Chapter Six
Hale took in the faded, worn marks. It wasn’t any language he recognized, but he knew it was old.
“Jesus,” Elin whispered. “Carter, these symbols are Phoenician.”
He frowned. “Phoenician?”
She nodded. “Solomon was allies with the Phoenicians and their king, Hiram.” She looked up. “He hired the Phoenicians to build his temple. They were accomplished architects and builders. But more than that, they were expert seafarers. Their ships traveled all over the world.”
“Solomon also hired them for their ships?”
“Yes. Many scholars believe that Solomon used Phoenician ships to transport goods from Ophir. There are even references to Hiram demanding more payment for his work on the temple and Solomon promising him a trip to Ophir.”
“Can you read Phoenician?”
“No.” She lifted her phone and snapped a picture. “And these engravings aren’t complete.”
“It looks like there was another rock on top of it.” Hale looked around and then bent down, turning rocks over. Elin moved to help.
He turned a large rock over and went still. “Alex?”
She spun and gasped. “God, the engravings are pristine.”
At some point, long ago, the rock had fallen facedown, which had protected the engravings. He stared at the scratch-like characters.
Elin carefully reached out and touched one, wonder on her face. Hale paused, his gaze zeroed in on her features. He’d never expected to see the no-nonsense FBI agent look at anything like that.
She snapped another picture. “You’d better call Claude over.”
Hale moved to the other side of the hill. He yelled and waved his arms until the rest of their group headed in their direction.
Claude crested the hill and hurried up to the rocks, jubilant. “I knew we’d find it! Well done.”
Sabine sauntered in after him, shooting Hale a look. He wasn’t sure if the woman wanted to strip him naked or kill him. She was a hard one to read.
“What’s it say?” Claude said to Rex.
Hale had learned that Rex was Claude’s archeologist. The blond man knelt and studied the inscriptions.
“You know Phoenician?” Elin asked skeptically.
Rex nodded. “I know several ancient languages.” The man moved his fingers over the markings.
As the minutes ticked by, Claude got more agitated. “Where do we go next? What does it say?”
“Patience. Some of these are quite worn.” Rex looked up with a smile. “But there is a reference to Ophir here. And a mountain of gold.”
Behind Hale, he heard the excited rumbles from the rest of the team.
“Well, this could mean north…” Rex mused. “But it’s not quite right.”
“You need to work faster,” Claude snapped. “We’ll lose the light soon.”
“Baby,” Sabine drawled. “We’ve got this.”
Claude swung around, muttering in French. He kicked some small rocks, sending them skittering down the side of the hill.
Hale glanced west, and saw that the sun would be setting soon. The desert was already changing color, the gold turning more red. They needed to set up camp before it got too late. It wasn’t a good idea to be wandering around in the dark with wildlife out on the prowl.
“We need to set up camp,” Hale said.
Claude’s face twisted into a scowl. “Just take some pictures and keep working on it after we set up camp,” he barked at Rex. “We’ll camp here, in case you need to see these again in the morning.”
The beleaguered archaeologist nodded, pulling out a large camera to take several high-resolution shots.
Soon, the group headed back down the hill toward their vehicles.
“Someone start a fire,” Claude ordered. “We want to keep the wildlife away.”
Everyone set to work. Hale and Elin grabbed their gear from their Land Rover. Nearby, Sabine was setting up a small, portable camp shower. Several of the men were setting up camp chairs, angling them to face the magnificent sunset.
Elin climbed up on the back bumper of the Land Rover and started untying the cover on the rooftop tent packed on the roof. “Hope you don’t snore.”
Hale paused.
“Problem?” she asked.
“I’m…a restless sleeper.”
“You should be too tired to toss and turn.” She reached up and unfolded the tent. It was like opening a clam shell. A platform folded out over the side of the vehicle, with a ladder extending down to the ground. The khaki tent was attached to the platform.
“It’s not that.” God, how to tell her he hadn’t slept beside a woman since he’d left the Navy?
Blue eyes met his and her expression softened. “What is it, Carter?”
“I have nightmares.” He felt his muscles stiffening. “Sometimes I wake up and don’t know where I am. I could hurt you.”
She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s okay. I’m a trained agent and I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He blew out a breath. No way he’d risk hurting her. He could foresee a long, sleepless night ahead.
They got their sleeping bags and other gear stored inside the tent. It was only just big enough for two, and Hale wasn’t a small guy. It would be a tight fit.
Rex was sitting near his vehicle, hunched over his work, with a small lantern set up beside his chair. The rest of the Silk Road team was sitting around the fire—eating, drinking beers, and laughing. Hale and Elin sat by their Land Rover, quietly eating their meals.
