Stolen Heat Part 5

How long had Pete been gone? Two minutes? Three? She couldn't see him anymore, had no idea at this point which direction he'd gone. He was dressed in a tuxedo, for crying out loud. Considering the frigid temperatures, he wouldn't last out there long, and he didn't know where he was or where he was going. Besides all that, there was no way he could see in that blinding blizzard.

He'd figure that all out, right? There were no houses within miles of this property. Woods bordered the north side, pastures and farmland the other three. Common sense would tell him to come back to the warmth of the garage, wouldn't it? Even with her there?

She gnawed on the end of her thumbnail, completely unsure what he would say or do next. In her head she rationalized this was a good thing. She finally had the golden pharaoh. He knew she was alive. If something happened to him now, well, at least he'd be partially prepared. He wasn't her problem anymore. Never really had been, come to think of it.

Her traitorous heart, on the other hand, screamed this was bad news. He could die out there in the cold, or worse, escape and then be found by Busir. Either way, by bringing him with her tonight, she'd just signed his death certificate.

And wasn't that a peachy thought? Everything she'd done the past six years meant nothing because he was too proud to give her five minutes of his frickin' time.

She shook off the thought and told herself he'd be back. Once he discovered they were isolated and realized there was no one around to help but her, he'd have no other choice.

At least she hoped so.

She toyed with the medal at her chest. And stupidly thought of that kiss.

Hot came to mind. Reminiscent of the kisses he'd drugged her with in Cairo, but more urgent. Immediate. Her cheeks heated at just the memory. And like the fool she'd been back then, she'd fallen for it again tonight. Opened for him like a flower, sank into his body. Hadn't even thought to fight it. came to mind. Reminiscent of the kisses he'd drugged her with in Cairo, but more urgent. Immediate. Her cheeks heated at just the memory. And like the fool she'd been back then, she'd fallen for it again tonight. Opened for him like a flower, sank into his body. Hadn't even thought to fight it.

Twice!

Idiot.

Hadn't she learned her lesson where he was concerned?

Kat stared out into the snow once more and finally gave in to common sense. She couldn't leave the door open any longer. Every minute she did, the temperature in the building dropped in increments.

She flipped on the outside light so Pete could find the building in the snowstorm and closed the door. Then she backtracked into the apartment and cranked the furnace up higher, grabbed blankets from the closet and laid them by the register to warm. She went into the closetsized kitchen, found a teakettle and filled it with water.

Having something to do made her feel marginally better. When the water was on the stove heating, she went back to the door to the apartment she'd left open and leaned against the jamb while she waited.

Fifteen minutes pa.s.sed. Twenty. No sound but the wind howling outside.

Where was he?

As a clock somewhere in the apartment ticked off the long seconds, she bit her lip. Toyed with her medal some more. And though she tried to fight it, couldn't help but think of the way he'd looked at her tonight when he'd discovered she was really alive. Of the way he'd looked at her from the very beginning.

CHAPTER SIX.

Six-and-a-half years earlier Valley of the Kings

She'd been right. Peter Kauffman was trouble. The kind that came in flas.h.i.+ng capital letters and needed a warning label slapped all over it.

Kat stared across the table of the dimly lit Italian restaurant as Pete talked about his business and felt the same electricity flow through her veins she'd been trying to tamp down the last few hours.

h.e.l.l, the last few days for that matter.

It wasn't so much what he said-though she did enjoy hearing about his gallery in Miami and the buying trips that sent him all over the globe-it was the way he looked at her. With those smoldering eyes, like she was grade-A prime-cut beef and he was dying to sink his teeth in her.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She eased her hands under the damask tablecloth and wiped her sweaty palms on her black slacks like she'd done several times during the meal.

He really was gorgeous-all blond and tan and s.e.xy in that white dress s.h.i.+rt and those charcoal slacks. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and those hips? Perfection. He was also so totally focused on her she wasn't entirely sure he was real. She'd been wary at first, careful not to divulge too much about her work site just in case he was one of those treasure hunters the crew had warned her about, but he'd barely seemed interested in her dig. And a big part of her was relieved. She really didn't want to get into the scandal surrounding her site and the artifacts that had been slowly disappearing the last few months. Instead he'd steered the conversation to her months in Cairo, her interests, what she did in her free time and what she wanted to do with her life.

