After a moment, Arthur strode to the edge of the tent and looked out over the desert landscape, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. We watched him silently.
After a few minutes, Arthur turned to Slash. “Do you really think God chose me to find the staff?”
“Si, I do.”
“Could you keep it safe? Keep its whereabouts a secret?”
Elvis’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Wait. What? Arthur...you’re actually considering giving it up?”
Arthur closed his eyes. The expression on his face was painful to see. Regret, disappointment, resignation. “It’s not mine, Elvis. It never was. Zizi was right. I was chasing a dream that wasn’t real. Now it’s up to me to protect the staff and its secrets. It needs to go somewhere where it can remain hidden until it needs to be discovered again for what purpose, I do not know.”
“Where could we hide it that no one would find?” I asked.
“What about that secret government warehouse, like in the Indiana Jones movie, where all those special otherworldly things, like the Ark of the Covenant, are stored,” Gwen said excitedly.
I rolled my eyes. “That’s Hollywood, Gwen. There’s no such warehouse.” I looked over at Slash. “Right?”
Slash stood silent. Now it was his turn to look out over the desert, thinking. After a moment, he spoke. “I know where the staff can go—where it will be safe and protected. I’m not at liberty to divulge where, for the protection of those who will keep it and for you who have found it. Will you trust me on this? All of you?”
We looked at each other, then back at Slash. It seemed an unspoken agreement that Arthur had to be the one to speak.
“Yes. We trust you,” Arthur said. “Thank you.”
“How will you get the staff wherever it needs to go?” Gwen asked. “I mean it’s not like you can stick it in your suitcase, Slash.”
“I have my ways...which is perhaps my role here. Thank you for your trust.” Slash motioned toward the camels. “Now we need to get back to Cairo as soon as possible. I’ll go see what I can work out for us to get back.”
“Make sure my way doesn’t involve a camel,” I suggested. “I’m all for walking.”
He flashed me a smile as he strode away.
Elvis turned to face his father. Blue eyes met blue eyes. “Are you serious, Arthur? You’re going to give up your life’s dream and the recognition that goes with it just like that?”
Arthur nodded. “Yes.”
“How? Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. I know that now. I’m going back to England to reevaluate many things in my life. But first, I owe you an apology. A heartfelt one. No more excuses. Not that my apology could ever make up for what I’ve done to you, your brother, sister and mother. I’m sorry, son. Really, truly sorry for the poor excuse of a man and father I’ve been. I have a lot of amends to make. I just hope this is a beginning and not the end.”
Elvis stared steadily at his father, as if he didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. A storm of emotion crossed his face. He blinked a few times and then said, “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“Yes. You’ll see.”
Elvis turned to face Gwen. Somehow, it seemed significant he hadn’t turned to me. He held out a hand to Gwen and she took it without hesitation.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go help Slash figure a way out of here.”
Arthur watched them walk away before looking at me. “So, Lexi, was that better?”
“Yeah, Arthur, that was better.”
“I know I have a long way to go with him...with my family.”
“Yes, you do.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “But at least you took the first step.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Slash took Arthur to see the staff one last time and then he disappeared to take make sure the staff got to wherever he was sending it. When they returned, we said our goodbyes to Mr. Zimmerman and then headed for the airport.
The plane ride home was uneventful, maybe even pleasant. It was hard to say because we were all so exhausted, we slept nearly the entire time, waking up only to eat and then go back to sleep. Still, it didn’t escape my notice that Elvis and Gwen were holding hands under the blanket. Whatever that meant.
It wasn’t like I could ask.
Plausible deniability.
Slash had two drivers waiting for us when we got to the airport. After clearing customs, Elvis and Gwen were instructed to go in one car and Slash and I in another. Before we left I gave Gwen a hug. I had no idea how it had happened, but she had somehow wormed her way into my heart. Perhaps it was her genuine friendliness and fearlessness when it came to the people she had claimed as her friends. Or maybe I liked the way Elvis seemed to stand a little taller and be more confident when she was around. Or perhaps because I was impressed by the way she’d put her life on the line for people who weren’t even technically her friends yet and whether that was determined by emojis or fandom.
Gwen was a redhead with a lot of smarts and even more heart. Whether I liked it or not, somehow we were friends. I watched the taillights of their car disappear.
The driver put our suitcases into the trunk. We climbed in the back and Slash gave the driver the address to our new house. As the car pulled away from the terminal, Slash put his arm around me. I rested my head against his shoulder.
“Well, we made it in one piece and in time for the wedding on Saturday,” I said. “In the spirit of full disclosure, however, I’m pretty sure I feared Basia’s wrath a lot more than an ancient plague if we’d failed.”
“I won’t argue with you on that one.”
My eyes fell on a package on the seat beside him. I hadn’t seen it before.
“Hey, what’s that?” I pointed at the package.
“A present.”
“You had time to go shopping? Really?”
