Touch of the Fire God [Scions of the Ankh 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Well, I am sure we can find some cheeseburgers.” He looked like a kid when he said it.

“I take it you like American cheeseburgers a lot.” Rene smiled, totally unaware of her own beauty. Jonathan looked at her for a second before urging her to get off the plane.

After they were settled in a small restaurant tucked away in the airport, with a menu that boasted dishes from almost every nation, Jonathan started the conversation again. “Why is it you’ve never married, Dr. Selkis?”

He stuffed a large fry into his mouth, still managing to look totally sophisticated.

“What makes you think I never married?” Rene tried to evade the question.

“Franklin would have mentioned it, I’m sure.”

“He spoke of me?” Rene was surprised.

“Yes. He was quite proud of you.”

“Well, he never told me that, but it’s good to hear.” Rene took a large bite of her cheeseburger. It wasn’t a Wendy’s burger, but then again, they weren’t at Wendy’s.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Jonathan persisted. He pushed his plate away, looking completely disgusted and done with the meal. Rene swallowed, trying to carefully answer without telling him too much. It was, after all, none of his business.

“I never had the time.” Rene took a quick bite of her burger. Every time Jonathan looked as if he wanted to ask a question, Rene stuffed her mouth. After a while, he just laughed and engaged her in idle conversation.

It felt too weird, telling a stranger that she never had had a romantic feeling for any man she had ever met. For a brief period in time, she had suspected that she might be a lesbian, but after a secret experimentation that ignited no sexual sparks, she knew she wasn’t gay either.

Something was wrong with her, no doubt; still, she was too embarrassed to go get help for it. Hell, she didn’t even know what was wrong with her.

After the quick meal was finished, Rene stood just outside the restaurant doors waiting for Jonathan, who was having a quick word with the establishment’s owner. She knew she would never have had time for traveling like this if not for Franklin. Her work kept her too busy.

She watched an old woman with a long gray braid that reached her waist. As the woman ambled slowly toward her, Rene was reminded that Americans were often targets for beggars and thieves and braced herself to say no to whatever the woman wanted to sell her.

She cast a quick glance into the restaurant, and it appeared Jonathan would be finished any second. The old woman stopped in front of her. Wrinkles hugged her warm, faded blue eyes. The woman fumbled in her pockets, mumbling unintelligibly, and finally found what she was looking for. Slowly, her gnarled hands reached toward Rene with what appeared to be an ancient golden necklace with a charm dangling from it. Rene squinted at the dangling charm. It was a raptor of some kind, maybe a hawk, with the sun symbol in its claws.

“Un petit cadeau.”
The woman’s gravelly voice barely reached Rene’s ear.

“I’m sorry ... I don’t speak French,” Rene stammered, taking a small step back as the old woman advanced on her.

“Un petit cadeau,” the woman repeated more forcefully. This time, however, her bony hand snaked out faster than Rene could react. She grabbed Rene’s hand, slapped the jewelry into it, and closed Rene’s fingers around it like a fist.

“Beau ... deesse.”
The old woman kissed her hand and released it, bowing as far down as her old form would let her.

“No, you must take this back.” Rene looked down at the beautiful relic.

“Please!” Rene called after the fast-retreating figure of the old woman, who moved rather quickly for one so old.

“It is a gift,” Jonathan said quietly, suddenly at her side.

“I think she has me confused with someone else,” Rene murmured, wondering if it was her imagination or if the pendant was actually growing warm in her palm.

“No, beau deesse.” Jonathan repeated the woman’s words. “She did not.”

He lightly patted her elbow and began to lead her away from the restaurant toward the waiting plane. “Wear it, Dr. Selkis. It becomes you.” He walked slowly, watching her reaction carefully.

“It is beautiful,” she began. “I do love the sun.”

She laughed, thinking of how many of her personal things had suns on them: pillowcases, figurines, clothing.

“Maybe later.” Rene stuffed the jewelry into the pocket of her blouse. “What did she say?”

“She said it was a small gift for you ...” Jonathan paused before he went on. “Beautiful goddess.”

Rene laughed at that one. She knew she was an attractive woman, but goddess? Please.

“That’s laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?” Rene giggled. That woman might have been sweet, but she was definitely a lost turnip.

“Not in the least,” Jonathan responded seriously. Rene stopped and looked at him, and he quickly covered his expression with an amused one. “You are very beautiful.”

He extended his arm, and Rene nodded graciously before walking again. “This is the last leg of the trip, so to speak. We should arrive in Cairo in about four hours.”

Rene silently breathed a sigh of relief. She just wanted to get this over with, and she had a nagging suspicion that her life was about to change. If there was one thing Rene hated, it was unwelcome surprises.

* * * *

He grumbled his pleasure. The old human woman had served him well, and he would make sure she would remember none of it. The old woman was merely a means to an end. His love now had his gift in her possession. Through the enchanted charm, he could feel her heartbeat, smell her skin. So close. He felt her soul’s presence. Soon he would awake. How long had it been since he was last awake? Time went on, and then it didn’t.

No matter, the spell would fully wake him. She would no longer be a torturous sweet memory. She was coming back to him, and he had every intention of never letting her go ...

Jet lag claimed her as soon as she stepped onto the plane. Rene had slept a lot this trip, so she had no idea why she was so tired. She might consider slowing down her workload a bit.

Jonathan made sure she was covered in the cashmere blanket before he settled with a tray on his lap and began to immerse himself in paperwork. When she fell asleep, it was quick and deep.

* * * *

“You’ve come back to me,” he said, his deep voice vibrating through her very soul. She had no idea where she was, but it was beautiful. Pillows of every color, every shade, and created from every expensive cloth known to man surrounded the room. Scented candles burned in sconces of pure gold that adorned the walls.

