скачать книгу бесплатно
Catriona nodded and walked up the stairs to go to her room. Rafiq stood in the hall watching her go, his thick white robe hanging open.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside and then the front door was pushed open, so violently that it went crashing back on its hinges. A man strode into the hall. A fair-haired European. Tall, broad-shouldered and with arrogant self-assurance. Seeing Rafiq, he came to a stop and put his fists on his hips. A sardonic smile came to the man’s lips and he said, ‘Hello, Omar. I hear you’ve kidnapped my new textile expert!’
CHAPTER TWO
CATRIONA stood on the stairs, frozen with astonishment. Then a great feeling of relief filled her and she went to run down to the hall, but then stopped; Rafiq hadn’t been so taken aback and had moved forward to face the intruder.
‘Good evening, Dr Kane,’ Rafiq said smoothly, apparently in no way put out. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’
So this was Lucas Kane. Catriona stood still, hidden from Kane’s sight by a bend in the stairs, but able to watch the two men as they confronted each other. Rafiq had an inborn hauteur that had probably grown through a hundred generations, but Kane had the self-confidence of a man who had carved out his own success in life. Physically Kane was much the taller of the two, a couple of inches over six feet, Catriona guessed, and where Rafiq was dark-haired and -skinned, he was fair, although he had a deep-golden tan that could only have come from long hours spent in the sun. Both men could have been called good-looking, but in entirely different ways; Rafiq’s features were soft and would one day be full, but Kane’s face would never be anything but lean, almost hawk-like. The Egyptian’s eyes were dark and long-lashed, those of Kane an intense slate grey.
‘A surprise, Omar?’ Kane answered, his eyebrows rising. ‘But surely you knew I wouldn’t let you get away with it?’
To Catriona’s surprise, Rafiq laughed. ‘It was purely a mistake, my dear Dr Kane. And entirely your own fault. You really should make sure that you’re on time, you know. The lady waited so long for you that when my car arrived to collect someone else she thought it was for her and was brought here. Naturally she was made most welcome.’
‘And why didn’t you phone to tell me of the—er—mistake?’
‘I didn’t find it out myself until I met the lady—this morning.’ His deliberate pause emphasised that it was now evening.
‘And since then?’ Kane queried.
Rafiq gave a small smile, knowing that Catriona was listening. ‘Why, the lady has been having a very pleasant time, enjoying my house, my hospitality. In fact I’ve been trying to persuade her to stay here—’ again he paused as Dr Kane’s head came sharply up ‘—as an English teacher for my children, of course.’
‘And has the lady yielded to your persuasion?’ Kane asked sardonically.
‘Oh, come now, Dr Kane, you do not really expect me to tell you that, do you?’ Catriona made an angry movement and Rafiq turned quickly in her direction. ‘But why don’t you ask her for yourself? Please, Catriona, come down.’ And he added, ‘There is no need to be afraid of Dr Kane; he will not harm you—in my house.’ This last on a definitely mocking note.
Slowly Catriona came further down the stairs until Kane could see her. Her hair had got wet while she was swimming and she had undone the plait, shaking her hair loose so it could dry. The dampness had made it curl so that it framed her face and hung in twisting, golden tendrils that caressed her bare shoulders. Kane’s eyes widened and he stared at her face in arrested surprise, but then he glanced down and saw how little she was wearing and his expression changed. His eyes swept over her and then, noticing Rafiq’s partly open robe, hardened and became contemptuous. Catriona pulled the towel tighter around her, feeling strangely indecent under his scornful gaze.
‘Well?’ Kane said harshly. ‘Has he persuaded you to stay?’
Her chin came up. ‘No. Of course not.’
Kane’s left eyebrow rose in surprise at her forcefulness and his gaze lingered for a moment on her face, on the tilt of her chin. Turning to Rafiq, he said jeeringly, ‘It seems as if you’re losing your touch, Omar.’
