Guarded Treasure

by Mae Lovette

The truth was, she wouldn’t have gotten hired at an archeological dig for her accomplishments regardless. It wasn’t for lack of trying, or a lacking background. It was beyond her control that society was stacked against her. She refused to lament that she could never take a man’s way through the world. Instead, she would celebrate her triumph for making her own way: by seizing an opportunity and making it a success.

“What did you say your background was again?” she asked. Just then the waiter walked by placing the check on the table, refilling their waters for the fifth time, and continuing on to the next patron. Edith set her purse on the table to pay the bill. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Paying my bill, of course,” she said, still rummaging in her purse. “Absolutely not,” he said curtly, with mild amusement on his face. She blinked a few times. “You’re not paying for my dinner, don’t be ridiculous. This is not a…” she shook her head slightly, searching for what to say, “… social arrangement.” His eyes widened as his grin morphed into feigned shock. “What are you implying Miss Taylor? As if I’d let any woman on earth pay for a meal with me. I’ve got quicker ways to get you into bed, believe me. I wouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“So here we are,” Ben said as she joined him again and they fell back into step. “The ambitious librarian with something to prove and the petty scoundrel with nothing to lose.”

thought you were desperate to know what I want?” “That’s right, and you still haven’t told me.” “I’ve told you just now.” “You haven’t told me what you’re looking for in the tomb. You’ve just told me a harebrained scheme you cooked up since yesterday. I never should have left you alone in here with your clearly overactive imagination and a fresh stack of mummy comics.”

Her hair was a wild mess of curls he wanted to get lost in. He loved her glasses, but without them her light green almond eyes were not merely beautiful, but totally arresting. The scent of her hair and skin ignited a deep elemental reaction within him, and the small room was filled with it. Iris and Edith.

need to run a few errands. I won’t need as much time getting ready, since you’ll be the one using your feminine wiles to get me out of jail tonight.” Gregson and Myrna instantly shared a wide eyed glance, and then looked to Edith. Edith’s eyes darted between them. “I was only joking,” Ben said, rocking back on his heels and pulling an awkward apologetic face in Edith’s direction. “He’s American,” Edith whispered to them with a knowing look. Gregson and Myrna eased instantly in a collective sigh of relief.

As it turns out, he was doing a terrible job as her bodyguard. All she had to do was bat her pretty eyelashes and he folded like a house of cards. There’s no telling what he would agree to when she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a wisp of fabric so sheer it was almost nonexistent.

Wherever he’d been, one thing was for certain. If she’d ever seen Ben before, she never would have forgotten it.

“You sound jealous, Ben,” she said coolly, setting her jaw. “Jealous of what?” he said, and he was close to her ear now, a position that could only be achieved due to her high heels. He began to move his hand lower on her back. “Jealous of hearing him call you Edie?” It squeezed her heart to hear that’s what bothered him.

I love a jealous trope

“Jealous that he’s probably seen you in this dress before I did? Jealous of what else he knows about you that I don’t, because I’m jealous he’s had more of your time than I ever will?” His hand was still inching lower down her back, his palm against the bare skin there, as he guided her effortlessly in time with the music, as skilled and smooth at dancing a waltz as he was with everything else. She was becoming intoxicated by him. His body was so close. His words were so candid. It made her eyes prickle to think of what this dance could have been if they hadn’t run into George. “Are you?” she said on a shaky breath. “Yes,” he said softly, and she shut her eyes tight at the effect it had on her to hear it.

“Do you let him fuck you?” His voice was hard and cold as the limestone of the tomb. She gasped and pulled away as a reaction to his words flared inside of her. Shame and also… something else. Something deep that riled within her when she heard nasty words come out of his mouth. And it was familiar. She’d felt it last night. She pulled away from him, but he held her tighter.

“You left one of your guns at home? For me?” she whispered coyly. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it,” he snapped gruffly.

“Well, why would you be so jealous over a woman with no self respect, anyway. I don’t know why you’re lecturing me on the type of guy I should be with… you’re not the type of guy who should be with me. A handsome, charming, adventurous Oxford graduate certainly doesn’t have to chase after uptight dowdy librarians.” She turned around now, looking up at him. He looked at her incredulously. Why did she keep saying that, he wondered. And then he knew. She didn’t know. She needed to hear it. He took another step toward her, so close they were almost touching. She felt her back come up against the rolling ladder she’d used to retrieve the reference books. Staring into her eyes, he let the silence hang in the air. He wanted to make his next words perfectly clear.

“Uptight, ambitious, gorgeous librarians who don’t like me became my type the day I met you.” He leaned over bracing his hand on the bookshelf

She’d found a rhythm with Ben that was like nothing in life. It required no practice, and bore no apprehension. His body sought to know hers, and she responded with a welcome that was innate. His kiss was searching her and she wanted to be found.

She was well aware that her default state was defensive, and she made no apologies for it. She’d never known that being defenseless could be so intoxicating.

“I don’t want to be untidy for you,” she whispered, tilting her hips attempting to fit herself to him. Then his bewildered smirk became a wicked grin against her lips. His hand went to the scarf in her hair, uniting it and letting it drift to the floor before he dug his fingers between the locks at her nape. “Miss Taylor,” he said, lifting the hem of her dress with his other hand. “You’re going to be very untidy… for me,” he whispered against her neck. Her lips parted as his hand fisted in her hair. “Filthy.”

heka

“Would I really look for jewels in your study? Oh,” he laughed mirthlessly, “I love being underestimated. It’s an invaluable element of my persona.”

A numbness flooded her as the gravity of this confirmation took root — she was the key to this tomb all along.

The lotus had been passed down for thousands and thousands of years and she was the first to make it here, the first in her family to solve the mystery.

And when Ben and Edie looked up, now that the treasure room was brightly illuminated, the light reflected off the riches revealed that the ceiling was painted indigo blue with hundreds of shimmering golden stars.