He narrows his gaze at me and I grin. One of the few joys I’ve experienced since coming here is burrowing my way under Bes’s skin.
“Plus,” I add, “it’s technically not the caffeine that desiccates, but the act of relieving oneself afterwards without properly hydrating.”
He doesn’t refute it.
In truth, I’d be better off if I drank an entire gallon of water instead of this disgusting leaf liquid. But I’m already having withdrawals from going without any caffeine for nearly twenty-four hours. Any longer and I might’ve hurt someone.
The only true good it’s done me is momentarily alleviate the pressing ache between my brows. Telling Bes everything that happened at the Temple of Seti I once we settled down in the museum took a toll on my constitution.
Bes, however, makes it worse by intermittently pacing in front of the grime-streaked window facing the front courtyard of the museum.
“Now that you’re appropriately caffeinated, let me see if I’ve got this right.” He stops his pointless patrolling and flattens his hands against the desk, frustration tainting his words. “You get off an airplane in a foreign country, are approached by a strange man claiming to be from the museum, and you decide to gowith him, no questions asked.”
Well, when you say it like that…I set my cup down harder on the saucer than I mean to, attempting to temper my anger before answering. The sound of the porcelain clangs between my ears.
“I had my suspicions, but no one else was waiting for me. He knew my name and the curator’s, knew about my nonna, knew why I was in Egypt. I had no reason not to go with him, despite my admitted misgivings.”
I tuck a bothersome strand of hair behind my ear.Bes’s eyes follow the movement. “Besides, I’d just weathered a transatlantic flight—I wasn’t wholly in my right mind.”
He ducks his chin and eyes me over the rounded metal rims of his glasses. “This isn’t your first flight across the pond, princess. That much, I know.”
“Don’t start the princess crap with me,” I warn him. “I’m not some damsel in distress, and you’re no knight in shining armor. If anything,Isavedyou.”
His fingers flex on the wood.
“You’re right—you’re no princess. You’re…” He casts a searching gaze to the ceiling. “A complication. And I can’t decide whether or not you’re going to be a worthwhile one or the absolute death of me.”
I grin. “Both. I’m always both.”
His dark eyes flash and my grin widens.Oh yes, I definitely enjoy getting under his skin.
Wordlessly, he leans toward me until we’re mere inches apart. The sandalwood I recognized in the desert wafts over me at his proximity.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear: you wouldn’t have made it out of the desert alive without me.”
I sit back in my seat to put some distance between us and regard him. “If you’d been on time, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place.”
He scoffs. “Well, if you’d kept your wits about you, you wouldn’t have placed yourself at the mercy of a murderous fascist.”
How dare he?
I lean toward him once again. “Ifyouhad done your job, I would’ve been forced to put my trust in the wrong man. Don’t blame me for your foul-up.”
When he doesn’t come up with an answer for that one, we stare at each other a moment. Annoyance flickers in his deep brown eyes and flares his nostrils.God, he’s fascinating.I skim his features to try—and fail—to understand him. It’s one thing to avoid blame, and another thing entirely to place it all on me. Though perhaps he’s just frustrated that things didn’t go exactly to plan. Especially if the British soldier he brought with him wasn’t even supposed to know about our purpose at the temple.
That’s not what fascinates me about him, though. Nonna is the only person in my life who challenges me, who’s not afraid of me or thinks I’m too crass for a woman.Or too crass in general.Bes, however, takes no issue with calling me out. He doesn’t even question my deviant use of the English language. It’s… refreshing. And very unlike my experience with the Brits, who are nothing if not proper.How and where did he obtain his accent?I nearly ask him, but bite my tongue.
Instead, I hold his gaze. He doesn’t flinch. Likely, he’s trying to figure me out just as much as I am him.Good luck. I’m not saying I pride myself in being unreadable, but a girl has to have her secrets.
Bes’s eyes eventually soften. My anger softens with them. He swallows hard and I swear his gaze flicks to my lips before he pulls back.
“Bloody arrogant Yanks,” he says, but it doesn’t have the bite to it I expect.
I reach for the teacup out of habit, hiding my smile.
“All I’m saying is, there’s no excuse for tardiness. You’re on time for tea, but not to pick up a stranger you hired from the airfield?”
He shakes his head. “Not all of us drink tea so religiously.”
