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“You’re cold.” He immediately slipped out of his jacket and draped it over her exposed shoulders.
The heat of his body still permeated the coat, his scent lingering in the air. Her senses tingled at the spicy aroma. Standing in the shadow of his warmth, she trembled again as his hawk-eyed gaze scanned her face. Once more the image of a pharaoh entered her head as she looked at him.
A long finger trailed over her cheek, making her throat tighten with a knot of anticipation. The light touch tensed every muscle in her body as she saw his eyes darken. What was it about this man that made her want to forget everything but the potency of his touch?
Mesmerized, she couldn’t move, and her pulse rate jumped to more than twice its normal speed.
His gaze never left hers as his fingers glided across the base of her throat down to the low vee of her gown. The caress made her inhale sharply, and her breasts pushed against her undergarments with a painful awareness. The achy sensation skimmed its way through her limbs until it peaked just below her belly.
Hard hands encircled her arms as his jacket slipped off her shoulders and fell to the deck. She didn’t care because her body was on fire. Beneath his fingers, the thin slips of material that served as her sleeves slid downward. The action made her bodice drop to the edge of her corset and she drew in a sharp breath.
Lord but she wanted him to kiss her again. She needed to feel his mouth dancing across hers. In some deep portion of her brain, a warning rang out against this dangerous attraction, but she did nothing to stop the inexorable motion of his body pulling her against him.
Each one of her nerve endings was tuned to a feverish pitch as she trembled in his grasp. Her hands splayed across his wide chest as she looked up at him. Muscles tense with expectation, she didn’t protest as he embraced her fully in his arms. Instead she reveled in the wanton sensations bombarding her body as he held her close.
The sound of the sea enveloped them as Altair drank in the crisp scent of sea mist on her skin. The soft, delicious smell of honey drifted up from her hair. It suited her. It reflected her strength and vulnerability, but most of all it whispered a seductive invitation as powerful as the Nile itself.
Her small tongue darted out to wet her upper lip, and his cock stirred to life at the sight. The feel of her in his arms made him grow hard, and the image of her lying beneath him on a bed of silk cushions made him lower his head toward the fullness of her mouth. He knew it was insane, but he wanted one more taste of her. Perhaps it was the only way to drive her out of his head. Get these maddening images of her out of his thoughts.
“My lord.” The intrusive sound of Sully’s voice pulled a groan from Altair’s lips. Damn it to hell. Could the man have not timed his intrusion better? He quickly released Alex.
“What is it, Sully?”
“Captain said to tell you a storm’s brewing from the southwest, and that you might want to encourage the ladies to stay in their cabins.” Altair looked in the direction the sailor had stated. A dark mass of clouds had erupted into the night sky with surprising suddenness.
“Thank you, Sully. I’ll see Miss Talbot to her cabin. Please attend to Mrs. Beacon.”
“Aye, my lord.”
He turned to Alex, only to find her gone, his discarded jacket on the deck the only evidence of her recent presence. Cursing softly, he retrieved the coat and shrugged back into it. Insane, that’s what he was. Insane. What had made him think to even attempt kissing her? The answer stirred in his trousers again.
“Bloody hell,” he snarled. Reaching out for the ship’s railing, he gripped it tight beneath his fingers.
He needed to stay as far away from Alex Talbot as possible or he’d surely suffer the torment of the damned. She was intoxicating, but he needed to put her out of reach. The dull ache in his fingers reminded him of the cuts he’d suffered from the broken crystal. It was a rare occasion when someone could startle him, but Alex had done just that when she’d mentioned Nourbese’s name. Myths were many among the Mazir tribe, but of all of them, Pharaoh’s first wife was the most treasured and revered of all names.
Lightning flashed out over the water, accompanied by a clap of thunder. The waves crashing against the Moroccan Wind’s hull muffled the storm’s roar. From the way the wind had picked up, Altair knew they would soon be in the midst of heavy rain. He breathed in the fresh tang of the mist blowing into his face as his thoughts turned back to Nourbese.
