Chapter Fifteen
The next evening, after a day spent meeting with their crew and finalizing last-minute preparations, Max found himself unable to sleep. He went over the plans again and again in his head, trying to run every possible scenario and come up with a solution. His anticipation over actually beginning the expedition was strong, but so were his fears that something would go wrong, that he wouldn’t be able to keep Eden safe.
The clock tower over the Nile struck two bells, marking the dead of the night. Max sighed and put the map he’d been looking at aside, leaning back against the headboard and pulling the blankets up to his bare chest. They were leaving at the crack of dawn the next day, which was now only a few hours away.
He needed to get some rest, but now that he’d let his mind pause from its frantic planning, it had decided to focus on the image of Eden’s lips, slightly parted, after their kiss on the balcony.
Being this close to her again was driving him mad. How could he possibly do his job if thoughts of making love to her continued to distract him?
Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to give in to the fantasy completely. Better now than when they were out in the desert, she was in the tent next to him, and he had to be on alert constantly.
He slid his hand down his stomach and into the waistband of his soft linen sleep pants, closing his fingers around his aching member, sighing in relief at the contact. Christ, he’d do anything to have her touch him this way just one more time...
As though his thoughts had summoned her, he heard the door to his room open, and his eyes flew open to find her standing in the doorway, moonlight illuminating her emerald dressing gown and flaming hair.
For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, but when she closed the door and started toward him, he withdrew his hand as though it had been burned. His cock leapt against his stomach in protest. Thank god she hadn’t come in a few minutes later.
She stopped short of the bed, her outline softened by the gloom. Her shoulders were rigid, and she hugged her arms tight to her middle. “Are you awake?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Max replied, sitting up, his voice a low, gravelly rasp in the quiet. He was still achingly hard, still breathing heavily, his body not yet realizing it had been thwarted. “Bad dreams?”
“Worse,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Bad planning.”
He swallowed thickly, confused. “You want to discuss the logistics now? In the middle of the night?”
She finally lifted her gaze to his, and the raw vulnerability in her eyes wiped away his lingering arousal. “I want to discuss the one issue neither of us is accounting for. The one thing that could get us killed out there.” She gestured broadly, indicating the space between them. “We need to talk about the past, Max. We need to go out into the desert without any anger or resentment between us.”
She took a deep breath, the movement tightening the silk across her chest. “I know what happened: my father refused your proposal. But you never came back to me. You never gave me achance to fight him or to choose you. You just... joined the army and left. You didn’t write. You didn’t fight for me.”
Her words hit him like a physical blow. Max flinched, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “And what was I supposed to fight? Your father’s rejection made it clear that, to him, my suit was worthless. I was a third son. I had nothing to offer you.” His voice was low, edged with old pain. “When I received your father’s answer, I went to your window, Eden. I was desperate enough to ask you to run away with me, even though that would have been disastrous. You never came.”
“My father had locked me in the north wing!” she whispered fiercely. “I spent a week writing letters that never reached you. When I finally escaped the room, you were gone. Gone to purchase a commission.” Her eyes, luminous in the dark, held only regret. “I thought you didn’t believe in us enough to wait for me to get free. I thought you valued your pride more than my future.”
He stood up slowly, the springs of the bed groaning beneath him. He crossed the short distance between them in two deliberate strides, stopping directly in front of her. It killed him to know that she’d tried. He’d completely misjudged her.
“I was terrified of being seen as a fortune hunter,” he confessed, his voice rough. “And I couldn’t let you choose a life that would have seen you ostracized and penniless.”
“We were too young to have known the consequences of our actions,” she admitted, looking down at the emerald satin of her robe. “And now? If we start this again, Max, I need to know you won’t run. I need to know that if things get difficult and I have to choose between you and everything else, will you stand your ground this time? Or will you once again disappear?”
Max reached out, his hand lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I am not a boy who runs anymore. I have spent fifteen years fighting. And I am here now, fighting for yourpermit, fighting for your dig, fighting to be the man who can keep you safe. Ask yourself the same question, Eden. If I stand, willyoustand? Do you still care enough to choose me?”
Eden’s breath hitched. She didn’t speak, but she pressed her hands flat against his bare chest, her eyes filled with tears and longing.
He groaned, a low, guttural sound in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Eden. So bloody long.”
He lowered his mouth to hers with a deliberate, slow intent. The kiss began as a press of lips meant to soothe old wounds. But as her mouth yielded, soft and warm beneath his, the years of enforced distance became unbearable. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, which was once again thrumming with desire. The silk of her robe and the soft linen of his trousers, the only things separating her skin from his, were suddenly an exquisite torture.
He felt the tremors running through her body and moved his kiss down her throat, tasting the lingering scent of her jasmine perfume and the warmth of her pulse. His hand slid inside the emerald satin, finding the curve of her back, the softness of her bare skin against the rough calluses of his palm.
Sweeping her into his arms, his mouth never leaving hers, he carried her the few steps to the bed. He set her down gently, hovering over her, staring into her shimmering emerald eyes. “Are you sure about this, Eden?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Oh, yes, Max. I’ve wanted this all these years.”