“In a manner of speaking. I knew what I wanted, so I asked the hotel concierge to find one for me and have it delivered to the hotel.”
I hesitated, hovering between being nosy and deciding I had to know. “Who’s it for?”
“You, of course.” He chuckled. “Want to open it?”
“Is that a trick question?”
He slid his arm out from behind me. Using both hands, he reached down to pick up the box. He slid it over to my lap. It was about the size of a large shoebox, wrapped in rough brown paper with a twine bow. It was unexpectedly heavy. I put my hands on top of the box, then paused. Guilt swept through me.
“Is it from Egypt?”
“It is.”
“But I didn’t get you a present.”
He looked at me with affection. “We’ve had this discussion before. Giving a present doesn’t require reciprocity. I bought it because it makes me happy to give you things. In this particular case, I wanted to give you something to remember our first trip to Egypt.”
“First trip? Please tell me that means we’re going to go again.”
“We’re going to go again. And next time, there will be no heists, plagues or runaway camels. Instead there will be a cruise down the Nile, three or four days devoted to nothing but museums, and a couple of romantic candlelight dinners with just the two of us.”
“Oh, that sounds fantastic, especially the part about extra time in the museums.”
“I knew you’d say that.” He bumped my shoulder with his, grinning. “Just open the package, okay?”
“Okay.” I pulled the twine loose and pulled open the brown paper. Carefully I lifted off the top of the box. My breath caught in my throat. “Slash...it’s beautiful.”
Laying nestled in the box was a replica of an ancient Egyptian merkhet. It was either partially made of gold or gold-plated. I lifted it out of the box by its top. The string
with the heavy golden weight dropped down and swung slightly before I cupped it in my hand.
“It’s a perfect souvenir. Thank you so much. You always think of everything.”
“Not everything, but most of the time you make me feel like I can get close.” He leaned over and kissed me. “We’ll have to find a good place to put it in the house.”
The house. Our house. My stomach did a little flip. I couldn’t decide if it was nerves or anticipation. Tonight would be the first night we spent together in the new place. I wasn’t sure how, if at all, it would change things for me emotionally.
Slash slid his arm around me again, so I settled back against him once more.
“You know we’ve been so busy I haven’t even asked you how the move went.” I adjusted my head slightly against his shoulder. “Hopefully without a hitch.”
“As far as I know, that’s correct. I got a text confirming that everything was successfully delivered from both your place and mine and the furniture moved to the most appropriate locations they could determine. It may mean we’ll be moving many items around to suit us, but we’ll manage.”
“We always do. I just hope there is a bed somewhere.”
“I’m sure we’ll be okay on that front. By the way, I’ve set up another date to furniture shop at Marco’s and Marcella’s place. Hopefully this time we’ll come out unscathed and with some nice pieces.”
“As long as Guido isn’t part of deal, I’m good.”
He chuckled and then fell silent. He was probably reliving his favorite moment of me in the bathroom, dripping wet, my jeans hanging from my hips.
I looked at the window, watching the scenery flash past. Something still weighed on my mind.
“Slash, do you think Elvis and his father will be okay after what happened?”
He was silent for a bit, but I waited, letting him gather his thoughts.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Father and son relationships can be complicated. Just like any relationship.”
“I think Arthur wants to make amends.”
“Wanting something and actually doing something about it are two different things. Elvis may no longer desire that relationship, but at least he has a choice in the matter.”
I reached out and took his hand. “Not that you had a choice, but do you regret not knowing your biological father?”
“Sometimes. I wonder if I’ll ever know, and if I’ll ever regain the memories from my childhood. But thank God, I have you. My life is full enough right now.”
Still, there was something in his voice—a small catch—that made me wonder. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to never know who your biological parents were, why they weren’t able to keep you, and where you came from, even if where you ended up was just perfect.
For the rest of the ride we enjoyed each other’s company in silence. When the driver pulled up in the driveway, we retrieved our suitcases and paid him. After he drove away, it was just the two of us.
Slash took my hand and pulling our suitcases behind us, we walked up the sidewalk to the front door. He punched in the security code and slid his key in the lock. The door clicked open.
Slash looked at me and squeezed my hand. “You ready for this, cara?”
I nodded, a smile crossing my face. Yes. Yes, I was. I was ready for this next step as long as I was taking it with him.
I squeezed his hand back. “I’ve never been more ready, Slash. Come on, let’s do this.”
Grinning, Slash pushed the door open with his foot. Hand-in-hand we crossed the threshold together into our brand new house...and life.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Later that evening, after the house had been thoroughly explored and a couple of boxes and our suitcases unpacked, Slash and I lay in bed. Suffering from jet lag, we’d fallen asleep about seven o’clock at night, snuggling in each other’s arms. For some unknown reason, I’d just awoken. A glance at my cell indicated it was only nine thirty. I quietly slid out of the bed so as not to wake him, grabbing my robe and my phone.
