Chapter Eight
I should have expected him to want to sleep with me. He was a man after all, with an apparently healthy appetite, but I hadn’t expected him to come right out and say it so early in our relationship. I hoped he wouldn’t push things, or worse yet, brush me off when I said no.
I shook my head. “Look, I don’t know how things are done here, but no way am I sleeping with you.” I looked around, hoping the waitress hadn’t heard. He was rushing things. And here I thought he respected me. “We don’t know each other that well yet. Please make it two rooms.” Would he still take me to see the pyramids? I hoped so. I wanted to see them with him.
“I just thought it was time you and I got together.”
I faced him. “For the record. I don’t believe in casual sex. I have to really care about a guy and feel close to him before I’d even consider sharing a bed with him.”
“I can respect that, but I thought….”
“Thought what, that I’d be an easy lay?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’d just enjoy being close to you.” He lowered his voice. “I want be able to touch your soft skin everywhere.”
“I do enjoy being with you, but please, change the reservation to two rooms or I won’t go.”
“All right, if you insist.” He checked his watch and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to be late to practice. I need to call the manager.” He turned to Ernesto. “Can you change the reservations for me?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll attend to it.” He pulled out his phone and dialed.
I glanced at the bill. Mario laid enough on the table to pay it and a generous tip beside. He rose. “Shall we go?”
“Will you get in trouble for being late?”
“I won’t be making a good impression on the owner if he sees me come in late.”
Ernesto nodded. “He’s the one you need to impress.”
Outside, the air was warm as we walked past a tree with hanging yellow blossoms. It reminded me of Wisteria. “What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a golden rain tree. They grow all over Europe.”
We headed back to his car. I was still waiting for him to start acting cold, but I couldn’t detect any difference in his manner. In his Ferrari, he held my hand except when he needed to use it to steer. It made me feel good. He stopped the car in front of some stores. I opened the door and was about to get out when he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him for a sweet kiss. It was delicious, more so than any chocolate croissant.
Still remembering the feel of his lips on mine, I spent the morning browsing through a craft shop and a bookstore. I bought a straw hat to shade my face from the sun while we viewed the pyramids tomorrow. I hoped he was still planning to take me there. I ate lunch at the coffee shop. I couldn’t resist having another chocolate croissant along with my tomato bisque soup.
That afternoon, I Googled the history of the pyramids and made some notes. I could hardly wait until we left tomorrow. Had that teapot I’d seen been sold? It was so cute, it spoke to me, so I had to go by the shop and check if it was still there. I hurried to the shop where I’d seen the painted teapot in the window. Luckily, it was still there.
As I walked inside, a little bell tinkled. The shop smelled of cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and incense. Behind a glass-enclosed counter, cinnamon rolls and muffins sat. Off to one side on a small table faint smoke rose from an incense burner. I couldn’t see a clerk, so I said, “Hello? Anyone here?”
No one answered. I picked up the teapot, took it to the counter, and turned it over to see the price. Fifty euros. I gasped but knew Stephanie would love it. I pulled out my credit card and tapped my foot.
A short woman with gray hair and glasses rushed out from a door. “What are you doing with that teapot. It belongs in window display.” She glared at me. “Hand it over before you damage it.”
Frowning, I held it out. “I want to buy it.”
She shook her head. “No. No. It is part of the display. I do not have time to set up another one this morning as I am short of help. Imperia is full of tourists, including some famous movie stars. I do not want to make a bad impression on one. Paparazzi are forbidding to take their pictures, but who knows what they might say about my shop in any of those travel magazines.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. I’d probably be sorry, but I had to get this. “What if I pay you fifty-five euros? That’s five more euros that the price marked on it.”
The woman shook her head. “Why not buy something else. I have lots of nice things. Her gaze moved from shelf to shelf. Raising her arm, she pointed to an atrocious clay incense burner. “Why not something like that?”
Now I shook my head. “It’s a gift for a friend of mine. I know she’d love it. She collects teapots.”
“Come back next week. I’ll change the display then.”
“But I’m only here on vacation. I’ll be gone by then.”
“That is too bad. I’m not redoing my display until then.”
I could ask Mario to get it and mail it to me, but that was too much to ask of him. Besides, he might not have time to do it when he had to practice so much. I decided to play nice. “If you change your mind, would you please call me?” I held out a card.
She took it and handed me one for the shop. “You may give me a call the day before you leave, and I’ll let you know if I’ve changed the display.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.” I said, “Goodbye,” and left, frustrated. What right did she have to refuse to sell me something just because it was in the window. I really wanted that teapot. I could call the store manager and complain, but she had acted like she was the manager. There’d be no point. I decided to check the other stores. Maybe I’d find a similar one.
