Undiscovered (Treasure Hunter Security Book 1) (3 page)

She loved Cairo’s bazaar district with its hustle and bustle. Beneath the tourist trappings was a deep sense of history. It had been built on the site of a mausoleum, and the sultans had made it a place of commerce and trade. Even today, it was still an important place for the locals. There were numerous traditional workshops in the Khan el-Khalili, like the goldsmiths and the silver merchants.

And there were also several of her local contacts who traded in antiquities.

She’d already visited them. Her jaw clenched. No one had seen her stolen artifacts. They’d all promised her that if any of them came up on the market, they’d contact her.

But Layne wasn’t planning on holding her breath.

She scowled, anger flooding her like a shot of lava to the veins. She couldn’t believe someone had been brazen enough to just waltz into her dig and steal valuable pieces of history like they were the tourist trinkets surrounding her.

Layne reached up and touched her cheek. It was now a spectacular black and green from the bruising. And a constant reminder of her failure.

Her bosses back at the university had been incensed and horrified to find out about the theft. They’d been sympathetic, but she could read between the lines of the carefully crafted responses.

This was a black mark on her record.

She breathed in a long breath. She wanted her dig to be a success, but more than that, she wanted to ensure everything they found could be studied and find a home in museums where anyone could go and see it.

She remembered her mother holding her hand, wandering their local museum. It had been one of the things that had ignited Layne’s love of history. She’d been too young then to understand the museum was free, and the only place her mother could afford to take her.

Anyway, now the university was on edge, and in response to the theft and attack on her, they’d hired a specialized security firm.

Layne’s scowl deepened, making her bruise throb. It was all she needed. Untrained people trampling her dig, issuing orders in the name of security, and getting in her way.

Still, if it helped safeguard the artifacts and keep her team safe, she wasn’t going to argue.

She kept walking. The university’s Cairo office and lab were a few blocks away. She’d spend the rest of the day there, another night in the city waiting for the security team to arrive, then head back to the dig.

Already she was itching to be back there.

She paused as a group of men in local jellabiya robes cut across in front of her.

It was then she felt a strange prickling at the back of her neck.

Someone was watching her.

She stood frozen for a second. This had to just be a bad reaction to being attacked.

Still, she slowly turned her head. Like she was looking at the nearby store and its wall of colored scarves and jewelry.

Then she spotted him.

She looked away, but the short glimpse was enough for her to catalogue the dark, intense man. Tan cargo pants, and a navy-blue T-shirt that stretched over a lean, muscled chest and toned biceps. Dark glasses and dark hair cut short.

He was definitely watching her.

Layne picked up speed. She knew these streets better than she knew her own neighborhood around the university. Hell, she spent more time here than her barely used apartment.

Her heart was beating hard, reminding her starkly of lying facedown in the sand while those men took her artifacts.

But she shoved the memory aside. If this man knew where her artifacts were, she was going to find out.

She ducked down an alley. It was lined with tiny, overcrowded stalls. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the man was following. She smiled.

Layne followed a twisting path through the market. Then she quickly doubled back.

She ducked through a shortcut covered by a stall selling bad reproductions of Tutankhamun’s mask and Nefertiti’s bust. She ducked out into the neighboring alley and came back around.

She spied the man ahead of her now, hands on his lean hips, looking around. His lips were moving and she got the distinct impression he was cursing.

She reached into the small courier bag she had draped over her body. She pulled out her tube of lip gloss and held it in her hand. She came up behind him and jabbed it in his lower back.

“Don’t move,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I do want to know why you’re following me.”

When he shifted his weight, like he was going to spin around, she jabbed him harder.

“I’ve already had someone punch me in the face and knock me out this week, so I’m not in a particularly good mood. You don’t want to test me.”

***

She’d gotten the drop on him.
Damn
.

Dec couldn’t believe it. Taken in by an archeologist. If Logan ever found out, Dec would never live it down.

He weighed his options. Despite whatever weapon she was carrying—and despite the firm determination in her voice—he was fairly certain Dr. Rush wasn’t going to shoot him in the middle of a crowded Cairo market.

