Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) (30 page)

Chapter Thirty

“Ramose, there’s something I have to tell you,” said Tamara, folding her arms and moving toward the dresser. The bedroom given them by Selket overlooked the city, and Tamara stared out at the city lights, searching for the right words.

She didn’t have to turn to know he was behind her. His presence, large and masculine, radiated across the heated desert air, caressing her flesh even before he touched her arms, stroking the flesh with his large, cool palms. That’s one of the things she liked about him. He wasn’t too hot. No matter how erotic things got between them, he didn’t turn too hot for her to tolerate. Instead, his skin emitted a light, cool energy which she hungered.

“What is it,
Kha-Ib
?” he asked. His cool breath feathered across her hair, teasing her flesh with the light icy breeze. The tremor running through her flesh had nothing to do with the cold.

“Julie,” she forced the words out when all she wanted to do was turn and take him in her arms, to feel how alive he was now. To relish every moment they had together. “She had a vision. Well, we had a vision together. About you.”

Ramose’s arms circled her shoulders, and he pulled her back against his hard chest. His breath teased her ear, his teeth nibbling the lobe. Tamara tilted her head to the side, basking in his touch. The words caught in her throat, silencing her.

“And?” he prompted, his voice low and husky.

“And you died.” Damn. She didn’t mean it to come out like that.

Ramose stilled behind her.

“You went into an underground tomb or cavern or something. There was a statue of Aphophis. The one with the snake for a head? And Amunkha used his magick to send Aphophis’s spear at you, and it struck you in the heart.” The words rushed out, even as tears stung her eyes.

“And you saw this?” he asked, his body once again caressing hers, wrapped about her as though she was a delicate possession.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I shared the vision with her. It’s something she and I can do together. I touch her, and…and I can see what she sees.”

He turned her to face him, his eyes searching hers. His cool thumb brushed away the hot tears coursing down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

“Tamara, look at me.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see what he thought of this vision. Too many times she’d had people blow off her cousin’s visions, just like they blew off her ability to sense evil.

“Tamara,” he commanded.

She opened her eyes.

“I’ve already been to that place. I saw the statue you mentioned. It’s where we found Darius. So I’m safe.”

“No,” she whispered. “You didn’t take me with you tonight, but, in the vision, I was with you.”

He sighed and folded her into his arms. For a moment, she let his comfort seep inside. In his arms, it was as though all was right in the world. So comforting. So protective. If only the comfort he offered would last forever.

“Now that we know, all we have to do is avoid it. You understand that, don’t you?”

She shook her head and tried to pull from his arms, but he held on, his grip gentle, but firm.

“I know to be careful. That’s all I have to do, right? Avoid the spear? That changes everything you saw and changes the future.”

“But—”

“No but’s. What did you think? That I wouldn’t believe you?”

She shrugged. “No one ever does.” She slid her eyes to the side, not wanting to see the sympathy or disbelief.

He touched her chin, tipping her face toward his, to meet his steady regard. “I am not everyone else. Always know I will never doubt you.”

She nodded and studied his gaze. No sympathy. No disbelief. What she saw instead was trust. He was right. He wasn’t like everyone else she’d met. He had his own talents that no one else shared, and a completely different viewpoint. Of course, he believed her. She’d been a fool, worrying about nothing. She gave him a small smile.

“Good,” he said.

Her fingers traced the small crescent tattoo on his face. It always moved when he smile, giving him a ‘devil may care’ look. “What is this?”

He shrugged. “Just a mark. Similar to an ancient tribal mark. Does it bother you?”

She grinned and shook her head, her nail gently tracing the moon-shaped image. “Not at all. In fact, it’s very sexy.”

His lips curved into a crooked grin, and again, the tiny mark raised, adding to the glitter in his eyes. “Good. I’d hate to have it removed. It would leave a scar.” He pulled away from her and unzipped the small black leather sport bag he’d brought with him from his trip. He seemed on edge. Not like he was when danger surrounded them, but more as if he was uncomfortable with her.

Her nerves jangled as he reached into the bag.