Since her death, descendants of Nourbese and Pharaoh had led the Mazir tribe. Even he, despite his own half-breed existence, carried their blood in him. Her name had disappeared from ancient texts and monuments long ago, but her story lived on in the fireside tales of the Mazir storytellers. Throughout his childhood, he’d listened with fascination to the legend of his beautiful ancestor.
The temple priests in Thebes, afraid of Nourbese’s influence over Ramesses, had murdered the tribeswoman after the birth of her son. Pharaoh had just come to power, and a political struggle had prompted the heinous crime. Only the quick thinking of Nourbese’s maidservant had saved Pharaoh’s son from the same fate as his mother. With the child safely delivered to the Mazir tribe, Nourbese’s father, the Sheik el Mazir, kept his grandson hidden fearing for the child’s life.
Mad with grief at the loss of his wife and uncertain as to the fate of his son, Ramesses built an elaborate tomb for his beloved, burying her with the great ceremony befitting a queen. Not satisfied with their evil deeds, the priests broke into Nourbese’s tomb and stole her canopic jars, intent on condemning her soul to wander the void between Egypt and the afterlife.
In return, Ramesses wiped out all existence of the priest sect responsible for the atrocity, along with their temples and families. Recovering his beloved’s canopic jars and sarcophagus, Ramesses moved his government to Per-Ramesses, carrying Nourbese’s remains with him. He interred her in a cloistered location, marking her tomb with the rib of Ramesses—a sign only the woman crowned with hawk feathers would recognize.
A large drop of rain splattered across Altair’s hand. More raindrops pelted his cheeks as he turned his face up to the sky. Above him, another bolt of lightning lit the dark, illuminating the masts and unfurled sails. Captain Balfour stood on the bridge, shouting directions at crewmembers scrambling to comply with his orders. Something about the man’s stance told Altair they were in for some rough seas.
The wind had already increased its intensity in the past few minutes alone. Striding over to the stairs leading to the bridge, he reached the captain’s side in a matter of seconds.
“How bad?” he shouted over the howling gale.
“Bad enough, my lord.” Balfour pointed toward the bow of the ship and the black, starless sky ready to engulf them. “We can’t go round it. We’ll have to pass through the heart of the beast.”
Nodding, Altair barely kept his balance as a large wave crashed into the bow, roughly rolling the ship to one side. Aware he could do nothing but get in the captain’s way, he descended to the main deck and entered the dimly lit corridor leading to the main cabins. Rivulets of rain streaked down his back as he braced his hands on either wall of the corridor, waiting for the ship to recover from its roll.
A loud crash sounded in the cabin behind him, and a muffled scream tensed his muscles. Spinning around, he moved quickly to the cabin door. With his balled fist, he pounded on the wooden barrier.
“Alex, are you all right?”
Not hearing an answer, he tried to open the door. It cracked only slightly. No light came from inside the cabin, and dread scraped a bony finger over his spine. “Damn it to hell, Alex! Answer me.”
“I’m here.” The faint sound of her voice eased some of his fear.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, but I’m stuck.”
Altair threw his shoulder against the door and pushed with all his strength. This time the wood barrier gave way e
nough for him to peer into the dark cabin. From the corridor’s gaslights, he could make out trunks stacked from floor to ceiling. “JahīMī JinnīYa,” he growled in disgust.
“I am not an angel from hell, my lord, and I’ll thank you to remember that.”
“It was an expression of irritation, Alex. And to ensure I don’t use the phrase again within your hearing, these trunks are going into the hold tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll see about that,” she muttered.
Silently cursing her for her stubbornness, Altair pushed on the door again so he could slide into the cabin. In the dim light, he could make out the trunk blocking the door. He shoved it out of the way then turned to see Alex pinned against the wall by a large steamer trunk.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he set her free.
“No, I’m fine, just a little shaken.”
Once again, the ship rolled roughly to one side. Losing his balance, he stumbled forward, pinning Alex between him and the wall. With his hands pressed against the wall, her body molded itself into his hard figure. She fit him perfectly. With great effort he tried to swallow the knot of desire swelling in his throat. Reluctant to withdraw, he slowly pushed away from her.
