Danger in the Desert

He’d hung back, mingling with the crowd while he observed this supposed messenger from Ma’at. It didn’t take him long to decide the goddess had to be pretty hard up for emissaries. Jacqueline Marie Thornton looked just short of ridiculous with a greasy headdress tilted over one eye and an overstuffed canvas tote thumping against a hip while she bobbed along.

“Oh, dear.”

That came from a smallish woman wearing a visor decorated with a University of Florida Gator. She was standing a few yards away, her worried gaze on the camels.

“I hope Jaci doesn’t go too far,” she said to another member of her group. “The tour leader warned us about these drivers.”

With good reason. Ace had spent enough time in Egypt to know these guys had a real racket going here. They dressed like Bedouins, but most had never trekked across a desert. They also raked in so much from the hordes of tourists that many sported Rolexes and Air Nikes under their robes. Even the tourist police on their distinctive white camels rubbed their fingers together, demanding payment for every digital photo snapped by a gawking visitor. More money probably changed hands here at the pyramids than anywhere else in Egypt. And from the looks of it, his target was just about to be taken for double the usual fee.

She knew it, too. She’d contorted in the saddle and was pointing repeatedly toward the buses. The incipient panic on her face elicited a twitter of dismay from her older traveling companion.

“Hanif!” The woman turned to an Egyptian in a cheap green suit ringed with sweat at the armpits. “Jaci wants to come back. Do something!”

The man—a guard assigned to the group, judging by the weapon bulging the back flap of his suit coat—cast a glance at the duo.

“Do not worry. They will return.”

Ace hid a predatory smile. Perfect! He’d just been handed the ideal opportunity. His instructions were to get close to the target. What better way to win her trust than to rescue her from an unscrupulous camel driver?

He took off at an easy lope. Luckily, the sand on the plateau had been packed hard by centuries of tourists and plodding camels. Ace barely broke a sweat before he got within shouting distance.

“Stop, you son of a flea-bitten dog!”

It was one of the more useful Arabic phrases he’d learned from Kahil. Very handy when dealing with pickpockets and Cairo’s suicidal taxi drivers.

The driver jerked around and cursed. Ace bit out an oath of his own when the man lashed his beast with a whip. The lead camel stretched his neck and broke into a hump-rolling gallop. When the second beast did the same, its rider shrieked and toppled sideways.

Christ! The woman was going to fall right out of the saddle!

Ace sprinted the last three yards and caught her just as she tumbled to the ground. He broke her fall, but she took him down with her. Grunting, they hit the sand and sprawled there, hips and legs tangled, while the driver and his camels galloped off.

“I … uh …”

Scrambling for purchase, the target dug an elbow into Ace’s sternum. She levered up, then used her free hand to shove back the rankest turban he’d ever smelled.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I will be.” Manfully, he repressed a grimace. “As soon as you remove your elbow.”

“Huh? Oh!”

She squirmed, digging the bony joint in deeper.

“Sorry.”

Her face brick-red, she wiggled off him. She managed to mash her breasts into his chest in the process. The connoisseur in Ace didn’t fail to note they were as lush and ripe as her lips even as the undercover operative took full advantage of her obvious embarrassment.

“No problem.” He rolled to his feet and held out a hand. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“Thanks. I … ouch!”

Her leg folding, she almost went down again. Ace kept a grip on her hand and slid his other arm around her waist.

“Your ankle?”

“My knee. I banged it coming down.” Biting her lip, she took a tentative step. “It’s not bad. Just a little …”

When she broke off, wincing, Ace almost didn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t have scripted a better scenario.

“Better let me carry you back to your bus.”

“No, really. I’m okay.”

Ignoring her protest, he scooped her into his arms. The foul-smelling turban fell off, thank God. They left it in the dirt and started up the slope.

“I’m Jaci.” Self-consciously, she hooked an arm around his neck. “Jaci Thornton.”

“Deke Griffin.”

“You’re an American.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he nodded anyway. “Yep.”

“Are you on a tour, too?”

“Business.” His civilian occupation provided the perfect cover. “I flew over to do some consulting. Just got in today and decided to stop by the pyramids on my way into town.”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m certainly glad you did.”

