She looked around, shaking her head. They were sitting inside an ancient, unused stone courtyard with a lit fire to keep them warm. They’d only been working with the Calverts for a few months now, but it felt right. “Are you happy?”
Thomas grinned at her. “I’m the happiest man in the world. We did it. We are working with the famed Benjamin Calvert and on our way to being famous explorers ourselves.”
She giggled. “I’m not sure about that.”
He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her form. “We are like the Majnun and Layla. Destined to be together.”
Lisbeth frowned. “Doesn’t that story end in heartache?”
He sighed. “I’m trying to be romantic. How about we are like them, but instead of the Majnun roaming the desert alone, he roams it with his true love?”
Warmth coursed through her, and she snuggled deeper into his chest. “I like that much better.”
*
“What are youfrowning about? You should be happy; we have your tablets and are alive,” Thomas said, beaming down at her.
Lisbeth pushed the memories away and forced herself to smile, but it wasn’t lost on her that their happily ever after had turned out just like the Arabic love story. At her lack of response, he sat next to her. “You can talk to me, Lizzie?”
She forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Rafe mentioned this was a song about the Majnun and Layla. It brought back some memories I had forgotten.”
He nodded. “I understand why you left. I don’t like it, but knowing the truth provides a sense of closure that I haven’t had until now.”
Lisbeth smiled, truly happy that she was able to give him that. “I don’t think you turned out like the Majnun.”
He laughed. “Well, I didn’t roam the world reciting poetry. I would be atrocious at that.”
A gasp of amusement escaped her. “No, I can’t imagine Serious Thomas writing or reciting flowery words.”
“I’m not that boy anymore either.”
She glanced at him. “I think there is still some of him in you.”
He tilted her chin up and looked down at her. “Possibly, but if that is the case, I suspect the old Lizzie I used to know is still part of you. Your duchess traits haven’t fully replaced her.”
Their old camaraderie flared between them, mingling with something much more dangerous—a primal need for one another. The all-consuming emotion crackled and hissed, tempting them both. Lisbeth had no doubt Thomas felt it, too. He dropped his hand from her chin and cleared his throat. “I think tomorrow we can return to Latakia so you can arrange a trip back to England.”
She nodded, desperately trying not to concentrate on the feelings swirling around them. “I think that is best.”
Thomas nodded and stood. He looked around and then turned back to her. “I was worried today, Lizzie. I’m glad it all turned out fine.”
“Me too,’ she responded, shivering as she remembered the fear that had overwhelmed her, thinking Thomas was gone.
So many unsaid things seemed to hang between them. It was strange because yesterday, she’d felt they’d found closure and shut the door on their relationship, but now it felt different. When she saw Thomas in the tunnel, she wanted to wrap her arms around him—to get lost in him. All things she should not want.
Thomas wandered away, and Lisbeth let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. It was good that she was leaving soon.
*
Thomas stretched hisback; it ached from the events of the last few days. They were only a few hours away from Latakia. The plan was to stay at the main hotel there, and Abbas would secure passage for him, Lisbeth, and Benson back to England. His time with Lisbeth was almost over.
Rafe glanced at him, and Thomas scowled. “Don’t bring up the madman to me now. I suspect you are the one who told the men to play those songs last night.”
His friend feigned a look of innocence. “Why would I do that?”
He shot him a disgruntled look. Rafe shook his head and sighed. “It has certainly been a crazy few days. I can’t believe we found the tablets.”
Yes, Thomas was happy about that. He didn’t know much about the Historical Society for Female Curators beyond theletters that Rose Calvert sent him. Still, it seemed like they were holding their own against the London Society of Antiquaries.
