Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) (18 page)

“If her healing needs sped up, I can do it.”

He nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” His hand tapped on his thigh. He needed to get Tamara here, fast. He wanted her safe. She’d been arguing with Jeff, and it had taken every bit of control he had not to lift the kid off his feet and rip his throat out. Speaking of that…

“And, while we’re at it, I would like to have a physical, if you don’t mind.”

“A physical?”

He nodded. “At least some blood tests. I can’t seem to keep my temper of late.”

Selket stilled, and Ramose understood. He was known for his quiet control, and here he was asking for help to control his temper. Her eyes narrowed, and she went from friend to doctor. He didn’t know much about medical studies, but he could see her cataloging the color of his skin. Hopefully, that didn’t show any changes. But he knew he had her when she looked again at his hair. The hair he kept running his hands through when he tried to control his temper. “I’ll run a scan.”

She moved faster than his eyes could trace, suddenly arriving at his side with the medical scanner. She held it at the base of the neck, reading the monitor. “Hmm, your testosterone is off the charts. It’s three times the normal level.” She snapped off the device and headed flipped open her computerized medical reference. “I haven’t seen levels like that since I examined joined couples.”

Shock jolted through him. There were physical signs? “That explains it.” He tried not to grin. Now there was no doubting it. She was his. Of course, he hadn’t intended to mention anything, but, now, that he’d asked for the exam, she’d figure it out anyway.

“What do you mean, Ramose? How does that ‘explains it?’”

“My aggression started the moment I laid eyes on the cousin of the woman who is hurt.”

Her hand froze, leveled above the reader in her hand as though preparing to scroll to another page. “What are you saying?

“I…” He sighed. Best to get this out in the open now. “Her cousin, the other female. She’s my
Kha-Ib
.”

Selket’s mouth worked, but no sound whispered through the room. She lowered herself into the chair opposite him, the reader in her hand forgotten. Her

eyes widened, her face draining of color.

“But…”

Ramose bit back a smile, something he hadn’t had to do in eons. He’d had a similar reaction when he realized who Tamara was. The inability to utter a single coherent sentence.

Nanik
. Fierce possessiveness surged inside him, easing the discomfort and tiredness. All concerns of Mandisa and her fearful treachery were set aside.

“Why?”

“Why?” repeated Ramose, his brow furrowing.

“Yes. Why? First your sister, now you? Why can’t it be someone else who finds their
Kha-Ib
?”

Realization shot through him like lighting, shattering his concentration. The premonition. He now understood. “It’s just the beginning, Selket.”

She stopped whining and met his gaze. “What are you trying to say, Ramose?”

He should have guessed it. The premonition. He knew, when it started, he couldn’t be the only one affected. He bolted from his seat and paced the room, a grin sneaking across his lips unbidden.

“There are more, Selket. I’ve felt it, just didn’t understand what it was. A premonition that something big was coming, to change all of us. Something has brought them here, to this time, to this planet. Our futures are no longer bleak, Selket.”

The color eased back into her face, and her eyes brightened. “You mean, something has changed? We can find our own
Kha-Ib’s
here? All of us? Not just your family? Are you sure?”

Ramose nodded. “I’ve never been more sure.” Just saying the words made everything seem right. “That’s what I’ve been trying to understand. This premonition that’s been nagging at me for weeks. I knew it wasn’t just me who was affected. It’s all of us.

“Yes, so far it’s only been my family, but there’s got to be more.” He stopped in front of her. He’d known Selket for thousands of years and never had he seen such an enraptured look on her face. He quit trying to hide his smile. “They’re here. Now. In this time. I don’t know how, or why, but they’re here.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Ramose knocked on Tamara’s door at the Mena House Hotel promptly at six. He’d made arrangements to have Tamara’s cousin moved to Selket’s home tomorrow. The woman would work discreetly, while Julie slept, to heal her leg. Julie would be in pain until then, but it couldn’t be helped. They couldn’t use Petiri technology to speed the process. Not when he didn’t know if he could trust Tamara, much less her cousin.