And that was what really did her in. No one had ever seemed so genuinely interested in her before. Especially not an Adonis like him.

At some point she realized she needed to open her mouth and say something intellectual so she'd stop focusing on that s.e.xy dimple in his cheek and the subtle curve of his lips. He'd been doing most of the talking, and it wasn't going to take him long to figure out she was practically drooling. So she picked the one topic she knew would get her mind off hot, sticky, sweaty s.e.x and what he looked like underneath those fancy clothes.

And regretted it minutes later when he only stared at her without responding.

"I'm boring you, aren't I?" Kat reached for her winegla.s.s. "Not everyone's as excited about Egyptian history as I am. Sorry."

Pete chuckled, the sound so deep and rich, she was sure she felt the vibrations all the way across the table and into her toes. "You're not boring me at all. I could listen to you talk all night long."

She frowned, knowing he was simply playing her, and told herself not to read too much into his words. But when his grin widened and those d.a.m.n eyes of his sparked, held on hers and dropped to her mouth, she wasn't so sure anymore. There was definitely something happening between them. Something sultry and electric she'd never felt before. And d.a.m.n if it didn't excite and scare her to death all at the same time.

The waiter brought his receipt then. Pete signed the slip of paper and pushed his chair back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Happy for the distraction, she grabbed her purse, slipped the strap over her bare shoulder and headed toward the front of the restaurant.

Outside the air was balmy, with a slight breeze blowing off the water. Beside her, Pete tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks and gestured with his shoulder. "You want to walk for a bit?"

She was more relieved than she wanted to admit. Walking meant she'd get to spend more time with him before they said good night. "Yes. I'd love to."

They strolled the streets of downtown Cairo and talked about sports and politics and what it was like to be an American living and working abroad. Eventually they ended up along the banks of the Nile where lights from high-rise office buildings s.h.i.+mmered over the water, contrasting with mud-brick houses and donkey-drawn carts.

Cairo wasn't a gentle city. It overwhelmed the senses with its noise and chaos, pollution and sixteen million people. But Kat loved it. Sure, there was too much of everything here-too much progress, too much history, too many dangers lurking if you weren't careful-but it was a magical place. Never more so than it was this night.

It was close to an hour later when they finally made their way to her flat. The building was in an older neighborhood, but well-kept and safely lit.

"This is me," she said as they slowed near the front entrance and the five steps that led to the building's main door.

"Nice area." She noticed he took it all in-the other buildings, the modern cars on the street, the security system blinking just inside the gla.s.s door of her building-and approved. The man missed nothing.

"Yeah. One of the guys on our team has been in Cairo a long time and has a flat here. He told us about it when a unit opened up. Personally, I think it's because he has a crush on Shannon and he wanted to keep an eye on her, but I'm not complaining. Beats living in a mud hut or a tent."

He smiled and looked down at her. And that spark pa.s.sed between them again. A jolt she hoped he felt as strongly as she did.

She swallowed and watched as his eyes followed the line of her throat, lower to the skin revealed by her open collar, lower still to the St. Jude medal that fell just above her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Her pulse pounded under that sultry gaze. And she made a choice she never would have even considered before, right on the spot. "Do you want to come up? I think Shannon was hanging out with some friends tonight. She won't be back until morning."

Those smoldering eyes ran up to hover on her lips, higher still until his gaze locked on hers and it felt like he was looking all the way into her soul.

"I'd like to," he said softly. "But I can't. I'm flying to Rome tonight."

Her stomach fell like a stone weight. "Rome?"

He nodded slowly.

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh."

She looked down at her hands, noticed they were shaking and clasped them together. Maybe she'd read him wrong. Was she really that stupid?

His hand closed over both of hers before she saw him move. "Thank you for the nicest dinner I've had in longer than I can remember. I'm glad I met you, Katherine Meyer."

A slight tremble ran through his touch, one she tried not to misread but couldn't ignore. She chanced a look up. And knew she hadn't been completely wrong. Regret and disappointment reflected deeply in his eyes.

And odd as it was considering she wanted him more than she could remember wanting anything else in her life, a strange sense of relief pulsed along her nerve endings.

Something she couldn't define was pus.h.i.+ng her toward him. Something deeper than a s.e.xual connection and a thousand times hotter. He was the most dangerous kind of man because he was the first who made her feel with her heart rather than think with her mind.