Rafiq shrugged eloquently. ‘Catriona has been here only one day; perhaps when she has seen your house she will change her mind.’
‘Not if she has any sense.’
‘But she is so fragile, so delicate.’ Rafiq used his hands eloquently and this time both men’s eyes turned to look her over. ‘I’m afraid she will find life in your primitive house far too hard, and then she will—’
Tired of being talked about as if she wasn’t there, Catriona cut in, ‘I’ve already said that I don’t want to stay here. I want to go to the dig.’
‘So instead of just standing there, why don’t you go and put some clothes on?’ Kane demanded scathingly.
Catriona shot him an angry look, beginning to realise why he had such a tyrannical reputation. ‘My cases are already packed; I’ll be down in just a few minutes,’ she said shortly, and turned to run back up the stairs to her room. Hastily she towelled herself dry and dressed, found a bag for her wet swimsuit and shoved it in her case. She couldn’t manage all her luggage alone; going through on to the galleried landing, she looked over. The two men were standing close together and seemed to be in the middle of a heated but low-voiced argument. Catriona called, ‘Would one of you help me with my cases, please?’ and they moved apart.
Rafiq gestured to one of his servants who was waiting near the open door and the man came to help her. When she followed him down she found that Dr Kane had gone outside to wait. Rafiq, too, was waiting. Taking her hand, he didn’t shake it, but bowed over it. ‘You have graced my house, Catriona. And I am sure that you will again.’
‘I doubt it,’ she returned shortly.
He smiled. ‘Wait until you have seen the house at the excavation site. My offer is still open and you will soon be back, Catriona.’
Realising that he couldn’t be argued with, she merely said, ‘I didn’t say you could call me that.’
‘But I am going to. And I want you to call me Omar.’
‘As I won’t be seeing you again, there won’t be any need, will there? Goodbye.’
She turned to leave and saw that Dr Kane had stepped back into the doorway and had heard. He laughed, but waited until Catriona had got into the passenger seat of the waiting Land Rover and he had climbed in beside her before he leaned out of the window and called jeeringly, ‘It seems the lady wasn’t tempted, Omar. You’ll just have to make your bribes bigger in future!’ Laughing again, he gunned the car down the driveway and through the heavy wooden gates of the Garden of the Nile.
The Land Rover bumped along the worn-surfaced road, making Catriona grab for the dashboard to brace herself. The car was old and noisy, and the seat had long ago lost its stuffing. It was so exactly what she had originally expected that she laughed aloud.
Dr Kane glanced across at her. ‘What’s so funny?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing.’
He thumped an angry fist on the steering-wheel. ‘Why the hell do women always say that when you ask them a question?’ he demanded. ‘Is it because you think I won’t understand the subtleties of the female mind—or is it just that your mind is a complete blank? “It’s nothing”,’ he mimicked, falsetto. ‘When I ask you a question, woman, you damn well answer it! Is that understood?’
His manner would have intimidated most women, but not Catriona. She was still overpoweringly grateful that he had rescued her from Omar. And had done it in such a satisfyingly high-handed way, too; leaving Omar discomfited on his own doorstep. She was still on a high from that, full of a crazy kind of excitement that shone in her eyes. But she managed to say calmly enough, ‘I was laughing at the age and discomfort of this car; it was exactly what I originally expected to be met by.’
‘So why on earth were you stupid enough to go off in Omar’s limo?’ Dr Kane asked scornfully.
‘Why didn’t you send someone to collect me?’ she countered, determined not to grovel.
‘I did. You’d gone.’
‘I waited for ages,’ she said accusingly.
Her words were almost drowned under the noise of the hooter as a truck, loaded with live camels, of all things, got in the way. She thought he hadn’t heard, but when they’d passed the truck, he said, as if it was her fault, ‘You were early. The planes are late so regularly that no one bothers to get there until half an hour after one’s due in.’
‘I suppose nobody bothered to phone and check?’
