Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) (37 page)

And she, Marvel
Newton, was right in the middle of it. Right in the middle of history being
made. She squirted a puff of scent in the air and waited for the mist to settle
on her shoulders and in her hair.

No, she didn’t
care if Carter joined them or not tonight. All her questions now had to do with
the wondrously curious things she had seen on her tour with Mr. Spenser that
day.
Josh
. He had asked her to call
him
Josh
.

“Joshua.”

She felt a tingle
go up her spine as she said his name out loud, rolling the syllables around in
her mouth.

As she stood up from
her dressing table, she thought, for once in her life, she felt like letting
whatever was going to happen to her—happen. And that thought was so
unusual, so startlingly unlike her, that she found herself smiling.

Joshua.

With one last
glance in her hand mirror, she left her tent for dinner.

As soon as she
stepped outside, she could feel that something was happening. The energy of the
close knit little camp had changed. Instead of heading toward the flickering
pathway lanterns that lit the way to the dining table—itself festooned
with small lanterns on its stark white linen top—she found herself
needing to step off the path to make way for two Egyptians who ran past her.

She could see
that horrid Edward Digby standing in the opening of his tent smoking and
watching her. He had come into camp the morning after she and Rowan had
arrived. She knew Rowan would never have left her if he had known Digby would
be here. Then she saw Josh materialize on the path heading toward her tent. He
was a big man, every bit as tall as Rowan, and he carried himself with an ease
and grace not usually found in a man that size. When she saw him, she felt her
heart beat a little faster and her throat went instantly dry.

Oh, my goodness,
she thought.
Joshua
.

“Marvel? You
okay? I saw you nearly got run over there.”

“I…yes, I’m fine.
What is happening? Have the reporters breached the walls?”

When he reached
her, she found she was a little breathless because of how closely he stood to
her. If she’d had a fan, she would’ve started madly fanning herself.

“You’re not going
to believe this,” he said, one hand resting on his hip in a picture of
insouciance. “Pierce is back.”

“Oh?” The words
should have sent tremors of delight up and down her inner thighs but amazingly,
she felt only interest. She was aware, however, of Josh leaning in close to her
as if to relate the next message
sotto
voce
.

Or perhaps to kiss her?

“With
Mrs
. Pierce.”

She stared at him
and was aware her mouth had fallen open. She was also aware that he was
watching her intently for her reaction. She forced herself to recover.

“Well,” she said,
breathlessly, “I certainly did not expect that.”

“Come on,” he
said, taking her arm and turning her away from the dining area.

Rowan had found his wife? Was that possible? Could Joshua be
trying to tease her? But then why were the camp servants running around?
 

As she walked
next to the big American, Marvel drew upon every reserve of strength and
feminine wile she had to cover up how she felt. She honestly didn’t know what
she
did
feel, but she was determined
not to show anything but complete composure. They turned a corner in the camp
and suddenly she saw them.

Rowan—looking
every bit as handsome and rumpled as ever—was kneeling next to a woman
sitting in a camp chair. Their horses, still saddled, stood just a few feet
away. Marvel watched as the camp handlers led the animals away.

“Pierce!”

Marvel jumped
when Spenser called to Rowan. She watched him turn away from the woman—
dear Lord! She was fat!
Marvel felt a
hysterical giggle bubbling up in her and she dug her nails into her palms to
staunch it.

Marvel watched
Rowan turn back to his wife and speak to her. He was clearly filling her in on
who they were because when they finally reached them, Ella was smiling in a
greeting. It was then, as Marvel approached them both, that she saw that
Rowan’s wife was not fat.

She was with child.

Marvel glanced at
Rowan whose face was flushed with happiness. In fact, she had never seen him
smile so broadly before.

“Marvel,
Spenser,” Rowan said, “may I present my wife, Ella Pierce.”

Ella smiled
tiredly and held out her hand to Spenser. “Well, Mr. Spenser and I know each
other,” she said, “but I’m very glad to see you again.” She looked at Marvel
and her smile never wavered. “And to meet you, Miss Newton,” she said. “I
understand Rowan’s been working for you and I’m thankful he had a friend during
this time.”

“Not at all,”
Marvel said, amazed at the woman’s grace and self-possession. She looked like
she had ridden two days and three nights in the desert. Her gown—native
by what Marvel could see—was stained and ripped, she was barefooted and
her hair looked like she had long ago given up on it. Her face, however, was
clean and her eyes gleamed with happiness.

Especially when
she looked at Rowan. Which she did.
 
A lot.

“Oh, my, Rowan,”
Marvel said. “You didn’t tell me you were…that she was…”

“I wasn’t
absolutely sure, myself,” Rowan said, looking adoringly at his wife. He reached
out and took her hand and the two gazed into each other’s eyes as if Marvel and
Spenser were not standing there.

Digby approached
the group, his hands in his pockets as if to affect that he was largely
uninterested in the sudden reappearance of Rowan and his wife.

“I don’t suppose
you know what happened to
my
wife?”
he said in a sneer to Ella.
          
Rowan
instantly turned on him, but Ella put a hand out to stop him.

“It’s okay,
Rowan.” She looked at Digby. “Julia is living with a band of Bedouins not far
from here,” she said. “She’s alive and happy.”

“You lie.”

“As it happens, I
don’t.”

“You killed her
and buried her corpse in the desert.”

“Care to back
that up with evidence, you bastard?” Rowan snarled at him.

Again, Ella
patted his arm. “It doesn’t matter, Rowan,” she said, and then glared at Digby.
“I am happy to make a statement to the authorities—
which I will do as soon as we are back in Cairo
—to the effect
that Julia Digby is alive and well the last time I saw her. In fact,
very
well.”

Flushed with
frustration, Digby wrenched his hands from his pocket. “We’ll see about that!”
he said impotently and stormed off in the direction of his tent.

Marvel looked
questioningly at Spenser who shrugged. “He’s all mouth,” he said. He turned
back to Rowan. “If there’s anything you need, Pierce, let me know. I know the
tent’s a little small for two—”

“It’s fine,” Ella
said. She looked up at Rowan. “In fact, it’s perfect.”

Spenser turned to
walk back toward the dining tent and spoke over his shoulder. “Your wife will
want to rest, Pierce. I’ll have dinner sent to your tent.”

Marvel smiled
woodenly at Rowan and his wife and then turned to catch up with Spenser. They
walked silently to the dining table. When they seated themselves, Spenser
flapped out his napkin across his lap and nodded at the attendant to pour the
wine.

“I guess you’re
pretty shocked that he found her,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Marvel waited
until the man had filled her wine goblet and then held it up to Josh.

“Well, I say,
thank God for small miracles,” she said, a smile tugging at her full lips. She
watched his face go from uncertainty to a slow beaming grin as he lifted his
glass to hers.

“I’ll second
that,” he said, pointedly, his face relaxed and pleased. “In spades.”

After a long
overdue bath, Ella lay on the camp bed and counted her blessings. She was
clean, she was full of a lovely dinner—roast lamb and fingerling potatoes
in real butter!—the baby had stopped playing football with her bladder,
and Rowan, her gorgeous, darling man, was lying beside her, his hand resting on
her hip.

“If I really died
in that desert,” she murmured, “then I definitely ended up in heaven.”

“Well, you took
me with you, in that case,” Rowan said sleepily.

“And you’re sure
we can’t get frisky under the covers?” she whispered to him, turning with
effort to face him. “I’m desperate to have you inside me, Rowan.”

He groaned. “No
more than I am, babe,” he said. “Especially after you say shit like that, but I
think the inn is pretty full at the moment.” He patted her tummy. “Wouldn’t
want to do anything to kick off the big event before we can get you to a modern
hospital in Cairo.”

“You don’t think
we can make it back to the states? To 2013?”

He smoothed a
long hair from her forehead. “Well, we’ll get back to Cairo okay,” he said.
“And maybe even back to our own time, but they’re not going to let you get on a
plane at eight and a half months pregnant.”

“So the baby will
be born in Egypt?”

“He’ll still be
an American citizen.”

“I guess it
doesn’t matter as long as we’re in a modern hospital,” she said. “Do you know
anything about Egypt’s health facilities post-revolution?”

“They haven’t deteriorated.”

“What were they
like
before
the revolution?”

“Ella, angel,
it’s all going to be fine. 2013 Cairo has the same topnotch labor and delivery
capabilities that any third world country has after a major revolution.”

“You’re not
funny.”

“I’m sorry, love,”
he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “I’m horny as a son of a bitch and
as much as I love holding you, it’s killing me.”

“I promise not to
move too much,” she whispered, reaching for the front of his pants.

He groaned loudly
but didn’t move her hand.

A piercing scream
rent the air outside their tent making both of them jump. Rowan was on his feet
before Ella was even able to fully shift onto her back.

“Rowan, what is
it?” she gasped, struggling to a sitting position on the bed.

He didn’t answer
her but she heard him exchange words with someone outside the tent and then he
returned and pulled on a shirt.

“It’s Marvel,” he
said, tersely. “Spenser’s heading there. If he needs help, he’ll yell.”

Another scream,
every bit as loud as the first, punched the air. Ella saw Rowan’s face harden. When
the scream was followed almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot, he picked
up a pistol she hadn’t noticed before and handed it to her.

“Shoot anyone who
comes through that opening who isn’t me,” he said.

“Pretty much my
standard policy,” Ella muttered as she hefted the gun in her hand and watched
him leave.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Spenser was
nearly to Marvel’s tent the second time she screamed. When he raked back the
flap into the tent, his gun drawn, he saw the King Cobra—its fanned hood
wider than a man’s hand, a full twelve inches of its body off the
ground–coiled on a silk dressing gown puddled at the foot of Marvel’s
bed.

He dispatched the
snake in one messy shot that sent the reptile’s innards spiraling around the
tent like soggy confetti. When he looked up, he saw Marvel standing on the bed,
her arms wrapped around the center tent pole, and wearing not a stich of clothing.
Before he could avert his eyes—as if that were possible—he felt
Pierce trying to push past him through the door. He turned and barred his
entrance.

“It’s dealt with,
Pierce,” he said hoarsely.

“What the…who…?”

“It was a snake.
I killed it. Go on back to your wife.”

To Pierce’s
credit, he turned and left without any more questions. By the time Spenser
turned back to the inside of Marvel’s tent, she had pulled the bed sheet up
over her nakedness. She still stood on the bed however as if immobilized in
every other way.

Even from this
distance, he could see she was shaking.

“I…I touched it
with my foot,” she said, her shoulders trembling so hard she looked like she
was about to start convulsing.

He was at the bed
in two strides, and held open his arms to her. With what was without a doubt
the sexiest whimper he had ever heard, she fell into them, dropping the sheet
between them as she did.

*
                                 
*
                                 
*
                                 
*

           
The
next morning, Rowan watched Marvel light Spenser’s cigarette and then try to
hide his lighter in her skirt so he would attempt to retrieve it. He was glad
to see her setting her cap elsewhere and Spenser was a good man. He could
probably handle her although the jury hadn’t come all the way back on that one.
He grinned to himself. With any luck, he wouldn’t need to have
the talk
with Marvel after all. It had
been his own bad judgment that had brought their relationship to the point of
that damned kiss on the boat mere hours before he got the information that led
him to Ella. He had to admit, as happy as he’d been these few days bringing
Ella back to camp, the thought of letting Marvel down after he’d stupidly led
her on hadn’t been high on his list of things he was looking forward to.

           
“You
look pensive,” Ella said from the day bed in the tent. It had been an
uncomfortable night for her. The baby seemed to be growing bigger by the hour
and no position was endurable to her for long. They were both eager to return
to Cairo.

           
“Just
thinking,” he said, turning away from the sight of Marvel and Spenser rough housing
around the dining table. Spenser had just pulled her onto his lap and appeared
to be tickling her, if her high-pitched squeals were any indication. The man
was clearly besotted with her. Rowan snorted.
Good thing, too.
If he didn’t treat her right, Rowan would have to
beat the shit out of him.

           
“About
what?”

           
He
sat down on the foot of the bed and stroked her knee. “Nothing important,” he
said. “One more night, and then we’re on the boat to Cairo.”

           
“What
if I go into labor on the boat?”

           
“You’re
not going to go into labor on the boat. But if you do, I’ll be there.”

           
He
looked into her beautiful brown eyes and couldn’t believe how much he loved
her, how much he was willing to do to make her happy.

           
“You’re
looking at me funny,” she said.

           
“I’m
looking at you adoringly, you twit,” he said, grinning. “Can’t you tell?”

           
“Hmmph.”

           
“How
you feeling this morning?”

           
“You
think that snake in Miss Newton’s tent was on purpose?” She was squinting at
him like she was trying to figure something out.

           
“You
mean do I think someone deliberately put it in there? Why would anyone do
that?”

           
“I
don’t trust that bastard Digby. He tried to kill Julia and he tried to rape
me
.”

           
“You
never mentioned that.” He stood up and flexed his fists. He felt an immediate
rage pump through him. He turned to look in the direction of Digby’s tent.

           
“Please
don’t go start something with him, Rowan. There are a lot of things I haven’t
had the time to tell you. My point is that Digby is quite capable of throwing a
poisonous snake in a tent.”

           
“He
doesn’t even know her.”

           
“Rowan,
honestly! We switched tents with her. Hello? That used to be
our
tent.”

           
He
looked at her and his mouth fell open. Marvel had talked them into switching
tents last night because hers was bigger.

           
“Son
of a bitch,” he said.

           
“Pretty
difficult to prove,” Ella said, shifting uncomfortably on the bed and trying to
draw her knees up.

           
“Your
back hurt?”

He sat down next
to her and ran his hands down to the base of her hips and massaged her. She
groaned and pushed her body back into his hands. He nuzzled her neck. “Just a
little bit longer now, babe,” he whispered.

           
“I
know,” she said. “Rowan?”

