The fellow was wrenched away from her. Strong arms were reaching for her.
Hunter’s.
And, streaming in from everywhere, so it seemed, were their friends. To her left, Ali had a man at sword point. Before her, wielding a walking stick with an expertise that would have done Holmes proud, was Arthur Conan Doyle. Abdul had a group at gunpoint.
Allan, barely standing, still held a pistol. Robert Stewart, looking fierce, was at his side.
David was there. His face was ashen, his hand was quivering.
The workers who had been with them, all of them, were there. And then, coming in from behind Lord Carlyle, a slew of men in uniforms—Egyptian police.
She looked up at Hunter, who held her in a tense, trembling grip as he stared at the scene around them.
Suddenly, she felt incredibly weak. “We’re going to live!” she whispered.
And then she passed out.
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE, someone had supplied her with a cloak.
A black one, not one of those worn by the cult! And they had gotten back to the hotel, though she didn’t remember the ride. There was a brandy in her hand, and they were all gathered—except, of course, Lady Daws and her son, Alfred.
Lady Daws, so she’d heard, had lived, and was ranting insanely in a cell somewhere in Cairo. Alfred was dead. He’d been trampled to death.
Emma had finally stopped clucking over Kat, and Margaret had stopped touching her face and crying, and Camille—who had said that the brandy would be the best thing at the moment—sat across from her, calmly smiling.
“How did you get there so fast?” Kat whispered at last, bringing a halt to all the other voices in the room.
“We might well have ridden our horses to death,” Robert said, “but we weren’t there first. Hunter must have been riding like a maniac.”
“Yes, but…”
“May I give this a try?” Arthur asked. He addressed Kat. “Lady Katherine, you followed Alfred Daws. Hunter and Ali followed you. They stumbled upon Lady Margaret. Hunter took the cape and cowl and went down the stairs while Ali rushed to the camp. I came a bit more slowly, bringing along Lady Margaret. While all this was going on, two things were happening. Lord and Lady Carlyle had broken through the walls—and the underground passage did lead to the temple. They were able to stream in from that end. However—the police arrived because David Turnberry went to Lord Avery with his belief that Lord Alfred Daws was involved in all that had gone on and told him why. Robert and Allan were roused—no one told Ethan, the man is still too badly injured—and the police were notified. Then a massive assault moved through the desert. There!”
Kat turned to Camille. “You broke through the walls.”
“Yes, ironic, isn’t it? Our great discovery led to a temple that Lady Daws had not only stumbled upon—through some of her contacts in the black market—but made use of. However, she did not find the tomb of the high priest. I believe we will have that left for us!”
“Bah! Tombs!” Lord Avery declared. “I’m taking Margaret and sailing for home!”
“Oh, Father!” Margaret protested. “I wish to stay!”
“Why on earth!” he exclaimed.
“Because my friends are here,” Margaret said. She reached out a hand to Kat. “True friends!”
“And what makes you think that Kat would want to remain here after all that happened tonight?” Lord Avery demanded.
“Well,” Kat told him softly, “the danger is gone.”
“Humph! Humph!” he repeated, looking at them both as if they were crazy. “Do you two think that Lady Daws and that wretched boy managed this all on their own? There are other evil entities in on this, I assure you. And how do you know if we rounded up all those people in the ridiculous red capes?”
“I believe that the Egyptian police will be able to handle it from here, Jagger,” Lavinia said, shaking her head. “They are very fine people.”
“But, but…”
“Oh, Jagger, do stop blathering!” Lavinia commanded. “Simply ask the children, all of them, what they want to do! It seems to me that the season has actually been helped along, now that the menace is gone. If they all want to stay, I say, let them do it!”
“Well,” Camille said, her eyes sparkling, “I do believe we’re on the verge of a truly great discovery.”
“My love, we will do as you wish,” Brian told her.
“My lord Carlyle,” Robert said, “I am delighted to stay on as planned.”
“I, too,” David said, and his words were firm.
“I would stay,” Allan Beckensdale said, and looked at Kat ruefully. “Perhaps…perhaps your sister and father could be coaxed into joining us.”
“My sister?” she repeated.
“It would be such a pleasure,” Allan said politely.
“Hunter?” Kat said.
“You truly wish to stay?” he asked Kat.
“I do, if you do.”
“I’m asking you.”
“But—”
“Oh, good heavens!” Lavinia said, rising. “It’s time we all got out of this room. Jagger, I believe we’re staying. Besides, Ethan is in no shape to travel. This is not a cowardly group. We are subjects of Queen Victoria. But now, all of you, out, out!”
“I still don’t understand how…” Robert began.
“Come, then, my boy,” Arthur told him. “Out, and I will explain it all again.”
One by one, they began to file out. And at last, Hunter and Kat were alone.
She was in a chair near the hearth. He stood by it. There was a moment’s awkward silence. Then they both spoke at the same time.
“Hunter, I—”
“Did you—”
“It wasn’t just because—”
“Say it again.”
“I know you won’t really believe—”
“Say it again! Please.”
“I love you!” she said.
He left the hearth to drop to his knees before her. And his eyes, wickedly deep and dark, seemed to devour her. He caught her hands and kissed them. She shook her head, not knowing the right words. “I believe I began falling in love with you the minute I met you,” she added softly. “And I fell out of whatever I felt for David very long ago. I kept comparing him to you. I know…I don’t believe that you’d just cast me out—but you did send me away!”
“I was terrified for your life. You are sadly reckless.”
“Hunter, I merely do what makes the most sense at the moment.”
“Well, we could argue that forever. And we probably will. No, I can promise that we will argue endlessly over it, but…that is for the future. So…say it again.”
“What?”
“‘I love you. I want to be with you forever. I couldn’t bear it when you pushed me away. I had to pretend that…I didn’t love you.’”
She winced, then said, “I don’t know exactly what you feel for me—”
“You must be joking, my dear. Apparently, I have worn my heart on my sleeve before everyone else.”
“You could say it, too,” she suggested.
He smiled, cupped her cheek, lifted her head.
“I love you. No, adore you. And I will happily be anywhere in the world, home or abroad, anywhere, if you are there.”
“Oh, Hunter!” She threw herself into his arms. He backed away slightly, clearing his throat. “Ahem. This is certainly an…interesting outfit!”
“Interesting?” she said.
“Indeed.”
She laughed, savoring the freedom to touch his face, smooth his hair.
“Well…we are here. In this lovely room. This lovely, very convenient room.”
“Ah!”
He rose and gently picked her up, cradling her into his arms. And when he kissed her that time, she knew that she had never before known such a kiss.
DAWN WAS BREAKING and they still lay awake, and she knew even more.
“Hunter.”
“My dear?”
“You told me once that I should only come to you because I wanted you. That should be the only reason, ever.”
“And?”
She rolled to him, leaning on his chest. “There is an even better reason.”
And he laughed, pressing his lips to hers. “I am the one who has learned that lesson,” he told her. “It is love,” he said softly.
The sun rose over the desert as he took her in his arms again.
ISBN 1-55254-428-1
RECKLESS
Copyright © 2005 by Heather Graham Pozzessere
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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Reckless Page 32