Part 14 (1/2)

A tingle ran down her spine. She suddenly wasn't so sure they were talking about cars anymore. ”I suppose a Taurus is probably less conspicuous than a Porsche.”

”Yes, it is. And we both know green is safer than sincity red any day.”

Her skin warmed. She imagined him behind the wheel of that wicked car, tanned and sleek and s.e.xy, the wind ruffling his hair as he rocketed down the highway. The image, combined with the intense way he was watching her, made her mouth go dry. ”Being safe is important.”

”It is. But it's not near the adrenaline rush.” His voice dropped to a whisper. ”And it'll never be as satisfying.”

That tingling slid lower, into her belly. Lower still. She swallowed and forced herself to speak. ”It's just a car.”

His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips in a move that sent those tingling sensations shooting straight between Kat's thighs and reminded her of the thousands of times he'd looked at her like that in the past. ”Men do love their cars.”

”Of course,” he added in that same husky timbre that made her remember steamy s.e.x and sweaty bodies and long iniquitous nights, ”sometimes all it takes is one test drive to know what you like.”

And what you don't. The unspoken words were reflected clearly in his fathomless eyes.

”Maybe once isn't enough,” she heard herself say before she could stop the words spilling from her mouth. ”Maybe sometimes it takes more than once to know what you need.”

”Maybe.”

The air crackled between them. His gaze held hers, a thousand questions brewing in those stormy pools. And her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Though she knew it was foolish, she expected him to move forward, to touch her, to drag her close and kiss her like he had in Marty's garage.

She waited for all that to happen, and some insane part of her wanted it, no matter what she knew to be true about him.

Then a muscle in his jaw tightened, and he looked away. And the spell he'd just woven around her broke like ice shattering against hard, cold cement.

”Maybe,” he said again. ”But I doubt it.”

A breath Kat hadn't realized she'd been holding rushed out of her like a balloon being deflated.

He s.h.i.+fted the backpack on his shoulder before she realized he was taking it with him and walked around the car. ”I'll meet you in the back lot in five minutes.”

Then he climbed in the old Pathfinder and pulled away from the building.

Standing there in the frigid breeze, Kat remembered when he'd looked at her like that in Cairo. Like he still wanted her but didn't know what to do about it. Like nothing between them would ever be the same.

Because it hadn't been. That day, in her apartment, everything had changed between them. She knew now that had been the beginning of the end.

She let out a long breath and turned for the back lot. He was stirring up feelings and memories she'd buried long ago. And she wasn't sure she was strong enough to deal with them all. Not now. Not with him so close.

She prayed in a matter of hours, she wouldn't have to deal with them ever again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Six years earlier Cairo

”Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I know you're busy.”

”Never too busy for you, Kat. You know that.” Martin Slade pulled the chair out for Kat and waited while she sat at the small bistro corner table. Outside on the street, cars honked and jockeyed for s.p.a.ce amongst industrial trucks spewing exhaust and donkey-drawn carts darting through traffic. Inside, the predominantly European clientele clinked cups and saucers amidst a steady hum of chatter and afternoon caffeine.

”I just wish I had more to tell you,” Marty said as he moved around the table and sat down.

Kat set her purse on the floor and waited as a waitress came and took their order. As Marty was speaking with the young girl, Kat's eyes moved over this man she'd once been intimate with. Funny, but she didn't feel anything for him now except friends.h.i.+p.

It'd been several months since she'd seen him, but he looked good, albeit tired. Then again, Marty always looked tired. It was as much a part of him as were those broad shoulders and that solid frame and the secrecy that hung around him like cologne. Today he wore a white b.u.t.ton-down and a pair of black slacks that accentuated his toned body. His dark hair was longer than she remembered, but still stylish and well-kept as it set off his dark eyes and what looked to be a day's worth of stubble he hadn't bothered to shave.

He was an attractive man. One she'd been interested in, but never head-over-heels about. Not like she was with Pete.

Her heart turned over at just the thought of Pete. It'd been six months since their first night at the Mena House. Since then he'd come and gone from her life, never with any warning or regularity. Weeks would go by where she didn't see him, days between phone calls when she had no idea where he was or what he was doing. She'd imagine the worst, tell herself this crazy relations.h.i.+p wouldn't last because there were so many things left unsaid and unexplained between them, but then he'd magically appear on her doorstep, and all her rational thoughts would slip away.

When they were together, all she could see and feel was him. And she knew he felt the same. It was in his eyes every time he touched her, every time he kissed her. Every time he sank his body deep into hers and held her close. He'd never told her he loved her, but she didn't need the words to know what was in his heart. She felt it.

And that knowledge made everything else so much harder to bear.

She knew very little about his business, about what he did when he was gone. She'd asked, of course, time and again, but each time he'd sidestepped her questions by telling her he was working on something important for the future and that he didn't want to waste their moments talking about work when there were other things more important to do.

His aversion to letting her into such a large part of his life hurt, but she never pushed him. He was right, their time together was already so limited, she didn't want to do anything to tarnish it. Now, though, sitting across from Marty, she knew she was fooling herself. Sawil had already warned her.

As the waitress moved away, Marty's eyes resettled on hers. The closest table was too far away for anyone to overhear their conversation, but he spoke in a low voice anyway. ”A couple of the pieces you described to me showed up in a gallery in Turkey.”

Kat closed her eyes. Pete had called from Istanbul last week.

”Turkish officials are working with the Supreme Council of Antiquities to return them to Egypt. No one's talking about how they got there.”

Kat looked up at the mention of the SCA. ”You have a hunch, though, right?”

”Technically, Kat, I'm not even supposed to be talking about this since it's not my area. I pa.s.sed on what you told me, but I'm only here out of courtesy given our friends.h.i.+p.”

”I know, and I appreciate it. I just didn't know what else to do. I told Sawil about my suspicions, and he talked to Dr. Latham about it, but so far the SCA hasn't done diddly.”

What she didn't say was that Sawil had warned her about Pete the night she'd gone to talk to him. When she wouldn't let the subject drop after Sawil's repeated attempts to tell her to just let it go, he'd finally admitted he suspected the trouble at their tomb and Pete's appearance in Kat's life were too close to be a coincidence. He'd argued Pete was an antiquities dealer. Even if he didn't work on the shady side, he knew people who did. He had to.

She'd told Sawil he was crazy, that Pete would never be involved in something like that, but some small part of her had been knocked off kilter by the accusation.

Because there were too many things she just didn't know about Pete. And even now, sitting across from Marty, she remembered the way Pete had checked out her tomb during those first few tours, not like a tourist, or a man who was simply pursuing a romantic interest, but like he was after something special.

She supposed that was why she'd called Marty. So he could rea.s.sure her Pete was clean and someone else was responsible for the thefts.

This news didn't help.

”Did Latham increase security around the tomb?”

”Yes,” she said. ”But if what you just told me is true, it doesn't matter. Someone's getting in anyway.”

His lips thinned. ”This isn't a U.S. matter, Kat. The SCA's closed-lipped. They like to handle things from within.”

Her shoulders slumped.