Under A Desert Moon

Mohammed shouted from the front of the boat and pointed ahead of them.

‘Cairo,’ Seb explained. ‘Is it your first visit?’

Emma nodded, her eyes widening with excitement.

‘You won’t want to miss this.’

Seb stood and held out his hand to help Emma rise to her feet. They moved to the edge of the felucca and watched the city take shape before their eyes.

Ten years ago when Seb had left England he’d been directionless, moving from place to place. He hadn’t known where he would settle or how he would make a living. He’d sailed down the Nile in a felucca very much like this one and when he’d caught his first glimpse of Cairo he’d known he was home.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Emma said.

Seb had heard Cairo being called many things but beautiful wasn’t the usual response. Most people fresh from the rolling green hills of England thought Cairo was dirty and dusty. Only a few saw the gem nestled in the desert, the charm of the whitewashed buildings and the narrow streets.

‘This is only the beginning,’ he said quietly to Emma.

She turned to him, the enthusiasm evident on her face.

‘I want to see it all,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually here.’

Seb watched her as she looked out at the dusty city. He wondered what this well-brought-up young lady was doing so far away from home. There were plenty of Europeans in Cairo—the West had become interested in what Egypt had to offer in the last few years—but you didn’t see many unmarried, basically unchaperoned young women out here on their own.

He glanced at Emma’s elderly protector. He was originally from Egypt, if Seb wasn’t much mistaken. He watched his young mistress like a hawk, but Seb doubted he would be much use if she actually got herself into a dangerous situation. And he didn’t think Miss Emma Knight was the retiring kind of woman who kept herself out of danger well.

‘What are your plans when we reach Cairo?’ Seb asked.

For the first time since he’d met her, Seb noticed a veil come down over Emma’s expression. She glanced at him warily.

‘We will be staying with Colonel and Mrs Fitzgerald,’ she said after a few seconds. ‘They were friends of my father and have promised to help me arrange some trips to see different temples and tombs.’

Intriguing. If he wasn’t much mistaken she had a hidden agenda, something she didn’t want him to know about.

‘Mrs Fitzgerald is at the centre of the Cairo social scene.’

Emma looked at him quizzically. ‘There’s a Cairo social scene?’

He laughed. ‘Nothing like what you’d be used to in London, I’m sure.’

‘Are you part of this social scene?’

Seb glanced at her again. Anyone else with that question he would have assumed was flirting with him, but Emma’s face was free from guile. She was just genuinely interested.

‘The runaway son of an English lord? I’m the guest of honour at most of these events. The community here does love a little bit of scandal.’

He saw her face fall as he said the word scandal and wondered if Emma was running from something back home, too. He couldn’t imagine the woman in front of him being embroiled in anything worth gossiping about. She was too open, too sweet in nature.

He didn’t have time to enquire further. Mohammed shouted a request and immediately Seb was on his feet, helping his old friend guide the felucca into the jetty.

Seb breathed in the smell of the city. He felt at home in Cairo. He loved going on trips around Egypt, searching for lost temples or tombs, seeking the pharaohs’ treasures of old, but he felt most happy in Cairo.

Once the felucca was secured Seb waited whilst Ahmed and Emma got ready to disembark.

‘There’s a bit of a gap,’ he said. ‘Watch you don’t fall.’

Emma gathered her skirts in her hand and lifted her foot to step over the side of the felucca. Seb could see she was going to trip before her foot even met the wood. She stumbled, careening towards the water. Instinctively he leant forward and swept her into his arms. He lifted her over the side of the boat and set her gently down on the wooden jetty. Her body was pressed against his and he could feel she was trembling slightly. She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the sun, and her lips parted a little.

Seb felt his head dip towards hers slowly. One arm was looped around her waist, holding her close to him. The other hand reached up, brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. It was an intimate act, and Seb could feel Emma’s body responding to him. In that instant she wanted to be kissed. And he wanted to kiss her. But he wasn’t stupid enough to act on his urges.

Reluctantly Seb released her. Emma’s head dipped low, her eyes refusing to meet his, and he saw the first tint of a blush colouring her cheeks.

‘Thank you for catching me,’ she said, looking up at him again.

