Touch of Darkness by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page A

promised her, he had her cornered, and she had nowhere to run.
    Deliberately, he loomed in the entrance, blocking the sunlight that reached inside, touching the wall... touching her.
    As she swung around, she crouched into a fighting position.
    "You're nervous." He ducked down and entered the tomb. "Why? Are you guilty?"
    "Rurik. What are you doing here?" She looked him right in the eyes.
    "According to what you told my guys, I'm supposed to meet you here."
    "Yeah. Well." She put her camera around her neck and fussed with the settings.
    Yep. She was guilty.
    "I couldn't wait to see what's inside the tomb," she said.
    "But you're not inside. You're concentrating on the wall carvings in the entrance. Why would that be?"
    "I'm the National Antiquities photographer. I need to record each piece of this tomb." Her black hair curled riotously, as if she'd done no more this morning than run her fingers through the strands.
    Rurik reached out.
    She tried to dodge, then consciously stood still.
    Was she trying to convince him she didn't care if he touched her? Good luck.
    He tucked a curl behind one ear.
    She chewed her lip.
    Smart girl. She should be apprehensive.
    Sliding his hand behind her neck, he pulled her toward him.
    "No." She put up her fists.
    "Try and stop me." He smiled a toothy smile. "I would really like it if you fought."
    "Why? What are you going to do? Force me to kiss you?" She sounded scornful as only an independent woman could sound.
    "I don't have to force you to do anything." He whispered in her ear, "I'm going to get you so hot, we'll melt together, and you'll never know where I end and you begin."
    The way she caught her breath did wonders for his temperament.
    Turning his head, he kissed her cheek. "But later." Later, when he had toyed with her, kept her off-balance, threatened hell, and promised heaven.
    He couldn't make her love him, he couldn't make her stay with him, but by God, if she ran again, she would remember him.
    Turning his attention to the wall, and in a tone guaranteed to annoy her, he said, "This shows Clo-vus getting a gift that looks very much like a ... wait, yes, it looks invaluable. ... It looks like the wrapping on a Hershey bar!"
    Actually, it looked about the shape and size of an icon. But medieval artists didn't use realistic perspective, and stone carvers in the north of Scotland at times lacked the skills of the southern artisans. Until he'd studied the script, he couldn't be sure what gift Clovus had received, and even then, it would be tough; time had worn pieces and patches away.
    "Don't be a jerk." Obviously, Tasya had never meant anything so sincerely. "It's too short and too wide to be a Hershey bar. Believe me. I know my Hershey bars." She looked in the camera's viewfinder again, and took photos from several angles.
    Why Tasya was so interested he didn't know. But in the end, what did it matter? As long as he could read the writing and study the carvings, he would succeed in his part of the quest. "Did you take photos of everything?"
    "I took an overview. Now I'm getting it from every angle using all kinds of light."
    "Good. Still no woo-woo about the booby traps?"
    "Nothing. We're safe."
    "Well." He removed the flashlight from the pocket on his leg. "I'm safe. You're in deep trouble."
    She stopped taking photos and turned on him in exasperation. "You don't have to be obnoxious every chance you get."
    "I'm not being obnoxious. I'm being truthful." He picked his way through the rubble on the floor and around the edge of the wall, and shone the light into the antechamber of the tomb.
    The walls were stone, dense and dark, and his head brushed the stone ceiling. Ancient tools and animal bones cluttered the floor, and before the far wall stood a stone altar. A half-opened stone sarcophagus leaned against it.
    Tasya stepped inside with him. "What's in here?"
    "A mixture of Bronze Age and early medieval artifacts. That confirms my suspicions—the tomb is probably four thousand years