Читать книгу Nocturnal Whispers - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 7

Alec waited in a chair before the museum director’s desk, confident that his plan was perfectly designed.

It had taken him days to reach out to various sources who owed him an assortment of favors. After all, the curse had made him virtually immortal, and in the nearly two hundred years since he had discovered the mummies, he had amassed quite a lot of information on some very influential people and their families.

Thanks to that, he had a letter of introduction from someone on the board of a top British museum whose grandfather had engaged in more than one indiscretion the family wanted to keep secret. Alec was a major benefactor of that particular museum, which happened to hold the remains of his tormentor. He hoped his influence there might make the return of her child easier. He had no doubt the board member he had come to see could assist in a number of ways.

If Alex was forced to steal back the child, the board member would assist in covering up the sudden appearance of a mummified baby within the museum’s inventory. But Alec was hoping to find some other way to secure the child’s remains. Preferably a more legal way, since he now had means that he had not had a century and a half earlier.

Ironically, his brother had died just a few scant months after Alec had sold the mummy’s child. His brother’s death had made Alec the sole heir to their family fortune. Alec had built up those assets over the course of his long existence, but had also spent considerable sums searching for the mummy’s baby. Often, he had come close to finding it, though it had slipped from his grasp time and time again.

But not this time, Alec thought, certain that he would soon have the mummy child in his possession. He had enough funds to purchase an item from the New York museum’s vast collection, but likely not enough for something as rare as what he sought. Such an item was so unusual as to be virtually priceless, and it was unlikely that any museum would willingly part with such a treasure.

Not that that would deter him, Alec thought, as the director laid down the letter and narrowed his eyes as he considered Alec. When the man spoke, a slight chill laced his voice.

“I’m not sure what our institute has to offer, Lord Wright.”

Alec smiled slyly. “A museum as magnificent as this must have some small item stored away with which it might part. Or possibly you would consider a loan of some pieces for an exhibit, if the price was right.”

At the mention of money, the administrator’s eyes glittered with interest. Tight budgets were regularly an issue at many institutions.

“What kind of price are you envisioning?” the director asked, in a friendlier voice.

“That depends. Possibly a cut of the ticket sales, if we’re talking about a loan for an exhibit.”

All earlier frostiness melted away, and the director rose and held out his hand.

As Alec stood and shook it firmly, the man said, “I think that’s a definite maybe. In the meantime, I’ll take you to meet Dr. Morton.”

Alec smiled at the mention of the pretty curator. “Kate Morton? She did a stint at the British Museum, didn’t she?”

“You’ve heard of her?” the director asked as he stepped around his desk and motioned toward his office door.

Alec ambled beside him to the entrance. “I’ve read some of her publications and seen her work on various exhibits. We considered trying to woo her, but when we heard your museum was offering, we knew we couldn’t compete with such a prestigious organization.”

The director nearly preened as he took the lead. Vanity always responded well to praise, a lesson Alec had learned painfully over the decades. In his brash youth, he had misunderstood such insincerity, considering it to be true respect. Now he knew better, but he wasn’t averse to using it for his own gains, or in this case, to right the wrong he had done.

They reached Dr. Morton’s office in just a few minutes. When she came to the door, a flush on her cheeks and looking rather flustered, he felt gobsmacked.

Kate Morton wasn’t just pretty. She was gorgeous.

The various photos he had seen of her on the museum’s website and in an assortment of scholarly journals had seriously not done her justice.

She was tall for a woman, but with the kind of full figure that was sadly no longer in style. Women were meant to have curves, and Kate had them in dangerous abundance. He fisted his hands to keep from reaching for them and exploring their generous contours.

As she turned her dark cocoa gaze on him, intelligence radiated in the depths of her eyes, but it was also impossible to miss the look of instant distrust. He wondered what man had instilled it within her.

“Lord Wright,” she said, as she held out her hand after shooting a nervous glance at the director.

Alec stumbled, realizing that he had clearly missed the introduction because of his perusal of the sexy curator. He took her hand in both of his, and a blast of desire slammed through him. Apparently, given the trembling of her fingers and the gasp she barely contained, she felt it, too.

The mummy’s desire or something else? he wondered, but drove that thought immediately away. He had stopped believing in the possibility of anything real for himself. Kate Morton’s reaction, the smidgen of want she had revealed at his touch, had to mean that she had been in recent contact with what the mummy wanted.