I walked all over Imperia’a retail district, trudged into I don’t know how many craft stores, and didn’t find any teapots near as nice.
That evening, Mario showed up at the door to my hotel room. Ernesto stood in the background. Mario held out a handful of wildflowers. He grinned. “I saw these growing wild in the park nearby. They looked fresh, and the blue ones reminded me of your eyes.”
Smiling, I thanked him and put them in water. He could be spontaneous after all.
“Let me take you out to dinner. There’s this nice little family-run place I know nearby. The food’s home-cooked and very tasty. Would you like to go?”
He was asking instead of telling. Beneath his take-charge manner, he had a gracious side.
The Ferrari stood at the curb, and Ernesto insisted on driving. “After the fire at the guardhouse, we can’t be too careful. Another car with a second bodyguard followed us. At the restaurant, both sat at a nearby table and scrutinized every guest who entered.
As we dined on roast beef, oven-browned potatoes, and buttered artichoke hearts, I told Mario about the teapot. He said he’d visit the shop as soon as we returned and offer the manager enough euros to change her mind.
“You don’t need to do that for me,” I said.
“But, I want to. She won’t dare say no to a member of the royal family.”
“If you do, please let me pay you back.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’ll be glad to do it for you and Stephanie.”
The next morning, I packed a bag and dressed with care. I waited until the desk clerk called and said Mario was waiting for me. Relieved he still wanted my company, I hurried down. Glad to see his smiling face, I walked toward him.
He held out a wrapped package. “You can take this to your room. It’s the teapot you wanted. The shop manager let me buy the teapot. She even wrapped it up, so it would be easy to take with you.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“Why not? It was easy to persuade her to sell it to me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I took the package and hurried up to my room. When I got back down to the lobby, Mario took my hand and led me to his car. Ernesto followed behind us.
Later, as I climbed into his plane, the air was bright and clear. Sunlight sparkled on the waters of the Mediterranean as we flew over it.
Finally, we neared Cairo. Sky scrapers rose amid a cluster of smaller buildings. Houses and other buildings spread over the landscape, occasionally interspersed with pockets of green. As we approached the airport, I marveled at the huge globe-shaped ball with little airplanes suspended around it, but lost sight of it as Mario landed his plane at Terminal I. We climbed down from the plane, and Ernesto led Mario and me through customs. After that, I walked beside Mario to the VIP Lounge. Ernesto walked behind, his head swiveling to assess any possible threat. I had a hard time keeping up with Mario’s rangy stride. No wonder he could run so fast on the field during games.
The VIP Lounge looked grand with its golden chandeliers. “Have a seat,” Mario said. While we sat on the red and green striped chairs, Ernesto got on his phone and confirmed arrangements for a private tour of the pyramids.
Mario gestured toward Ernesto. “He’s already vetted the tour guide, so we should be in good hands.”
I snapped photos of the chairs and the flower arrangement on the glass-topped tables to show my friends back home. I could imagine ambassadors being greeted by important Egyptian government representatives here.
Twenty minutes later, Ernesto led us outside to an empty tour bus. I climbed inside and sat beside Mario. “Are we picking up more passengers later?”
Mario shook his head. “I thought you’d enjoy this more if you had a chance to ask all the questions you wanted without having to wait for others to speak with the guide.”
I gave him a great big smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” He smiled and took my hand. “I thought you’d like that. It’s worth it to see your smile.”
Mario was thoughtful and unbelievably generous, even though I had turned down his invitation to share a room with him. As I stared into his deep brown eyes, I almost wished I was brave or wicked enough to share a room with him. To have sex with him. But I didn’t want to have sex without intimacy. And I just wasn’t ready. I’d done what felt right for me. Besides, he was a handsome prince, and probably would soon have other women hanging around him. I couldn’t see a future for us.
The driver turned to look at us. “I’m a big fan of football and watch all the games I can on TV. Aren’t you Prince Mario, the star of the Monterra team?”
Mario nodded. “We’re playing Germany next.”
The tour guide slid back into his seat and started the bus.
“Mario, did you get in trouble for missing practice the other day?”
“Well, the coach yelled at me. He doesn’t treat me any different from the other players, and I guess I deserved it.”
Ernesto chimed in. “But His Highness worked just as hard at practice as he usually does, so I guess he’s back in favor with the coach.”
I sat beside Mario, and his powerful thighs touched mine, imparting warmth as did his shoulders. That was nice, considering it was only about sixty outside. I found myself wondering if he’d be real warm to sleep next to. Stop thinking like that, I told myself. You don’t want to sleep with a man until you’re sure he thinks you’re special. For all you know, he may have a girl in every port. However, right now, with all the attention he was paying to me, he didn’t seem like that kind of guy.
