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Nocturnal Whispers
Caridad Pineiro
For over a century, Lord Alec Wright has been condemned to wander the Earth searching for a mummy he stole from an Egyptian tomb.Cursed to see all his loved ones die, he also must endure the spirit that tortures him with unrelenting arousal every night until he atones for his crime. After years of searching, Alec has finally found what he seeks—but museum curator Kate Morton stands in his way.The mummy's spirit is affecting her as well, driving her wild with desire. It is the perfect opportunity for Alec to seduce Kate and obtain the artifact. But in his quest to end his torment, will Alec wind up losing his heart?
Nocturnal Whispers
Caridad Piñeiro
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For over a century, Lord Alec Wright has been condemned to wander the Earth searching for a mummy he stole from an Egyptian tomb. Cursed to see all his loved ones die, he also must endure the spirit that tortures him with unrelenting arousal every night until he atones for his crime.
After years of searching, Alec has finally found what he seeks—but museum curator Kate Morton stands his way. The mummy’s spirit is affecting her as well, driving her wild with desire. It is the perfect opportunity for Alec to seduce Kate and obtain the artifact. But in his quest to end his torment, will Alec wind up losing his heart?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
She came to him as she always did, her exotic kohl-lined eyes dark as midnight, her full lips stained blood red as she taunted him. “You know what I want.”
Lord Alec Wright trembled with both fear and pleasure, well aware of his visitor’s desire. He tried to speak, but she covered his mouth with her cool, smooth hand, silencing him. The sweet, spicy perfume of myrrh, which had been rubbed into her skin when she’d been entombed centuries earlier, nearly overwhelmed him.
“No more empty promises,” she said, a sad smile slipping onto her lips, her eyes fathomless. She ran her free hand across the smooth lines of Alec’s chest, rousing the desire she used as punishment for his crimes.
Alec steeled himself against her touch, fighting the arousal she stirred so easily with her luscious beauty. Death had forever sealed her exquisiteness, and, with his selfishness, he had condemned them to be bound together until he fulfilled her one and only wish.
She snaked her hand downward until she reached the head of his erection. Encircling his engorged length with her palm, she stroked up and down, dragging a moan from him.
“Such strength.” She bent her head to kiss the side of his face, still covering his mouth with one hand while tempting him with the other. Her power kept him pinned to the mattress as she wrought her torture.
Alec murmured a protest and fought against the desire threatening to consume him, but she only laughed and tenderly bit the side of his neck before working her way down his body. Soon her lips were poised just above the head of his cock. The bittersweet smile turned wicked as she licked the tip of his foreskin and dragged a moan of pleasure from him. “You cannot resist, even though you know what will follow.”
No, he couldn’t resist her. He had never been able to resist the allure of his darkest needs. As the “spare heir,” he’d found his parents had cared little for what he did. No matter what, their attention had always been on his older brother. Alec’s failure to earn their approval had led him to try ever more outrageous activities to snare their notice, even if his behavior resulted in disapproval. That self-destructive bent was what had brought him to this: a life of pleasure-pain spent searching for a way to satisfy a mummy’s desire.
She took him into her mouth then and moved on him, working him with her tongue and lips. Her full, generous breasts rubbed along his thighs, creating even greater need.
He wanted to touch and taste, to feel their lushness in his mouth, but he was caught in the web of her power and could not move, could not truly enjoy her. Because the passion with which she dominated him was her punishment for his misdeeds.
She aroused him even more, drawing out his need until he was shaking beneath her.
With a satisfied laugh, she left him poised on the edge and faced him, determination in eyes black as midnight.
“You know what I want.”
She finally released him from her dominion so that he could whisper a sibilant, “Yes.”
Before his eyes, her skin lost its creamy olive hue and became pale as alabaster. A heartbeat later her striking features eroded as her skin became dust as dry as the Sahara. An unseen wind rose up, blowing away her features until she was a faceless entity above him.
She opened what was left of her mouth and keened with centuries-old pain. The sound ricocheted inside his skull, bringing distress so powerful that it pulled him from the nightmare.
Alec bolted up in bed, breathing heavily. His body was hard and aching from the desire she had awakened—a brutal desire he was cursed to endure, alone, until he fulfilled her one and only yearning: to reunite with her child.
In his head came her keening cry once more, reminding him of the loss she had suffered not once, but twice. First when her toddler had died of a fever, and then again when Alec had taken the child’s preserved body from beside the woman’s mummified remains.
Gritting his teeth against the agony of her wail, Alec rose from the bed and shuffled over to a table, his erection almost painful. He drew in a shaky breath, willing his desire to subside as her presence faded, leaving him with some semblance of peace.
Only when he found her child, the mummy he had traded for money to pay off some gambling debts, would he finally have true tranquility and an end to his lonely existence.
At the Formica-and-metal kitchen table that was nearly an antiquity itself, he shuffled various papers and notes. He preferred staying in older, out-of-the-way locations to avoid the paparazzi who were forever trying to hunt him down. This little walk-up had been the perfect place to conduct his investigations, he thought, reviewing his papers yet again and arriving at the same conclusion that he had weeks earlier, when he had begun his trek to New York City.
Her child was here, likely stored away in the New York Center for Antiquities’ basement like many other dusty pieces of history. Much like the mummy’s remains were now in a British museum, visible to one and all who wished to view the collection of ancient treasures spirited away from Egypt’s sands.
So close, he thought, planning how he would get his hands on the tiny bundled child so he could return it to its mother.
