Guarded Treasure

by Mae Lovette

“Mr. Pimsley, I think you’ll find I’m a rather well-educated and intelligent woman, and you might be surprised how much I understand the things I say.”

Here in Cairo, I am not known as a lady of the aristocracy, I am simply Edith Taylor, a scholar, well respected in my field for my knowledge of Egyptology. Aside from the fact that my heritage naturally inspires a deep connection with the rich history here, I have lived and worked in this country for many years.”

“Benjamin, this is Edith Taylor, sister of well-known historian, Elliot Taylor. She is a librarian and has arrived quite early for her appointment. Miss Taylor, this is Benjamin Brooks, entrepreneurial expeditionist world-renowned for his discoveries in the east… who has arrived very late indeed.”

“Honey, I think you’ve got your hanky knotted a little too tight there if you think you’re proving you can stay cool under pressure.”

“If you decide to stay on the job,” Pimsley continued, “at the same rate as we discussed earlier, you will be accompanying Miss Taylor in a capacity… much like a bodyguard.”

“I’m not discrediting your credentials. It turns out a woman was the better man for the job,” he offered amiably.

“Laugh all you want,” she spat back “You have no idea how hard it is for a woman to make her own way, in academia, in archaeology, or just about anywhere. Just listen to the way Pimsley introduced us. He dismissed me as a librarian, where he all but trumpeted your arrival as an adventurer known throughout all the land.”

It was the thought of her being anywhere near the tomb at all that he hated.

“To answer your question, although I’m just as intelligent as my brother… I was rejected by Oxford, while he not only attended, but went on to lecture there. I belong in that tomb, and I’m going to prove it.”

“Oh, so it’s action you’re looking for? That can be arranged…” he said, and his wicked smile was back on his face. He was making a pass at her.

In general his demeanor was courteous. Affable, even. When he made these leading comments, they cruised along almost undetected, consistent with his pleasant nature… but with just the hint of something underneath. His suggestions seemed to be intended as an offer, rather than a plea, or demand. He was charming, from a purely objective standpoint, of course.

Ben found that, once again, something about thinking of Edith getting anywhere near that tomb filled him with instantaneous and uncontrollable rage. It choked out the common sense bidding him to remain friendly, and left him with very little willpower to avoid snapping back at her.

His hand rose to sweep an unruly lock of hair behind her ear. When he glanced down to her lips, she leapt from her seat without a care for the consequences. Before she was even fully standing, Ben had shot up beside her, reaching one hand on the railing above them, and the other clamped around her elbow, and they swayed together as the boxcar wobbled again. It raised ire in her to know that if he hadn’t stood up to steady her, she would have toppled over again.

“This train is full,” he said sharply, his jaw clenched. “It was lovely of you to drop in, but sit the hell down, will you?”

she was quite sure she had seen Pimsley with the very same gold Persian pocket watch, and then it wasn’t there when he went to reach for it later on in the meeting. Maybe she was mistaken and it was Ben who had checked his pocket watch. But Ben wasn’t wearing a waistcoat this morning. He was wearing guns.

“No, please continue. Regale me with fables of an ancient cat fight.” She threw a date right at his face, but he intercepted it and tossed it in the air to catch in his mouth. Ben was bringing out a side of her she was not at all acquainted with. Never in her life had irritation collided with attraction so intensely, and so often.

“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.”

“The ambitious librarian with something to prove and the petty scoundrel with nothing to lose.”

There might be nothing on earth he could bring himself to deny her. If she asked for the moon, he’d search for a ladder.

As she sank into the water, it wasn’t Ben’s brown eyes she was thinking about. It was his smile.

“Ben, have you told the crew not to look at me? Why on earth would you say such a thing?” He stood with his hands in his pockets, regarding her. “I didn’t tell them not to look at you. I told them what would happen if they did. It sounds like they chose to conduct themselves wisely.”

His arms came around her, lifting her against him as his hands spread against her back. Turning his head, he rested his jaw to the crown of her head. Discreetly he inhaled her scent into his lungs. It felt like he’d waited an eternity to sink his face into her hair, though it had been less than 24 hours. Iris, he thought.

The collar is said to combine the power of each of these queens to imbue the collar with… magic. Making it a sort of super powerful talisman. It was commissioned by Ramesses as a gift for his eventual heir, intended for protection, but it disappeared before it could be passed down.”