Seb swallowed. She was everything he couldn’t have, and right now she was everything he wanted.

Chapter Three

‘It’s far too dangerous for a gently bred young woman to be gallivanting off into the wilds of Egypt without a proper escort,’ Mrs Fitzgerald said. There were murmurs of agreement from the other guests around the table.

‘I wouldn’t be on my own, I’d have Ahmed with me,’ Emma protested.

‘Still, it’s not right. If I allowed you to risk yourself in such a way, your dear papa would never forgive me.’

Emma resisted the urge to point out her dear papa was dead. And that he’d spent most of his youth dragging her mother from camp to camp to study this or that new Egyptian discovery.

‘Really you’d be much better to stay in Cairo with us,’ Mrs Fitzgerald said. ‘We can help arrange for you to have a tour of the new Museum of Antiquities. And you can get up close to the pyramids.’

Emma nodded and tried to look enthusiastic. She was sure Cairo had a lot to offer her. She had been staring at paintings of the pyramids for years, dreaming of the day she’d see them for herself, but this was her adventure and she wasn’t going to let Mrs Fitzgerald stand in her way of seeing the more inaccessible parts of Egypt.

‘Don’t you agree, dear?’ Mrs Fitzgerald turned to her husband, who was sitting quietly next to Emma.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, not looking up from his plate. ‘Far too dangerous.’

Mrs Fitzgerald nodded triumphantly and promptly changed the subject.

‘I’ll put you in touch with just the chap to be your guide,’ Colonel Fitzgerald said to Emma quietly. She glanced at him but he hadn’t moved at all. She suspected his wife would not forgive him for going against her advice.

‘Thank you,’ Emma whispered.

‘So how long are you out here, Miss Knight?’ a portly older gentleman Emma thought might have been called Sir Henry asked her.

‘At least a couple of months,’ she said. ‘My father talked of Egypt and Cairo incessantly when I was young. Now that he’s gone, I want to experience everything he told me about.’

‘Shame a young girl like you hasn’t got a husband to take her around the sights,’ Sir Henry said, wiggling his eyebrows in a way Emma suspected he thought was suggestive.

She tried not to bristle and reminded herself to keep calm. She was twenty-five, past marriageable age in the eyes of the social circles she moved in. A few years ago comments like Sir Henry’s would have hurt her, made her feel inadequate, but Emma had become hardened to them now. She knew she would never marry, never have the family she had once craved. Now she just let the comments and questions wash over her, and tried not to be too upset when she mulled them over in her mind later on.

‘You might be well away from the first flush of youth, but I’m sure many men would still want you. Especially men of the older variety.’

Now Emma knew he was proposing himself. She looked him over and tried not to grimace. She’d rather be alone. It wasn’t that she thought physical appearance was everything. No, she’d rather have a kind heart and charitable spirit over a chiselled jaw and firm muscles any day, but she thought she should be at least a little physically attracted to any potential spouse.

‘Miss Knight decided not to marry after the incident,’ Mrs Fitzgerald said in a loud whisper.

Emma felt the heat start to creep into her face and looked around for some means of escape. It wasn’t that she’d decided not to marry, in fact she’d been certain she was going to get married. It was her liar of a fiancé who’d had other plans.

‘Ah, yes, such a shame,’ Sir Henry said. ‘But the right man might overlook that little indiscretion.’

Emma smiled blandly and wondered if she could pretend to faint. Or vomit onto her dinner plate. Anything to get her away from this conversation.

‘We’ve all made mistakes, after all. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.’ Sir Henry leaned in towards Emma and gave her an encouraging smile.

Emma glanced around, trying desperately to find some way to end this conversation. Her father had once warned her people were less subtle in Egypt. They would say things to your face rather than whisper them behind your back. He said it was because the English community out there was so small, so intimate. At the time Emma had thought it would be refreshing, not to have people whispering about her behind her back, but now she would give anything not to discuss her tainted past with people she’d only met a few hours before.

‘Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?’ Colonel Fitzgerald asked suddenly.

Emma could have hugged him.

‘But we haven’t yet had dessert,’ his wife protested.

‘I’m sure dessert will be waiting for us when we return,’ the colonel said.