Lucky for her, something was holding him back. Something she didn't understand but knew instinctively had just saved her from major heartbreak.

"I'm glad I met you too, Pete." Her throat grew thick. "I wish we'd had longer."

She forced herself to let go and step back before he said something that would make her stop. Without a doubt, the secrets in his smoky eyes would stay with her long after he was gone. "Good luck in Rome."

She turned, hustled up the stairs and with a click of her key left him standing alone on the street.

Present day Northeastern Pennsylvania "Forecast shows snow slowing in the next hour or so."

Aten Minyawi looked up from the handheld GPS he was studying and gave a brief nod toward his counterpart, Hanif Busir, who was seated at the small table in the motel they'd scrounged up, studying the weather on his computer. Minyawi refocused on the picture in front of him. The GPS dot hadn't budged in the last three to four hours. Katherine Meyer was hunkered down, feeling safe and smug.

She wouldn't be smug for long. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. And finished what she'd started six years ago.

"That's good," Busir mumbled with a scowl that said he was talking to himself.

Minyawi ignored him. Thoughts of Kat's large brown eyes slid into his mind. Of the way she'd looked at him back then. Of the way she'd been so trusting. So naive. He'd pegged her wrong from the start, though. He wouldn't do so again.

He ran a finger down the scar on his left cheek. No, she wasn't naive. She'd taken away the only thing he'd ever truly cared about. Made him the killer he was today.

He shut out the memories and emotions he no longer felt. His training had hardened him into nothing more than a machine. And it had saved him.

He stood. "We go now."

Busir glanced up. "But the weather-"

"We go now," he said again. They'd been sitting on their a.s.ses too long as it was, holed up in a motel in the middle of b.u.m-f.u.c.k America, and he was sick of it. Sick of waiting, of watching. Of planning. "Take care of the clerk while I contact Usted and Wyatt. They'll go in from the north side. We'll take the south."

Their partners on this excursion were hired American thugs, but Minyawi didn't care. He'd been at the auction house looking for Kat when she'd gotten the jump on Busir and Wyatt. Morons that they were, they'd let her slip through their fingers. But Minyawi still needed them. At least a little longer.

"Aten-"

He turned hardened eyes on Busir. The man quickly closed his mouth.

Indecision brewed in Busir's eyes. He was debating whether to ask a question or bite his tongue.

Minyawi relaxed his jaw. Though he ran the show, he liked that this unlikely brother-in-arms had a brain and knew how to use it. It could be an a.s.set in the future.

Busir closed the laptop and slowly rose from the metal chair. "We're two hours from her location. With the snow yet, it'll take us twice that. Usted and Wyatt are an hour behind us. She's not going anywhere. If we wait-"

Of course, there was using a brain, and then there was overkill.

"If we wait," Minyawi said through clenched teeth, his accent punctuating each word, "she could decide to leave. We'll secure the perimeter and hold for the others. Now do as I say."

Busir's lips thinned, but he didn't press the issue. With a frown he pulled the semiautomatic from the holster at the small of his back and screwed on the silencer. His footsteps echoed across the tile floor, followed by the m.u.f.fled sob of the night clerk bound hand-to-foot in the back room.

Minyawi glanced at the GPS one last time before pocketing the instrument. He wouldn't let her get away. Not this time.

A m.u.f.fled pop echoed from the back room. Then...silence.

Loose ends.

In the military when he'd been nothing more than a boy, he'd learned to consider all his options. Prepare for the unexpected, never underestimate your enemy. He'd overlooked Katherine Meyer the first time he'd met her.

He wouldn't again.

He now knew her weakness. A weakness he no longer had. She had no family left, no friends. Nothing. But she was loyal.

And that loyalty, luckily, was going to lead him right to her.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Present day Northern Pennsylvania

Kat straightened from the doorjamb where she'd been leaning. Okay, Pete had been gone for thirty minutes. Enough was enough. She was going out to look for him.

In a closet off the kitchen she found several parkas, gloves and a flashlight. The exterior garage door opened just as she reached it.

Pete s.h.i.+vered as he stumbled through the opening. Snow covered his body. Ice crystals stuck to the shadowy beard on his jaw. As she took in his nearly white skin, she couldn't help but think he looked like a well-dressed popsicle.