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by Jean Adams
Category: Romance/Historical Fiction
Description: She found the love of her life 3000 years too late. When Alexandra Kelly returns a broadcollar to Egypt, she is swept through a time portal on a breathtaking yet terrifying journey to a land of majesty and splendour, the land of pharaohs. Death is Lord Khafra's fate if he embarks upon his dangerous quest. Can Alex's arrival save him from his date with a lonely, fiery death? Together they find love and face terrible danger and hardship but the sexy charioteer could make any woman believe the gods were smiling on her. At the next full moon Alex must return to the 21st century, where Khafra has been dead for several millennia.
eBook Publisher: Highland Press/Excalibur, 2009 2009
eBookwise Release Date: November 2009
3 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [418 KB]
Reading time: 269-377 min.
Alex moaned. Her head thumped without mercy. Heck, it hurt like hell. She reached up and gently fingered the bandage. So the two robbers had bashed her and now she was in hospital. How she wished the nurse would turn out the bright light shining in her eyes.
She touched her hand to her throat. Of course the collar was gone--she didn't care. She'd been lucky to get away with her life. Never again would she do anything so downright reckless. In future, she would listen to Brian.
"Nurse, will you kill that damned light? Please!" Nothing happened.
Pity about the hunk in the chariot though. Hunk? Chariot? Wait a minute. Didn't I take a chariot ride with that gorgeous Egyptian
Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but it was a vivid dream.
Hey! Didn't I get thrown from that chariot? There's only one way to find out. A quick reality check will clear this up right now. Open your eyes.
What if I don't like what I see? Open your eyes, idiot.
Not with that light shining in them
Then roll over. She turned onto her side, gingerly lifted her eyelids, and gaped. "Holy cow!" She was in a colorful room that looked nothing like a hospital ward and the light shining in her eyes was the sun. Slowly, her gaze focused to scan the room.
The vibrant colors stunned, yet soothed, her jangled nerves. Friezes of red, blue, green, and yellow symmetrical patterns surrounded the room. On one wall was a scene of a man, a charioteer, hunting lion. On another, the same man water fowling--on yet another he reclined, enjoying the fruits of an orchard and a vineyard. Her senses homed in closer. She was on a bed, which appeared to be made of polished wood and gilded. Chairs with legs shaped like lion's paws, tables, and gilded chests, all inlaid with what looked like semi-precious stones and ebony, were scattered about the large room. Where in heck was she?
The sound of breathing filtered through to her consciousness, sending her rigid with fear. She tried desperately to dismiss the thoughts racing through her mind.
"I'm asleep and I'm having a crazy, mixed-up dream. When I wake up, I'll be in the Ramses Hotel. Or the local hospital. Tomorrow, I'm meeting with John, my director, and the script-writer to discuss script changes."
Shut up, Alex. You're babbling. But what about when the wheel smashed into a rock and I was thrown out and hit my head? When . . .
Her stomach tightened--her heart raced and she reached up to touch her head. The bandage was still there, the one that went with the pain.
Alex turned over and confirmed her worst fears. A man lay beside her. His eyes were closed; long dark lashes fanned his cheek. He breathed easily.
Muscles! Then he was real. And he was in her bed. She had a good mind to call reception and ... And what? There was no reception. There was no Ramses Hotel. And this was no dream. She really had been transported back to ancient Egypt.
The hunk shifted. Think, Alex. Try to think things through slowly and logically. She tried not to wake the sleeping man. What would he do when he woke up? Had he touched her while she'd been unconscious?
She lay quietly, afraid to move in case she disturbed him. I was in the Temple of Thoth, and I fell through a rock, or something that seemed like a rock.
Still her mind tried to deny it. She had been on a film set, hadn't she? They could do amazing tricks with scenery these days. But this room was no film set.
Her memory could see only Muscles and a team of shiny black horses, even as logic tried to reject the images. Like an idiot, she had climbed into his chariot. He'd gotten in beside her and driven off. The horses bolted. He struggled to control them, the wheel cracked, and the last thing she remembered was being thrown out and the desert coming up to meet her--fast.
So where in heaven's name was she? One thing was sure he was no ordinary thief. The bandage felt like a professional job.
She reached out to verify he wasn't a figment of her concussed imagination. Gently touching the top of his arm just above a deep gold armband, she whipped her hand back as though scalded. He was real all right.
Oh my. She'd been right to call him Muscles. From his large biceps and strong forearms to his thickly muscled chest. Whew! Tight six pack. His wide shoulders looked very red, as though burned. He wore nothing but a piece of linen tied around his waist like a towel.
Nah! This had to be a joke. Somehow the film crew was playing an elaborate trick on her.
Her stomach growled. "Heck, I haven't eaten since--" she couldn't suppress a smile--"the 21st century."
She wanted to laugh at her own stupidity. If she told the film crew she'd believed their little scenario, they'd fall about laughing. How could she admit she'd been taken in by it?
Food. She needed food. Surely a refrigerator had to be somewhere. Where there was a film crew, there was always food. She sat up and winced when a thousand drums beat a tattoo inside her head. Ignoring the pain, she eased her legs over the bed and, holding on, placed her feet on the floor.
"Watch out for scorpions," a deep male voice warned from behind.
"Aargh!" She fell back onto the bed and lifted her feet off the ground.
Then the truth hit her.
Muscles had spoken in English.