Mirage by Monica Burns

Author:Monica Burns
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Egypt. Archeology. Archaeology
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The ground shifted beneath her feet as Alex stumbled away from Altair. She could barely keep from throwing up as she struggled to remain upright. He’d lied. He’d been lying to her all along. Why hadn’t he said something in Lord Merrick’s office, on the ship or in Cairo? There had been plenty of opportunities for him to explain who he was.

The late afternoon heat pressed against her, and she tripped over her own feet. Ahead of her was the open flap of her tent. Cool darkness enveloped her as she plunged into the tent, dragging the flap closed behind her. Clinging to the tent’s center pole for support, she swallowed the bile threatening to rise in her throat.

First he’d rejected her, and now this. The pole’s surface gave way slightly as her fingers dug into the wood. He could have told her about his correspondence with her father. She would have trusted him if he’d told her that. Instead, he’d made her think his cousin, the Sheikh el Mazir, was whom Father had been dealing with. Why hadn’t he told her the truth?

She inhaled a sharp breath of angry dismay. Per-Ramesses. He’d lied to cover up the real reason he’d been helping her. He worked for the British Museum, it made sense that they would send him. They could easily say that their representative helped to find the lost city and that she’d assisted. Oh, the bastard. He’d deliberately manipulated her every step of the way. His pretense at the museum regarding her welfare, the way he’d expressed concern for her safety in London, the way he’d arranged for her to board the Moroccan Wind.

A sound of furious disgust broke past her lips. Outside the sun was close to setting, and the light was almost gone in the tent, forcing her to light a lantern. He was despicable. If she were a man, she’d…she’d…challenge him to a fight. Oooh, it would feel so good to pound him with her fists.

Well, she had news for the man. She wasn’t letting him get close to the excavation if she could help it. She’d found Per-Ramesses without his help, and she’d continue the dig without his help. Striding to the makeshift desk set up in one corner of the tent, she sank down into the folding chair and stared at the papers on the small table in front of her.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she angrily brushed it away. It was useless to cry. The man certainly wasn’t worth shedding any tears over. But it hurt. The lies, his rejection, all of it hurt. She wished Jane were here to offer advice or at the very least comfort. If her father had been here, none of this would have happened. Another teardrop landed on her hand. Never had she felt so alone in her life.

With a determined swipe of her hand, she sniffed back her tears. Enough. She wasn’t going to give in to homesickness or anything else, least of all Sheikh Altair Mazir.

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