Lady of Heaven (28 page)

He wondered what
more would ultimately ask of him. He further wondered if he would be strong
enough to refuse it.

***

Two days later

The AirEgypt
flight from Cairo to Luxor set down around late morning, pulling in to the
terminal at the Luxor Airport.  Fox commented on how much the airport had grown
since he’d last been there about five years before.  There were coffee shops
and duty-free shops by the truckload, and Morgan purchased three bottles of
expensive French perfume and a tall latte before they even left the terminal. 

With his wife
looking stylish in her tight jeans, massive designer bag and coffee in hand,
Fox, as usual, ended up hauling their luggage out to the taxi stand.  Allahaba
brought up the rear with his own luggage plus a few other bags. 

It was a windy
day in Luxor, the warm desert breezes caressing the ancient town with the
enormous archaic temples.  Morgan stood on the curb, passing a few dollars to
the man in charge of the cab stand as he flagged down a taxi.  When a battered
white vehicle pulled up to the curb, Fox and Allahaba began tossing the luggage
into the trunk.

Their
destination was the Hilton Luxor, a five star hotel that was along the banks of
the Nile.  Morgan’s parents had sprung for it as a honeymoon gift and Fox and
Morgan checked into the Honeymoon suite. Allahaba went on to stay with his
cousin on the outskirts of town to finalize the arrangements with the
understanding that they would pick Fox and Morgan up at the hotel in the
morning to begin their quest. 

The afternoon
was spent trying to teach Morgan how to pack for the trip.  Fox had been on
digs before and understood the concept of packing light. Morgan understood the
concept, but she resisted adhering to it.  Twice, Fox had to lay down the law
to her about what she could and could not take.  Twice, she had stuck her
tongue out at him. Twice, he had tried to spank her but ended up making love to
her instead.  Now, as the afternoon grew late, he tried again to teach his wife
how to pack without it ending up in a battle because time was growing short.
They had to get organized.

They had gone to
the local bazaar early in the afternoon and picked up four big waterproof
duffle bags and two canvas backpacks that were fairly well made.  Allahaba had
charge of food and shelter, so all they had to worry about was what they were
bringing with them.

Fox had the
duffle bags laid out in the living room of their suite while Morgan was in the
bedroom, still trying to sort the clothing she wanted to bring.  Fox had
managed to pack very concisely, including a portable excavation kit he had put
together from various pieces he had purchased in the bazaar when they bought
the bags. He had brushes, magnifying glasses, a portable Abney survey tool, a
trowel, and a few other things he had shoved into the second of his duffle
bags.  He also had a digital camera, batteries, a tape recorder, and several
other gadgets that would aid in excavation.  He was a professional at this and
knew exactly what he needed.

Morgan, however,
had both of her giant suitcases pulled apart in her attempt to figure out what
was critical and what wasn’t.   Fox, finished with his packing, joined her in
the bedroom and lent his guidance.  The first thing she did was shove three
pairs of jeans into the bag, to which he approved.   Then a couple of pairs of
shorts went in. He was fine with that. But when she tried to put a robe in the
bag, the battle began again.

“But why can’t I
take it?” she wanted to know. “I just want something comfortable to wear when
we’re done for the day.”

Fox put his
hands over his face in exasperation. “Honey-love, you just don’t seem to get
it,” he pulled his hands from his face. “You’re going to be in the middle of
the desert. You’re going to be dirty all of the time and pretty much sleeping
and living in the clothes on your back.  We’re not going to a resort. Think of
no baths and no showers for a couple of weeks, because that’s what it’s going
to be like.”

She stuck her
lower lip out in a pout. “You said I could use some of our drinking water to
clean up with.”

He nodded
impatiently and began rummaging through her neat piles on the bed, pulling out
things he thought were serviceable and handing them to her.

“You can, if
there is enough,” he told her. “But you really need to buckle down, love.”

“I am,” she
insisted, bordering on a whine. “And that’s another thing; what are we going to
do with our luggage when we go? Will the hotel store it?”

Fox nodded his
head, handing her some shirts. “I have to pay for space rental, but they’ve
agreed to lock it up while we’re gone.”

“Are we leaving
the papyrus here?”

“Absolutely. I’m
not bringing that with us and chance it getting damaged.”

“Okay” she said
reluctantly, packing the shirts in the duffle bag. “But I’d really hate for
anything to happen to our stuff.”

“Nothing is
going to happen to it,” he assured her. “But I’m more concerned with packing
only your necessities right now into these duffle bags. This isn’t going to be
a pleasure trip, you know.”

She took another
load of shirts from him with a frown. “I know that.”

He shook his
head as he began tossing her balls of socks. “No, you don’t,” he told her. “You
need to stop thinking like a woman who likes spas, fine dining and a bath every
night and start thinking like a Bedouin.  Do you know that those people are
lucky if they take a bath once a year?”

She was really
frowning by now, shoving the socks into her bag. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“I’m being
realistic.” He stood stoically when she hit him in the head with a balled
sock.  “You need to be, too. How in the hell did you get through police
training? That’s hard-core. Didn’t they make you rough it?”

She puckered her
lips irritably. “I wasn’t in Boot Camp, for Christ’s Sake,” she pointed out.
“The police academy was tough but we weren’t camping out in the desert every
night, living off the land. I went home every night and slept in my own
comfortable bed.”

He just shook
his head. “Not this time, love,” he scolded gently. “This will be like nothing
you’ve ever experienced.”

