiny white lights strung through the trees, he epitomized every secret female fantasy. Handsome and sexy and kind and considerate. No woman could ask for more—certainly not Jaci. Just looking at him made her chest go tight and a slow heat curl in her belly.

  “The question now,” Fahranna mused, breaking into her thoughts, “is whether Ace has done the same.”

  “The same what?”

  “Met his match.”

  “You mean…?” Jaci swallowed. Hard. “Me?”

  “Why not you?” her hostess asked in obvious amusement. “You’re intelligent, adventurous enough to travel to Egypt on your own and quite lovely. And, if I may say so, you’re very different from the kind of women Ace usually consorts with.”

  Jaci tried to take that as a compliment. Unfortunately, her effort was blocked by a quick mental image of Deke’s usual consorts. She had a sneaking suspicion they were sleek and cosmopolitan and not the least bit klutzy.

  Then again…

  Her glance zinged to the scarab nested on its bed of tissue. As if a cool breeze had suddenly drifted through the garden, the fine hairs on Jaci’s arms lifted.

  Was this all part of some cosmic plan? If she hadn’t tripped over her own feet, she might not have spotted the beetle. And if she hadn’t tumbled off the camel, she wouldn’t have landed in Deke’s arms.

  Had they been fated to meet?

  Had their destinies been entwined long before they met?

  The possibility both thrilled and scared the dickens out of her. She’d loved before. With all her heart. She’d followed Bobby to the University of Florida, absolutely convinced they would spend the rest of their lives together. The shock of finding out he’d lied to her, that he hadn’t had the decency or the courage to tell her he wanted out of their engagement, had shaken her belief in love itself.

  That’s why she’d thrown herself into her studies. Why she’d dated sporadically throughout her under graduate and postgrad years. Why even today she filled her time with study groups and kitty klatches.

  And why the mere thought that some divine pre destination had landed her in Deke’s arms made her wish desperately he’d stub out that damned cigar, drive her back to her hotel and finish what they’d started last night. Glaring at the scarab, Jaci formed a swift, silent prayer.

  Come on, Ma’at. Do your thing!

  A half second later her heart just about jumped out of her chest. Darned if the two men didn’t flick their cigar butts into the shrubbery!

  “So we’re agreed?” Kahil eyed the two women sitting at the table at the far end of the lily pond.

  “This Jacqueline Thornton has no idea of, or involvement in, the controversy her extraordinary find has stirred?”

  Ace gave a curt nod. “Agreed.”

  “You will notify your government. I will notify mine. Then, my friend, we must make sure she’s on the first flight out of Cairo tomorrow morning.”

  “Agreed,” Ace said again, suppressing a vicious stab of guilt.

  He knew how much Jaci wanted to see Karnak and Luxor and the astounding collection of antiquities in Cairo’s fabled museum. The realization that he would deprive her of those experiences put a kink in his gut. It didn’t compare, though, to the knot that twisted his insides at the prospect of some anarchistic nuts using her as the central figure in a bloody uprising.

  “I’ll take her to the airport myself.”

  “Very well.”

  Like Deke, Kahil had long ago learned to disguise his thoughts. His smile when they rejoined the woman reflected only pleasure…and regret when Deke insisted he’d trespassed on their hospitality far too long.

  “It’s not yet midnight,” Fahranna protested.

  “Cairo only now comes to life. Why don’t we go to a club? Or to the Nile Hilton. Dina performs there. Jaci must see Egypt’s most famous belly dancer.”

  If Ace needed any additional incentive to hustle Jaci back to her hotel, that was it. His mind reeled off instant images of the sinuous, elemental performance he’d witnessed at the Golden Salamander.

  “Jaci and some of her group tried their hand at belly dancing earlier today. She could give Dina lessons.”

  The rough edge to his voice sent Fahranna’s brows soaring. She shot Jaci a look Ace couldn’t quite interpret and raised no further objections to her guests’ imminent departure.

  “Before you go,” Kahil said, “I wish to give you this.”

  He slid a hand into a pocket and withdrew another tissue-wrapped object. It was a replica of Jaci’s scarab, polished to shining brilliance and threaded on a thin gold chain.

  “It comes from the Cairo Museum,” he informed her as he draped the chain over her head. “The director assures me it is of the finest quality. Not as valuable as yours, of course, but something you can treasure from your visit to Cairo.”

  “Thank you!”

  Despite the city’s perpetual traffic snarl, the drive to Jaci’s hotel took less than twenty minutes. She spent those minutes fingerin
g her scarab and thinking of the delightful evening she’d just spent. The night ahead offered even more possibilities.

  Every nerve in her body tingled when Deke insisted on walking her through the lobby, into the elevator and down the corridor to her room. With each step, her breathless anticipation mounted. Torn between doubt that someone like Deke Griffin could be her destiny and the growing conviction he might be the one man in the universe for her, she slid the key card in the lock and propped the door open with one shoulder.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  Jaci’s pulse went wild when his jaw tightened and unmistakable desire flamed in his eyes. Yet for reasons totally incomprehensible to her, he held back.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “If you ask Fahranna,” he said, reaching up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, “she’ll tell you I rarely refuse that kind of an invitation.”

  “As a matter of fact, she mentioned something along those lines.”

  “Damn! The woman knows too much about me and my past.”

  Jaci didn’t care how well Dr. El Hassan knew him. Nor did she give a hoot about his past. Her only interest at the moment was the hunger he roused in her and the certainty that whatever happened tonight would decide her future.

  If nothing else, she thought as a wild recklessness gripped her, she would always have the memory of Cairo.

  “Why don’t we just go with the flow?” she murmured, sliding her palms over his shoulders. “Or as Ma’at might say, yield to the cosmic order of things?”

  She hooked her hands behind his neck, smiling at the surprise that flickered across his face. Then she went up on tiptoe and treated herself to the taste and the feel and the scent of him.

  The heat flared as hot and as fast as it had last night. Sparks ignited low in Jaci’s belly and spread like a California wildfire. She pressed against him, her mouth as eager as her body.

  Deke’s response was more deliberate. The tendons in his neck corded. His shoulders tensed. Ever so slowly, he slid his hands to the small of her back.

  His restraint fired Jaci with something primitive, something elemental. The femininity she’d celebrated earlier in the day seemed to gather at her center, like a magnet drawing all parts of her toward a molten core. Her womb clenched. Her nipples tightened. Her breath came short and swift.