Whoa! The woman’s passport photo hadn’t done her justice. Ace could see himself in her eyes. The irises were greener than they’d appeared in the photo, almost as deep and verdant as the palms lining the Nile. Her shy smile and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose gave her a kind of girl-next-door appeal.

Definitely not his style. Aside from the fact she was his target and therefore off-limits, Ace went for less wholesome types. But he had to admit she made for a nice armful. Firm thighs, slender hips, narrow waist. The behind pressing against him wasn’t bad, either. Not bad at all.

“Jaci!”

Led by the diminutive woman in the Gator visor, Thornton’s travel companions rushed to greet her.

“We saw you fall! Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Just, uh, banged my knee a little.”

“More than a little if you can’t walk. You’d better have it x-rayed, dear. Hanif, where’s the nearest hospital?”

The gun-toting guard frowned. “Not far. I will call someone to take her, yes? The rest of you can go on with the tour.”

Jaci’s heart sank. The next portion of their itinerary included a visit to the base of the Great Pyramid, time to explore the Sphinx and dinner at an open-air restaurant before the spectacular laser light show telling the history of these ancient monuments. She couldn’t come all this way and miss the show.

“I don’t need to go to a hospital. Really.”

Hard to sound convincing while hefted in the arms of a total stranger. Embarrassed all over again, Jaci wiggled against his chest.

“You can put me down, Mr. Griffin. I’m fine.”

Except she wasn’t. When her tall, broad-shouldered rescuer eased her to her feet, she grimaced and had to lean heavily on his arm.

“I’ll just …” She gulped, fighting tears of both pain and disappointment. “I’ll just take a taxi back to the hotel and wrap my knee in ice. If it’s still hurting tomorrow, I’ll find a doctor.”

“Oh, Jaci.” Susan Grimes clucked her tongue in sympathy. “I know how much you were looking forward to the Sound and Light Show this evening.”

“How about I offer a solution?”

The whole group, Jaci included, looked to her rescuer.

She’d had plenty of time to study his profile while he’d carted her up the slope. The strong, square chin. The gray eyes framed by lashes as black as his neatly trimmed hair. The faded, almost invisible scar above his left eyebrow.

She’d had time, too, to feel the muscles under his lightweight tan sport coat. He’d carried her so easily, with such a sure, long-legged stride. No doubt about it. The man was buff.

“The show doesn’t start until dusk,” he said in a slow, easy voice that hinted at Southwestern roots. “That’s a good three hours yet.”

Three hours to sit in her hotel room with an ice pack on her knee. What a way to spend her evening! Jaci tried not to let her disappointment show while her rescuer continued.

“The wife of one of my business contacts here in Cairo is a physician. She operates a clinic just across the river. I could drive you there, have her check you out and bring you back to your group in time for the show.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You have business to take care of.”

A look she couldn’t quite interpret flickered in his slate-gray eyes.

“My plans are nothing if not flexible. Hold on. Let me call my friend.”

Like she could do anything else? Wobbling on one leg like a tipsy stork, she clung to his arm while he flipped up a cell phone. The fact that he had his business contact on speed dial told Jaci he dealt with the man on a regular basis.

“Kahil. It’s Deke. Is Fahranna holding clinic today?”

His glance cut to Jaci. Smiling, he nodded.

“Good. How about giving her a heads-up to let her know I’m bringing in a patient?” He paused a moment, listening, and his smile took a wry tilt. “I’ll explain later.”

“I don’t feel right about this,” Jaci protested after he hung up. “You have other things to do besides chauffeur me around Cairo. If you’ll give me the address of the clinic, I’ll take a taxi.”

“It’s your call. But …” Her rescuer shrugged. “You might find yourself taking the long way into town. Cairo taxi drivers have elevated milking tourists to a fine art.”

Jaci hesitated. During her day and a half in Egypt’s capital, she’d found the people to be warm and friendly. Falling prey to a wily camel driver hadn’t changed that opinion but it had made her a little more cautious.

Mrs. Grimes, too. Hands on hips, the silver-haired grandmother demanded some identification. “How do we know you’re who you say you are and not some white slaver?”

“You don’t,” he replied with a nod of approval for her caution. “Here’s my card. If it’ll reassure you, we can give my operations center a call. I have someone on duty 24/7.”