Morgan sighed
heavily as she finished shoving socks into her bag and moved on to the
sweatshirts.   Fox couldn’t help noticed she didn’t argue with him after that;
she was packing the way he told her to.  He watched her zip up her first bag
and then start piling sweatpants, a straw hat and toiletries into the second. 
He began to feel bad, as if he’d been too harsh with her, so he leaned over to
kiss her on the head.

“Do you want to
go to the temple of Karnak when you’re done?” he asked, rubbing her arms
affectionately. “It doesn’t close until sun down.”          

She shrugged.
“Maybe,” she replied, but she still wasn’t off the subject of packing. “Can I at
least bring my make up or are you going to get mad at me for bringing that,
too?”

He fought off a
grin. “You don’t need any make up.”

She glared at
him. “If I don’t need any make up, then you don’t need a razor or shaving
cream.”

He shrugged
carelessly. “Okay; I don’t. It won’t bother me.”

She scowled
again. “Well, it will bother me,” she declared. “I’m bringing make up whether
or not you like it.”

He laughed
softly. “I’m kidding with you,” he said. “If you want to bring it, that’s fine.
Just know that I think you’re beautiful without it.”

She shook her
head at him reproachfully but the corners of her mouth twitched.  “You have to
say that now. You don’t have a choice.”

He snorted and
took her in his arms, kissing her sweetly before pulling back to look at her.
“I do indeed have a choice, Mrs. Henredon,” he murmured. “I say it because it’s
the truth.”

She softened,
patting his cheek before pulling away to finish zipping up her bag.  “What time
is Allahaba coming to get us?” she asked.

He glanced at
his watch. “Before dawn. Why?”

She turned to
him, batting her eyelashes obviously. “Because if I’m going to be spending the
next six weeks of my life out in the desert without even basic comforts, I want
to spend the rest of the day going to the spa and getting a massage.”

He stared at her
a moment before shaking his head and breaking down into soft laughter. “I
should have known,” he slapped a hand helplessly against his leg. “Well, go
ahead. Get it out of your system before we go.  Can I at least expect you for dinner?”

She gave him a
rather impish look as she swooped by the desk, picked up a piece of paper, and
went over to him.  She held it up so he could see it.

“Not just me,
big boy,” she watched him try to focus on what she was showing him without his
glasses. “You, too. My parents sprang for a sunset spa package - a couples’
massage, a couples’ lavender infused bath, and dinner on our own private patio
overlooking the pool. How does that sound?”

He finally
focused on what she was showing him; it was a pre-paid receipt for the hotel’s
special Honeymoon Spa Package.  He also saw the price and his eyebrows flew up.

“Bloody hell!”
he hissed. “Your parents could have bought us our own country for what they
paid for that package.”

Morgan giggled
as he gasped. “It’s not that much,” she said. “Besides, it makes them feel like
they’re a part of this.”

“Hmm,” he
grunted, handing her back the paper. “You father must own a mint.”

She shrugged.
“Dad owns his own business,” she told him. “He’s in construction; you know,
highways and state contracts and all that. My parents are fairly well off.”

His jesting mood
settled somewhat. “You didn’t tell me I married a bank.”

“You didn’t
ask.”

He scratched his
head, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I don’t make a huge salary, you know. I
hope you’re not expecting….”

She cut him off,
throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. “I
don’t care what you make,” she murmured as she kissed him. “I married you, not
your bank account. Besides, I make a fairly good salary. We’ll do fine.”

He returned her
kisses, holding her fast in his enormous arms. “I hope so,” he whispered. “I’ll
spring for spas every once in awhile, but I’d go broke on a weekly basis.”

She smiled at
him. “Do you seriously feel the need to tell me that?” she wanted to know. “Am
I coming across as too high maintenance?”

He shook his
head. “No,” he replied. “Not at all. You’re a perfectly normal woman who likes
to spend money perfectly normally. But you should know that I live rather,
well,
normally
.”

“So do I,” she
said. “But you’ve discovered my vice and it’s spas and shopping. Sorry; I can’t
help it. My sister is even worse; Josie’s husband has a meltdown on a weekly
basis.”

He laughed
softly, kissing her on the nose before releasing her. “I’m hiding the
checkbook.”

“I have credit
cards.”

“Not if I steal
them out of your purse while you’re sleeping.”

She laughed at
him, going in search of her shoes and glancing at the clock as she did so.  She
whooped when she saw the time.

“Hurry up,” she
rushed him. “We’ll be late.”

Fox made a face,
like a kid who was about to be forced into taking medicine he clearly didn’t
want to take. “Love, I appreciate that your parents wanted to give us this
luxurious gift, but I’m really not a spa kind of bloke.  If I’m going to get a
massage, it’s going to be from you. I don’t like unfamiliar hands touching me
like that.  It’s nobody’s privilege but yours.”

She understood,
sort of.  But it didn’t calm her haste. “I’m sure we can find something else
for you, like a facial or something. Come on; let’s go.”

He sighed
hesitantly, like she wasn’t getting the message. “But….”

“Don’t you want
to sit in a bathtub with me that has lavender and rose petals floating in it
while sipping champagne on ice?”

He thought of
her gorgeous, naked body in a warm tub with him right next to her and his
resistance fled. “I think I could enjoy that.”

“Force
yourself.”

He laughed
softly, following her out the door. “No force at all, believe me.”

November 18,
1923

Today we are visiting the Valley
of the Kings.  The gentleman we met in Cairo, Howard Carter, discovered the
tomb of the ancient king Tutankamun and we have been invited to view his
discovery.  I am terribly excited and hope to have my own great discovery
someday like Howard Carter!

~FS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN