He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I love you, Claire.”
Her voice was light and shaky. “I love you, too.”
“Thank God.”
She laughed and turned to walk down the ramp again.
He caught her by the elbow. “Wait a second, don’t you want to see the temple?”
Glancing over her shoulder back up at the structure, she shrugged. “Nah. I’d rather go back to my hotel and get you all cleaned up and de-whiskered, because you are a lot more impressive than a bunch of stone in the desert.”
“Really?”
“No. But we can come back here in the morning. I have a flight back to the States tomorrow night because there’s something in New York even more amazing than Egypt.”
He was stunned to silence for a moment. “Really?”
“Yeah, there’s this guy I’m kind of into who lives there, but I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, Mr. Anderson, I’m the boss and I expect you to come back to my hotel and follow my orders to the letter. This job is going to require lots of hands-on hours and I think your work history and high level of expertise in the area qualify you to be on this team.” She struck out down the ramp into the sea of people without a backward glance at him.
Hold on. “Call me,” he said.
“What?”
“On your cell. Call me.”
She stopped. “Why?”
“I’m curious about something.”
She pulled out her phone. When the call finally came through, they both busted out laughing. “I see Chance got a hold of your phone!”
“Yep.”
“So, you’re going to change that now, since you know the truth, right? ‘The Spy Who Loved Me’ is so yesterday.”
“What would you suggest, Miss Maddox?”
She stared at her watch. “Hmmm. How about ‘Afternoon Delight,’ Mr. Anderson?”
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. “My God, I love you.” He pressed his mouth to hers and she kissed him back with equal passion. It felt so good to have her in his arms again, and he never wanted to let her go. People moved on the ramp all around them. Their voices blended into a nondescript murmur as her hands roved his back and her tongue danced with his. Nothing was as right as being with this woman. He’d never let her go again, even if it meant touring every damn desert country on the planet. She was his oasis. The place he could go when all hell broke loose, and he planned to sit in her shade for the rest of his life.
Eventually, she pulled away, and they stared at each other, completely out of breath.
“People are staring,” she said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he replied, pulling her in for another kiss.
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Acknowledgments
First, a giant heartfelt thank you to Liz Pelletier, who has been a fantastic mentor and guide for my first foray into category romance.
Deepest gratitude to the entire Entangled Team, including but not limited to Heather Howland, Candace Havens, Jessica Turner, Debbie Suzuki, Melanie Smith, Erin Crum, and my sister writers at Lovestruck.
A huge hug to Sophie Jordan for being my cheerleader and encouraging me to step outside my comfort zone. You’re amazing!
Jen L. Armentrout, you got this whole ball rolling by playing matchmaker and pushing me in the right direction—which turned out to be the bar at RT two non-consecutive years. I am grateful.
Love to Gina Maxwell for making me laugh and sending me the EAS for motivation.
Thanks to all the readers who have followed me across genres and new readers who have given me a chance with this book. Special shout-out to Shawna, Lucy, Bailey, and all my girls in Camp Clarke!
And most of all, a big thank-you to my amazing husband, Laine, and my supportive and long-suffering family who have stood with me through this wild ride from my very first book back in 2011 until now. Not a lot of people get to live their dream. Because of you guys, I’m one of them. I love you.
About the Author
Marissa Clarke lives in Texas, where the everything is bigger, especially the mosquitoes.
When not writing or reading, she wrangles her rowdy pack of three teens, husband, and a Cairn Terrier named Annabel who rules the house (and Marissa’s heart) with an iron paw. If you love young adult fiction, be sure to check out Marissa’s alter ego, Mary Lindsay!
www.marissaclarke.com
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