“No, of course not. Obviously, I misunderstood what my husband said.”
“Yes, clearly, but that is okay. Let me show you a vase. I think you will like it.”
She tried to get away gracefully, but had to admire a set of matching vases and stemware before excusing herself with a promise to reconsider the mask. Stepping onto the street again, she blew out a relieved breath, then gave Donovan an apologetic wince. “I’m sorry. I’ll get better at this.”
A smile spread across his deep tan and the dark stubble of beard he’d allowed to grow out. The scruffy growth was a rough, intimidating look, but his obvious joy softened it. “You were awesome.”
The unexpected praise brought a rush of warmth and a sudden desire to kiss him. She had to settle for a grateful, “Thank you.”
“Nothing struck you, huh? Nothing that made you think of Wally’s story or the hostages?”
I’m sorry, I’m not sure what to look for, or if I’ll know it if I see it, but my Spidey senses weren’t tingling.”
“You’ll figure it out. Stop worrying. And don’t be so hard on yourself—these guys are motivated to make a sale. If they have anything remotely close to what you want, they’ll make the offer.”
“But if it’s an illegal artifact, there’s probably a worldwide market for it. I’m not their only buyer.”
“But you and your money are here, right now. Letting you smuggle an artifact out of the country is far less risky than smuggling it out themselves. Believe me, you’re a desirable customer.”
A small pang of regret hit her out of nowhere; she’d rather be a desirable woman in his eyes, but his thoughts didn’t seem to follow hers in that direction. Or if they did, he had them under tight control. That was possible, knowing his discipline, and she supposed it was admirable—she’d been trying to learn to control her thoughts and fears for years. But she kind of liked the glimpse she’d seen of Donovan out of control and ablaze with desire. She wouldn’t mind seeing more of it. For a moment that thought was a pleasant diversion.
“Jess?”
“Hmm? Oh. I guess we try the next shop, huh?”
“If you’re ready.”
More than ready. Secretly amused by her boldness, she bit back a smile and did her best stately, gliding walk to the next shop.
Then the next, and the next. She must have tried the same approach with a dozen merchants. They were moving down the line of stores when someone in the street called out, “Suzanne! Suzanne Hassan. Fancy running into you here.”
The vaguely familiar name made her look up, locating the source of the voice—Avery, dressed in slacks and a silk blouse like the average American tourist. She strode up to them, gold bracelets catching the light and jangling together as she pulled Jess into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming to Egypt.” Close to Jess’s ear, Avery murmured, “I’m a crass acquaintance you’d probably rather not know. Act distant.”
Over Avery’s shoulder she saw Mitch and Kyle approaching, dressed as if they expected to play nine holes of golf. Obvious tourists to anyone watching. She pulled away and smiled tightly at Avery as chattering shoppers detoured around them. “Yes, this is quite a surprise.”
“Donald, honey,” Avery said, pulling Kyle closer. “Suzanne, I’m sure you met my husband and his brother, Paul. Honey, this is Suzanne Hassan, remember? Her husband is one of Bob’s partners on the Dubai project. We met at the Vanderhoffs’ party last spring.”
“Sure, great to see you,” Kyle enthused, sticking out his hand to shake hers. Donovan fended him off by stepping between them with a stern look, staying in character.
Jess wasn’t sure why they’d approached, but did her best to play along, giving them both a polite but cool nod. “Lovely to see you, too. My husband will be sorry to have missed you.”
“Oh, he’s not here?” Avery said. They both looked crushed at the news. “Well, you give him our regards, won’t you, sweetie? Maybe we’ll see you two in New York.” Avery hugged her again, air-kissing both cheeks, as Jess stiffened appropriately.
“Might have a lead,” Avery whispered. “Check out the shop around the corner from the entrance to the souk. Yellow awnings.” She backed away, repeating her good-byes loudly as they blended into the crowd.
Donovan lowered his head close to hers and spoke quietly. “What did she say?”
“They have a lead. A shop outside the souk,” she began, then stopped as a prickly sensation raced across the back of her neck and she realized two large men had stepped close to them. Too close. She blinked in surprise at their uniforms—Egyptian policemen.