Wherever she was, night was falling, for the large picturesque window displayed the purple and pink remnants of a spectacular setting. Then he stepped out of the shadows, like a predator, silently, with the most dangerous look Rene had ever laid eyes upon. Long pure white hair shimmered; it looked as soft and silky as the strands found in corn. It swayed gently about his waist while he stalked her. The corners of his mouth dug up in a dimpled, slight smile. Pale gray, stormy eyes sighted her and held her immobile. Blond eyebrows, perfectly made, perfectly placed, would have been feminine on any other man, but not this one. It made him appear more masculine, beautiful, and frightfully dangerous.

“Do I know you?” she asked breathily. Her hand unconsciously fluttered to her throat as she wrapped the other arm around herself, trying to find comfort in an atmosphere that reeked of tension.

“Better than anyone,
zenj’a
,” he responded, slowly circling her and watching her intently.

Rene looked around. Was she dreaming? It sure didn’t feel like it. Everything felt real, smelled real. Her wide, dark eyes scanned the room. Nothing was familiar, but something was nagging at her, something desperately trying to be remembered.

“Do you know this place?” he asked, gently now, as he came closer to her, no longer stalking but seeming to go in for the kill. Rene began to step back slowly, trying to keep her composure.

“I don’t think so” she faltered. Her heart began to beat an erratic tattoo against her chest, threatening to burst through. She looked down just to see if her heart indeed was about to burst forth when another shock hit her.

She was draped in a tunic-style dress made from the softest linen she had ever felt. The cloth split at the very top of her thighs, and her long brown leg stuck out seductively. She gasped in surprise.

“I find it just as breathtaking,” he whispered in her ear.

Rene jumped, having neither heard nor seen his approach. He closed in on her, and she backed up until a smooth marble pillar hindered her escape. He stopped, his well-muscled chest just a centimeter short of touching her.

“I find your arousal intoxicating, zenj’a.” His strong hands ran lightly up and down her arms, leaving fire and goose bumps in their wake.

He frowned, though it did not take from his masculine beauty whatsoever.

“Where is my gift to you, zenj’a?" Rene’s brain scrambled, tried to answer his question, but was lost in the sensual proximity. Her fight-or-flight response was sorely lacking.

Her necklace appeared in his hand, and his eyes burned through her as he began to clasp the necklace around her neck. Rene stood there, totally immobile. She wasn't quite sure of what to do or say.

Everything about him screamed a dual reaction. To give him whatever he wanted, to run like hell, and get as far away from him as possible if she ever wanted normalcy in her life. His very touch ignited an interest her body had never felt before. Rene thought sarcastically that this was a fine time to discover she was a normal, healthy, sexual adult.

Truth be told, she was wet as hell between her legs. Hot liquid began to make its way down her inner thigh.

His nostrils flared slightly, as if he could smell how aroused she was. She would have felt ashamed if she wasn’t so turned on by this man.

Instead, she found herself tentatively touching his pecs, letting her fingernails graze the muscles that now responded to her caress. She joined her hands with his, reveling in the feel of him.

Never before had she been so bold in her dreams with this man. But this was her dream, and she had a right to sample anything she wanted. Rene, however, had the sneaky feeling that something was off-key. That now something was different, stronger—real. She could feel his heartbeat in sync with hers, rapidly beating.

For a brief second, she was afraid of this virile man and wondered if she could handle him when he was full throttle.

“Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you,” he said softly, as if sensing her thoughts. “You have no idea what it means to know you are untouched, that the first and only man you will have will be me,” he said arrogantly.

Her touch became a shove, and she dropped her hands from his chest, instantly pissed.

“I don’t recall giving you that notion.” Her dark eyes grew hard with anger at his presumption, but there was no doubt. She still wanted him, and he knew it. Her anger toward him seemed to only add fuel to the fire already burning in her for this man. It was probably the reason why he threw his head back and laughed.

“You are as willful as ever. How I have missed you.” His stormy eyes twinkled at her, the sexual hunger momentarily diminished by his humor—but not for long.

“I don’t know you,” she barked rudely, removing herself from between the wall of muscle and the pillar of marble, not really sure which was more immovable, but glad that at least she was able to do something other than stand there at his mercy.

“You do, zenj’a, and we will have many nights to reacquaint ourselves.” He turned, slowly tracking her movements, amused to think she believed herself capable of escaping him.

“You are but a dream.” She squinted at him. Now that she had some distance from him, she could be a little bolder. “Dreams can be forgotten.”

“That is true,” he agreed, casually leaning against the marble pillar while he studied her with hot sexual intent residing in his stormy eyes. “But I am no more dream than you.”

She stilled then, his words making an impact. Did dream men always sound so rational? So truthful? So sure? She studied him; metal armbands adorned each bicep. One featured the symbol of the hawk, the other the scorpion. He wore a short, white Egyptian kilt that only enhanced the beauty of his long, muscled legs.

Rene felt the atmosphere begin to shift, as if she was being pulled away. She felt a deep disappointment, that she cared not ponder, at being pulled away from him.

“Who are you?” she asked, desperately trying to get a handle on this man who haunted her dreams. But the very atmosphere around her began to tear. She looked frantically around, full of fright, at the man who stood there calmly, somehow relaying to her that all would be right.

The room began to fade, and the confines of an airplane began to twist into the dream.

“Remember me this time, zenj’a” he called to her. Rene’s eyes flew open with the one name echoing in her mind. Ralabos.

* * * *

She came awake with a start, the name Ralabos silently settling on her lips. She felt warm, sweaty, as if she had had her morning jog.