The Soul Jar

by Jennifer Colgan

  Despite that promise, her stomach rolled into a hard little ball and sank to her toes when she saw him. Striding up the wide, dingy sidewalk looking like an urban cowboy in his steel-toed boots, skinny dark-blue denims, and a crisp white shirt, he took her breath away—more so than the next stifling cloud of exhaust that billowed in from a passing bus.

  She peered over the top of her sunglasses and twisted her mouth into a disparaging pucker to hide the embarrassing flutter of excitement in the center of her chest. “It’s about damn time.”

  “What? The flight doesn’t leave for ninety minutes. We’ll be on the security lines for most of that time anyway.” He leaned over and before she could escape, he kissed her cheek. The light brush of his lips turned her insides molten. The scent of musky cologne attacked her senses and almost sent her reeling into an erotic fantasy. Her nipples went hard. That scent had always turned her on so fast. Everything about Chance turned her on, and only thoughts of his ultimate betrayal sliced through the dreamy fog that threatened to obliterate her good sense.

  “Where’s my ticket?”

  “This is your friend?” A rasping voice that sounded like a frog on steroids interrupted their conversation.

  Bree looked around Chance’s torso at the short, bald man who had scurried up behind him. “And you are?”

  Chance jockeyed a little to keep Bree and the newcomer apart even as the little man thrust his hand out toward her. “Gino Carloni, dollface. Have you ever done any modeling work? My day job, of course, I’m in security, but on the side I do art photography, and you’ve got a rack that could make you big bucks.”

  Chance winced, and Bree’s mouth dropped open. Her hand went limp in Gino’s grasp, and she pulled it back as though it might be irreversibly contaminated.

  “Gino, you’re a slug,” Chance said out of the corner of his mouth.

  “What? It’s a compliment.”

  Bree turned her attention back to Chance as he pushed Gino behind him. “New partner?”

  “It’s a temporary arrangement. Gino is an insurance policy of sorts.”

  “Insurance against what? Good taste?”

  Chance gave her a half smile, and her heart stopped for an instant. This was not going to work. She thought of just giving him the jar and running away. She could change her name, her looks, her accent and create a new life for herself. In a year, or ten, she’d get over him, get over the crushing pain of seeing him again.

  “Why don’t we check in, and I’ll answer your questions.”

  “There aren’t enough hours left in your lifetime to answer all my questions,” she said with a sidelong glance at the leering Gino. “I want my ticket, and I want you gone.”

  “Oh, no. That’s not going to work.” Chance’s insurance policy put his hand on her arm. The contact made her feel dirty. “You got the jar. We want the jar. You cooperate or you get hurt.”

  Bree’s gaze flew to Chance’s. “What the hell is this? You brought this little prick with you to threaten me?”

  “No. Touch her again, and I’ll rip your heart out and show it to you.” Chance yanked Gino’s hand from Bree’s arm and shoved him back a step. Bree noted the skycap watching their exchange from the corner of his eye. This wasn’t the place to be having an argument. Airports didn’t tolerate that sort of thing anymore, and if they weren’t careful they’d all end up in a security office undergoing body cavity searches. Considering she had more body cavities to search than Gino or Chance did, Bree didn’t relish the prospect.

  “Boys, why don’t we check in as Chance suggested and talk about this calmly?”

  Chance sighed and leaned close again. Bree’s heart skipped another beat. “Make this easy on both of us, baby. Give me the jar and get in the next empty cab that pulls up.”

  “No.” The word came out cold and blunt. Bree stood her ground even as another cool blast of toxic air rushed up her skirt.

  “Then let’s check in, sweetheart, and get down to business.”

  Bree remained in her spot while Chance dealt with the skycap. She saw one of those new clear credit cards and heard the man thanking Chance for a generous tip as a wad of bills disappeared into the pocket of his overcoat. A moment later, they were ushered through the sliding doors and into the airport’s enormous lobby. Chance handed Bree her ticket folder and that’s when she noticed that the black knapsack slung over his shoulder was identical to the one she wore.