           
He
kissed her on the neck. “Mmm?”

           
“Have
I told you yet about Halima?”

           
He
felt her stiffen and he stopped what he was doing and moved around to face her.

           
“Is
Halima a man?” he asked warily.

           
She
shook her head and he could see tears were in her eyes. “Halima was…” She put
her hand on his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.

           
Rowan
tried to imagine what horrors Ella had endured in the seven plus months that
they had been separated. He knew he would hear them all some day. This one was
clearly important to her.

           
She
fought to control her emotions. “She was my dearest friend,” she said.

           
Rowan
nodded. “Did something happen to Halima?” he asked gently.

           
She
began to weep then and he gathered her into his arms and let her cry for as
long as she needed to. God knows she probably had a thousand reasons for a
full-fledged breakdown. He held her tightly and murmured comfort to her the
best that he could. When she finally managed to talk again, he wiped her face
with a damp cloth and settled her back onto the bed.

           
“I
don’t know what happened to her,” she said. “I sent her away when I knew I was
going to try to escape.” She took a long steadying breath. “But Horus told me
that he’d found her and killed her.”

           
“I
wouldn’t believe anything that bastard said.”

           
“I
know.”

           
“Do
you want me to find out, sweetheart?”

           
She
grabbed his hand. “Rowan, no,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear to know
that she died that night. Please, no. I tell myself he was lying and that she
lives. You know?”

           
He
leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m sure she lives,” he said.

           
*
                                 
*
                                 
*
                                 
*

“For the love of
God, man, how could you have been so stupid?”

           
“I
apologize,
effendi
. No one told me they
switched their tents.”
     

           
“I
knew you Arabs were lazy, but I didn’t realize you were sub-intelligent.”

           
“I
will not fail again,
effendi
. I know
where I can get another snake.”

           
“No
more snakes, you idiot.” Digby pushed a knife, its blade nearly six inches
long, into the hands of his cowering servant. “Tonight. You will go to the
right
tent this time. Can you do that?”

           
“Yes,
effendi
.”

           
“Call
Pierce out and tell him that
Miss Newton
is being attacked at one of the caves by the dig site
. The way the woman
dresses it won’t come as a surprise to anyone. Can you remember that?”

           
“
Effendem
Newton is being attacked at the
dig site.”

           
“Very
good.”

           
“And
then I kill him?”

           
“While
I must say I appreciate your enthusiasm, Ra, I need you to do as you are told.”

           
“Yes,
effendi
.”

           
“I
will deal with Pierce.
You
will enter
the tent and kill Mrs. Pierce. Can you do that, you retarded heathen?”

           
Ra
nodded. “Yes,
effendi
.”

           
“And
you won’t have any problems with that? Because I must say Abdullah was a grave
disappointment to me on that score. He flatly refused to hurt
women—colored
or
white. Most
extraordinary. I had to fire the blighter.”

           
“I
am not weak like Abdullah,” Ra said.

           
“No,
I can see that. Except maybe in the head. Never mind. It’s all very simple. Get
Pierce out of the tent. Then slit her throat.”

           
“Yes,
effendi
.”

           
“And
you’re sure Pierce trusts you?”

           
“With
his life,
effendi
.”

           
“You’ll
have to run off straight afterward.”

           
“Yes,
effendi
.” Ra’s eyes glittered as
Digby dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold sovereign.

           
“One
now and one six months from now when we meet in Cairo.”

           
“I
will not fail you again,
effendi
.”

           
“See
that you don’t. I must say I’m getting bloody tired of the continual
resurrection of the late Lady Digby. Never mind. Off you go but stay close.
I’ll signal you when it’s time.”

Somewhere
in the Sahara

           
When
Julia had spent two nights alone in a row, she knew she could wait no longer.
It might not buy her a lifetime or even a year, but she couldn’t lose him yet.

She would have to
tell him.

On the third
night, she went to his tent and she could see he wanted her. She waited until
after they had made love but before he was so sleepy he wouldn’t want to talk.
After nearly six months of living with him she still only knew a few words of
his language and they were mostly labels for body parts. Rudimentary sign
language worked well enough for most other things.

“Ammon?” She sat
up next to him and let the fur rug which normally covered them both fall to her
lap. She knew he didn’t want her again but she preferred to visually remind him
of her value to him. Having him stare at her naked breasts as she “talked”
could only help her case.

He grunted when
she sat up. He remained lying down but she could see he was watching her.

“If you take me
to the Valley of the Kings,” she said slowly, “at the big camp where many men
dig, I can show you where
Effendi
Carter hides his gold.”

She used her
hands to try to explain her words and hoped he was understanding her.

“Gold,” she repeated.
“Very valuable. Treasure. Much much
baksheesh
.”