“Now that we have everything settled, I have something for you.” He drew out a small blue velvet box.

“A gift?” she asked in surprise, her concerns forgotten. Pleasure warmed her insides, as if she wasn’t warm enough just having Ramose in the room. The small blue box resembled a jewelry box, only the shape was more rectangular than square.

She popped open the snap and drew back the velvet lid. An exotic scent rolled through the air from a small crystal bottle filled with a light golden liquid.

“Perfume?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you like my natural scent.”

“Not perfume,” he said, taking a step closer. “A blend of essential oils. This bottle is for your bath, to help you relax.”

“Oh, right,” she smiled. “Thank you.” She moved to place it on the dresser when she his hand stayed her.

“No, use it now…for me.” The tone of his voice drew her, and she turned.

“Now? You want me to take a bath now?”

He nodded, his face solemn.

“Did you know the ancient Egyptians were so enamored of essential oils and their effects it had its own god?”

She shook her head.

“His name is Nefertem. For good health and to worship him, the Egyptians were taught to have a bath and a massage every day.”

“So…” She frowned, confused. “You want me to take a bath?”

He moved another step closer and dipped his head to hers, his breath a whisper against her lips. “Not just a bath, an experience.” His eyes twinkled. “If I could offer you the bathing rooms of Ancient Egypt, I would, but, for now, you will have to do with Selket’s tub.” He touched his lips to hers, light, teasing. Provocative. “Add this to the water, and, while you bathe, relax and breathe in the fragrance. It is blended special for you and only you.”

Tamara stared into his eyes. She still didn’t know what he was doing, but she liked it. A man taking care of her? And not even ashamed to do so when at another’s home. She smiled. It was nice to see a man willing to take care of her, no matter where they were. Ramose did so without batting an eye.

Her gaze dropped to his lips. So cool, so inviting. She closed the gap.

His kiss was restrained, yet beneath she could sense the power he withheld, the hunger buried beneath that layer of control. What would it be like to see him lose that layer of control? She shivered, both excited and fearful at the possibility.

When he folded her into his arms, pressing her against the hard planes of muscle, her body melted, molding to his, hungry for his touch. The taste of wild desert storms whirled through her senses, dulling her mind until all that remained was Ramose. When he lifted his head, she fought back the whimper of disappointment.

“And just what are you going to be doing during this bath?”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. He tapped her nose. “Waiting right here for you.” He cupped her face and touched his lips to hers one last time before dropping his hands to his side and stepping back.

This had to be the strangest thing anyone had done for her, yet somehow also the sweetest.

“Just a bath?”

“Just a bath,” he agreed. “I would give you attendants to bathe you and relax you if I could, but…” He shrugged.

She opened the bottle and sniffed the aroma from the golden liquid inside. Strong, but not overwhelming. Sexy, yet with the innocence of cucumber and the girlishness of watermelon. She couldn’t fight back the smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

“All right,” she said at last, giving a nod. “I’ll go take a bath. And you, I want you to relax as well.”

“Your wish,” he said, offering her a bow with a grin, “is my command.”

As Tamara moved into the bathroom, Ramose added, “Take your time. Enjoy the fragrance and let it wash over you. Let it heal your aches and ease your tired muscles. Allow Nefertem’s teachings to heal your body,” he said. And, as she closed the door, he added, “And your soul.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Tamara stepped into the darkened bedroom, her body still warm and relaxed from the bath Ramose had been so determined she take. A towel draped about her body, hiding very little. She’d been so surprised at Ramose’s gift she hadn’t even brought a change of clothes or a robe inside with her. Instead, she’d lost herself in the sensual scent he’d gifted her, letting it overtake her mind and body, just like he’d asked. Her limbs were loose and free, her body warm and silky smooth. Heat coiled low in her belly, hungry for Ramose’s touch.

She wished she had sexy lingerie, wanting to ensure he saw her only as a woman, and not as the
Axriad
he’d claimed her to be when they met.