Claude stood and took a long pull from his beer. “I’m going to be rich beyond my wildest dreams!” He lifted his bottle into the air. “Santé.”
Hale picked at his food, and Elin did the same beside him.
“This is a great first date,” he said. “Firelight, great meal, good company.”
Elin raised a brow. “I’d prefer a nice Shiraz, a steak—” she lowered her voice “—and no criminals.”
“I’ll remember that.” He looked over, watching as night crept over the desert and a mass of stars blinked to life overhead.
“Hey, Carter,” one of the Silk Road guys called out. “You’re ex-military, right?”
“Yeah,” he replied, turning his head.
“What was your worst mission? We’re trading war stories.”
Hale stiffened, ugly memories trying to break free. His chest felt tight. “They were all bad.”
He turned his back to the group and he heard a few grumbles, but soon they forgot about him and kept talking among themselves.
Elin was watching him.
“Your last mission was bad,” she said quietly. “The one that caused you to quit the SEALs.”
Hale ground his teeth together, well aware that her words were statements, not questions. “You read my file. I don’t talk about it. It’s done. Gone.”
“Does ignoring it work?”
Now he looked at her, anger thrumming through his veins. “You going to tell me I need to talk it out? Go to therapy? Relive every fucking thing that happened? Maybe I should do some yoga and meditation while I’m at it?”
“Yes. Talking about it could help. I’ve had assignments go bad—”
He jerked to his feet. “Have you been tortured? Had your fingers broken one by one? Have you failed your friends and watched them get tortured and killed?”
She bit her lip. “No.”
“So don’t pretend you can understand what I need. Like I said, I don’t talk about it. Let’s just focus on the mission.”
“Hale—”
Suddenly, heated voices broke out around the fire. They both turned. Claude was squaring off with Rex, berating the archaeologist.
“You should have the direction by now!” Claude yelled. “Where is Ophir?”
“I need some more time—”
“Sucks to be Rex.” Hale dropped back into his chair.
“Claude is impatient.” Elin pulled up her own image on her phone in her lap. “I looked up some Phoenician and I think we do need to go north. It’s the distance that’s problematic. It references an ell.” She pulled a face. “It was a biblical unit of measurement, but the Phoenician ell was slightly different to a standard ell and there is also the Hebrew cubit to consider.”
Suddenly, there were startled shouts, and Claude pulled a pistol from his waistband. He aimed it at the archaeologist and fired.
Rex flew backward, landing among the rocks, not moving.
Elin shot to her feet and Hale grabbed her arm to keep her from moving forward. Everyone was silent.
“He was holding us up on purpose.” Claude’s face was eerily composed. “He was the Treasure Hunter Security spy!”
“Sweetie, you need to chill,” Sabine drawled. She held up a beer. “If you kill all of our team, we’ll never reach Ophir.”
Everyone watched in tense silence, waiting to see what Claude would do next.
Hale kept his fingers flexed, ready to reach for his SIG tucked at his hip. But then the tension drained from the Frenchman. He took the beer from Sabine and tipped the bottle back, taking a long drink. Then dropped down into a chair.
Suddenly, Elin strode toward Claude. Cursing, Hale hurried to keep up with her.
“I took a good look at the engravings,” she said. “I think I know the way.” She shot Rex’s body a single glance before looking back at Claude.
Hale knew the man’s death had to affect her. She was an FBI agent, and she was good at it. But she was putting it aside to stay on track with the mission.
“We definitely have to head north,” she said. “My best guess, we need to travel about two hundred kilometers to get there. My calculation of ancient distance units might be a bit off, though.”
“Merci, Alex,” Claude said. “Finally, some competence.” He leaned back in his chair. “Westcott, you are on watch. Thompson, take Van Wyk to help you bury Rex’s body. We don’t need it here in camp luring the wildlife. Everybody, relax and get some rest. We leave at first light.”
Elin and Hale headed toward their vehicle. “You get ready first,” Hale said. “Let me grab a few things, and I’ll take a shower.”
He felt tension spike between them. As he grabbed some fresh clothes, Elin climbed up the ladder to the tent.
Hale headed for the shower, keen to splash some water over his head. Some cold water might help the fact that despite everything going on, his body was excruciatingly aware that he was going to spend the night with Elin Alexander. He headed toward the camp shower and pulled up short.
Sabine slipped out from behind the sheet of canvas someone had rigged around the shower. She was naked. She smiled at him, running her towel over her wet hair.
“Planning to take a shower?” she asked.
“Uh, no.” Not anymore. He gave her a wide berth and reached for the water container. He tipped some out and washed his face.
Sabine moved up behind him, her body brushing against his. She smelled strongly of coconut.
“I’d love to see you naked. Is it true that black men have big cocks?”