Dec spun. He grabbed her wrist and heard her gasp. As he snatched the weapon, he got a glimpse of wide, green-gold eyes under blunt bangs. Then the little spitfire moved, bringing her knee up and aiming for his crotch.

He wrapped his arms around her, spun, and pushed her through a wall of fabric. Somewhere nearby, a shopkeeper squawked. Dec kept going until he had her pressed up against a stone wall, his body pinning hers there so she couldn’t use her knee.

She still fought, though, wriggling and twisting.

“Stop, before you hurt yourself,” he growled.

She kept fighting.

“Dr. Rush, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She stilled, her mutinous gaze meeting his. “Let me go.”

He ignored her and lifted the tiny thing in his hand. His eyebrows shot upward, embarrassment flooding him. “Lipstick? You pretended you were going to shoot me with lipstick?”

She sniffed. “It’s lip gloss. And I never said I was going to shoot you. I said I didn’t want to
hurt
you.” She frowned. “I’m rapidly thinking about changing my mind, though.”

Dec shook his head with reluctant admiration. “Dr. Rush, you can try, but I don’t recommend it.”

Her frown deepened, and he realized she had really full lips that were at odds with the rest of her face, with its sharp cheekbones and pointed chin. Pressed up against her, he felt tightly-packed curves and full breasts. His cock stirred and he cursed mentally.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Declan Ward. Treasure Hunter Security.”

Her eyes widened. “The new security specialist.” She pushed at his chest.

Dec stepped back, and for a second, missed the warmth of her.

“Why the hell were you stalking me?” she snapped.

“I was checking you out. It’s part of my job.”

Now her eyebrows rose, disappearing under her bangs. “You think
I
have something to do with the theft of my artifacts?”

Yep, she was smart. He saw the intelligence glittering in those fascinating hazel eyes of hers. Large flecks of gold glimmered against the deep green.

Her voice rose. “You think I did this to myself?” She waved at her cheek.

The ugly bruise made his gut harden. In the photo, he’d noted her clear, almost-translucent skin. Up close, on her right cheek, that skin was even more attractive. He could even make out the delicate blue veins beneath her skin. The skin of her left cheek, however, was marred by a bruise that was an ugly reminder that someone had hurt her.

That Ian Anders had hurt her.

“Look Mr. Ward, I don’t know who the hell you think you are.” She poked him in the center of his chest. “But I have dedicated my life to my career. To finding, safeguarding, and studying history and its artifacts. I am in charge of this dig, and I have a hell of a lot riding on it. I wouldn’t jeopardize the biggest opportunity of my career, not to mention my personal integrity, to sell off antiquities.”

There was passion in Dr. Rush. He saw it burning in her eyes, heard it overflowing in her voice as she talked about her work.

God, when had he felt anything like that? Most days, he felt nothing.

Focus, Ward.
“I’m doing my job, Dr. Rush. You want your artifacts back? You want to make sure no more go missing?”

Her tight shoulders sagged. “Yes.”

“Then I’m going to leave no stone unturned. I investigate everyone, until I know every little thing about them. Where they live, how much money they have in the bank, who their friends are, hell, even what color their panties are.”

Her lips pressed into a straight line. “Okay, I guess we’re on the same page, then.”

“And the same team.”

“I’ll save you some work.” She tucked her hair back behind her ears. “I live in Rhodes, Massachusetts, I have fifty-seven thousand dollars in savings in the bank but more than that in stocks and retirement savings. I don’t have a lot of time for socializing, so my friends are the people I work with. My underwear is not up for discussion.”

“You mean you keep an apartment near the university that you barely use, you have sixty-two thousand in stocks and 401K, and you’re closest to your assistant Piper Ross.” He couldn’t resist a small smile. “And you prefer black lace underwear.”

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or to hit you.”

“How about we go somewhere where we can talk?” He glanced around. There were too many people here, and while no one appeared to be paying them any attention, he didn’t want someone to overhear what he had to say.