The soft gaslight from the corridor revealed the sheerest of nightgowns covering her sensual curves, and her golden-brown hair curled riotously down onto her shoulders. His mouth went dry at the enticing sight. Even in the dim light, he could make out the dusky nipples cresting against the transparent material covering her creamy skin. They were taut buds beneath the sheer cloth. He ached to lower his head and suck on her. Without realizing his intentions, his hand touched her side, slowly moving up to just below one tempting breast.
Her gasp of surprise blew warm air across his cheek, but she didn’t resist as his thumb gently stroked her. Gold lights sparkled in her hazel eyes, and her breasts rose and fell rapidly, encouraging him to continue. With a slow caress, he slid his thumb over the swollen nipple that beckoned so invitingly through the fine silk of her sleepwear.
Again, she gasped, but it was a sound of delight. He lowered his head to the side of her soft neck, breathing in her delicious honeyed scent. She trembled against him as he kissed her creamy skin. The soft moan parting her lips captured his attention, and slanting his mouth over hers, he drank in the sweet taste of her. The heady sensation of his lips against hers shook him to the core.
She tasted even more delectable than he remembered. He cupped her fullness with his hands, his thumbs tracing circles around the hard pebbles on each breast. As she leaned into him, his cock swelled in his trousers to a hard length. Damn if she wasn’t the most tempting creature he’d caressed in a long time. She was like a desert flower, sweet smelling yet exotic to the point of distraction.
Need surged through him and he impatiently sought the heat inside her mouth. As his tongue mated with hers, triumph whetted his hunger at her tentative response. She wanted him. It delighted him that she didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she arched her body closer to him, a tiny mewl whispering from her throat.
God, but she felt good in his arms. Eager, supple and fiery, she pressed her body to him. She was a perfect fit against him. How tight would she be around his cock? The image of plunging into her made his ballocks draw up with need. At the excruciating pleasure it gave him, he shuddered against her, almost losing his seed.
Sanity lashed out at him as his cock demanded satisfaction. What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t some barbarian willing to take his pleasure of her in this manner. He was supposed to be keeping her safe from harm, but instead, he was indulging himself and his craving for her.
His body protested violently as he struggled to bring his raging desire under control. Damnation, but he wanted to take her here and now. Wanted to feel her hot passage clenching around his cock as he slid inside her. Shaken by the intensity of his emotions, he roughly pushed himself away from her. With a sharp shake of his head he tried to clear the lustful thoughts threatening to overwhelm his self-control.
“Bloody hell,” he growled. “Where’s your robe?”
“On…on the bed.” Her voice throbbed with passion, and he fought the urge to pull her back into his arms.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her filmy robe lying beneath a trunk that had fallen onto the bed. The ship rolled again and he watched the trunks teeter in their precarious positions. With a quick move, he lifted one corner of the trunk and retrieved the robe. Extending his arm in an abrupt gesture, he handed the garment to her.
“Put this on before I do more than just kiss you, woman.”
She didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. When she was completely covered, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her out into the corridor. The rolling ship threw her into his side, and his body groaned with a need he’d not assuaged in months. He’d disposed of his last mistress more than four months ago and not replaced her. Now the tempting figure clinging to his side was testing the very limits of his self-control.
He wanted nothing more than to pick her up and carry her to his cabin. Plunging into her heated silk depths would be like absorbing the warmth of a desert morning sun. He growled with self-disgust and dragged her down the narrow passageway to the cabin he knew Jane Beacon occupied.
His fist slammed into the wood with a knock that echoed the thunder bellowing outside. “Mrs. Beacon, it’s Lord Blakeney.”
Moments later, Alex’s friend opened the door, her forehead creased with worry. Not waiting for the woman to ask any questions, he thrust Alex forward. “Miss Talbot’s room is full of trunks, and the rough seas make it far too dangerous for her to sleep in there. If I hadn’t heard her scream, she might have been seriously injured or worse. She only just narrowly escaped harm.”