Leaning a hand on the tabletop, Alec shifted more papers and unearthed the recent article he had printed from the internet. He stared at the picture of the lovely, dark-haired curator who had just come on board at the museum.
Dr. Kate Morton. Fresh-faced and full of a zeal that radiated even in the posed photograph.
No doubt one of her tasks as a new hire would be to familiarize herself with the museum’s collections and review the inventory in storage.
A perfect opportunity for him to use his skills to seduce the young curator and convince her to give him what the mummy desired.
Maybe then Alec would finally be free of the mummy’s curse. Maybe then he’d secure an end to a solitary life that had grown too tiresome to endure.
Chapter Two
Dr. Kate Morton eased on a lightweight lab jacket to protect her from the chill down in the museum’s storage area, and picked up the clipboard from her desk. Glancing at her list, she gave a satisfied smile at the progress she had made. She already had a number of artifacts she might drag out of the bins and shelving to freshen up a few exhibits, including the Egyptian area.
Key card securely fastened at her waist, she headed out of her cubicle-size office and down to the lower levels. With a grin at the security guard manning the entry, she swiped her card and the security system disengaged the lock on the door. Besides the rare artifacts, quite a number of priceless paintings, sculptures and works of art were safeguarded in another section of this area, necessitating the tight security.
Kate returned to where she had left off the night before, picking through the shelves and bins to check the items against the inventory list the head curator had provided. The records indicated the last time each item had been on public display, and quite a number of relics had been stored away for quite a while. As Kate reconciled the items with the inventory, she also used her cell phone to snap photos of those she wished to use to assemble a few new displays.
Hours passed as she worked in the row filled with a plethora of Egyptian pieces. Although her stomach grumbled as lunch hour came and went, Kate was determined to reach the end of the row before returning to her desk, where she’d commence work on a fresh exhibit. Her mind was already whirling with ideas, and she was eager to show her new bosses that they had made the right choice in hiring her.
With a final check of the last item on the list for that area, she was about to return to her office when she noticed yet another box. It was tucked behind a large crate containing a chunk of an obelisk rescued from the area flooded by the Aswan Dam project. The weight of the stone inside made the crate impossible for one person to move, which was likely why someone had not bothered to reach the other box. But Kate refused to be as lazy.
Dragging out the items next to the obelisk, she half climbed onto the lower shelf and grabbed the cardboard box. Shimmying it from behind the heavier crate, she crawled out into the aisle and pulled the box into the light.
A fine layer of dust covered it, a testament to how long it had been since anyone had touched the carton. The yellowed cardboard was another sign of age for the roughly two-and-a-half-foot-long package. Kneeling before it, Kate peered at the handwritten note on top.
“Do not open.”
There was no signature or date on the warning, and the writing was rather erratic, as if the words had been scratched in haste, or by someone not in full possession of his faculties.
Kate didn’t need a knife to cut the tape sealing the top; it was so old it had long ago lost its ability to stick.
She hesitated as she grabbed hold of the box flaps, a combination of nervous excitement and trepidation gripping her. A chill erupted at her core from that mix of emotions, but she pushed aside her fear and opened the box.
Inside was a small but carefully preserved sarcophagus. The human features painted on it were not quite realistic, as if the artist had been struggling to capture the youth of whoever lay within. Judging from the size, it had to be a rather young child, possibly even a toddler. Despite the age of the inhabitant, green eye makeup enhanced the face depicted on the coffin. Kate recalled that several historical texts and hieroglyphics showed Egyptian children wearing such makeup. It hinted at the fact that ancient Egyptians had thought certain colors possessed sacred energy.
Kate sat back on her haunches, examining other details on the sarcophagus. Gilding covered a good portion of the burial piece, and at its center, a series of small green amulet stones had been set into the surface.
It was in such pristine shape and so unusual due to its size that for a moment Kate wondered if this wasn’t some miniature replica created for display purposes.
Reaching out, she laid her hand on the sarcophagus in the hopes of determining if it was of modern origin. But as she did so a shock snaked up her arm and traveled to her center.
Longing arose, so sharp and powerful that Kate cried out and fell back, breathing heavily. Physical need had her wet and aching, but that response was twisted together with a yearning so deep it made her want to weep.
This is no replica, she thought, sucking in deep, measured breaths to control the emotions that had seized control of her at the first touch.
Because it was an antiquity, she knew she couldn’t open the sarcophagus and attempt to either x-ray or scan whatever was inside without being in one of the museum’s clean rooms, to safeguard the relic.
How about protecting yourself? a little voice in her head warned, and Kate couldn’t deny that a major dose of fear lurked within her.
If just a touch could create such sensations, what would happen if she opened the container? Would she be like Pandora, opening the proverbial box and unleashing untold horrors?
Totally illogical, she scolded herself. The relic was just another piece of the past. But even as she said that, she couldn’t deny that she had experienced some kind of power when she’d touched the sarcophagus.
She rose shakily to her feet and snapped a few photos of the antiquity. Then, careful not to make contact with the item, she slipped the box back into its hiding space on the shelf and replaced the other items around it.
Kate didn’t want any of her colleagues at risk handling the relic until she’d had a chance to explore its provenance and better understand the power she had sensed hidden within it.
But even as she walked away, the emotions that single touch had unleashed remained within her, threatening to swamp her with their physical demands.
Clenching her teeth against the need that had her insides quivering and wanting release, she rushed away, determined to satisfy both her curiosity and her desire.
Chapter Three
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.”
