She snuggled back against him with a sweet, kittenish sound. “Just you and Egypt. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Well, now you’ve got us both,” he murmured, closing his eyes.
He slept soundly for the first time since they’d left Cairo, completely at peace, finally holding the most important thing in his world.
Chapter Eighteen
Eden awoke to glorious, enveloping warmth. Her back was pressed tight against Max’s chest, his forearm anchored her snugly across her waist, and the heavy wool blankets provided a cocoon of heat against the desert chill. She could hear the faint sounds of the Bedouins breaking camp outside—the clank of metal, the deep, rattling grumbles of the camels—but she didn’t want to move. She just wanted to luxuriate in being this close to Max, completely safe, for as long as she could.
His big body twitched, and then he hugged her tighter for a moment before letting out a slow, contented sigh and rolling away. “We overslept,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he reached for his trousers. “We need to get going.”
“I know,” she said, reluctantly pushing herself to a sitting position. She gave herself permission to watch her beautiful man get dressed, his movements fluid and powerful even in the cramped space. His hair was a charming golden tangle, and his short beard caught the soft light. “How did you sleep?”
She’d slept deeply and dreamlessly, the sort of complete rest she’d been desperately needing. A surge of potent energy pulsed through her, and she jumped to her feet as well, not feeling any of the self-consciousness she might have expected at being naked in front of him.
He turned, fastening his belt. “Too well. You were absolutely right. We’re going to keep doing this. Who cares what the rest of them think?”
She laughed, the sound light and free, and threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply—a fast, fervent kiss that promised more later. “Good. Now, let’s go show them what two well-rested explorers can accomplish.”
They quickly pulled apart and went about the business of breaking camp, moving the few remaining items he’d left in his tent to her pile.
Despite her good night’s rest, the day proved to be the most difficult yet. The sandstorm had left drifts so deep that the camels labored and snarled, and the sunlight was even harsher, blazing down on the disrupted landscape. Eden’s lips cracked, and every muscle in her body ached. The renewed energy of the morning had been spent hours ago, and she hid her shaking hands by knotting them around the reins, feigning focus. If Max noticed, he said nothing.
By noon, they reached a place Amir called “the station.” There was nothing to mark it, just a stretch of plain. A faint trace of pottery shards in the dirt told Eden this was once a Roman stopover, a place where legions watered horses and plotted further conquest. She knelt to examine the shards and heard Max and Amir fall into a low, urgent conversation behind her.
Amir pointed toward the southern horizon, where a faint plume of dust was rising. Max’s body instantly went rigid.
“Riders,” Max muttered, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper, meant only for Eden. He moved closer to her, his shadow falling over the shards. “Amir thinks they’ve been tracking us since the sandstorm. They’re taking a parallel route.”
Eden’s heart seized. She felt a sickening drop in her stomach, the sudden appearance of an unseen enemy threatening to nullify every step, every ache, every triumph she’d earned. Hermind raced.Max will call it off now. He’ll say it’s too dangerous. He’ll be right.
She looked at him, her chin lifting stubbornly even as a tremor ran through her. “Robbers? Or do you think it’s Sir Thaddeus Albright? He has been far too interested in what we’re up to.”
Max didn’t answer right away; he squinted against the glare, calculating their options. “It doesn’t matter. We’re too exposed here. We need to move, and we need to move fast.” His gaze flicked from the dust cloud back to her face, assessing her endurance.
Here it comes.The moment he gives the order to retreat.
But then Amir spoke up, his voice calm, still directed at the horizon. “No, Max. Not for us.” He gestured with a leather-wrapped hand. “The dust turns. They are taking the path to the south. The old salt road. They go to Siwa, perhaps. They are not following our tracks.”
The relief that washed over Eden was instant and physical, so potent it almost buckled her knees, leaving her trembling not from fear, but from the cessation of it. She realized she’d been holding her breath for a full minute.
“A trade route,” Max murmured, the tension in his shoulders easing. “They just happened to be near.”
“The desert is never empty,” Amir replied, wrapping his facecloth tighter before turning back to his camel. “But it is very big.”
