Night Of No Return. Eileen Wilks
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a jail cell, where she’d served time for passing hot checks.
The woman standing in front of him had a quick smile and a sexy mouth, wide and fluid. Her nose was slightly crooked, and her face was too narrow for real beauty. The clouds of midnight-dark hair that he remembered were pulled back today in a braid that hung halfway down her back.
Her pale-blue eyes, fringed in black, were nothing short of stunning.
“I imagine you’re tired,” she was saying. “The drive from Feiron Oasis isn’t that long, but the last stretch is pretty rough, and Mahmoud’s insistence on driving at night means you haven’t had much sleep. What would you rather have first—breakfast, a nap or a look at the dig?”
You. “All of the above, except for the nap. I don’t need much sleep. But first, maybe you could show me where to put my things until I can get my tent up?”
“Sure.” That mobile mouth turned up in a smile. “I’m glad you brought your own tent. We’re a bit crowded.”
“I’ll be glad to show him around,” DeLaney said eagerly.
“Nope. You need to help unload. Okay, everyone—” Nora waved her hands in a shooing motion “—make like good little worker ants. The faster we get the supplies unloaded and stored, the faster we can get some real work done. Alex, I’ll show you where to set up.”
With a measure of good-natured grumbling, the others headed for the back of the truck. Except for Tim. “So, are you really here on Ibrahim’s behalf,” he asked, “or did your parents send you?”
“Tim!” Nora sounded half-amused, half-appalled. “What’s with you this morning? Have you been eating your own cooking or something?”
“Am I being rude? Sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet.” He spoke to Nora, but he watched Alex.
“For heaven’s sake, then, grab a cup. You can drink it while you help unload.”
“All right, all right. I can take a hint.” The younger man tossed her a salute and moved off to join the rest.
Nora’s clear blue eyes looked puzzled when they met his. “I am sorry about that. It isn’t like Tim to take pot shots at someone else’s professional background. He’s usually so laid-back it’s hard to be sure he’s awake.”
“I’m used to it. With my parents being who they are, I’ve had opportunities that others haven’t.” Not all of those opportunities were part of his public record, of course.
“But it isn’t up to him to question your credentials, is it? This is my dig.” Her faint emphasis on the possessive pronoun suggested she thought there might be some doubt in his mind about that.
“Of course.” Alex had no intention of challenging her authority. “Dr. Ibrahim didn’t send me here to look over your shoulder. I’m here to work, not just to watch.”
She nodded thoughtfully, as if she were considering taking him at his word but hadn’t made up her mind. “We can go into all that later, maybe over breakfast. Right now, why don’t we take care of your things?”
Alex noticed the way Tim kept track of them when Nora showed him where to put up his tent. Definitely jealous, he decided. Was there something going on between Nora and her long, tall assistant?
He didn’t like the quick snap of temper that idea brought.
“This is the guys’ side of camp,” she was saying. “The latrine is on this side, too, about fifteen feet further down the wadi. We’ve got a shower, too. It’s on the other side of the main tent.”
“So the men get the latrine on our side of camp, while you ladies get the shower?”
Her eyes brightened with humor. “It wasn’t intentional. Honest. We situated the shower as close to the well as possible.”
“You have a well, then?”
“It was here before we were, and needed only a pump to be useful. The water is too brackish too drink, but it washes the dust off. That tent is Tim’s,” she said, nodding at the nearest one. “You can probably guess that the goat hair tent belongs to Gamal. He shares with Ahmed.”
“I noticed a small green tent on the other side of the big one.”
“That one’s mine. Lisa and DeLaney bunk in the main tent. They used to have their own, but…” She shrugged. “Someone has decided we’re here to increase their standard of living.”
“It was stolen?”
“I’m afraid so.” A small, worried vee appeared between her brows. “We’ve had a problem with theft.”
Their problem was a lot more serious than she realized, but he couldn’t tell her that. Alex put his folded tent down in the space she’d indicated. “I can put this up later. Why don’t I help unload?” It was best if the others thought of him as one of them, part of the close community that usually formed on a dig. He was aware of a tug of impatience, though. He wanted to get Nora Lowe alone.
“We don’t put our guests to work right away,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like some breakfast first? I can even offer fresh eggs. I saw Lisa carrying some in.”
“Think of me as an extra pair of hands, not as a guest.”
“I do usually throw a crust or two of bread at my workers before I hustle them out to the dig.”
“As appealing as that sounds, I ate before I left Feiron. I’m not hungry yet. How about taking a couple of cups of coffee out to the site? I’d like to get a look at the cave.”
“I wouldn’t mind a cup myself. I usually have some after my run.”
“Is that where you were? I, ah, saw you and Gaines coming into camp about the same time I did.”
“I run most mornings.” She started toward the main tent, where the cookstove was set up. “Partly to stay fit. Partly because I just like to. Tim came to get me this morning when Mahmoud radioed that he was bringing a visitor to camp.”
“Me.”
“Yes.” Her gaze flicked to his and a smile touched those full, unpainted lips. “Though I didn’t know it.”
He wanted to taste that smile. The urge was strong and troubling—and it was shared, he could tell. Their gazes held for another second before she turned away to kneel beside a large plastic box that sat near the stove.
It was the memories, he knew. He’d gotten her tangled up in his mind with nearly dying. After all, Nora Lowe had been the one to find him, to save him. He could sort out his reaction to her objectively, but he couldn’t seem to stop reacting. He wondered how much of a problem that was going to be. When pretense and reality blurred, it was easy to make a misstep. And when a man in his line of work made a misstep, people died.
“You take anything in your coffee? It’s strong,” she warned, taking two mugs out of the box and snapping the lid back on. “Not quite as stiff as the stuff the Bedouin make, but stronger than most Americans are used to.”
“I like it strong. And hot.”
“Good,” she said briskly, standing. “Getting things hot is no problem around here.” If she noticed any innuendo in his words or her own, she didn’t show it.
“Does Gaines run with you?” Or did they go just far enough away from camp to be alone?
“Are you kidding?” She chuckled and handed him his mug. “Tim’s idea of morning exercise is getting out of bed. He thinks I’m crazy.” Again that slightly shy smile flickered. “But that’s how I found you, you know. I was visiting a former professor of mine at a dig near Kibbutz Nir Am, and I’d gone out for my morning run.”
He knew that—now. At the time, he’d thought her appearance a miracle. “Funny. I like to run myself, but I never realized quite how