He advanced, moving in until his lips grazed her cheek. She should have pushed him away but the heat of his mouth felt good.
Olive swallowed hard but a red flashing alert caused her to glance up at the television mounted to the wall behind him. The sound was turned off but a news report was on about the weather. A rare storm was headed toward Alexandria.
She pointed at the television. “Turn the volume on.”
The meteorologist spoke in Arabic. Xavier backed away from her and picked up the remote. With a few clicks the closed caption programming popped up.
“Flash flooding is expected in Alexandria. It is recommended that people remain indoors at least until tomorrow morning.”
Whatever was brewing between them was halted. “There are kids out at my dig site,” Olive said, pulling her phone out of her bag.
“Tell them to get out of there.”
Chapter Four
The next hour was spent trying to raise someone on the phone at the dig site. She’d finally been able to speak with one of the students who advised her they were leaving. She asked them to call her when they were safely back at their hotels. Water in the tombs could be catastrophic to the dig, but she wouldn’t risk anyone’s life over it.
Xavier had gone down to the business office, citing a billing issue he had to take care of. The curtains to the balcony were open and the sun was hidden behind dark clouds. Such odd weather for Alexandria. They really only had two seasons—summer and winter. They were in the latter part of summer. Humidity was common but rain wasn’t. Especially torrential rain.
The gods have spoken.
She spun around at the sound of the hushed voice. Xavier’s voice. The room was empty, but the scent of lilies was strong.
More and more she was becoming a believer that she’d upset the gods and it was Xavier’s fault. She dropped her phone into purse and walked to the door. Leaving while he wasn’t there to influence her was the smartest move.
*
Back in her room, Olive hefted her suitcase onto the stand next to the closet. She’d fulfilled her obligation to Wells and the rain had probably compromised the dig. She wanted to go home. She wasn’t concerned that anyone would find out what she’d done. Mother Nature had just covered her tracks but her conscience would punish her.
She crammed her clothes and shoes into the case. Exhaustion after a long day in the tombs was a familiar feeling. But the kind of tired she felt came from deep inside her soul. The main focus was to get home but her body simply refused to cooperate. Her eyes burned and her lids were heavy.
She leaned back on the pillows to rest for a just a moment and fell into the darkness of sleep. The man with the kohl-lined eyes who’d been following her stood in a carved doorway. All the comforts of her fancy hotel room were gone. The bedside lamps were replaced with torches secured on the wall by golden sconces. Alabaster jars held jasmine, rose and lemongrass oils. The air was cool and fragranced with herbs.
Olive sat on a thick straw mat and nibbled on the last bit of honey cake. A swatch of papyrus was laid out before her and she painted foreign symbols on it. She shouldn’t know what they meant but she did. She was telling a story on the page. The man in the doorway…his name was Mekh and he was guarding her. But from what?
A loud crash in the corridor startled her and she rose to her feet. She wore a silky white gown and jeweled bracelets hung on her wrists. She backed up away from the door. Mekh turned to her with wide eyes just as another man plunged a dagger into his back.
A scream tore from her. “No!”
The killer dropped Mekh to the stone floor and pulled the knife from between his shoulder blades. Blood dripped from the blade. He was unkempt and dressed poorly. This man didn’t belong there.
He smiled. “It is time for you to die, princess.”
Her back hit the wall and tears spilled down her cheeks. She pulled the bracelets off her arm. “Here. Take whatever you want.”
He moved in close to her face. Acrid breath triggered her gag reflex.
“I intend to.” Without any ceremony or warning, the man stabbed her just above her breast.
The searing pain stole her breath. With trembling fingers, she reached for the dagger’s hilt.
A growl sounded from the door. Two large black dogs charged the man and took him to the ground. A vase of blue lilies tipped over spilling water on her still-wet painting.
The man swung at the dogs but they didn’t back down. The animals snarled and tore at his flesh. One of them locked its jaws on the back of his neck and dragged him toward the door.
Olive was afraid to pull the knife from her body. There was little pain and little blood with the blade lodged in her chest. She looked up and locked gazes with another man.
With tears in his eyes, he shook his head. “No. No.”