I smiled. I liked him—a lot. I hoped I wasn’t doomed to fall for him and then find out he’d lost interest.
After the driver parked the bus, he led us to the base of the great pyramid. Wow, it was huge. “How tall is it?” I asked. I wondered if it were taller than the Washington Monument, which I knew to be 555 feet.
The guard pointed to the top. “Khufu’s pyramid was originally 480 feet tall, but with the original casing stones removed and erosion, it is only 455 feet. It was the tallest building in the world until the Lincoln Cathedral was built in 1300 in Lincoln, England.”
“What are casing stones?” I asked. “Are there any left?”
The guide pointed to a few stones at the base of the pyramid. “These were limestone blocks, highly polished and each cut to the exact same slant.”
I walked over to examine them, then looked up. Standing this close, the pyramid seemed more like a wall going straight up. “What happened to the rest of them?” I asked.
“In the early thirteen hundreds, there was a big earthquake, which caused many to tumble down. Many were removed then and later used in constructing other buildings.
The guide continued. “Muhammad Ali Pasha removed several in the early 19th century to build his . You can see them on the upper portion of the building in Cairo not far from Giza.”
I wrote all that in my notebook. At least in the United States, we tear down buildings instead of only taking parts and leaving the robbed structure there.
“How far around is it?” I asked.
“It’s about 3/5ths of a mile,” the guide said.
I walked along the base marveling at the precision with which the blocks had been fitted.
The guide spread out his hands. “The whole mass is estimated to be 5.9 million tons. It took about 2.3 million stone blocks averaging 2.5 or more tons each.”
I shook my head, trying to imagine how many men it would take to haul that much stone over twenty years. “And to think they did it all without cranes or trucks to haul it. That’s mind boggling.”
It became cloudy. The air had cooled enough to cause goosebumps on my arms despite my sweater.
Mario studied me. “You’re cold.” He took off his jacket and spread it around my shoulders.
“Won’t you need it?”
“I’d rather shiver a bit than have you feel the chill.”
The guide looked at us. “It will get very cold after dark, but I’ll take you back before then. Now, you get to go inside.”
“Oh, wow, I didn’t know that was possible.”
The guide led us to an opening about six feet up. “This is called the Workman’s Tunnel. It was actually more efficient to build using a tunnel inside instead of a scaffolding outside.”
I followed. Cold, dusty air surrounded me, and the walls seemed to close in around us. At first, I had to duck a little because of the low ceiling, but after walking a while, we could stand up straight. Lit by electric bulbs on a cord, the walls were rough. We walked on a board that slanted down at an angle, maybe 40 degrees. Every fifteen inches or so, a one-inch wide strip had been nailed across it to prevent slipping. I was glad for the handrails on each side. Sometimes we had to squeeze against the wall to let returning tourists pass.
The tunnel opened up to the Grand Gallery, a long room, which must have stretched for about fifty feet. I looked up. The ceiling was arched but had stones put together at ninety-degree angles instead of being curved like the Roman arches. The midpoint of the roof must have been fifty feet above us.
The guide led us into the king’s chamber, where an empty granite sarcophagus stood. I looked around. “We have a lot of pink granite in Texas, but the tomb and the walls are a deeper red.”
The coffin didn’t look very long. When I asked, the guide said, “It’s 175 centimeters or about 5.74 feet.” Khufu must not have been very tall.
The sides were polished. “I want to touch it,” I said. Mario handed the guide some money.
“Only if your hands are very clean,” he said.
“Oh, they are,” I assured him. He stood there while I ran my hands over the rough edges for a few seconds and then backed away to take a picture. It looked like someone had broken the edges of the sides to take the lid off. The guide said the lid had never been found. The guide added, “Ever since the nineteenth century, people have hunted for another burial place in the pyramid for Khufu, using gunpowder, robots, and scanning equipment, but have not found one.”
When we came out of the pyramid, I took a deep breath, glad to be out in the sunshine again. The guide pointed to the other two large pyramids.
Mario looked at me. “Well, did you enjoy that?”
“I did. Immensely. Thank you so much for arranging it.”
“You are welcome,” he said as he took my hand and walked with me back to the tour bus.
That evening, we dined at a restaurant in Cairo. We ate stuffer sausage with rice. The sausages were much fatter than ones I was used to, but they were very tasty.
Mario had engaged a luxurious suite for us with separate bedrooms for him, Ernesto, and me. I filled the sunken marble tub with hot water and bath salts and stepped down into heavenly bubbles. Again, I almost wished I’d given in to his suggestion of sharing a room. This tub was big enough for two. But, I didn’t want to get involved with Mario unless I could see a future with him. And that didn’t look likely. Besides, summer classes at the university would start in June, and I needed to be back before they started.
