“Rowan?”

“Eh?”

She waggled the menu at him. “Lunch?”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat a second time, and said only slightly hoarsely, “The steak will do nicely for me.”

“Meat eater, eh?” She flashed him an irrepressible smile that almost immediately faded to nothing. “I try to stick to a vegetarian diet, but then I cave to temptation, like last night.”

He was tired, that was all. Overly tired, and stressed, and unhappy over being involved in this unpleasant job, and that’s the reason why the time he’d spent with Sophea the night before had blown up in his mind to an event the likes of which he’d never experienced.

“Those sausages were something, weren’t they?”

And now you’re lying to yourself, his quiet inner voice said with a disappointed tsk. Just admit it—she has a body that fits you perfectly, a naiveté that makes you want to protect her from the evils of the world, and a quirky mind that exactly suits your own warped sense of humor. You fancy her, mate, pure and simple. So tell her, already, and be happy for a change.

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, but evidently not softly enough, because Sophea tossed a startled look his way.

“Pardon?”

“Sorry, it was nothing. Just me talking to myself.”

Her nose scrunched in that delightful manner she had. “I thought you were referring to my sausage double entendre. Do you often tell yourself to shut up?”

“I do when my mind is being obnoxious. If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll go wash my hands before we eat.”

He used the few minutes of privacy in the bathroom to get his errant mind (and related body parts) under control. The face that stared out of the mirror at him bore obvious signs of strain—there were silver threads starting to show up in his hair, his cheeks had a gaunt look that he hadn’t noticed before, and lines that he hadn’t remembered had suddenly sprouted at the edges of both eyes.

“You look like hell,” he told his reflection. “No woman in her right mind would consider you as a viable sexual partner, let alone someone to spend any length of time with. Get the job done and go back to Sao Pedro where the only thing you have to worry about is interfering tourists.”

His inner voice had some things to say about that, but he ignored them, instead focusing his intentions on talking Sophea out of taking the cruise. He had a horrible feeling she was misinterpreting his desire to keep her safe, but he would simply straighten that out later, once he knew she was removed from any danger.

“—well and fine, but don’t know what I’m going to do about clothes. I mean, this cruise is for a week, and I only packed two days’ worth of clothes,” Sophea was saying when he exited the bathroom. “And I don’t have much money to buy more.”

“Cruises always call for lots of clothing,” Rowan said, nodding sagely just as if he knew what he was talking about. Which he didn’t—he’d never been on a cruise in his life. “Far better to save your money for other things, don’t you think?”

“I’m a pretty thrifty person, so I tend to agree,” Sophea said slowly. “But… the thought of a free cruise is awfully hard to turn down.”

“There’s the souk,” Mrs. P said, stuffing some pens and hotel paper into her bag. “Clothing can be had there for a few coppers.”

“The bazaar?” Sophea pursed her lips in thought. It just made him want to kiss her. “I doubt if things are that cheap, although I did read that people here expect you to bargain for things. I wonder…”

“I wouldn’t risk it,” he said, nodding toward the clock. “You wouldn’t have time to get to the bazaar district, shop, and get back for the sailing.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she said, biting her lower lip. “We’re all supposed to go see the pyramids anyway. Although I suppose we could souk it up after that, if there’s time.”

He had to look away, lest a lascivious expression give away his memories about nibbling on that delicious pink lip.

“My beau will reward you once I am returned to him,” Mrs. P said, tucking the cordless phone into her sizeable purse, along with an ashtray and the mints from Sophea’s pillow. “Stop blathering and get me some tea.”

“Well…” Sophea looked him full in the eyes. “What do you think I should do?”

Go home, he ordered his mouth to say. The words were on the tip of his tongue when he opened his mouth, but somehow what came out ended up being, “Take the cruise, of course. Mrs. P says she needs you.”

“You’re right,” she said with an oddly unsure look at him. “It would be stupid to look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Sorry, Mrs. P, I didn’t mean to call you a horse. But you’re both right—I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t take this opportunity. Stop waffling and take the bull by the balls, the matron at the orphanage used to say, and that’s just what I’m going to do. If we don’t have time to go to the bazaar after the pyramid tour, then I’ll just buy some clothes at the villages we’re sure to stop by. Well! This is exciting, isn’t it? Rather than being sad because I’m going to be leaving you, we’re all setting off on an exciting adventure. Together.”

She put an emphasis on the word that baffled him—was she implying she was looking forward to more rendezvous as they had the night before, or was she hinting at something else? And if it was the former, why did she have a glum air about her?

Sophea rose at the sound of a knock and waited silently while a waiter delivered their food.

He stared dumbly at the plate set before him, his mind alternating between berating himself and fighting the desire to grab Sophea and kiss her like he’d had the night before. What had he been thinking, telling her to join them?

Well, he’d just have to work doubly hard to make sure that she was not put in harm’s way if the demons should return—and despite Gabriel’s optimistic outlook, he had little doubt that they’d not seen the last of them.

In the end, he ate his food, letting Sophea run the conversation, answering only when she asked him a direct question.

“You look tired,” she said as they finished the meal. “Why don’t you go take a nap for a couple of hours rather than go with Akbar to see the pyramids? Unless you really want to see them, that is.”