“Hullo, Benedict,” she said. She came toward him, flashing a tempting little smile. With a flick of her wrist, she motioned him into her study.
He paused before the settee. As long as he lived, the image of that plush, comfortable settee and the sound and feel of the love they’d made on it would linger in his memory.
Blast it, a fresh rush of desire careened through his veins, nearly enough to break down his resolve to treat her with patience. Would she believe him an utter heathen if he closed the door behind them and claimed her again and again, right there on that velveteen-covered sofa? Or would she savor every passionate kiss, responding in kind with that delicious mouth?
“Hullo, Alexandra.” Was it a trick of the light, or was she even lovelier than she’d been the night before? Something had changed in her demeanor—something he couldn’t entirely define.
She closed the door behind them. Meeting his questioning gaze, she squared her shoulders. She might not have appeared more stiff and uneasy if she’d trespassed in the queen’s own study.
“I presume you understand why I’ve summoned you,” she said.
“I believe I interpreted your message correctly.”
“Most likely.” The faintest of smiles touched her mouth.
What in blazes is she up to?
“You’ve found the map?”
Her smile broadened. “The professor intended the markings to be invisible to the naked eye. I performed a bit of an experiment…the ink responds to heat.”
“Clever,” he said. “Have you informed Colton?”
“Yes.” She nibbled her lower lip with her top teeth, betraying her nerves. “But I thought you deserved to know.”
“Given that Stockwell explicitly instructed me to take the map into my possession, that is perhaps an understatement. You have it here?”
She nodded, a wariness infusing the small movement. Her beautiful mouth stretched into a seam, tight with tension. “If only I could be certain you will not put this map to use for your own purposes—if I could be confident you would undertake an expedition that was motivated by the pursuit of history and not simply to enrich yourself, I would entrust it to you.”
He cocked his head, studying her. “You don’t trust me, Alexandra?”
She hesitated. Her silence confirmed what he’d known all along. Her gaze flickered away, a tiny fleeting gesture. But one that spoke as loudly as a lioness’s roar.
“In most matters, I trust you implicitly.” She held her chin high, but her voice trembled slightly. “However, you and I both know that where the pursuit of rare treasures is concerned, your objectives are far different than mine. Whenever I think of the Amulet of Bastet, the pain in my heart is very real. You know as well as I do that artifact belongs in Egypt, not in some rich man’s vault. That piece dates to the eighteenth dynasty. It is a treasure of the Egyptian people, not a bauble to be sold to the highest bidder.”
If she’d lifted her hand and struck him hard against the face, he might have been less stunned. He’d decided against profiting from the map and whatever treasure the tomb held. But she had not given him the benefit of the doubt. Alexandra had not asked for promises, nor even inquired as to his intent.
She’d simply assumed the worst.
Of course, he could not blame her. Her conclusion was reasonable enough. She had ample evidence to back her feelings. But after the night they’d shared, she still addressed him in a tone reeking with disdain.
Your objectives are far different than mine.
The words sliced through him, a dull dagger to the belly.
Damnation, he’d been ready to walk away from the treasure. And for what? To face a woman who viewed him with implicit criticism and disgust.
A vein throbbed at his temple. “Do not judge me. I’ve made no secret of my ambitions. Unlike Stanwyck, I did not inherit a fortune. I have never enjoyed the luxury ofnothaving to care about funds.”
“I do understand, Benedict. But the end does not always justify the means.”
“Is that so?” He let out a low breath, as if that might dispel the sudden tension in his gut. “Obviously, I have not earned your regard.”
“Benedict, please—I did not mean to cast aspersions on your character.”
He forced a shrug, even as her attitude tasted like the most bitter of pills. “You are not the first to look down your nose at me. For one who has never lacked for funds, the pursuit of tin to pay one’s obligations must seem very coarse. Rather crude and ugly.”
Her complexion paled. “Truly, I did not mean any harm. You know I hold you in high regard.”