He didn’t look at Alex, but his fingers felt her stiffen in his tight grasp. The ship rolled again, but his firmly planted feet kept him balanced. Releasing Alex, he made to turn away. Her hand touched his sleeve halting his departure.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“You’re welcome,” he said gruffly. “Tomorrow those trunks are going into the hold.”
“But I can’t risk—”
“Tomorrow, Alex.”
Without waiting for her to argue, he strode away.
Chapter Five
As Altair stalked away down the corridor, he heard Jane Beacon’s door snap shut. Growling with frustration, he plunged into his cabin and slammed the door behind him. The woman was far too tempting a morsel to have on board his ship.
Removing his damp coat, he tossed the garment aside before he stripped his shirt off his back. It landed on top of the jacket. A large bay of windows ran the width of his stateroom, situated at the stern of the ship. From where he stood, he saw lightning snake through the sky.
The storm resembled his chaotic thoughts, but the antics of the tempest outside were no worse than the gale assaulting his inner soul. He frowned as he dimmed the gaslight attached to the wall. Damnation, he’d been a fool to agree to help Talbot with his archeological expedition. And damn the professor for putting the thought of Per-Ramesses into Alex’s head.
Why couldn’t he keep his hands off the woman? Christ, he really was the heathen the English believed him to be. He’d almost carried her in here just to satisfy his own lust. The memory of her hard nipple under his thumb sent a hot wave curling up his hand and into his arm.
Throwing himself onto the mattress, he stared up into the dark, trying to ignore the ache between his thighs. He could still feel the warmth of her body against his. Her body had felt like the morning rays of the desert sun, sultry yet echoing with a hot promise.
Another groan slipped from his mouth. Never had he experienced such a demand for release before. Usually he could control his desire, but the memory of Alex in his arms scorched his skin. He burned with need. A need he had to satisfy.
With quick movements, he freed his erection,
his mind flowing with images of Alex’s voluptuous curves as he grasped his needy cock in his hand. Stroking himself, he imagined cupping her breasts as he slid his hard length between the lush mounds. All the time, his thumbs would rub over her stiff nipples. As the silky skin of her breasts caressed his cock he could see her tongue flicking out to lick him. A harsh groan rolled out of his mouth at the thought. He could actually see her pink tongue swirling around the tip of him as he slid his cock between her breasts toward her mouth. A shudder rocked him as a new fantasy took hold in his mind.
She knelt at his feet and circled the edge of his staff with her tongue. Her touch light, she caressed his hardness with her fingers before moving to fondle his ballocks. The touch tightened the tension inside him. God, she was driving him mad. He wanted her mouth on him. Sucking him hard and fast. As if realizing the power she had over him, her hot tongue slid slowly along his engorged cock, teasing him, torturing him as he anticipated her mouth closing around him.
He groaned. Slowly she drew him into her mouth, her gaze meeting his as she slid her lips over him. There was an expression of womanly confidence in her beautiful eyes. She knew. She understood how much he wanted this. Wanted her. An instant later her mouth and throat engulfed him. The moment her silky lips clamped down on him, he cried out. Christ Jesus, where had she learned that little trick? As she rocked her mouth over his cock, her dusky nipples grazed his thigh.
Unable to help himself, he reached for one breast. Beneath his thumb, the nipple was hard, but the flesh surrounding it dimpled at his touch. When she finished sucking on him, he wanted to suck on her. He jerked as her mouth slid up and down his hard cock with more speed. The heat, the friction was driving him mad.
And then she moaned.
Christ Jesus. He closed his eyes at the hedonistic gratification engulfing him. She repeated the moan, and the sound sent vibrations rippling across his cock. A second later, her mouth tightened around him. As she sucked on him, her tongue flicked over the engorged vein just below the cap of his cock. The touch of her tongue on that spot was enough to make him give her anything she wanted. He groaned at the images flying through his head as his ballocks tightened beneath his erection.