He rose and offered his hand to Emma.

‘But your heart...’ Mrs Fitzgerald said.

‘Nothing wrong with my heart.’

Emma stood and allowed the elderly colonel to lead her onto the dance floor.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly as they joined the four other couples moving slowly across the floor.

The colonel nodded gruffly. ‘They’ll have moved on by the time we sit back down.’

He was right. When the dance was over Emma returned to her place at the table and was pleased to find conversation had turned to a dig a few miles outside Cairo.

‘There’s rumour it could be the big one itself. Rameses.’

There was a moment of silence around the table as everyone considered what a celebration there would be if Rameses’ tomb was uncovered.

The conversation continued and Emma turned towards Colonel Fitzgerald and listened to him discussing the fake artefacts flooding the market and deceiving well-intentioned amateur collectors back in England. As he spoke Emma glanced towards the door and felt her heart jump in her chest. Striding through the wide doorway, looking as though he’d just been blown in from the desert, was Sebastian Oakfield.

He caught her staring at him and winked, making the blood rush to Emma’s cheeks. She forced herself not to look away or bury her head as she wanted to, but instead gave a nod of acknowledgement before slowly turning back to the colonel.

She didn’t know why he affected her in such a way. They’d met only briefly. She couldn’t deny he was charming, but the fact that he was a practised charmer should have had her running for the hills even if nothing else did.

Emma risked another glance over her shoulder and almost fell off her chair as she realised he was making a beeline for their table.

‘Miss Knight,’ he said, his voice low and seductive. ‘What a pleasure to see you again.’

He turned his smile on the rest of the company and Emma felt momentarily bereft. She shook her head, trying to find the sense that had abandoned her just seconds before.

‘Ladies, what a pleasure. So many beautiful women my eyes don’t know where to look.’

The ladies around the table tittered and giggled, and Emma would have sworn Mrs Fitzgerald even batted her eyelashes at the much younger man.

‘Colonel Fitzgerald, Sir Henry.’ The two men rose and they all shook hands.

‘Why don’t you come and join our little party?’ Mrs Fitzgerald suggested.

Emma stared resolutely at her hands. She wished he wouldn’t join them; she found it hard to keep hold of her normally robust common sense when he was around.

‘I wouldn’t like to intrude...’

‘Nonsense, we’d love for you to join us.’

Not needing any more encouragement, Sebastian grabbed a chair from an empty table and placed it next to Emma’s, forcing Sir Henry farther away.

‘You never mentioned you’d already met Mr Oakfield,’ Mrs Fitzgerald said to Emma.

Sebastian turned to her with a look of shock on his face.

‘You didn’t mention our recent adventure together?’

‘Adventure?’ Mrs Fitzgerald queried, her voice rising an octave.

Emma shot Sebastian a warning look.

‘A most exhilarating adventure,’ Sebastian confirmed.

Emma groaned. There was no way Mrs Fitzgerald was going to let her out of her sight after this.

‘There I was, minding my own business on the banks of the Nile up near the Temple of Horus.’

Emma rolled her eyes involuntarily.

‘Actually, would you like to tell the story, Miss Knight?’ Sebastian asked, motioning for her to continue where he’d left off.

‘I’m not sure I know how it goes,’ Emma said.

Sebastian grinned at her and continued, ‘Well, there I was, minding my own business when I hear a shout and before I know it I’m being chased by forty heavily armed Egyptian bandits.’

Emma felt her breath rush through her lips in disbelief. She fought to keep the smile from her face. It would only encourage him.

‘Are you sure it was only forty, Mr Oakfield?’ Emma asked.

Sebastian cocked his head to one side and pretended to consider. ‘Perhaps you’re right and it was closer to fifty.’ He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forty, fifty, four hundred, however many. The end result was a lot of bandits and only one of me.’

Emma glanced around the table. He had them all enthralled.

‘I looked to my left and I looked to my right but there was nowhere to escape. I thought my time had finally come to meet the angels in heaven.’

Emma knew she wasn’t the only one who raised her eyebrows at the idea of Sebastian Oakfield going to heaven.