By the time I started classes again, Mario would probably be enamored with another woman who wasn’t a redhead. I wondered if he’d like me better as a blonde.
The next day Mario treated me to a boat ride along the Nile. I loved seeing the landscape change from fields of waving grass to houses with bustling marketplaces nearby. I was glad for my hat to keep the sun out of me eyes, but I had to hold onto it to keep the wind from blowing it off.
We arrived at the airport near Imperia in the early evening. Mario got me settled at a hotel and treated me to dinner at the hotel restaurant. For dessert we had Crème Brulee Tropique with coconut, fresh pineapple and passion fruit seeds, somewhat reminiscent of Pina Colada. The creamy custard-like texture melted in my mouth. “That was scrumptious,” I told him. “But I can’t eat another bite.”
He walked me back to my room. At the door, he took me in his arms, making me feel warm, comforted, and cherished as he pressed kiss after kiss on my lips, my forehead and my neck. “There’s a parade tomorrow at noon. If you like, I can take a break from practice and watch it with you. The royal family always has a bunch of seats set aside to watch.”
“I’d like that very much. I’d like to meet the rest of your family, too.”
I spent the evening writing and polishing my article on the pyramids at Giza. Finally, feeling I couldn’t improve on it, I sent it to The Dallas Morning News by e-mail and crossed my fingers.
In the morning, I dressed with care, putting on a rust-colored top and matching skirt, knowing that I might be introduced to the king and queen as well as his other cousins. After hearing a knock, I took one last look in the mirror and opened the door.
His smile welcomed me, and he held out a hand. “Are you ready to go?”
I nodded. “Just let me grab my purse.”
It was nice to walk beside him in the sunshine. Ernesto followed several paces behind. The air was warm enough, so I didn’t need a sweater. I stopped in front of a house with steps bordered by a profusion of white lilies. The sidewalk from the door was lined with lilies of the valley all the way to the main sidewalk. Bending down, I inhaled their sweet smell. “I wish I could grow some of those at home.”
“If you get some, be careful they don’t take over your whole yard,” Ernesto said. “My mother claims they multiply like rabbits.”
“But I don’t have a yard. I only have pots on a balcony to grow flowers in.”
“Maybe you could get a big pot to plant some in,” Mario said. “I like lots of space around me. I don’t know how you manage to live in a cramped space with no room to run.”
“About two acres. My father didn’t want the house to seem overpowering in a small yard.”
“But now you spend a lot of time in locker rooms with other men and live mostly in hotels away from the furnishings and possessions which make your place a home. Don’t you get tired of that”
“No, because I know it’s temporary. The king has promised me, my brother, and my sister each a couple acres of land bordering the king’s forest. That way we won’t be bothered with curious townspeople. Riding in the occasional parade is enough contact with the public for me.”
“I take it you haven’t been invited to ride in this parade.”
He shook his head. “Just watching is good enough. Listen. I hear drums. We’d better walk faster. It must be starting soon.”
People were hurrying by. Many glanced at Mario, and some even waved. A little girl, looking to be about six or seven, held out a white carnation to him. He took it, smiled, and said, “Thank you, young lady.” She curtsied, then ran back to a woman, probably her mother.
We passed a jewelry store, and I stopped to view a green peridot ring designed in the shape of a five-petal flower. I wore a lot of green, and that would look nice with those outfits. I pointed. “I like the looks of that. I’ll check it out later. If it won’t put too big a dent in my credit card balance, maybe I’ll get it while I’m here.”
Mario frowned. “Are you hinting you’d like me to buy it for you?”
Oh my gosh. I hadn’t even thought of that. How could I have let my mouth run away from me? A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to speak. “Heaven’s no. I’d never do that. I was just saying I might pick it up before I leave Monterra.” I hoped he wouldn’t think I was a gold-digger.
I could see the turrets and flags of the palace a block away. “Does the parade start from the palace?”
“Always.” He took my hand, and we hurried past the spiked fence and past the gatehouse inside.
People were lined up around the special bleachers, marked by poles trimmed with red and gold ribbons flapping in the breeze. Occasionally a sudden gust made them snap. Two soldiers stood at attention on each side of the bleachers, and a uniformed policeman stood on the nearest side, urging people to stay behind the edge of the street. Three couples and three young girls, one of whom looked about nineteen, sat in the bleachers.
“Come.” Mario said, “The seats on those bleachers have been reserved for the royal family. “I want you to meet my cousins.” Ernesto stood guard next to the palace guards wearing red and gold uniforms.
Oh, wow, I was going to sit with royalty, and he was going to introduce me as an equal. How exciting. My pulse raced, and I hoped I could think of appropriate things to say. They were all nicely dressed, and I worried my outfit wouldn’t look as classy.