A warning glint came into Kane’s eyes. ‘Don’t push it; I had a devil of a job tracking you down.’
‘How did you find me?’
‘By making enquiries at the airport. But I had to wait till the night shift came back on before I heard you’d gone in Omar’s car. Of all the damn stupid things to do!’
Stiffly, Catriona said, ‘I’m sorry if I caused any inconvenience, Dr Kane, but it was—’
‘Lucas,’ he interrupted. ‘My name’s Lucas Kane. There’s no formality at the dig. And, yes, you were a damn nuisance. An official at the airport confirmed that you’d arrived but I had to bribe a taxi-driver before I found out where you’d gone.’
‘Bribe him?’ Catriona was shocked. ‘I hope you didn’t have to pay him too much?’
‘Enough—and I’m taking it out of your wages.’
She should have expected that. Catriona grinned inwardly, and sat back in her seat. The Land Rover had slowed, caught up in a snarl of traffic on the outskirts of a town. Luxor, she supposed. It was almost dark but the streets were still full of cars, taxis, tourist buses, as well as bicycles, rickety old trucks, horse-drawn buggies, and people who just stepped out into the street to cross whenever they felt like it. Everyone seemed to drive on their horns; it was hot, dusty, noisy and intensely foreign. Magic!
Dr Kane—no, Lucas, had to concentrate and she was able to sit quietly and look him over. Closer to, he wasn’t so fair as she’d first thought; his hair was brown but had been bleached by the sun, as if he didn’t bother to wear a hat. He had a natural air of authority and she guessed that he didn’t often need to browbeat his staff. Catriona wondered why he had with her; to show her how angry he was, perhaps, or maybe just because she was female and needed to be put in her place. Fleetingly she wondered if he was married, then decided he couldn’t be. He didn’t act as if he’d been gentled by constant female company. He hadn’t offered to carry her luggage or open the car door for her, hadn’t asked if she’d had a good flight. And even more important, hadn’t asked if Omar Rafiq had attempted to coerce her to stay. But maybe he didn’t have to ask; maybe he knew.
There was hostility between the two men; she’d not only sensed it but had seen it in their eyes, their actions. On the surface it was like verbal fencing, but she wondered what it would take and what passions would be unleashed if they ever came to open enmity. And she was intrigued to know what had caused two such dissimilar men to have clashed in the first place.
They had circled the outskirts of the town and the traffic wasn’t so heavy now. Some of the cars they passed had lights on, some hadn’t bothered; it seemed to be a matter of personal taste—or perhaps just whether the lights worked. Her eyes flicked back to Lucas’s hard profile.
‘So what are your conclusions?’ he asked in a conversational tone.
‘On what subject?’ she asked warily.
‘Me. You’ve been studying me long enough.’
She blinked, taken aback, but thought she might as well satisfy her curiosity, so said, ‘I was wondering why you and Omar Rafiq were so—abrasive.’
‘Abrasive!’ He laughed. ‘A good word. I have no reason to like him.’
‘Why not?’
He gave her an assessing look. ‘Why the interest?’
Catriona shrugged. ‘I’d like to know what you rescued me from.’
‘Wouldn’t he let you leave?’
‘No.’
Lucas laughed again, really amused this time. ‘I suppose you had visions of ending up in his harem. Did you tell him you were headed for my dig?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘That’s why, then; he only wanted to keep you there to inconvenience me.’
An egotistical remark that Catriona found extremely annoying. ‘What if I’d decided to stay?’
With a shrug, Lucas said, ‘It’s hypothetical; you didn’t.’
‘He offered me far more money than you’re paying me. Double, in fact,’ she goaded.
‘Then you were a fool not to accept,’ he returned calmly.
Catriona let him negotiate a busy road junction, then said, ‘You still haven’t told me why you don’t like him.’
‘I know I haven’t.’
‘So why?’
He shot her a frowning glance. ‘What an extremely nosy woman you are. Do you really want to know about excavation politics so soon?’
