Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
She thought a
moment. “I’m no archaeologist so I’m sorry if this is going to come across as
stupid speculation, but what if it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
He pulled his
glasses off. “Explain.”
She shrugged,
wrapping an arm around his big shoulders as she pondered her answer. “Well,”
she cocked her head. “What if it means just heading in the direction of the
setting sun and not traveling every day, due east, until the sun sets. Would
that make a difference?”
He looked at her
a moment before putting his glasses back on and focusing on the screen again.
As Morgan watched, he used a measuring tool on the mapping program to plot
several courses to the northeast.
“The earth was
rotated differently four thousand years ago,” he told her. “There was much more
of a tilt, so the sun would set at a different angle than it does now. More
than that, the Sahara was actually sub-tropical for millions of years, pretty
much until the end of the last ice age. Up until six thousand years ago, it
received monsoonal flow. It’s only within the past five or six thousand years
that the Sahara has turned into the desert we know today.”
Morgan watched
him map. “Then maybe in pre-dynastic times, the city of Ranthor wasn’t out in
the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was in a green valley or oasis.”
He nodded.
“Absolutely,” he said firmly. “I’m not sure why that didn’t occur to me until
now.”
“Maybe because
I’ve been crying over a lost journal and you’ve been distracted.”
He grinned as he
continued to map out the eastern Egyptian desert. “I’ve been distracted with
you but it doesn’t have anything to do with a lost journal.”
Morgan grinned
in response, moving away from the computer to go and finish dressing. She went
back into the bathroom to pull her long hair into a stylish ponytail and do her
makeup, emerging back into the bedroom to put her clothes on.
It was a mild
evening outside so she pulled on soft green sheath dress that hugged her curves
and a pair of flashy silver pumps that were about five inches high. Putting on
a pair of glittery silver earrings, she was on the hunt for a smaller purse she
could carry when Fox suddenly spoke.
“I think I may
have something,” he stated, still staring at the computer screen. “Ten days
travel from Amada to the northeast would put us about ninety miles northeast of
Aswan. It’s a very rocky area with mountains and canyons but, as I recall,
there is a spread-out population of Bedouins.”
She pulled out a
small silver purse from her suitcase and began to put things in it. “Do we go
investigate?”
He nodded
faintly, eyes glued to the information in front of him. “Absolutely,” he
confirmed. “But not before I figure out the last part of this papyrus.”
“Can we eat
dinner before you do?”
He took of his
glasses and rubbed his eyes, realizing he had been quite swept up in the task.
He pushed himself to relax a little. “Of course,” he replied. “Ready for that
romantic walk by the Nile?”
She nodded. “I
am,” she replied, her mind drifting to the journal again. “But I have to tell
you, the love of this search has kind of gone out of me without Fanny’s
journal. That was the most important part and now I just feel kind of empty.”
He turned
around, rising out of the chair and taking a step when his eyes fell on her and
he realized how good she looked. He staggered and put a hand over his chest.
“Bloody hell,
woman,” he exclaimed softly, his obsidian eyes drinking her in. “Do you have
any idea how beautiful you look right now?”
She cast him a
coy glance, grinning with a flash of deep dimples. “Thank you very much.”
Fox forced
himself to move forward, inspecting every inch of her. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
She turned to
him to display the outfit, turning a slow circle so he could see everything.
“You like?”
His eyes were
fixed on her fantastic legs and sexy shoes. His heart was literally pounding
with excitement.
“You seriously
have to ask that question?” he snorted, putting his hands on his hips as he
continued to inspect her. “I’ve only ever seen you in jeans or coats or
sweaters, and you have by far the best legs I have ever seen in my life. Why in
the hell do you cover them up? There should be a law against that.”
She stopped
prancing around and snickered softly. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’m glad
you think so.”
He swooped in on
her, going for a lusty kiss but she turned her head and he ended up kissing her
cheek. “You’ll mess up my lipstick,” she told him.
He growled. “I
don’t give a bloody damn about your lipstick.”
He slanted his
lips over hers hungrily, tasting the fruity flavor of the lipstick along with
her sweet musky taste. The kiss was hot and forceful and in little time, Fox
picked her up and laid her on the bed, covering her with his enormous body and
ravaging her with his mouth. Morgan very quickly gave up protesting the fact
that she would have to re-do her makeup and hair, and as his shirt and her
dress came off, she gave herself over to his lust completely. With the
moonlight streaming in through the window and illuminating their naked bodies,
it was a perfect, sensuous night.
They were deep
into heated, sweaty sex when there was a knock on the hotel room door. Fox
pretended like he didn’t hear it until the knock came again, louder this time.
He paused in mid-stroke, his head coming up from where it had been buried
against Morgan’s shoulder, and their eyes met.
“Bloody hell,”
he hissed a curse. “Are you kidding me right now?”
She didn’t know
why, but she started to giggle. Maybe it was the completely aggravated look on
his face that set her off. “Maybe it’s important,” she suggested, biting her
lip.
The knock came
again and he reluctantly pushed himself off of her. “It better be bloody well
critical,” he growled, looking around for his pants and quickly pulling them
on. “It had better be a message from God himself or heads are going to roll.”
He was genuinely
angry and Morgan pulled the sheet over her body, pressing her hands against her
mouth and laughing silently. She could hear him grumbling as he passed through
the living room and to the door. When he opened the door with a ‘what the hell
do you want?’ greeting, she burst out into soft laughter. She just couldn’t
help it. But she made sure the giggles died down before he came back into the
bedroom.