Jaci hovered on her good leg and peered at the card with Mrs. Grimes. The embossed lettering identified Deke Griffin as CEO of Griffin Aeronautical Consultants, based in Arlington, Texas.

“Aeronautical?” Mrs. Grimes read aloud. “Are you a pilot?”

“You bet,” he replied, his mouth curving.

Later, much later, Jaci would kick herself for letting that cocky grin erase all doubts about driving off with a stranger. At that particular moment, though, all she saw were a pair of glinting gray eyes and an impossibly sexy smile.

“If you’re sure it’s no trouble?” she said a little breathlessly.

“No trouble at all.”

“Then I’ll take you up on your kind offer.”

“Good. Keep the card,” he told Mrs. Grimes as he scooped Jaci up in his arms again. “Have your tour guide call me in a half hour or so, and I’ll let y’all know what the doc says.”

The address on the card and that easy “y’all” confirmed Jaci’s initial guess. The man sprang from Western stock.

Unlike her. Born and raised in Illinois, she’d followed her high school sweetheart’s lead and applied to the University of Florida. Unfortunately, Bobby had used the year between his graduation and hers to dramatically expand his sexual horizons. Worse, he hadn’t bothered to tell Jaci he wanted to continue his extracurricular activities until after she’d shown up for her first semester.

She’d endured a miserable four months while he strutted around campus with a variety of different women. Then his partying and late nights caused him to flunk out at the end of the semester. Jaci considered that sweet justice, but his abrupt departure from her life didn’t lessen the sting.

She’d pressed on and completed her degree in library science. A subsequent job offer at the university’s Architecture and Fine Arts Library had kept her in Florida after graduation. She’d never joined the lively on-campus party crowd, though—or the beach bunnies who headed for white sands and green waters every weekend. Her values were still solidly Midwestern, and her interests were more academic than social. Work filled her days, and an assortment of study groups took up several evenings a week.

It was one of those groups that had hooked her on ancient cultures—especially Egypt. Since joining the group, Jaci had dreamed of visiting this cradle of modern civilization. Three years of watching her pennies had made the trip a reality. She refused to let a fall from a camel ruin it!

She confided as much to her knight errant once he’d deposited her in the passenger seat of his rental car and had taken the wheel.

“I really, really appreciate you doing this. I can’t afford to waste a minute of my time in Egypt.”

He slanted her a quick look. “Have a full schedule laid out, do you?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe! I’ve been planning this trip for ages.”

She settled back in the seat, thinking of the months of study and preparation that had gone into her trip. Thank goodness for the Thursday-night group. One of the members had been born in Egypt. A former adjunct professor at the Health Science Center, Dr. Abdouh had retired from medicine years ago. He’d been a great help to Jaci in preparing for her great adventure.

She would have to email him about her near disastrous camel ride and send him a digital picture of the little scarab now tucked in her tote bag. Maybe he could interpret the markings on the beetle’s back. He’d probably tell her the inscription read “Made in China,” she thought ruefully. She didn’t care. It was …

A shrill horn and the screech of tires cut into her musing. Gasping, she thrust out an arm to brace herself as a taxi shot into their lane. Her self-appointed chauffeur stood on the brakes and let loose with some Arabic. When Cairo’s unbelievable snarl of exhaust-spitting traffic had sorted out a little, Jaci gave him a sideways glance.

“You must spend a lot of time in Egypt if you’ve learned to speak the language.”

“I’ve picked up a few phrases. Not anything you’d want me to translate, though.”

There it was again—that quicksilver grin. Jaci felt its impact all the way down to her toes. She curled them inside her sneakers and barely cringed when Deke had to swerve into another lane to avoid a donkey cart filled with cabbages piled to an impossible height.

Jaci twisted around for a better look. This was Cairo at its most vivid, she thought on a rush of pure delight. Donkeys were vying for road space with exhaust-spewing vehicles. Multistory concrete buildings were decorated with Arabic arches. Old men were fishing in canals dug by their ancestors millennia ago.

“So where’s home for you, Jaci?”

The question brought her back around in her seat. “Gainesville, Florida. I’m an assistant research librarian at the university there.”