Soon, he would have to give her an explanation of what was happening. Her knowledge of the
Erosewyt
was unnerving. She thought it was all from his past life, which meant she couldn’t have dreamed of him before his arrival on earth. If she had, she’d marked it off to strange imaginings of her own.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

When Tamara opened her door, his heart skipped a beat. She was pure beauty. His slow appreciative gaze trailed from the toes of her delicate golden sandals upward, taking in the feminine slope of her ankle and calf. His breath shuffled in and out of his lungs, but it did nothing to calm the sudden lightheadedness swirling around his brain. He’d tried to ignore her beauty when they’d met, and, knowing she was meant for him, was his, he couldn’t ignore her any longer. He stared at the floor, almost afraid to look into her eyes, afraid she’d knock him off his feet. Such beautiful ankles. How had he missed her beautiful legs? He dragged his gaze upward, past the soft curtain of emerald draping her body in its satin caresses. The delicate fabric cupped the curves of her breasts the way his fingers burned to do. He tore his eyes upward and found her gold and blue eyes glittering with heat.
Nanik Sit hemet
.

“I’m sorry? What did you say?” Tamara raised an eyebrow.

“Oh.” He must have spoken aloud without meaning to. Or had she taken the words from his mind? “There are no English words.”

The blood sang in his veins as she stepped back, allowing him entrance to her room. A room filled with a queen-size bed. He tried not to look, fighting to ignore the image of her spreading out for him while he stripped that beautiful, green satin from her body. It was damned hard. He was damned hard.

“One minute, I’ll get my purse.”

Ramose nodded, the dryness in his throat stealing his ability to speak. Her steps were so controlled, so sensual. Watching her hurt. This was his
Kha-Ib
. He’d thought her beautiful in jeans, but now, she rivaled Isis herself.

And her scent. The gods of Egypt couldn’t possibly have smelled this wonderful. Spicy and sensual. The smell of lilies ripped the last vestiges of his control. A deep rolling sound rumbled from his chest.

She picked up her purse then cocked her head, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over. “Are you all right, Ramose?”

“Fine,” he croaked. The separation was too much. His brain muddied, and he stepped toward her, his hands curving around her waist, drawing her against him, her body soft and pliant. “I have to…”
Gods, please don’t be frightened.

He sighed with relief when she melted against him, the curve of her belly pressing against the sudden rise of heat in his groin.

He stilled, his head partially lowered, offering. Hoping. He was not going to make a mistake this time. Reaching for every ounce of control he possessed, Ramose forced his fingers to remain relaxed. They itched to caress her wide hips, hungered to drag her hard against his body.
Blissful torture
. No matter how difficult, he would give, not take.

She peered up into his eyes, the blue and gold hues washing before him like soft liquid. She rose on her toes, closing the distance. The first feather-light touch of her lips, a drug. The sweetest of ambrosias.

Nanik
.

The word didn’t whisper any longer. It reverberated through his mind, pounding its possessive power through his soul. He groaned against her mouth, hungry, needing more, so afraid of terrifying this beautiful woman that was his.

* * * *

Tamara relished the sensation of his lips. Soft and gentle, they burned across hers, awakening the hunger she kept trying to push away. More. She needed so much more. Hunger ripped through her. She ached for his touch. Craved his taste. She opened her fingers, and the bag in her hand dropped to the floor. How could he be so calm?

Her hands cupped his face, pressing her mouth against his, opening. Tasting. His tongue slipped inside, and she moaned with satisfaction. Wild as a desert storm, hot as the desert sun, powerful as the flooding Nile, his taste swept inside her.

Power rippled between them. Power he held in check. She ached for him to release it, to take what she offered. Still, he held back.

A low rumble sounded in his chest, and he lifted his head. His eyes veiled beneath heavy lashes, but his breath was even, his chest not moving.

“Did you just growl at me?”

That got a response. His lids flew open, his eyes wide with surprise. “I... No, I just…”

Tamara grinned and extricated herself from his gentle grasp and adjusted her dress. The satin offered no protection against prying eyes, and she knew her nipples gave away the aching need ringing in her veins.

A quick glance toward Ramose, and she nearly growled herself. He looked completely cool, unaffected. Damn the stupid dreams. They led her down a path much faster than she was ready to take things. It might have been easier had she not already known they were soul mates. It didn’t make everything perfect, but it certainly seemed to free something inside her. The knowledge played havoc on her ability to keep her thoughts clear.