“The Medjai…” they turned to each other and spoke in unison. The Medjai were an order of royal guardians that went back as far as the Pharaohs themselves. When the Egyptian empire fell from power, the band of desert rangers went from being the official royal army to a band of vigilantes.

“The Medjai specifically protect the secret sorcery of the ancient Egyptian priesthood. They would only be here now if they believed this tomb were to hold… any of the ancient scrolls, perhaps.”

He studied her eyes again and looked back at the pendant. They were exactly the same color.

“You better believe I’ll shoot anything that comes near you, without hesitation. I don’t care if I blast the Rosetta Stone to gravel in the crossfire.”

“The secret to getting everything you want in life… having a big strong man get it for you.”

Fuck it, he thought as his mind let go of everything but this moment, he lost himself in her kiss, and her voice, and her body. In how brazenly wanton she was.

She lifted her hands to her cheeks as the realization landed that he snuck in here to rob her, and she woke up and practically mounted him.

The notion that she thought she could get away with chasing a curse through the catacombs without him made a smile spread across his face. “How noble,” he grunted.

They shared a look that was honest, for once. How they saw each other. How the care was creeping into their hearts. Neither of them was alone. They both knew they were falling.

“Do you think it will work?” she whispered. He looked her in the eye, his smile widening more. “I think we’re about to have a hell of a time finding out. Because there’s no way you’re doing it without me.”

“Because now I know how bad you want it.” When her jaw dropped he laughed, then blew out the oil lamp.

In his time robbing the graves of the ancient and cursed, he’d seen men’s souls sucked from their bodies. A bright young archeologist on his first dig had been eaten alive by a swarm of scarabs that somehow survived in a sealed tomb for three thousand years. A statue that managed to stand the test of time suddenly crumbled and crushed another excavator for no reason supported by the laws of physics…and then there was the curse of King Tut. Over the years, almost every person on that dig had died, all in mysterious ways.

The current surged when she felt his hand rest low on the back of her coat as he took his place walking beside her.

“Darling, I had no idea you’d be here or I would have sent the car. How naughty of you to come alone, and looking absolutely delicious too,” he said as he drew her hand out to let his eyes rove over her performatively. Oh dear lord, Edith thought.

Ben. The petty thief. The charming scoundrel. The Oxford graduate. She’d been such a fool, on so many levels, she didn’t know how she’d ever recover her signature pomp.

Maybe the best way to bring him back to her was to give him the satisfaction of her surrender.

“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.

“I didn’t think you’d be in a relationship with a man who didn’t take you seriously. I thought you had more self respect.” She felt the wind knocked out of her lungs like he’d struck her across the face. For all the time they’d spent shooting barbs at each other, this one cut deep.

Suddenly he wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Of course Edith Taylor was engaged. She was magnificent.

“Say what exactly? Nice to meet you Mr. Brooks, if at any point in this expedition I try to mount you while half naked, you should know that there’s a man I’ve gone to parties with?”

“Men…” she began, and could hardly look him in the eye. It was so embarrassing. “… have certain expectations of an arrangement like ours.” She fell silent, and wouldn’t look at him now, and it made something inside him feel wild and caged. “Oh Jesus,” he said, tugging his collar like he might overheat. He raked his hand through his hair, and decided. “I’ll kill him,” he said whirling around again and making for the stairs.

“Uptight, ambitious, gorgeous librarians who don’t like me became my type the day I met you.”

“You asked why I never mentioned George,” she said, weaving one hand into his hair, as the other drifted back down over his chest again. “I forgot he existed”

He’d never been as hard as he was right now listening to Edith repeat, over and over, that she had never, in her life, been this wet for another man.

“You should also know,” he said, briefly kissing her twice as he unbuttoned his shirt, “telling me that I make you so wet that you’re confused is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I thought you meant for our mission in the library.” Her hips began to tilt as she arched her back, her body aching for his touch. “Well,” he said with his half smile that made her stomach flip, “we are in the library, and I am on a mission.” They both laughed breathlessly with fire in their eyes.

“Oh, you were more than a belly dancer, weren’t you, Viper. All this time.” Then a thought came to her, and she searched the page again, landing on a section that stopped her. “The Didia were high priests and priestesses who were master artisans. They perfected traditions of musical instruments to drive away evil, engraved ivory wands to cast spells, and… forged amulets for protection.”