  Bastard. He’s got a plan.

  “Let’s head for the gate. We can talk after we’ve gone through security.”

  Bree glanced at Gino, who strutted ahead of them, confident that they’d keep up. He didn’t look like the type of person who would breeze through a checkpoint of any kind. She wondered what kind of weapons he was carrying and if he was really smart enough to smuggle them onto the plane.

  “This better be good, MacKenzie,” she said as she matched her stride with his. She’d forgotten how fast those long, strong legs could carry him and she had to run a little to keep up as they wound their way through throngs of travelers toward the long lines at the security check points. “I’m not as patient and understanding as I used to be.”

  Chapter Four

  As they made their way toward gate security, Chance tried to forget about Gino for a moment and concentrate on Bree. She looked like sin on a stick, and by God he’d have eaten her alive if they’d been alone.

  Her dress had a square neckline that revealed enough cleavage to get her anywhere she wanted to go. The hem crested somewhere well above mid-thigh and the sassy print in bold colors accentuated her curves in all the right places. Gino might be a cretin, but he was no liar. With her hair brushed back from her face and spilling over her shoulders, and her long, tanned legs stretching down to a sumptuous pair of strappy shoes, she looked like a celebrity. Chance recognized the tactic. Hide in plain sight. And keep the male population throbbing with dirty thoughts that made them weak kneed and a little stupid.

  Yep. It was certainly working on Gino who had fallen behind them, where he had a much better view of Bree’s rear assets.

  Chance decided he’d pound the enticing vision of Bree’s swaying hips out of Gino’s memory later. Right now he wanted to get somewhere quiet where he could begin to explain…or rather lie to her convincingly about what was going on.

  The next hour passed like Chinese water torture, with the seconds dripping by in agonizing clarity. Step by step they shuffled through the roped off waiting lines like cattle. Bree glared at Chance. Gino opened his mouth a few times to speak, and Chance glared at Gino to shut him up. When they’d made it through the X-ray stalls and survived the hand search of their shoes and Chance’s laptop carrying case without incident, he felt a slight weight lifting from his chest.

  Home-free until D.C., when they had to go through it all again.

  On the far side of the security lines, the crowds thinned out. Passengers milled around, sipping coffee, playing handheld video games and talking on cell phones. Most of the chairs in the area of their gate were already full of business travelers who slouched behind copies of the New York Times or tapped away at Palm Pilots.

  Gino wandered over to the huge windows to gaze out at the departing planes. Chance found it odd that his bodyguard, whose hobby was medieval torture devices, struck up an enthusiastic conversation with a boy of about five who stood by the windows clutching an orange teddy bear and a juice box. A meeting of intellects, Chance supposed.

  At least he was finally alone with Bree. He led her to a bank of empty seats near the causeway door and motioned for her to sit.

  “Before you say anything, I’m not falling for the old bait and switch routine, MacKenzie. I’m not letting go of this knapsack under any circumstances. I’ve got caffeine pills in my bag, and I won’t sleep or blink until we reach Cairo.” She bombarded him the moment her sumptuous fanny touched the vinyl seat cushion. He had no choice but to smile at her astuteness.

  “Ah, sweetheart. I’m not trying to play you.
”

  “Bull.”

  He glanced at Gino, who seemed to be extolling the virtues of in-flight meal service to his diminutive audience. “I bought this to throw Gino off the trail later on, not you.”

  The look in her eyes said she didn’t buy it. He wouldn’t have expected her to.

  “What’s the deal with him anyway?” She crossed her legs at the knee, revealing enough thigh to distract Chance from any thought of Gino—and to make him a little jealous. The place was crawling with businessmen, more than a few of whom had already cast appreciative glances at Bree when she’d sashayed by them.

  “Gino was assigned to help me retrieve the jar.”

  “Assigned by whom?”

  “Not important right now. Let’s just—”

  “Yes, it is important. What are you involved in? The jar is a national treasure, a priceless antiquity that belongs in Egypt. I’ve been hired to bring it back to the temple that Chen’s sons stole it from. Anyone else is just looking to make a profit from selling it.”