“Guess that explains the gator on your friend’s visor. The lady who took me for a white slaver.”

“That’s Mrs. Grimes,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “She’s a former high school teacher. She takes nothing—and no one—at face value.”

“Smart lady.”

Very smart, Ace thought with a sideways glance at his target.

“Here we are.”

He dodged a stream of oncoming vehicles and pulled through an arched entry into a palm-lined courtyard. Kahil’s Egyptian-born, American-educated wife had opened her free clinic two years ago. Ace had been present at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. His company also contributed heavily to the clinic’s operation. Dr. Fahranna El Hassan was nothing if not persuasive.

She was also tall, slender, gorgeous—and iron-willed enough to have tamed Wild Man Kahil. And now that she had her husband on a short leash, she’d moved Ace to the top of her list for reform—a fact she reminded him of after an attendant had showed him and Jaci Thornton into an exam room and the doctor burst into the room.

“Deke!” She threw her arms around him, digging her stethoscope into his chest as she kissed him on both cheeks. “Why didn’t you give Kahil and me more warning of your visit? I have a cousin I want you to meet. She just might be the woman to wean you from your evil ways. Or …”

Her curious eyes swept over the female perched on the edge of an exam table.

“Have you brought one of your own for me to check out?”

“Curb your matchmaking instincts, Fahranna. I’ve brought you a patient.”

All brisk business now, the physician addressed Jaci in her usual blunt manner. “I am Dr. El Hassan. And you are?”

“Jaci Thornton. Mr. Griffin, uh, Deke and I just met.”

Fahranna lifted one delicately arched brow. “Did you?”

“We were at the pyramids. He was kind enough to bring me here after I fell off a camel.”

“Ah, yes,” she said with a wry smile. “The camels. What did you injure?”

“My knee, but it hardly hurts anymore.”

“Let’s take a look at it, shall we? You will have to remove your slacks. Deke, take yourself back to the waiting room.”

To Jaci’s relief, Dr. El Hassan’s diagnosis confirmed her own. She hadn’t broken any bones, just collected another bruise. The doctor recommended an ice pack if her knee started to swell and heavy-duty aspirin for pain.

When she walked Jaci to the waiting room, Deke tossed aside the newspaper he’d been perusing and offered his arm for support. Jaci took it with a shy smile that the physician didn’t fail to note.

“You must come for dinner,” she announced with a gleam in her dark eyes. “Kahil will want to meet the woman who moves his friend to such noble acts of chivalry.”

Jaci opened her mouth to decline the offer, but her companion preempted her.

“You know I never turn down a free dinner, Fahranna. I’ll give you a call later and set up a time that fits with your schedule and Jaci’s.”

Chapter 3

Ace waited until he had his target back in the rental car and was headed back to Giza to dig the hook in deeper.

“How long will you be in Cairo, Jaci?”

“Three more days.”

“What does your agenda look like?”

“It’s packed, morning to night. We’re doing a breakfast cruise on the Nile, a visit to the pyramids of Saqqara and a whole afternoon at the Cairo Museum.”

With its priceless gold and lapis lazuli statue of the goddess Ma’at, Ace remembered with a sudden tightening of his belly.

Coincidence? Could be. A trip to Cairo’s famed museum was on every tourist’s agenda.

“And,” his passenger added with a flush of excitement, “we’re going to the Valley of the Kings! We’ve got a whole day to explore Luxor and Karnak.”

The Valley of the Kings, where Hatshepsut had constructed the temple to Ma’at. The same temple supposedly raided by tomb robbers more than a thousand years ago, giving birth to the legend that the goddess would someday send a messenger that it was time to restore cosmic order.

Another coincidence? Once again, it could be. But Ace had spent too many years in this business to take anything on supposition.

“What evening could you have dinner with Fahranna and her husband? You need to see their home,” he added when she looked doubtful. “It’s been in Fahranna’s family for generations. The mosaic tiles in the entryway were supposedly fired in the same kiln as the tiles in the Grand Mosque.”

“Really?”

She chewed on her lower lip, obviously torn. Ace reeled her in even further.

“The garden alone will make think you’re in something right out of Arabian Nights. Moorish arches, marble fountains, swaying palms. Last time I was there, they even had a nightingale warbling away.”