She nodded. “There’s a small café around the corner where I go a lot.”

Moments later, they’d found seats in a crowded café. Wooden chairs and tables were packed close together in the small space. The butter-colored walls were filled with carved wooden decorations and mirrors. Most of the clientele were locals, wearing regular clothes, but a few were dressed in simple, light-colored robes, and many sat, sucking on the end of the shisha pipes popular in Egypt. The tall, elegant glass waterpipes for smoking flavored tobacco sat on the floor beside each table.

Dec sat on the small chair and edged forward, his knees bumping slim legs under the table. A harried waiter dropped off a coffee for Dec, and a mint tea for Dr. Rush. The tea was in a tall glass, rimmed with gold. Dec’s coffee was of the local variety—he’d picked up a taste for the strong coffee after spending a lot of time in the Middle East. He lifted the small brass pot and poured the coffee into his cup, the bold scent hitting him.

Dr. Rush sipped her tea. “So, you’re planning to investigate all of my team?”

“I already am. I have my team Stateside running checks. If anyone’s opened an offshore account or received a large sum of money recently, my tech expert will find it.”

The lovely doctor’s eyebrows rose. “He must be good.”

“She is.”

Rush’s fingers tightened on her cup. “What if this was just random—?”

“It wasn’t. You must know that a lot of digs in the area have been hit over the last few months. Especially high-profile ones.”

She nodded. “They did seem to know what they were doing.” She shivered.

He saw the shadows, recognized them. He wanted to reach out and place his hand on hers.
Stupid
. Dec was good at protecting, crap at providing comfort. “No one is going to hurt you again.”

She swallowed. “No. Because this time, I’ll be better prepared.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to help you with that. Once we get to the dig site, my team and I will do a security assessment and implement any recommendations—”

“Whoa, hang on, Mr. Security Expert. It is still
my
dig and I have work to do. Any recommendations, you run them past me first.”

Dec stirred his coffee. “Security matters fall under my control, Dr. Rush. Your bosses have already given the okay for me to do whatever I need to do to safeguard you, your team, and the artifacts.”

She huffed out a breath. “I’m not going to stop you from doing that, hell, I
want
you to do that. But can you guarantee your security team won’t hamper our work, or possibly endanger the integrity of our studies—?”

“Nope. Lives come first. Then the valuables. If I have to trample on your dig while I do that, sorry.”

She stared at him. “You like giving orders, don’t you, Mr. Ward?”

“It’s Declan. We’re going to be spending a whole lot of time together, so use it. Mr. Ward makes me think of my dad.” He sipped his coffee, liking the blush of heated color in her cheeks. “And yes, I’ve been giving orders ever since they gave me my own SEAL team.”

Rush looked upward. “A SEAL. I should have known. I knew you were Special Forces, but of course, you have to be one of the biggest and baddest of them all.”

He studied her. He was used to lots of reactions from women in regards to his former career. Some were intrigued in an “I’m going to drag you to bed” kind of way. Others were often intimidated.

But the lovely Dr. Rush was neither. She just absorbed the information as a fact and didn’t look particularly impressed.

“And don’t worry about your dig, Rush. We specialize in this kind of work…we know not to trample the archeology.”

“Okay, Mr. Ward…Declan. Once we get to the dig, I’ll listen to the security recommendations you have.”

She’d do more than listen. Still, he’d prefer they worked together, not against each other.

He leaned forward. “I also wanted to ask you about the attack. Any details you remember that might help me?”

She went tense and set her glass down.

He saw it—the horror, the helplessness—all over her face. He hated to make her relive it. “I’m sorry—”

“No.” She shook her head, visibly pulling herself together. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

Dec was impressed. She locked down her fear and memories, and was looking at him, face composed. A glint of steel in her eye. “Good, okay. How many thieves?”

A crease appeared between her brows. “Four, maybe five. I didn’t see them all. Especially after I got hit.”

Dec pulled out a small notepad and jotted some notes. “Locals?”