Lady of Heaven (4 page)

The rain was
increasing, pelting the ground with pea-sized drops as Morgan pushed thoughts
of her ex-husband from her mind.  She rose from the cold, hard stone bench and
wandered to the great entry, watching the sky as the rain came down. Pulling
her hood down over her forehead, she had her head down, fairly blinded by the
rain, as she trudged off.

 “I’ve never
been up here before. It’s really lovely.”

The voice came
from behind. Morgan whirled around, hands out defensively as if she was about
to take someone’s head off. Fox Henredon was standing a few feet behind her, his
hands suddenly lifting when he saw she was preparing to throw a punch. The
smile on his face vanished.

“Easy,” he
admonished. “Sorry I startled you. I thought you heard me coming.”

Heart in her
throat, Morgan lowered her hands and exhaled sharply. It took her a moment to
recover as she lifted both eyes and a hand to the sky.

“How could I
have heard you?” she asked the obvious. “All I can hear is rain.”

Fox shoved his
hands in his pockets.  “Point taken.”

Shock faded, now
she was irritated at the man for sneaking up on her. “How did you get here?”

He pointed in
the general direction of Heaven’s Gate. “I walked up the road from the house.”

She glanced over
at the dirt road that came in from the west side of the castle; it had been
behind her so he had literally walked up on her blind side. Her clear brown
gaze returned to him, regarding him carefully.

“Did my mother
tell you I was up here?”

He nodded. “She
did.”

“Why are you
here?”

Fox could see
that her expression was laced with suspicion. Suddenly, the shoe was on the
other foot and he was the unwelcome visitor in her world.  In hindsight, he
realized he had been rather excited to see her again and was moderately
disappointed that she did feel the same way.  He’d even changed shirts before
coming.  Why
was
he here? It had seemed like a good idea at the time but
gazing into her wary face, he was coming to re-think his strategy.  He was
coming to feel defensive.

“I came because
I had to chase you out of my office so quickly,” he said, not really knowing
where to start. He gave up trying to give her a pretty explanation and went for
the truth. “Look; I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I shouldn’t have called you
dishonest about the purpose for your visit. Once you explained everything to
me, I saw your logic.  I came because I wanted to apologize for being abrupt
with something that is obviously important to you.  Plus, I was hoping you’d
let me take another look at that journal. It’s not often we come across records
like that and I’d love to see it again.”

Morgan watched
him carefully, his apologetic body language and the sincerity of his tone.  It
took her a moment to realize the man didn’t have a rain coat on; he was wearing
a turtleneck and a leather jacket but his head was soaked.  More than that, it
gave her a second look at what a truly stunning male specimen he was; her first
impression at the museum hadn’t been wrong.

He was easily
six and a half feet tall, maybe more, with black eyes and black hair that was
neatly cut and combed, and his biceps had to be larger in circumference than
her waist. She thought she might have seen him somewhere on the cover of a
romance novel because that’s clearly where he belonged. But the truth was that
she was baffled to see him, handsome or not, and wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“You came all
the way out here to tell me this?” she clarified. “All you had to do was pick
up the phone.”

“If I called, I
wouldn’t have the chance to see the journal.”

“You seem more
interested in the journal than in the papyrus.”

He shrugged his
enormous shoulders. “Not really.  I’m interested in both.”

She eyed him,
eventually cocking her head. “You told me you were too busy to translate it.”

He drew in a
soft breath, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he realized this
wasn’t going to be an easy sell. “I’m not busy now.”

A look of
disbelief came over her lovely face. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You
drove all the way up here to translate a document that, four hours ago, you
told me you were too busy to translate? Plus, you called me dishonest for not
having told you the entire story about why I was there.”

“Well, you
were
.”

Her eyebrows
flew up. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

She scowled. “I
told you why, Dr. Henredon.  It wasn’t being deliberately subversive.”

He nodded
patiently. “I realize that, which is why I felt bad about how I handled it.  So
I thought I’d come out here to see what I could accomplish this evening as far
as translating the papyrus.  I’m offering my professional assistance, Miss
Sherburn. I charge most people thousands of dollars for my time but I’ll do it
for you at no cost if you’ll just let me read the rest of that journal.”

She cooled
somewhat, the lure of having him translate the papyrus dousing her temper. But
she wasn’t willing to forgive him yet for humiliating her, especially on a
subject so close to her heart.

“No need,” she
told him, watching carefully for his reaction. “I’m going to take it all back
with me to Los Angeles and find someone there who will help me. Maybe they
won’t be too busy.”

The warm
expression on his face faded.  His features turned stone-cold. “Sure,” he
finally said. “That’s your prerogative.  Sorry to have bothered you.”

He turned to
leave without a fight. Morgan began to feel very bad for being such a bitch, folding
before the man had taken two steps.

“Wait,” she
said, watching him pause and turn to her with a passive expression. She took a
couple of steps towards him, her clear brown eyes without the glare they’d held
only moments before.  “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have been mean about it. Your
offer is generous.”

“You weren’t
mean,” he replied evenly. “You were honest. I appreciate that. Good luck, Miss
Sherburn.”

He turned to
leave again and she called out to him a second time.  She raced to catch up
with him but with her shorter legs and his longer strides, by the time he
turned around, she smacked right into him. 

Fox
instinctively grabbed her to steady her, finding himself gazing down into brown
eyes that were so clear and pure that he swore there was a hint of red to them,
almost like a deep brick brown.  They were quite stunning, as was the rest of
her.

