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Under A Desert Moon
Laura Martin
EMMA KNIGHT’S WISH LIST:1. To realise a lifelong dream to travel to the magnificent Egyptian desert.2. To locate an undiscovered tomb by following her father’s ancient map.3. To avoid all men, especially charming ones – experience tells her they’re the most dangerous!Emma needs a guide to fulfil her quest, but treasure-hunter Sebastian Oakfield is the last person she would choose! He’s charming, he’s arrogant, and his roguish grin makes Emma want to throw caution to the wind. Maybe one night of pure indulgence should be put on her wish list after all… !
‘It’s lovely and cool. Why don’t you come in?’
Emma looked at him as though he were mad.
‘Come in?’ she asked. ‘With you?’
He nodded. He was already regretting the invitation. It had just slipped out—a manifestation of his subconscious and the part of him that wanted her naked in the water with him.
‘That would be scandalous.’
Seb shrugged. ‘There’s no one here to tell.’
Emma looked around her, just to confirm they were alone.
‘I won’t look as you get in,’ Seb said. ‘On my honour.’
Emma slipped off her heavy boots and cautiously dipped a toe into the water. Seb could tell it must feel heavenly against her skin as she sighed and closed her eyes.
‘I suppose if you stick to your half …’
Seb grinned. She was coming in. He knew he should be a gentleman and insist he get out, then turn his back whilst she bathed, but he wasn’t that strong a man. He wanted there to be nothing more than the cool water between their bodies.
‘Turn around,’ Emma said. ‘And no peeking.’
AUTHOR NOTE
Egypt has always seemed one of the most romantic of countries to me. Steeped in history, it is a country of extremes, with the lush lands surrounding the Nile contrasting starkly with the barren desert. Ever since visiting Egypt I’ve wanted to return. I want to gaze again on the magnificent temples, the hidden tombs, and soak up the culture and atmosphere of such an inspiring country. In writing Under a Desert Moon I got my opportunity to return at least in mind—if not in body.
I decided to set Under a Desert Moon in the late Regency period because, to me, this was an exciting time for Egyptian archaeology. Tutankhamun’s tomb was still over half a century away from being discovered, but the wider world was just beginning to become interested in the secrets Egypt’s past had to offer. European academics and archaeologists had just started to arrive in Egypt and bring with them the curiosity of their countrymen back home. It was a time when anything could happen; tombs and temples that no one had set foot in for thousands of years were being unearthed.
I couldn’t think of a more perfect setting for Seb and Emma’s blossoming romance.
Under a
Desert Moon
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LAURA MARTIN writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel, especially visiting historical sites and far-flung shores.
For Mum, for all those holidays and trips to see piles of old rocks.
And for Luke. You make me love you more every single day.
Contents
Cover (#u3b850874-c0c2-5ede-ba92-c3b101283ada)
Introduction (#u79d9479f-9dca-55c8-b098-10fa27040091)
Author Note (#ubc0f1b92-c33f-5670-99fb-92562a6501e9)
Title Page (#u42bbd779-8bf7-5ea2-b238-ca42496216cd)
About the Author (#u0ffa4a74-5119-5637-9caa-c3f4395699b5)
Dedication (#uf416418a-be23-567c-ab8d-a7f1059b896e)
Chapter One (#u4b388132-914f-5db2-b05c-567c7b4ad021)
Chapter Two (#u23f95eee-5c9f-5319-81c1-cded0ef4fd99)
Chapter Three (#uedd628d0-b3c4-53fc-9b4e-6d72ce617ee2)
Chapter Four (#u157af9d2-c7f4-56b8-ad8e-d3c9aab8e666)
Chapter Five (#u7590c3a3-fcc3-523e-9a5b-3a611f9e70dc)
Chapter Six (#u691e038d-4132-5a9f-af14-af0bdc8e92b6)
Chapter Seven (#ub1b5d2a6-1d94-5dc1-acf2-b780e4d2c984)
Chapter Eight (#uc90207a8-5ebe-5c84-b0b6-8487c93eefbd)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_41ef4065-3458-573e-92d9-eda06d134889)
Emma leaned over the side of the boat and allowed her fingers to trail across the surface of the water. It was cool against her skin, a refreshing sensation in the heat of the afternoon sun.
‘Careful,’ Ahmed said gently. ‘You wouldn’t want the crocodiles to bite those fingers off.’
Emma withdrew her fingers from the water immediately and peered suspiciously into the murky depths. She glanced at Ahmed and wondered if the older man was teasing her. She knew the Nile was overrun with the vicious reptiles, but surely one wouldn’t be bold enough to approach their little group of feluccas.
