“There isn’t enough time in this day to list it all,” he admitted. “Let’s just say that I’ve been a very bad boy.”
Something sparked in her eyes. Excitement, as if she was picturing him doing naughty things. Maybe to her. “Girls like that, you know.”
“Like what?”
She hooked a finger under the collar of his T-shirt and tugged playfully. “Bad boys.”
“Oh, yeah?” His voice was low and rough, and he liked it. “What about you? Do you like bad boys?”
“There’s definitely appeal,” she breathed.
“Good.” He bent and clipped her earlobe with his teeth. The scent of her desire filled the air, and his nostrils flared, taking it in. “Because they don’t come badder than me.”
“I don’t know…” Her tone was flirty, yet husky, made more tantalizing by the way she dragged the ball of her foot up his calf. “I’m hearing a lot of talk and no action.”
“You know what happens when you stir up a hornets’ nest, right?” He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the sound of her soft moan.
“Good thing I’m not allergic to bee stings.”
He opened his mouth over her jugular and allowed his vampire canines to just brush her skin. “My sting is a lot more potent.”
She sagged against him, and he’d have been content to play this scene out, but they’d be pulling into Aswan in a few minutes. “I’m going to go grab my bags. I want you to have eaten everything in the box by the time I get back.”
She stepped out of his arms and jammed her fists on her hips in annoyance, which might have been more effective if she hadn’t whacked her elbow on the wall. “You sure are bossy.”
He shrugged. “Part of the bad boy thing. Now eat. I don’t want you passing out before we even get to the hotel.”
“I’m not going to pass out—”
He cut her off with a kiss. “If you did, I’d catch you.” Gods, he’d laugh at either of his brothers if they said that to their mates, the *whipped idiots. So he tried to tell himself this was all part of the seduction. That it was all part of his dastardly scheme to take Serena’s virginity and her charm.
That it was anything but the truth, because the truth was that Serena was turning out to be so much more than a mission.
They don’t come badder than me
Josh’s words rang through Serena’s head as they approached the hotel on foot. She didn’t believe him. Oh, he walked the walk, talked the talk, and all those other clichés, but she sensed vulnerability beneath the handsome, tough exterior. Like when he’d talked about his childhood. That had been a knife to the heart.
His mother had kept him in a cage? And her family had killed his father? How had he gotten away from that situation? And what had happened to his mother?
Serena prayed she was rotting in jail somewhere. Josh had lived a hellish life, but the fact that he’d survived—with a sense of humor, even—said a lot about his strength.
He walked beside her, sunglasses on, clearing a path through the crowds with nothing more than his size and presence. The cool breeze coming off the Nile ruffled his hair, and every once in a while he’d rake it back from his face to reveal the angular profile she’d never tire of admiring.
Pathetic, really.
He slowed to pet a cat hanging out in front of a meat market. The mangy tom eyed her warily, but it rubbed against Josh like an old friend.
She just shook her head in amazement that someone so strong, so powerful, could be so gentle with a little animal. Then again, his touch with her last night had been skilled and nimble, and she heated up just thinking about it.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for an animal person,” she said, when the cat ran to some scraps tossed into a dish near the shop’s side door.
He shrugged. “For some reason, they like me. My brother’s… wife… has this weasel that won’t leave me alone. She says he’s a traitor.”
“Your brother?”
“The weasel.”
“Well, the weasel has good taste.” His faced colored, and she couldn’t help but smile. “My mom used to say that a man who hates cats is insecure, but a man who likes them is one worth keeping. If he can appreciate a cat, he can appreciate a strong, independent woman.”
He snorted. “Sweetheart, I can appreciate any woman.”
“But the strong, independent ones are the best, right?”
At her teasing—okay, fishing for compliments—tone, he grinned. “I’m starting to see the benefits.” He adjusted the bags he carried on his shoulder. “So, where are we going?”
She crowded next to him to avoid getting run over by a man on a bike who had swerved to avoid a vehicle popping up on the curb. She loved Egypt, but seriously, no one in this country knew how to drive.
“Philae,” she said. “The Temple of Hathor. I believe that hidden inside one of the pillars is a stone tablet with writings that are supposed to work in conjunction with the coin I found in Alexandria.”
He ground to a halt, jerking her to a stop with him. “What is it you plan to do with these artifacts?”
“Why do you ask?”