I belted the robe as I walked barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen. I drank a glass of water and then sat at the kitchen bar, winding my hair back into a ponytail and securing it with a scrunchie I’d pulled out of my robe pocket. I stared at my cell for a long moment before pressing my finger to the button and swiping to my contacts page. After pushing the call button on my cell, I waited as it rang a couple of times.
“Hello?”
The familiar voice made me feel warm and happy.
“Hey, Dad. It’s me, Lexi.”
“Hey, stranger. Your mom and I haven’t heard from you for several days. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Actually, it’s great. I’ve just been...busy. Sorry I haven’t touched base lately.”
“No problem. I know how you kids get all busy with your computers and technology.”
I smiled. Perhaps I was just nostalgic, but speaking to him brought back a flood of memories. The smell of his aftershave, the tickle of his unshaved stubble on my face, the goofy plaid golf pants and matching beret he used to wear, and the way he taught me to drive using two fingers. I remembered the Father’s Day card I’d made him when I was six—a mathematical calculation that spelled out a numerical code that, once solved, read Best Dad in the World—and the sound of his off-tune whistle as he followed along to his favorite songs on the radio. He’d been a father who never pressured me to play with dolls, but he’d bought me my first laptop and given me a challenging wooden pyramid puzzle at age nine that signaled his early acceptance of who I was...and who I’d be. He’d vigorously defended me after I got caught at my first hack, then scared the pants off me so I understood what I risked by such behavior. Now I was moving on to another man in my life, I recognized that my dad, in his unique and sometimes exasperating way, had prepared me for that.
My father. The first man I’d ever loved.
“I, ah, just wanted to say hi.” I cleared my throat. “And to let you know you’ve...well, you’ve done a really good job as a dad. I know it was hard work to raise someone offbeat like me, so I just wanted you to know I appreciate it. I’m really, really lucky to have you as a father. Thank you.”
He was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“Yeah, it really is. I’m just feeling lucky tonight. You’re the best. I love you, Dad.”
“Back at you, pumpkin.”
We chatted for a while longer and made plans to hang out at Basia’s and Xavier’s wedding on Saturday. It was then I wanted to tell my parents I’d moved in with Slash. It wasn’t fair to keep my new home from them any longer and I was no longer scared of their reaction. No matter their initial thoughts, I was confident we’d work through it.
Because as painful as things might become, that’s what families did.
When I hung up, I pressed the cell against my cheek. Life had certainly led me in unexpected directions and to unexpected places. But now I understood love would bring me home. It didn’t matter where that home was, as long as the ones I loved were there.
I stood and turned off the light in the kitchen. Returning to the bedroom, I stood in the doorway for a moment and listened to Slash’s even breathing. Finally, I slipped out of my robe and climbed back into bed next to him.
He stirred and rolled over, pulling me into his arms. His bare chest radiated heat. His eyes were still closed. “So, how do you like our new house?” he mumbled sleepily.
I snuggled in closer, resting my hands on his torso. “I like it. A lot. But I’ve had an epiphany.”
“Really?” He cracked open an eye. “What would that be?”
“Home isn’t a house.”
“It’s not?”
“No. It’s you, Slash. Home is just another
word for you.”
Both of his eyes were open. For a moment he just stared at me before he murmured something against my cheek in Italian.
“What did you say?”
His hand stroked my hair. “I said welcome home, cara.”
I sighed, my mind and body at peace. “Thanks, Slash. It’s really good to be home.”
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
As always I am grateful for the amazing team that consistently rallies around me to make each Lexi book the best it can be. Thanks especially to my family, starting with my brother, Brad, who is a brilliant partner-in-brainstorming; my sister, Sandy, who always has the best ideas about everything; my sister-in-law, Beth, who puts up with my incessant talking about plot twists and character development; my mom, Donna, for her tireless editing and suggestions; and my dad, Bill, for cheering me on. I couldn’t even begin to do it without all of you. Thanks also to my children, Alexander and Lucas, who put up with me while I pull the book across the finish line. I’m also very appreciative of Heather Goldberg at HarperCollins/Harlequin for her excellent marketing assistance and insights. She rocks! Finally, the highest kudos for my lovely editor, Alissa Davis, for seven years of fun and awesomeness working together on the series. Best. Editor. Ever.
Also available from Julie Moffett
and Carina Press
The Lexi Carmichael Series by Julie Moffett
Suggested reading order
No One Lives Twice (Book 1)
No One To Trust (Book 2)
No Money Down (Book 2.5 novella)
No Place Like Rome (Book 3)
No Biz Like Showbiz (Book 4)
No Test for the Wicked (Book 5)
No Woman Left Behind (Book 6)
No Room for Error (Book 7)
No Strings Attached (Book 8)
No Living Soul (Book 9)
Also from Carina Press
and Julie Moffett
Scottish Historical Romance
The Thorn and the Thistle
Her Kilt-Clad Rogue (novella)
No Living Soul Page 30