“It sounds incredible.”

“It is. How about tomorrow evening?”

She’d taken the bait. Her eyes were as bright as emeralds.

“If that works for you and your friends.”

Ace knew damn well Kahil would make it work. His people were closely monitoring the sudden spurt of emails and cell phone chatter that mentioned Jacqueline Thornton by name. The colonel had already indicated to Ace that he wanted to make his own assessment of Thornton’s motives for visiting his country.

“I’ll give them a call later and let you know.”

He cut the wheel to avoid a wobbly cyclist and decided to go straight for the jugular.

“So what brought you to Egypt?”

“My Thursday-night study group,” she answered with a smile. “We meet once a week to explore ancient civilizations. We’ve been focusing on Egypt for the past year and … well, guess you could say I’m hooked.”

“On?”

Her hand made circles in the air. “The culture, the history, the architecture, the rich pantheon of gods and goddesses. They all fascinate me.”

“The gods and goddesses, huh?” He shot her a quick look. “I don’t know that much about Egypt’s ancient deities, but from what my friends have told me, there were a bunch of ‘em. Anyone in particular catch your interest?”

“Yes!”

Ace gripped the wheel as she angled toward him, her face alight. He paid no attention to her sparkling green eyes this time or the way the ends of her soft brown hair brushed her cheek. His entire being was focused on the seemingly artless disclosures that spilled from her lips.

“I’m thoroughly intrigued by the goddess Bast.”

Bast? Was that another name for Ma’at? Ace knew most Egyptian gods and goddesses had changed names and shapes over the various dynasties. Had he missed that one?

“She was the Egyptian cat goddess,” Jaci related eagerly. “Did you know the Egyptians highly revered house cats?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“It’s true. Cats helped keep vermin out of grain supplies and would kill snakes, especially cobras. Owners would adorn their cats with jeweled collars, even let them eat from their plates at the table. If the owners were wealthy enough, they would have their household ‘protector’ mummified. Supposedly, more than three hundred thousand mummified cats were discovered when one of Bast’s temples was excavated.”

“Three hundred thousand?”

“I know. Sounds wild, doesn’t it? Unless you’re a cat lover.”

“Like you?” Ace guessed.

“Like me,” she agreed, grinning. “I’ve got two.”

Figured. A college librarian with those wholesome, girl-next-door good looks. Not the type to go for a pit bull or a big, galumphing Lab.

“One—Mittens—is the laziest feline in the universe. She usually can’t be bothered to do more than lift her head and twitch her tail when I come home from work. The other—Boots—is more lively. The little stinker has shredded two sets of living room drapes.”

Good Lord! Mittens and Boots.

Restraining a grimace, Ace gave his passenger another quick glance. Was she for real? Or really, really good at projecting an air of wide-eyed innocence to disguise other, more suspicious activities? Damned if he could decide … yet.

He had pretty well made up his mind by the time he pulled into the parking lot for the Sound and Light Show.

Jaci Thornton had to be exactly what she seemed—the archetypal American tourist on the trip of a lifetime. When Ace had brought up Ma’at, she’d scrunched her forehead and said she’d read something about that goddess but couldn’t recall specific details.

He’d then casually steered the conversation to Egypt’s current political situation. Other than knowing the name of the current president and that he advocated reforms that had stirred opposition among some conservatives, Jaci didn’t seem to have a clue as to who led the opposition.

She’d sounded so convincing, so sincere, that Ace was ninety-nine percent sure she was the naive, trusting tourist she appeared to be. Until he’d satisfied the remaining one percent doubt, however, he didn’t intend to let the woman out of his sight.

He made sure of that by parking the car and insisting she let him walk her to the entry point for the Sound and Light Show.

“I’m fine, Deke. Honestly. My knee hardly hurts at all anymore. I can navigate on my own.”

“Save your breath. No way I’m going to just dump you in the parking lot. Besides,” he added as he hooked her arm through his, “I’ve never seen the laser light show. I’m thinking I might join you. If you don’t mind?”

Mind?

Jaci’s heart skipped a beat. Like she would mind sitting under the stars with this kind, thoughtful, incredibly sexy man?