‘Then, across fifty feet of fast-flowing Nile water, my eyes met those of a heavenly creature and I knew I was saved. I dived into the water and swam until my lungs were about to burst. When I surfaced, Miss Knight encouraged me aboard her felucca.’

Emma remembered it rather differently, but she had to admit Sebastian had a certain way with words.

‘But I wasn’t out of danger yet. The dastardly felucca captain threatened to disembowel me before I could catch my breath. Certain I was about to die, I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable, but instead I was surprised to find Miss Knight throwing herself in front of the captain’s sword for me.’

Mrs Fitzgerald gasped and Emma groaned quietly. She doubted she’d be allowed to leave her room, let alone Cairo, for the duration of her stay.

‘Miss Knight persuaded the piratical captain to spare my life and deliver me safely to Cairo. I shall be in her debt for ever.’

He turned his attention back to Emma and took her hand, planting a kiss just below her knuckles. His lips were soft against her skin and for a moment Emma felt as if they were the only two in the room. She forgot all the trouble he’d caused her and the curious stares of the Fitzgeralds and their friends. In that moment she was only aware of her heart thumping in her chest, his lips against her skin, and the primal urge that surged up through her, willing him to pull her against him and claim her as his own.

He released her hand and Emma came tumbling back to reality. She smiled at him shakily, wondering whether he had felt the same thrum of desire as she had. She shook her head; of course he hadn’t. He was a man of the world, a charmer—he probably took a different woman to his bed every night. A man like Sebastian Oakfield wouldn’t be affected by a mere kiss on the hand, especially not with an inexperienced woman like herself.

‘Interesting,’ he murmured.

Chapter Four

‘Would you give me the pleasure of this dance, Miss Knight?’ Sebastian asked as the music swelled in the background.

Emma looked at him for a couple of long seconds before replying and for an instant he thought she might refuse.

‘Of course,’ she said and delicately got to her feet.

He led her to the dance floor, using the few seconds it took for them to weave around the tables of the other guests to analyse what had just happened. He’d been joking around, as he always did. He’d seen first a flicker of disapproval in Emma’s eyes, but soon that had transformed to amusement. Then he’d taken her hand in his and brushed his lips against her skin. Kissing a lady’s hand was something he’d done plenty of times, but never before had he felt the same jolt as he had this time, as his lips had met her skin.

Seb glanced about the room. There were plenty of pretty women dotted here and there, many of whom were giving him encouraging smiles. He’d kissed pretty women before, but he’d never felt like this.

Emma reached the dance floor and waited at the edge for him to escort her onto it. He offered her his arm and felt a thrill of pleasure as she slipped her small hand into the crook of his elbow.

She was attractive, Seb couldn’t deny it. Her dazzling blue eyes would hold any man’s attention and her lips were full and pink and just begging to be kissed. Seb cleared his throat quietly and told himself to behave. Yes, Miss Emma Knight was pretty, but the only reason she was affecting him this way was because he knew he couldn’t have her. He’d felt the same when the Egyptian authorities had denied him access to the tombs in the Valley of the Kings. Well, almost.

Glancing at Emma now, he wondered whether he would give up the chance to discover a hundred royal tombs for just one night in her arms.

He grinned. He’d always been prone to fits of romanticism.

‘I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,’ Emma said, clearly trying to make polite conversation as she’d been brought up to do.

‘I followed you here,’ Seb said bluntly.

He tried to keep a straight face as Emma’s expression turned to one of horror.

‘You followed me?’ she asked.

‘Yes, trailed you from the moment we left the dock.’

She frowned warily. ‘So you saw where I went this afternoon?’

He nodded vaguely.

‘You won’t tell the Fitzgeralds I visited the museum without them?’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Your secret’s safe with me.’

She looked at him appraisingly for a few seconds then grunted, as if satisfied.

‘You didn’t visit the museum, did you?’ he asked slowly.

‘And you didn’t follow me, did you?’

Seb grinned again. It wasn’t often he came up against anyone who gave as good as they got.

‘I didn’t follow you,’ he admitted in a low whisper. He felt her shiver as he leaned in closer and his breath tickled her ear. ‘I didn’t have to. It’s common knowledge the Fitzgeralds dine at Harcourt’s every Thursday. I knew exactly where to find you.’