  Just as talkative as ever, Chance thought. When they were together he rarely got a word in, and often had to resort to kissing her senseless if he wanted her quiet long enough to listen to him. He opened his mouth to reply, and true to form, she continued on, plowing over him, her voice hushed but firm.

  “I don’t know what game you’ve got going, but I know you’re on the wrong side of this. Your friend over there is proof enough of that. I’m not letting you have the jar…and quit calling me sweetheart. I’m not your sweetheart anymore.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Chance leaned back, stung by the vehemence of her words and the no-nonsense edge in her voice. Though she looked exactly as he remembered her—more beautiful, if that were possible—the hard glint in her eyes showed that she’d aged a lifetime since they parted. He hated that he’d done that to her, but he couldn’t take it back.

  “I don’t want apologies. It’s too late for—”

  Chance held up a hand, halting her diatribe. “I didn’t pull this little stunt just so I could apologize.”

  That hurt. He watched her eyes go steely. Regardless, he pressed on. “This isn’t about you and me. I have to get that jar to my client in Cairo who happens to be threatening to kill a friend of mine if I don’t cooperate. My client isn’t the rightful owner of anything. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about national treasures or priceless antiquities. To him, everything has a price. I don’t like what I’ve got to do, but I don’t have a choice at the moment. The fact that you’re involved makes my job a hell of a lot harder.”

  “Is it someone I know? Your friend?”

  The question surprised him. Had he gotten through the tough outer shell she’d grown without actually having to lie? “An Egyptologist named Sam Mallory.”

  “And Gino is insurance?” She looked skeptical, and Chance didn’t blame her. He’d wondered about Gino’s abilities too, until he saw the man murder one of Garadeshi’s lackeys with gleeful precision. Gino didn’t need weapons to hurt people, but he enjoyed using them when he didn’t want to get his hands dirty.

  “Trust me when I say there’s more to Gino than meets the eye. Right now if I do anything he doesn’t like, he can make one phone call and get Dr. Mallory killed.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  So much, he thought. The truth would only draw her in too deep, just like last time when he’d thought the only way to protect her from his enemies was to turn her into one of them. “I’ve told you all I can. You can still walk out of here. Give me the jar and go. I can make it financially worth your while.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes even deeper than before. He’d truly insulted her this time.

  “What makes you think my only motivation is money?”

  He smirked. “You’re morally committed to restoring Egypt’s lost national artifacts?”

  “What if I am?” Her eyes held a challenge, but her voice hitched. Clearly, she was holding something back as well.

  “I’d say good for you. You can rest assured knowing the Soul Jar will be back in Egypt in less than a day and it will remain there forever.”

  “Yes, because I’m going to deliver it.”

  “Bree…”

  Her eyes clouded over for a moment. Each time he said her name she seemed to melt a little. Knowing he still had some effect on her feelings restored a portion of the dead part of his heart. In time maybe he could find the woman he loved again, the woman he’d been forced to throw away.

  “I don’t trust you, MacKenzie. I hope I don’t have to explain why.”

  No. She didn’t. He’d never expected it to be easy, but they still had almost a full day of travel time during which he planned to turn the tide in his favor.

  “I’m not asking you to trust me, luv. Trust yourself. You can see this is a bad deal.” He nodded toward Gino who now stood alone by the windows, his diminutive acquaintance having wandered back to parental safety. “Trust your instincts. I know that little voice in the back of your head is telling you to get out now while you still can.”

  Bree jiggled her leg impatiently, her lips pursed in contemplation. “I only trust facts these days. My instincts certainly didn’t do me any good the last time we were together, did they?”

  Chance rose from his chair, unable to meet her eyes. “No. I guess I can’t argue that, luv. You should have known better than to get involved with a guy like me.”