‘Yes.’
His lips twitched a little at her unequivocal response. ‘All right, if you must know; Omar offered to sponsor the dig but then backed out at the last minute.’
So that was all it was about, just money. Catriona felt a fleeting moment of disappointment, which changed to anger when she realised she had been used as a pawn in their disagreement. Had Omar, then, merely been amusing himself by trying to frighten her? Had the danger she’d felt all been in her imagination? It certainly seemed rather silly now to have thought herself a victim of white slavery. But she had been alone in a strange land, denied her freedom, and had known distinct unease, if not outright fear. And all because two men disliked each other!
They left the street lights behind and were driving through open country, but it was completely dark and Catriona could see nothing that wasn’t illuminated by the car’s headlamps: trees and the occasional mud brick house.
‘How far is it?’ she asked.
‘Only a couple of miles. We turn off into the desert soon. Have you ever been to Egypt before?’
‘No.’
‘Then you’re either going to love it or hate it; there are no half-measures where Egypt is concerned.’
‘How long have you been out here?’
‘On this excavation site, for three years, but I’ve spent a lot of time here during my career.’
‘You discovered a new tomb, didn’t you?’
‘You’ve been doing some reading. Yes, nearly nine years ago. It wasn’t a major find, though, and it had been robbed, of course, but there were some extremely good wall paintings.’
‘You must have been young then,’ Catriona remarked without thinking.
‘Oh, yes, I was very young—then,’ he agreed sardonically.
‘I didn’t mean to imply that you’re no longer young, just that you must have been young to find a tomb,’ she excused, afraid that he’d taken offence. Though he would have to be very vain to feel insulted by such a chance remark.
‘I know what you meant. I was twenty-four—which some people seemed to think too immature to be put in charge of a dig and handle a find.’
So that was it. Catriona gave him a mental apology; obviously it was the criticism of his professionalism that rankled. Changing the subject, she said, ‘How many people are there in your team?’
‘Five principals: I’m the field director, and my deputy is our surveyor, Bryan Stone. Then we have a pottery expert, Harry Carson, who’s in Cairo on leave at the moment, and a seed and plant man, Mike Pearson. The fifth man is Mohamed Shalaby, who’s also the inspector from the Egyptian authorities.’
‘No women?’ Catriona asked with mixed feelings.
‘There’s Lamia, Mohamed’s wife. She’s not officially part of the team but she’s supposed to run the house, make sure the servants do their work, that kind of thing.’
They had left the fertile area with its trees and fields, the road was no longer tarred, had become just an uneven, pot-holed track. Ahead she could see some lights which turned out to be those of a small village of mud houses. They drove through it, went on for another few hundred yards, and then Lucas drove through an arched gateway and pulled up in the courtyard of a house. Like the Garden of the Nile, the house was two-storeyed, had a gate and was surrounded by a wall. There the similarity ended. There was no garden, no fountain playing, no open door with welcoming servant, and, once inside, definitely no air-conditioning or the faintest hint of luxury. It was just a roughly made house, built to last for the duration of the dig and nothing more. The furniture was old and shabby with no attempt at style. But at least there was electric light, even if the bulbs didn’t possess shades.
Catriona stood in the hallway, looked about her, and laughed again.
‘Having second thoughts?’ Lucas enquired as he dropped her cases on the floor.
‘Second, third and fourth,’ Catriona admitted.
He grinned, and she liked it. ‘I thought you might have. Come and meet the others.’
He led her through a curtained doorway into a room off to the left that evidently served as a communal sitting room. There was a television set in the corner but the programme was in Arabic and only one man was watching. Two other men were seated at a small table, playing chess, and a woman sat on a worn settee, reading a magazine. They all looked round when Lucas led her in. For a long moment there was total silence and Catriona felt rather like an exhibit at the zoo as their eyes assessed her. It was one of the men at the table, middle-aged and weather-beaten, who spoke first.