Ramose bent down and retrieved her purse. When he held out his hand, Tamara could swear she saw a tremble before he closed his fist over the bag. Maybe he wasn’t so unaffected after all.

“Thanks,” she murmured, smothering the smile.

Neither spoke all the way to the hotel foyer, as guests filtered around them in the elevator. Ramose stood, his eyes straight ahead, appearing not to notice the men and women surrounding them. Damn, what was he thinking? His aura was gone. As though no heat or emotions emanated from him. How did that happen? Ever since she woke up this morning, she’d been clueless as to his mood.

She released a pent up sigh.

“What’s wrong?” he queried.

Throwing him a wry grin, she shook her head. “Nothing. I just think I need to get my eyes checked.”

“Oh?” was his only response. Was that amusement in his eyes? How was she supposed to know what he was feeling without the auras around him?

“I seem to have lost some of my color vision.”

Jakkar, the ever-present, ever-professional driver, met them in front of the hotel. He held the door of the BMW open for her then smiled and tipped his hat as she slid into the back seat. Ramose followed quickly, and Jakkar pulled away from the curb.

“I will have your cousin picked up by ambulance tomorrow morning. She will stay at Selket’s bungalow until she is healed.”

Selket
. Tamara fought off the sudden wave of jealousy. A name from her dreams, a name from Ramose’s past lives. Why this sudden possessiveness? “Who is Selket?”

“A friend. She is a medical researcher, so she is a good person to care for Julie. Her home is a single level, so there will be no need to manage stairs, which is better than I can offer her at my apartment or our main house.”

“Main home?” she asked.

“Yes, our people keep a residence outside of Cairo, in case anyone needs it. But it’s large and has many stairs. I didn’t think Julie would be comfortable.”

Tamara nodded. “Thank you.” And she meant it. “I really do appreciate your help with her. It’s bad enough to get hurt while on vacation, but to be confined to a hospital, that’s got to suck.”

A soft curve played upon his lips. Such luscious lips. Why wasn’t he kissing her with them? Oh, right. Julie. Dinner. Both good reasons to behave, but her body ached with a passion she didn’t even come close to understanding. Was this what Julie felt when Jeff was near? If so, she was sorry she’d ever teased her cousin about kissing in front of her. “So, where are we going?”

“A place called Abou El Sid. It’s a time-honored establishment with an old story behind it.”

“Really? What kind of story?”

“It is named for a man whose food was so prized the sultan wanted him for his own personal cook. The man refused, saying he wished to spend time with his family and enjoyed having his own place. The sultan imprisoned him for the rest of his life. It is his recipes which are served.”

“What a horrible story!”

“Times have changed, but Egypt was not always such an advanced culture. Surely your own country has stories like this in its history.”

“Maybe.” Tamara thought about it. “Well, maybe not. I don’t think anyone in America was ever put in prison because he wanted to cook at home. Though I see your point.” Still, the idea of lifetime incarceration for such a simple reason gave her the creeps.

“But,
Kha-Ib
, at least he lives on, through his restaurant. While it’s true he suffered greatly, this is a fine tribute to his work and past glory. Just wait until you see it. It is a wonderful place.”

Tamara looked at Ramose skeptically, but nodded. “Okay, but it better be good. That poor man!”

Jakkar dropped them as close to the entrance as possible, and, once they were out of the car, Ramose took her hand in his. A light chill passed over her fingers before his heat invaded her every pore.

They passed from one world to a totally different one once inside the restaurant. For a moment, she thought they’d stepped back in time, into a world where Arabian Nights ruled. Muted shades of gold, red, blue, and green greeted her. Small booths tucked into cubbies offered privacy to the diners, while others included Egyptian settees and chairs. Pillows scattered across the chairs offered comfort and filled her soul with what felt like an ancient aura.

A man hurried toward them, dressed in full Egyptian regalia. His white, blue-trimmed tunic whisked around bare ankles, giving way to worn leather sandals. His gnarled hand gripped Ramose’s with what appeared to be firm strength and pumped vigorously, his gray hair flying as he nodded and grinned.