She looked at him, clearly wondering whether to believe this version of events.

‘And I suppose you came specially to see me?’

‘Would you believe me if I said I couldn’t get you out of my mind?’ Seb asked.

Emma laughed.

‘You dash all the romance from a fellow,’ he grumbled, pretending to be dejected.

The truth was he had come to Harcourt’s to see her again. Seb had spent the entire afternoon feeling out of control, and if there was one thing he hated it was not being in control. Every time he sat down to translate a document or tally his accounts he would see Emma’s face, the expression of awe as she was enthralled by his description of the Temple of Horus. He kept remembering the way she had felt in his arms and kept imagining the taste of her lips. He regretted not kissing her, not brushing his lips against hers just the once so he could relive the experience at his leisure.

He glanced down at those lips now. They were pursed slightly, as if she were mildly displeased. Emma was frowning, but the twinkle in her eye told Seb that she was only pretending to disapprove.

He spun her in time to the music, marvelling at how easily she kept up. She intrigued him, this petite blonde beauty. He couldn’t understand how she’d ended up in Egypt all on her own. She was pretty, accomplished at dancing, quick-witted. She should have had men clamouring for her hand in marriage. But instead here she was, past the age when most young women had settled down, in a foreign country thousands of miles away from home.

‘I came tonight because I had to know the answer to a question that’s been plaguing me all afternoon,’ Seb said.

Emma cocked her head to one side and waited for him to continue.

‘Why have you come to Egypt?’

The shutters came down again and Emma looked at him warily. It was Seb’s turn to smile encouragingly. He held his breath, not knowing why her answer mattered so much to him.

‘My father,’ she said. ‘He passed away recently. He was an eminent Egyptologist. When I was young he would tell me the most wonderful stories about Egypt. And now...’ She trailed off.

Seb understood. She was trying to relive those memories, get closer to her father.

‘Most young women wouldn’t be brave enough to come to a foreign country on their own.’

She shrugged. ‘My father is dead, I don’t have any close relatives and I’m unlikely ever to get married. The only way I could make the trip was alone.’

Seb pulled her in closer. Unlikely ever to get married? He wondered why. There was nothing wrong with Emma that he could see. In fact he knew men who would give half their fortunes to marry a pretty and accomplished woman. She was becoming more and more intriguing.

Silently he reminded himself not to pry. He knew the value of privacy. When he’d first arrived in Cairo all those years ago, society had been almost obsessed with his reasons for leaving England. It was common knowledge that he and his father had fallen out, but over the years Seb had managed to keep the rest of the details a secret. If Emma wanted to keep her reasons for visiting Egypt close to her chest, then he wouldn’t be the one to pry them from her.

The music stopped and for a few seconds they stood completely still, locked in each other’s arms. Seb could feel the rise and fall of Emma’s chest against him and he knew she wasn’t breathless from the dance. Her lips were a rosy pink and her eyes sparkled in the light. For a moment Seb wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her off into the night, exploring her body and getting into the closed-off crannies of her mind.

Then reluctantly Emma pulled away and the spell was broken.

‘Thank you for a lovely dance, Mr Oakfield,’ she said.

Seb forced himself to smile nonchalantly, not wanting her to see how much she had affected him.

‘Would you care for a breath of fresh air?’ Seb asked, knowing he was playing with fire.

She regarded him silently for a few seconds, then nodded.

He escorted her outside onto the large terrace. They weren’t alone, which Seb knew he should be grateful for. Emma incited something inside him that he knew he had to be careful of. The last thing he needed was to be caught in a compromising situation with the very proper Miss Knight.

They made their way over to the stone balustrade and Seb watched as Emma rested her elbows on the cool surface and gazed out into the darkness. His eyes wandered over the delicate curve of her jaw up to her rosy pink lips and he felt the first stirrings of desire. His instinct was to pull her into his arms and kiss her, claim her as his own. He almost laughed at the intensity of his feelings.

He dipped his fingers into his pocket and ran the tips over the rugged surface of the Shabti he’d shown to Emma earlier. For a moment he wondered if bringing it here tonight had been a stupid idea.