Candles flickered all around the otherwise sparse bedroom. She didn’t need to search for Ramose. His essence pulled at her from the shadows, dragging her hidden desires to the surface. In the dark, she couldn’t see his eyes, yet she knew they watched her move toward him, caressing every curve of her body with his gaze. She gripped the towel like a lifeline, guarding her from the one thing she desired most. Ramose.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, basking in the energy rolling between them. It encircled her, wrapping her in the power he wore like cologne, in the hunger he emanated. Her own body burned, starved for the touch his gaze promised.

There was no room for the
Axriad
he’d once called her. Everything about him radiated masculine hunger. She inhaled, searching for his scent, instead finding only the sensuous mix of fragrances as the bath oil.

“Where did you get that fragrance?” she asked. Her voice was low and, if she did say so herself, sexy.

He cleared his throat. “Aromatherapy essences. Just like the bath oil, I blended these just for you. It’s the scientist in me.” Soft laughter purred in his voice.

He stood, taking a single step into the light. His bare, bronzed chest glowed in the flicker of candlelight, defining every ridge and hollow of muscle across his body. She let her gaze trail downward, an appreciative smile on her lips. Downward, the well-defined stomach. Damn, he was sexy. His skin glistened with soft shimmering moisture in the muted light. She knew he didn’t get hot like most men, the cold which clung so close to his body kept him comfortable. No, he’d used oil himself. The thought of the sensual slide of two bodies together sent a shockwave of hunger down her body, settling in her loins.

Gold glittered along his narrow hips, and her eyes widened as she dropped her gaze even further. He wasn’t wearing shorts like she’d expected. And he wasn’t a brief’s man either. Instead, he wore a linen Egyptian kilt, held together with a golden belt, its buckle a replica of the
Napshua
he wore upon his arm. The white folds of the pleated cloth hung to mid-thigh, exposing his long, powerful legs to her view. She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The sensual heat burning in her blood coiled deep in her stomach, building from the inside out.

Tamara raised her gaze to meet his. Dark, green eyes looked back at her, burning with hunger.

“Come here.” The words were soft, but the command clear.

Refusing wasn’t an option. Her body moved without her telling her muscles to obey. His gaze held her, teased her, and intensified the hunger burning in her body. As she drew near, he hooked an arm about her waist, yanking her against his cool, hard body. She gasped, shocked, yet pleased. She shouldn’t be. She should be afraid of him when he grew aggressive, yet nothing he did frightened her.

“Stop it,” he demanded. “Stop it, right now.”

She frowned. “Stop what?”

“Stop comparing. I see it in your eyes, the flash of pain, the moment when your mind begins to work. I know what happened to you.”

When she moved to speak, he silenced her with a finger against her lips.

“You did nothing wrong. When I find the bastard, he’ll pay for what he has done. He will die. I won’t have you thinking of what he did when I’m touching you.”

“But I—”

“Can’t help it?” he asked. His face grew hard, but his eyes still burned with emotion and desire. “You can, Tamara. And I’ll help you. Last night you gave me everything I ever desired. My every fantasy came to life before my eyes. Every fantasy but one.”

Tamara’s heart felt like it was doing somersaults in her chest, pounding hard with arousal, excitement, and even a little fear. This wasn’t the Ramose of her dreams, despite the white linen he wore. No, this was a different man. One more powerful, more demanding, and one who wanted her.

“All but one?” she asked, her voice breathless.

He brushed his lips against hers then whispered in her ear. “All but the one where my woman is lost in pleasure, where she screams for me, begs for me. You will, today,
Kha-Ib
. I will hear you call out my name as you come.”

Tamara gulped hard. His breath feathered across her face, shooting bolts of pleasure down her spine with every word. Her knees buckled until only his arms held her upright.

“I will?” Her voice was a breathy whisper, her mind unable to fathom the promise he’d given.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured. “I told you last night you will crave my touch before I am through.”

He brushed his lips against hers. At last, he drew close enough so the heavy scent of candles didn’t interfere. Tamara inhaled, savoring the hot, wild spice of his scent. It rolled inside her, swirling the already ignited heat buried deep in her core. Lust exploded, searing her to her core. A soft moan whispered from her throat unchecked.