After sucking in a deep breath to control the arousal he told himself was brought on by the curse, he met her gaze directly. “Dr. Morton. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Clearly taken aback, she carefully extracted her hand from his and pushed away a stray lock of dark, silken hair. A furrow marred her brow as she considered him. “Have we met before?”

“I doubt I would forget someone like you,” he said, pitching his tone to the intimate level women had regularly succumbed to during the course of his long life.

The yearning that had been dogging Kate ever since she had touched the sarcophagus responded to the sexiness laced through his voice. Between her legs, she throbbed with need, and her nipples tightened into hard, sensitive nubs. Even the slight rub of her suit jacket fabric brought increased desire.

As she gazed into Lord Wright’s glittering, glacial-blue eyes, she knew he sensed her want and would gladly satisfy it.

He was a handsome man, although not her type any longer. Blond, bright and brawny, he reminded her too much of the ex who had stolen one of her papers and published it as his own. The theft had delayed her doctorate by nearly a year, as she had been forced to produce a new thesis.

“Are you okay, Dr. Morton? You look a little flushed,” the director said from beside her, eyeing her with curiosity.

“I’m fine. It was just a little warm down in the storage area,” she lied, her gaze never shifting from Lord Wright’s face. As she examined his features, she once again thought there was something familiar about him, but could not quite place him.

“I’ll have to speak to maintenance about that. It’s important that area stay at a proper temperature,” the administrator replied, before quickly adding, “I’ll leave you and Lord Wright alone to discuss his intentions.”

As her visitor’s heated gaze settled on her once again, Kate suspected his intentions were not quite what the director pictured, not that she would complain. She was a modern woman, after all, and it had been too long since she had experienced such need, much less fulfilled it.

“Lord Wright,” she said, and motioned him into her office.

He stepped inside, and as she closed the door, she realized that his very masculine presence dwarfed the tiny space, forcing her to lean back against the door to create some distance from him.

“Intimate, isn’t it?” he said, peering around her office before firmly settling his gaze on her. The intensity in those icy blue eyes once again ratcheted up the want within her, making it almost painful.

“I prefer to think of it as comfortable,” she replied, and dragged off her suit jacket to battle the warmth in her body.

A mistake, she realized, as his probing gaze settled on the hard points of her nipples visible through the fabric of her blouse.

“Do I bother you, Dr. Morton?” he said as he took a dangerous step closer.

She jerked her head up a determined notch, and his attention was drawn back to her face. “Not in the least, Lord Wright.”

“Alec,” he said, and inched toward her until he was so close she could feel the spill of his minty breath against her lips. It only made her want a taste of the firm mouth barely inches from hers.

“Alec,” she repeated with a soft sigh, relinquishing her normally logical self to the visceral feelings swamping her.

He groaned then like a man in pain, but immediately said, “Say it again. Say my name.”

She wondered at the need in his voice, which went far beyond the physical, but did as he asked, while tossing her suit jacket onto her desk. She wanted her hands free for other things. “Alec.”

A shudder shook his body before he took a final step, bringing that hard muscular body flush against hers. The long and very hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly, leaving no doubt about the desire he was feeling.

Alec knew the mummy’s curse was at work here, creating the attraction that gripped them both in its spell, yet he was powerless to prevent his reaction. In the past he had been able to control his response, in part because he knew that his partner would inevitably suffer a visit from the mummy’s spirit if they made love. But there was something about Kate, something in that both wounded and wanton gaze, that had touched him. That made him want to touch her, both physically and emotionally.

“You feel it too, don’t you, Kate?” He nuzzled his nose along hers, avoiding the full lips he wished to taste. Fisting his hands to keep from cupping her lush breasts.

“I do,” she replied, slightly breathless as she returned his simple caress, her probing gaze locked with his the entire time.

It scared him, the intensity of her examination. For the first time in his life, he wanted her to see a man different from the one he had been for so long–a reckless, selfish man who had brought ruin upon himself. He wanted to think he was a better man now, one who was trying to make things right. And yet to do so, he had to lie to her. Maybe even cheat her. That fact twisted his gut into knots, but couldn’t drive away the need he was feeling. A need that went far beyond the physical.

Dragging his gaze from hers, he focused on her lips for the barest moment before he closed his eyes and unerringly found her mouth.

It was soft as rose petals against his, and warm. With a soft sigh she gave herself over to his tentative kiss. For long moments he explored the contours of that fullness, savoring her response. Trembling, she slipped her tongue out to taste his lips, and then opened her mouth to allow him entry.