Stolen Heat by Elisabeth Naughton Page B

was grade-A prime-cut beef and he was dying to sink his teeth in her.
    Heat rushed to her cheeks. She eased her hands under the damask tablecloth and wiped her sweaty palms on her black slacks like she’d done several times during the meal.
    He really was gorgeous—all blond and tan and sexy in that white dress shirt and those charcoal slacks. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and those hips? Perfection. He was also so totally focused on her she wasn’t entirely sure he was real. She’d been wary at first, careful not to divulge too much about her work site just in case he was one of those treasure hunters the crew had warned her about, but he’d barely seemed interested in her dig. And a big part of her was relieved. She really didn’t want to get into the scandal surrounding her site and the artifacts that had been slowly disappearing the last few months. Instead he’d steered the conversation to her months in Cairo, her interests, what she did in her free time and what she wanted to do with her life.
    And that was what really did her in. No one had ever seemed so genuinely interested in her before. Especially not an Adonis like him.
    At some point she realized she needed to open her mouth and say something intellectual so she’d stop focusing on that sexy dimple in his cheek and the subtle curve of his lips. He’d been doing most of the talking, and it wasn’t going to take him long to figure out she was practically drooling. So she picked the one topic she knewwould get her mind off hot, sticky, sweaty sex and what he looked like underneath those fancy clothes.
    And regretted it minutes later when he only stared at her without responding.
    “I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Kat reached for her wineglass. “Not everyone’s as excited about Egyptian history as I am. Sorry.”
    Pete chuckled, the sound so deep and rich, she was sure she felt the vibrations all the way across the table and into her toes. “You’re not boring me at all. I could listen to you talk all night long.”
    She frowned, knowing he was simply playing her, and told herself not to read too much into his words. But when his grin widened and those damn eyes of his sparked, held on hers and dropped to her mouth, she wasn’t so sure anymore. There was definitely something happening between them. Something sultry and electric she’d never felt before. And damn if it didn’t excite and scare her to death all at the same time.
    The waiter brought his receipt then. Pete signed the slip of paper and pushed his chair back. “Are you ready?”
    “Yes.” Happy for the distraction, she grabbed her purse, slipped the strap over her bare shoulder and headed toward the front of the restaurant.
    Outside the air was balmy, with a slight breeze blowing off the water. Beside her, Pete tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks and gestured with his shoulder. “You want to walk for a bit?”
    She was more relieved than she wanted to admit. Walking meant she’d get to spend more time with him before they said good night. “Yes. I’d love to.”
    They strolled the streets of downtown Cairo and talked about sports and politics and what it was like to be an American living and working abroad. Eventually they ended up along the banks of the Nile where lights fromhigh-rise office buildings shimmered over the water, contrasting with mud-brick houses and donkey-drawn carts.
    Cairo wasn’t a gentle city. It overwhelmed the senses with its noise and chaos, pollution and sixteen million people. But Kat loved it. Sure, there was too much of everything here—too much progress, too much history, too many dangers lurking if you weren’t careful—but it was a magical place. Never more so than it was this night.
    It was close to an hour later when they finally made their way to her flat. The building was in an older neighborhood, but well-kept and safely lit.
    “This is me,” she said as they slowed near the front entrance and the five steps that