‘Crocodiles are fearless creatures,’ Ahmed said, as if reading her mind. ‘They’ve been known to attack flotillas if the temptation is right.’
Emma shifted away from the side of the felucca and forced her gaze up from the water.
‘Only a few more minutes,’ Ahmed said, settling back in the shade and closing his eyes. ‘Keep watching the left bank.’
She scanned the sloping bank for any sign of civilisation. They were only an hour away from Cairo, their final destination, but for now Emma was much more interested in what lay around the next bend in the river.
‘The Temple of Horus,’ she whispered, as they rounded the natural curve and the rolling landscape gave way to the sharp lines of a man-made structure. It was magnificent. The sand-coloured columns rose skywards and as they drew closer she could even see statues of the hawk-headed god Horus flanking the entrance to the temple.
‘Have we not got time to stop?’ Emma asked wistfully, already knowing the answer to her question.
They had been sailing down the Nile for ten days, a trip that was only meant to take eight. The owner of this little group of feluccas had been patient at first, indulging her requests that they stop at each ruined monument that sat near the river, but she knew he would not tolerate any further delay.
Ahmed spoke to the owner in rapid Arabic whilst Emma tried to plaster her most gracious smile on her face.
She followed the heated exchange and only let out the breath she had been holding when Ahmed returned, shaking his head.
‘He says no. Regretfully they cannot make any more stops.’
Emma doubted he had been that polite.
‘But it’s the Temple of Horus,’ she argued.
‘You will have plenty of time to visit temples and tombs, sitt,’ Ahmed said, using the Arabic title of respect to address her. ‘This is just the beginning.’
Emma knew he was right, but still she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the majestic temple. This was her dream, her fantasy. Whilst other girls had dreamed of rich husbands and fancy titles, Emma had longed for the exotic. Her father was a celebrated Egyptologist and for many years he’d lived in Cairo. Throughout Emma’s childhood he’d regaled her with tales of the pharaohs, myths about the Egyptian gods and descriptions of the modern-day Egypt. For all her life Emma had wanted to see it all for herself, and now she was here.
Instinctively Emma’s fingers closed around the delicate scroll that was hidden in the folds of her skirt. She would have her adventure soon enough, and the Temple of Horus would pale in comparison to the delights she would discover when she followed the map on the scroll.
A movement in the distance caught her eye and Emma squinted into the late afternoon sun. Something was moving at great speed through the temple. She sat a little straighter and strained her eyes, trying to work out exactly what it was.
A man. She was sure of it. There was a man running through the temple at such a speed it was as though his life depended on it. She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Ahmed was doing his best impression of a man asleep and the owner of the felucca was looking ahead, ignoring the spectacular temple to his left.
Emma watched as the figure sprinted out between two statues of Horus and started to slide down the bank towards the river. A second later it became apparent why he was running so fast. Six men, dressed in the traditional long white robes of the Egyptians, exploded out of the temple’s entrance, shouting in Arabic and gesturing angrily. Emma was surprised to see they all had long, curved swords, which they were brandishing in the air in a rather alarming manner.
The first man had reached the bottom of the slope and took a second to glance over his shoulder. His pursuers were just starting the descent. In a matter of seconds they would be upon him. He looked from left to right, seeming to realise he was running out of options. Suddenly he looked up slightly and his eyes met Emma’s over the shimmering surface of the Nile. He paused, grinned and winked at her.
Emma’s eyes widened. She didn’t think she’d ever been winked at before. She knew she should be affronted but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the man. She watched as he tucked whatever he was carrying into his satchel and dived into the fast-flowing waters of the Nile.
Emma held her breath. It seemed as if he was under the water for ages and she scanned the surface for any sign of life. Panic gripped her as she wondered if he’d been swept away by the current, or, worse, eaten by a crocodile. She redoubled her efforts in looking, dreading the thought that she might see a crimson slash of blood stain the blue waters of the Nile.
‘Permission to come aboard?’ a low voice asked close to her ear.
Emma jumped so much she nearly fell overboard.
She looked down, surprised to see the man she had been watching for had surfaced so close to the boat. He must have swum the entire way under the water.
He grinned at her and she found herself smiling back.
With strong arms he hauled himself up over the side of the felucca and collapsed onto the deck.
Mohammed, the owner of the felucca, was by his side in a second and Emma let out a little gasp of surprise as he drew his sword and held it to the man’s throat.
‘Filthy English grave robber,’ he said in heavily accented English. ‘I should throw you back overboard and let the crocodiles have you.’
‘You will not,’ Emma said, surprising herself with the force of her voice.