“Sorry,” she
rubbed at her nose where she smashed it against his chest.  As she looked up at
him, she was starting to feel stupid again and her guard went down completely.
“The truth is that you and I couldn’t have had a rougher introduction if we‘d
tried. You were blunt at the museum, I got upset, and, well… I’m sure I’m to
blame for everything so maybe we could just forget about the past four hours
and start over. Okay?”

The warmth was
returning to his obsidian eyes, slowly. “Okay.”

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

She smiled
timidly, dimples carving through her cheeks. “Good.” She eyed him a moment in
increasingly awkward silence before finally wriggling her eyebrows. “Now what?”

He laughed
softly. “Have any ideas?”

She took a step
back so she wasn’t so close to the man; his close proximity was causing her
cheeks to flush. Even in the cold weather, she was feeling heated, like she
wanted to rip all of her clothes off.  But she settled for putting a safe
distance between them.  Then she extended her hand.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m
Morgan Sherburn. It’s nice to meet you.”

Fox’s dark eyes
glittered as a smile spread across his face.  He took her hand, enfolding it
gently but firmly in his massive palm.

“Hi,” he
replied. “Fox Henredon.  And it is indeed a pleasure to meet you.”

He continued to
hold her hand and her smile brightened hopefully. “Will you please help me with
my papyrus?”

His smile
broadened and he squeezed her hand; her sweet dimpled smile absolutely had him
hooked. “I’d be happy to.”

Now her smile
was real. “Thanks,” she said, pulling her hand free and turning for the road.
“It’s back at the house.  Can you stay for dinner?”

“I’d love to,”
he told her, following her as she moved back towards the road. “So you intend
to ply me with food and wine in exchange for my services?”

She grinned, an
expression he found flirtatious and sweet. “No,” she shook her head. “Dinner is
an added bonus to make up for our rough start. I’ll let you read the journal,
too.  In fact, maybe you can help me piece this whole thing together.”

The rain was
coming down in sheets as they moved onto the road that led back to the manor
house almost two miles away.  In spite of the weather and the fact that he was
cold, Fox was feeling giddy and warm in the presence of a beautiful woman. As
the rain came down, Morgan settled in beside him with the hood pulled down over
her head. Fox felt an odd sense of contentment as they walked together in the
pouring rain.

“It’s an
interesting story, I have to admit,” he said. “You must have a very analytical
mind to have figured it all out.”

Morgan shrugged.
“It wasn’t difficult,” she replied. “You’ll see that when you read the
journal.”

He nodded
faintly, alternately watching her lowered head and the road beyond.  They
walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke.

“At the risk of
getting off the subject,” he ventured, “what does Morgan Sherburn do back in
America? Wait; let me guess. You’re a television model.”

She peered up at
him with a strange look on her face, although she was grinning. “A television
model?” she repeated. “What’s that?”

He shrugged his
big shoulders. “You know,” he made weird box-shapes in the air with a wet hand.
“Those beautiful women who work on game shows. Aren’t all the game shows made
in Los Angeles?”

She giggled,
stepping around a large puddle. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I guess so. But
in answer to your question, I am not a television model. I’m a cop.”

His eyebrows
flew up. “What?” he exclaimed softly. “You’re the dibble?”

She looked at
him strangely. “The
what
?”

“It means the
police.”

“Oh,” she
laughed softly. “Yes, I am. For nine years.”

“Nine years!” he
looked stricken. “Good God, I don’t believe it. How in the world did you get
into that line of work?”           

She shrugged.
“I’ve always wanted to help people.”

“Oh.” There
wasn’t much he could say to that, although it was clear that he was still
surprised. “And your husband let you?”

Morgan should
have suspected it was a leading question but she really didn’t care. She gave
him a sidelong glance. “I’m not married. Even if I was, like he’d have any say
in the matter.”

Fox lifted his
eyebrows. “I can’t imagine he would.”

“You would be
correct, sir.”

He snorted and
she grinned. “And you, Dr. Henredon?” she asked pleasantly, much more
comfortable with the man now than she had been just a few minutes earlier.
“What made you become an Egyptologist?”

He watched his
feet as they moved along the muddy road. “Because my great-grandparents were
like yours,” he said frankly. “They traveled to Egypt many times during the
early part of the century and amassed quite a collection of artifacts. I grew
up around it and it always fascinated me.”

Morgan jumped
when a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky; the sun was going down and
the landscape was becoming shadowed and creepy.

“Where did you
grow up?” she asked, eyeing the flickering sky.

“A town in
Dorset called Dorchester,” he replied. “My parents still live there.”

“And your
great-grandparents?”

“Passed on,” he
replied, grinning when she inadvertently jumped against him as another
lightning bolt streaked across the sky. “You know, for a bobby, you’re rather
jumpy.”

She looked up at
him, giving him her very best sneer. “If I can’t shoot it or pepper spray it,
then I don’t like it.”

He laughed. “Is
that your answer to everything?”

“Want to find
out?”

He boomed with
laughter.

November 11,
1922

            I am
very excited about the treasures we are accumulating so far.  I have a lovely
necklace with a vulture on it and several small figurines that dear Louis has
purchased for me.  Louis and Mr. Arak seem not to like one another, which is
unfortunate. The trip would be perfect but for that.

            ~FS