Hot and Steamy by Jean Rabe Read Free Book Online

you read on Egypt?”
    â€œOh . . . a few more than I’ve written.” He hoped he hadn’t sounded arrogant.
    â€œI should like to read them all,” she said.
    He leaned in close, taking her hands, his lips inches from hers.
    â€œProfessor Watts, it’s after midnight. I really must be going.” She leveled her gaze. “I do have my reputation to consider. Thank you for a lovely evening, and I hope we see each other again.”
    Before the archaeologist could beg her to stay, she’d vanished.
    The next morning Jameson tried to concentrate on deciphering a parchment rubbing. He swore he could still smell her perfume. He’d had trouble sleeping last night, so consumed with thoughts of her; he’d dampened the sheets with his dreams. Why hadn’t he leaned in all the way and kissed her after dinner? Had she left because he’d hesitated? Because he didn’t have the courage or presence to . . . .
    He was startled by a knock at his cabin door. He’d trimmed his goatee, combed his thinning hair and changed his shirt, secretly hoping to run into Sinclair. Was it she at the door?
    After a quick peek into his looking glass, he pulled the door open. His heart leapt.
    â€œGood morning, Miss Upchurch.”
    â€œSinclair, please.” She poked her head into the dimly lit cabin overflowing with all things Egyptian. A small baboon carved from carnelian sat on the corner of his desk and a pomegranate-shaped vase, mud seals, vials of tiny springs, and brass gears littered shelves among alabaster jars, jeweler’s tools, and funerary artifacts. A small gold-leafed statue of Horus perched on a bookcase piled with fragments of clay tablets, potsherds, papyrus, and well-read books.
    â€œWhy, Professor Watts—it looks like you live in a tomb.”
    She looked radiant, and the fragrance of sandalwood floated into the cabin. Her long red hair was tucked under a cream-colored silk hat wrapped in chiffon. A few tendrils fell at the nape of her long neck. Jade and pearl earrings dangled against her pale skin, and she clutched a small beaded bag in her dainty gloved hand.
    â€œI wondered if you’d accompany me onshore . . . if you are not otherwise busy. The captain told me the boat would dock soon at Ephraim for the day while the supplies are loaded, and I have business there. I’d feel much safer if you’d come with me to town.”
    Jameson stammered his acceptance, donned his tweed jacket, and strolled at her side off the boat.
    The city bustled: barrels and supplies were loaded, and passengers waved to those waiting for them on the dock. The breeze drew spicy scents of late autumn as they walked along the streets of the old river town. For the first time in years Jameson noticed the rich colors blazing from the maple trees. Leaves that looked like gold coins shimmered from tall white-barked trees that lined the main street.
    Sinclair and Jameson arrived at the green-shuttered law office of Rabe and Perlman.
    â€œThis is the place. Professor, I have a bit of business to attend to this morning, it shouldn’t take long. Would you meet me at the end of Canal Road? At the edge of town there’s a warehouse I’m interested in leasing for my new millinery business. Once my meeting is over I’ll meet you there at say . . . one thirty? My lawyer has a key and will show us through the place, and I’d like to get your expert opinion.”
    â€œBut . . . I’m no expert on ladies’ hats.”
    â€œAh, but you are an expert, Professor.”
    He felt the heat of a blush spread over his face. “I–I need a few provisions for my trip anyway, so of course I’ll meet you at the warehouse . . . at one thirty . . . and maybe we can dine afterward at the Blue Oyster. It’s the best restaurant in Ephraim.” He watched Sinclair disappear through the front door of a red brick building. As he reluctantly turned to leave, he noticed