Page 19 of When a Lady Desires a Wicked Lord
“I take that as a compliment.” Her smile cooled as she turned to Benedict. “Might I suggest we move our discussion to the parlor? It’s far more pleasant there with no trussed-up criminals to trip over.”
With a nod, he accompanied her from the study. They walked along the corridor without speaking. As they entered the small, elegantly decorated room, Benedict closed and latched the door behind them.
Surrendering to an impulse he could no longer deny, he caught both of her hands in one of his. Blast it, how he wanted to touch her. He couldn’t begin to explain an undeniable hunger to hold her, even in this small, chaste way. He only knew the desire for skin-to-skin contact penetrated to the bone.
Closing the small distance between them, he caressed the curve of her face. The time that had passed had only brought her beauty into clearer focus. At first, he thought she might pull away. But she’d didn’t. She stood quite still, watching him, an intense curiosity blazing in her eyes.
“If I live to be a very old woman, I do not think I will ever understand you,” she said. “I believed you to be little better than a pirate. I’m not quite sure what to make of you now that you’ve decided to be noble.”
“Noble?” He laughed quietly. “Doubtful, indeed.”
She cocked her head, the gesture so subtle, few would notice. But he saw the questions the small movement signaled. Had she detected a false note in his words?
A little vee formed between her brows. “What has happened to you? Has the drive to make your fortune brought you happiness?”
“It was about more than the money. You know that, Alexandra.”
She gave a little shrug as she seemed to study him. Relishing the feeling of having her so near, he drank in the scent of a gentle fragrance perfuming her body.
“I must warn you—what I have to say may seem quite mad,” he said, regretting the need to break the comfortable silence.
Her irises darkened to smoky topaz. “The last hour of my life has been imbued with a clear sense of madness. Why should this be any different?”
“I must return to the Nile Valley.” He threaded his fingers through the loose tendrils of her hair, the strands like silk against his skin. “The answers I need are there. I’m asking you to come with me.”
Her charcoal-fringed eyes widened. “You were right. Your request strikes me as entirely beyond belief.”
“What better way to assess the situation than to see the site of the latest excavation with your own eyes—the place where Hamid was killed? With your penchant for observing even the most minute detail, I don’t doubt you will uncover any signs I missed.”
“I see no point to that.” With what seemed a deliberate slowness, she shook her head, emphasizing her refusal. “I assume you obtained a rendering of the message left behind by the unfortunate guide.”
“I did arrange for a photograph. It goes without saying that I will provide it for your examination.”
“Excellent. In that case, it would make no sense for me to rush off to Egypt to study the symbols.” Her tone brimmed with a crispness that belied the warmth in her eyes. “The process may take some time. I will message you as soon as I have deciphered the hieroglyphics.”
“I must press my point, Alexandra. I would not make this request if the situation were not critical.”
“Alexandra, is it?” Her mouth tipped up in a wry smile. “How is it that you never use my full name unless you are issuing an entreaty of some sort?”
He brushed the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip. Her slight smile dimmed. By God, she was lovely when she looked at him with challenge in her eyes. Even now, when adrenaline coursed through his body and he knew full well the urgency of his circumstances, she had the power to disarm him with little more than a look.
“I was not aware of that particular tendency,” he said. “But you are cognizant of it. In bringing it to my attention, you validate my point. You possess a remarkable faculty for observation. The slightest detail and the most obscure patterns do not escape your notice—all the more reason for you to come back into the field with me.”
“I understand your reasoning, but I’m inclined to suspect your motives have a great deal to do with the map you believe I possess.”
“I do notbelieveyou possess it. Iknowit is here. Somewhere.”
“Even if I had the blasted thing, I would not turn it over to you.” She pinned him with a glare. “I am well aware of the means you’ve used to restore your family estate. I’ve no reason to expect this situation would be any different.”
“Getting our hands on that map may be a matter of life and death—ours.”
“If the map does indeed exist, possessing it will not serve to protect us.” She paused, pulling in a low breath and releasing it slowly. “I know your greed. You only seek out artifacts that will bring you more tin. Have you forgotten Stockwell’s anger when you came upon the Amulet of Bastet? His colleague, Professor Stanwyck, was also searching for the relic. Stanwyck would have done the right thing. He would’ve delivered the piece to the Cairo museum. You, on the other hand, claimed it for some rube who will hide it away in his mansion. You took that ancient treasure for your own gain.”
Despite the censure in her tone, Benedict could not deny he’d enjoyed besting his chief competitor in their pursuit of the pendant-sized relic. As wealthy as he was arrogant, Gavin Stanwyck could well afford to be altruistic. For his part, Benedict could not allow his misgivings to stand in the way of collecting the small fortune an Egypt-besotted collector would pay to acquire the gold and emerald sculpture of the cat goddess.
“The woman I knew would have leapt at the chance to seek out such a remarkable piece. You would not have stood by and allowed Stanwyck to swoop in and take the credit.”
“The womanyou knewno longer exists.” The words dripped like ice droplets from her tongue. “As you and I both know, this matter has nothing to do with crediting you with the find. Stockwell’s dismay—and mine—centered around the disposition of the asset. Unlike you, I still possess my integrity.”