By this time,
she was laying there with the remote in her hand and had turned on the
television. She could see Fox in her peripheral vision as he entered the room.
“Well?” she
wanted to know. “What did God have to say?”
He didn’t say
anything, which made her look over at him. When she did, he held up something
in his hand. Morgan recognized it as Fanny’s journal immediately.
“He said to give
you this.”
Morgan bolted
up, sheet wrapped around her body as she reached for the journal with both
hands. Fox handed it to her and together, they set it on the bed between them.
“Who brought
it?” she demanded, inspecting the cover to see if there was any damage.
“The night
manager,” he replied. “He said that someone dropped it off at the front desk
and said it was for me.”
“Who?” she was
fired up. “Who was it?”
He put his hand
on her arm. “I don’t know, love,” he replied steadily. “The night manager said
that the man ran in, dumped it on the desk, and took off. No one had ever seen
him before.”
She was furious
and grateful at the same time. “I’m going to get dressed and go down there and
find out what I can,” she was already climbing off the bed. “I want to find out
who did this.”
He grabbed her
arm before she could move away. “Why?” he asked.
She froze,
looking at him as if he was crazy. “
Why
?” she repeated. “Because
stealing is a crime. Moreover, I want to know why they took it.”
“Isn’t it more
important that it’s been returned?” he asked softly. “You have the journal
back. That should be all that matters.”
She didn’t
understand why he was so casual about the whole thing. “I want to know why they
took it,” she insisted. “Maybe there’s something more….”
He put both
hands on her arms, pulling her between his legs. One giant palm went to her
cheek. “Sweetheart,” he interrupted patiently. “Listen to me; you’re going to
waste time chasing after some thief who probably won’t tell you anything. Like
you speculated, it was probably just a crime of convenience. While you were off
rumbling with the Egyptian police, some thief slipped in and stole the journal,
thinking it was something of value. When he realized it wasn’t anything of
worth, he returned it. End of story. Even if you find who it was, you know that
the Cairo police aren’t going to prosecute them.”
She stared at
him, realizing he was more than likely right. She had the journal back and
whoever stole it was long gone by now. As she started to calm, something more
puzzling came to mind.
“You mentioned
that the night manager said that whoever dropped the journal off said it
belonged to you?” she clarified.
He nodded.
“That’s what he said.”
She cocked her
head. “
How
did he know it belonged to you?” When he looked rather blank,
she pressed. “If it was stolen out of my purse by a random thief, how did he
know to return it to you?”
Fox shook his
head, stumped. “I have no idea.”
It didn’t make
any sense to Morgan but she was beginning to agree that interrogating the hotel
staff and running off in search of the thief wasn’t the best course of action.
Her gaze moved to the journal on the bed.
“Something isn’t
making sense,” she murmured, moving to sit on the bed beside Fox. “Something’s
not right. I don’t know what it is yet, but give me time. I’ll figure it out.”
He stroked her
back comfortingly as she opened up the journal and began inspecting it page by
page to make sure nothing was missing or out of place. Then he kissed her on
the temple, stood up, and went to retrieve his shirt.
“Does it look
intact?” he asked.
She nodded
slowly as she carefully turned page after page. “It looks like it’s been leafed
through, but nothing seems to be missing.”
“Thank God,” he
pulled his shirt on. “All things considered, do you at least feel better now?”
Again, she
nodded, coming to the last page of the journal and running her fingers over the
dark stains on the page. There was sadness in her touch, and perhaps a silent apology
to Fanny for letting her precious journal get stolen. But there was also
gratitude for the reunion. Then she looked up, suddenly noticing he was
dressing.
“What are you
doing?” she asked.
His dark brow
furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, watching her point to his shirt, his
pants. “I’m getting dressed. Let’s go eat.”
She sat there a
moment, looking at him, before setting the journal aside. Then she shifted and
the sheet fell off of her chest, exposing her luscious bare breasts. Rising to
her feet, she let go of the sheet and walked towards him, the sheet falling to
her feet, until she came to stand in front of him. With their height
difference, she came to his sternum. Reaching up, she unbuttoned the two
buttons he had fastened and pulled open the shirt. Naked, soft and warm, she
pressed herself against his torso and began to sensually kiss his flesh.
It was all the
enticement Fox needed to drop the shirt and his pants, in that order, pick her
up and carry her back over to the bed to finish what he had started.
December 5, 1922
Great
and sorrowful news today. I have discovered that I am with child and dear Louis
insists we return to England right away. Although I must leave Egypt, I have
made Louis promise that we shall return very soon. There are tears in my eyes
as I think of leaving my beloved pyramids behind.
Farewell, Egypt!
~ FS
CHAPTER NINE
“So his
questions were based on this… this old book?” Alia was shuffling through page
after page of photocopies of Fanny Sherburn’s journal. “Why is he asking such
questions?”
The door to
Alia’s office was closed lest anyone see what she was doing. Beni stood over
her desk, watching her examine the copies of the pages of the journal he had
swiped from Morgan’s purse. A few quick copies, a few coins to a homeless boy
to return the journal, and no one would be the wiser. At least, he hoped not.
He was feeling rather dirty for what he had done. But Alia had insisted.
“If you read the
pages closer to the end, you will see that the woman mentions the Claw of the Ape
and something else,” Beni pointed out. “She mentions a papyrus.”