  “Trust this, MacKenzie. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Chapter Five

  The flight from New York to D.C. lasted less than ninety minutes, during which Bree remained occupied by reading and re-reading an in-flight magazine. In the hour before their connecting flight to Frankfurt, Germany, she led Chance and his bald shadow on a brisk walk to one of Dulles Airport’s numerous bookshops. There she purchased what she hoped was a meaty romance novel and a bottle of spring water.

  While they waited by their gate for boarding, she popped a caffeine pill into her mouth and washed it down with a quarter of the bottle.

  “Those things are bad for your metabolism,” Chance remarked as she stuffed the yellow box of pills back into her toiletries case. “If you don’t sleep between now and Cairo, you’ll be a zombie. The jet lag will last for weeks.”

  Bree ignored him and sipped more water. Gino gave her a baleful look. “Hey, dollface, could I bum one of those from you?”

  “Give him six,” Chance urged. “I’ll buy you a supersize coffee to wash them down.”

  Gino muttered a stream of curses and, despite Bree’s dislike of him, she found herself retrieving the package and dropping one of the small, white tablets into his palm.

  “Thanks.” He tossed the pill into his mouth and reached for her water, which she immediately pulled out of his grasp.

  “No way. You’re not drinking from my bottle. Get your own.”

  “Aw…this think tathes awhtful,” he slurred while trying to chew the tablet.

  “Order yourself a scotch when we get on board. That’ll kill the taste.”

  Gino brightened at Chance’s suggestion. “Good idea. I hope they have a decent movie. Watching you two mope bores the crap out of me. I thought you were friends.”

  “Is that what you told him?” Bree crossed her arms and gave Chance a poisonous look. “He didn’t mean friends as much as he meant two people who can’t stand each other.”

  Gino bobbed his head knowingly. “So tall-boy here is a dud in the sack, right?”

  Bree laughed out loud, and Chance glowered. “Gino.”

  “Come on. What else would make dollface so chilly? Ozzie here is like a poster boy for…poster boys, so a dish like you should be falling all over him. Instead you look at him like he’s the dog’s dinner, therefore he must not ’a been able to get you off. Now, if you’re in the market for a real man—”

  Bree wasn’t sure whether to laugh or retch. “Gino, I don’t have a man shortage. Thanks for the offer, but trust me, I’m booked.”

 
Chance transferred his evil look to Bree, and her cheeks began to heat with his sudden scrutiny. She’d succeeded in making him jealous. Could it be he still had a little flame for her? Not that it mattered of course, but it took a little edge off the pain of seeing him again to know that the thought of her with another man bothered him.

  Gino shrugged. “Just keep my offer in mind. When you get tired of the pretty boys, come to me, get it?”

  Chance rolled his eyes.

  “I get it,” Bree said with a smirk. “I get plenty of it.”

  They boarded a short while later, and Chance had to physically restrain Gino from claiming the seat next to Bree. He slid his lean frame into the narrow seat beside her and reached down to help her stow her knapsack under the seat in front of her.

  “Get your hands off the bag, MacKenzie.”

  “I’m just making sure the jar is all right.”

  “It’s fine.” She eyed him until he sat up and busied himself with his seat belt. How could she survive eight hours sardined next to him like this? Good Lord! Maybe she’d be better off in the aisle seat with Gino on one side of her and empty space on the other. At least her disgust for the bodyguard was manageable. Her feelings for Chance were not.

  Once the plane took off, Bree cracked open her novel and forced herself to concentrate on the story. That, and making sure her bare knee didn’t touch Chance’s denim clad thigh, kept her occupied for several tension-filled hours.

  When she finally permitted herself a quick glance in his direction, she saw he’d fallen asleep. Beside him, Gino sipped scotch and soda and watched the in-flight movie.

  For the first time since she’d arrived at LaGuardia, Bree allowed herself to relax. She let her book settle into her lap and let her mind drift back to simpler times.

  When she’d met Chance, the attraction had been instant and undeniable. They’d gone from wary acquaintances to lovers in the space of a week, and by the time six months had passed in a passionate blur, Bree found she couldn’t imagine how she had survived the first twenty-five years of her life without him.