face up and raked his teeth on her bottom lip. “That and more,” he promised, voice thick as he shifted to put some space between them.
Reaching back, she frowned and refastened her bra. “What we were just doing is more important than a cheap reproduction necklace.”
Wasn’t it, though. The numbers, however, weren’t going to stop because they were randy. Loosening the cord, Thorne tipped the pouch over his open hand. A delicate gold chain slithered onto his palm, followed by what looked like a small oval amulet. The goddess Isis, her wings spread. He’d seen this image everywhere at the souk and even on posters at the London Natural History Museum. “Where’d you get this?”
Her hair curled wildly over her bare shoulders, and Isis pushed it out of her face impatiently. He could see the dark areolas through the delicate beige satin of her bra, still-hard peaks begging for his touch. The dim lamplight shone on her skin, made it appear milky pale. He wanted to taste it, damn it.
28332903.
“My father gave it to me years ago—the amulet, not the chain. It’s my lucky amulet, but the chain is so delicate I don’t wear it very often. With all this crazy running around, I took it out of my camera bag and stuck it in my—You’re being very mysterious.” Isis bent to pick up her T-shirt from the floor. When she pulled it over her head it was inside out. Not a problem, since Thorne had every intention of stripping it off her again in a few moments.
“Even though it holds great sentimental value,” she told him, squinting to apparently bring him into focus as she pulled the shirt over her hips, “it has no monetary value, you know.”
2833290328332903283329032833290328332903 28332903. “I’m getting a GPS reading from it.”
Her eyebrow rose into her bangs. “For Khan el-Khalili bazaar? Because that’s where he told me he bought it—”
“Hold that thought.” Thorne pulled his comm out of his back pocket, handed her back her glasses, then punched in the longitude and latitude running through his mind like a ticker tape. “Valley of the Scorpions.”
“Really? That can’t be right. He never found anything there.”
“But that’s where he told you he was when he called you that night, right? Maybe he didn’t get this there three months ago. But this is the location I’m seeing.”
“What? Are you telling me this is from Cleo’s tomb?”
“I have no idea whose tomb it comes from, but it didn’t come from the bazaar.”
“Are you positive?”
“Unequivocally.”
She drooped down to the sagging cushions of the sofa. “Are you saying he did find her tomb in the Valley of the Scorpions? For real? The same valley that’s below the dam and about to become a giant freaking lake for water-skiers and fishermen?”
He sat beside her. The ancient cushions obligingly threw her against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “That would be the one.”
“It’s being flooded next week; you remember that small detail, right?”
“Take a breath, you’re hyperventilating. We need to get out there and see if this is even a possibility.”
“They can’t be allowed to flood the valley if there’s even a small chance that Queen Cleopatra’s tomb is right there!” She pushed out of his hold and maneuvered herself off the lumpy cushions to stand up. “They can’t. Who do we talk to first? Minister of Water? Or Minister of Antiquities? This is the find of a lifetime. My God, my father was there—”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“I know for sure! Thorne, he was digging in that valley a year ago. And now—now I bet that was where he was digging three months ago when he was attacked.”
“He was discovered two hundred miles away from the valley, Isis. Two hundred miles. Possibly he found this little amulet a year ago and gave it to you as a memento. Do you have any proof that it was found in Cleopatra’s tomb? No.”
“I just know it was,” she said stubbornly, folding it gently in her palm, then resting her fist over her breast. “It doesn’t have to be based on anything but faith. I’ve never doubted my father. He might be confused, he might be a lot of things, but he found her, I know he did.
“Cleopatra was obsessed with Isis, and they say paintings and statues were all over her homes. If you’re sure this wasn’t purchased in the bazaar, as my father claimed, then it has significant value. And knowing him, if he lied about where