So this was where it started. Not here in the museum, but with this document. Three thousand years ago, the papyrus plants had been mashed together, then painted, and finally laid to rest in a tomb on the west side of the Nile, where all ancient Egyptians were buried.
Now it was here, after surviving a strange journey across millennia and continents. It was because of this papyrus she was even here, in the Egyptian Museum, after an exhausting day at court giving testimonies and listening to other witnesses.
She was contemplating these things when footsteps approached from behind. Sensing someone was staring over her shoulder, she muttered an apology and shifted to the side.
“You’re fine,” the man said, never taking his eyes off the papyrus.
Leila glanced around the room, a bit disappointed her moment had been interrupted. She decided she could always go study something else until the man left.
To her surprise, the man spoke again, his voice gentle. “What a journey it’s had.”
Leila studied him as he regarded the papyrus. He was tall, blond, and probably not much older than her. He held his dark suit jacket draped over one shoulder. It wasn’t unheard of that businessmen would choose to come here for lunch break, but usually at this time of the afternoon, the museum was full of school groups, tourists, and elderly couples.
She was about to walk away when he raised his eyes to meet hers, freezing her to the spot. His eyes were piercingly blue with vivid white streaks of lightning flashing across the irises. A tremor of cold seized her chest. She told herself to avert her gaze, but her body was rigid as if she’d been turned to ice.
“To think it held the clues to the lost tomb. No wonder so many felt it was worth dying for,” he went on, barely moving his upper lip as he stared at her intently.
She merely opened her mouth, at a loss for words. How did he know anything about people dying over the papyrus? The plaque on the display case said nothing of this.
Without another word, he walked away.
Leila remained by the display case as he retreated and bit her lower lip. Where had she seen those eyes before? She studied the papyrus, rubbing her hands over her arms to warm them. What was this sudden feeling of dread? She had felt this way once before, when Karl showed her a picture of his wife. She’d seen his face before but couldn’t place it.
A memory flashed before her eyes. It was dark. She could hardly breathe from the terror. The man had caught her breaking into the Weston Manor. He had held her tight. He had given her that same arctic stare. The sudden realization almost knocked the breath out of her.
No way. It would be too much of a coincidence. Her imagination was probably running away with her.
To confirm her suspicion, Leila glanced around the room for another glimpse of the stranger, but he was gone. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She was going crazy. Someone tapped her shoulder and she let out a squeak. She jumped around and her eyes fell on Xander.
“Looking for something?” he asked slyly.
Relief flooded over her. The knot in her stomach unraveled at the sight of his stylishly tousled hair, warm russet eyes, and impish grin. “You’re back!” she gushed, the chilling encounter instantly melting out of her mind. She threw her arms around Xander’s neck.
“You won’t be rid of me that easily.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to be.”
His lips silenced hers, and for a few blissful moments, she lost herself in his touch as his hands slid around her waist and drew her closer. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss.
“How was Switzerland?” she asked.
“Quite uneventful. The foreign minister is a pleasantly boring chap. I’m not complaining, though.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, then his gaze fell on the papyrus. “Getting one last look, are you?”
“Yeah.” She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. After the museum closed that night, it would be taken downstairs for preservation and storage. “It probably won’t see the light of day ever again.”
“It’s for the best. I’d hate to see it disintegrate before our eyes.” Xander gave her a comforting squeeze. While papyri could endure for thousands of years in certain conditions, outside of their favored environment they were such delicate things. After thirty years of abuse, this one wouldn’t be able to remain on display if they wished to preserve it much longer.
They held onto each other for a few moments, until Xander flicked her nose. “You hungry already, or would you rather wait a bit?”
“I’ve been dying waiting for a chance to have dinner with my boyfriend.” Leila smiled. It was going to be a great evening. Just him and her. No more secrets. No more doubts.
“Let’s go, then.” Xander released his hold and started toward the exit. He held out one hand toward her, fingers spread.
With one last glance over her shoulder at the papyrus, Leila entwined her fingers between his. They left the museum, any thoughts of ominous strangers all but forgotten.
Instead, her thoughts were on Egypt and the treasures beneath, Xander and the journey they were starting together.
And the adventures that awaited them.
END OF BOOK ONE
Note from the Author
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