Charming. “I’m only half African American, so I’m probably not a good test case.”
Her hand touched his ass. “I bet yours is mighty fine, Carter. I’d love to have a play.”
He straightened and stepped away. “I’m tired and headed to bed.”
Her face twisted unattractively. “With your pretty blonde. She doesn’t seem your type.”
Like she knew him or his type. “Good night.”
He didn’t hurry back to his tent, but damn, he wanted to. He climbed up the ladder and into the tent. Inside, Elin was lying on her side on her sleeping bag, just covered by a light sheet. A compact electric lantern glowed beside her. She was tapping notes into her tablet.
She raised a brow. “Thought you were taking a shower.”
“Change of plans. I’ll just wash up and change here.”
“Why do you smell like Sabine?”
He shifted to dig through his bag for his wet wipes. “Let’s just say she made me an offer I was happy to refuse…and forgo my shower.”
Elin made a sound and clicked the lantern off. Hale quickly wiped himself over and changed his clothes for fresh ones. Since it was hot, he left his shirt off.
After his eyes adjusted, he could tell she was lying flat on her back. He lay down on his sleeping bag, excruciatingly conscious that they were almost hip to hip, and only inches away from each other.
The tension was thick.
Shit, if he fell asleep and had a nightmare, he really could hurt her.
“I’m not sure sharing a tent is a good idea.” Her voice broke the darkness.
He tried to keep things light. “Don’t think you can control yourself?”
She made a scoffing sound. “Nothing wrong with your ego, is there?” She was silent for a second. “Claude killed Rex like he was nothing. No hesitation, no thought, no remorse.” Her voice had lowered to a soundless whisper, conscious of not being overheard.
“He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way,” Hale said.
“I know.”
Her voice sounded odd, and he tried to see more of her in the darkness. “Elin? What is it?”
“Silk Road killed my father.”
“What?” He sat up. “When?”
“I was thirteen.”
“Hell.”
“They were barely getting started back then. My mother restores art, primarily paintings. They broke into our home to steal the painting she was working on. My father tried to stop them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“They took the painting, and for several horrible weeks, my mother was the main suspect.” A harsh expulsion of air. “It tarnished her career, even after she was exonerated. I won’t let them keep doing it.”
“That’s why you joined the FBI?”
“No. I wanted to be a police officer from the time I started school. But once I learned about the Art Crime Team, yes, Silk Road was a big factor for me joining. I’ve been working my butt off to bring them down, and if I pull this mission off, there’s a promotion waiting for me.”
“Sounds important.”
“It is. I’d join an Interpol task force and have a greater reach to keep fighting Silk Road and other antiquities thieves. Plus, I’d get to live in France. I’ve always wanted to stand on top of the Eiffel Tower and know I’ve achieved what I worked for.” Her voice lowered. “And know that Silk Road can’t destroy some other kid’s life.”
“I have your back.” Hale reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “I won’t let any of these people hurt you.”
“I can protect myself, Carter, and I won’t let any of them hurt you, either.”
He blinked. He was a protector. Hell, he’d made a career out of it. When had anyone ever said they’d protect him? “I’m sorry about your dad, and what happened to your mom.”
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Now, say something arrogant again, instead of being a good guy.”
He rolled over, looking at the pale oval of her face in the darkness. “I am a good guy.”
Pulled by something he didn’t quite understand, he moved closer. She didn’t move away, and he sensed her gaze on him.
“Except when I’m bad. Because with the right woman, one who is extremely sexy doing her job, one with a sharp mind that I love to watch at work, and one with tightly-toned curves and an ass I’m begging to hold in my hands, and a mouth I want to taste—”
“I think you made your point.” Her voice was husky.
“Then I can be very bad,” he murmured.
He heard her breath hitch. “We have a mission, a—”
“Dangerous one. I know. That’s why I haven’t touched you, and I won’t.” He made a strangled sound. “And why I have to try and get some rest with a painful hard-on.”
Elin was silent. Suddenly, she sat up and faced him. He could just make out her bare shoulders and the thin straps of her tank top.
Then, she leaned over and kissed him, sending shock rocketing through his body. It was a light kiss. A testing taste, rather than a full kiss.
She pulled back, and they stared at each other.
Damn, she tasted so good. Hale wrapped his arms around her and yanked her closer. Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she slithered into his lap. Her mouth opened and Hale took.
Their tongues twined, and he felt heat explode through him, his cock throbbing. She kissed him like she needed him more than air, and he fucking loved it. Elin Alexander was wild under her FBI gloss.
She yanked back, panting. They stared at each other in the darkness.
He gripped her hips. “Elin—”
She shook her head. “Ah…that got a bit out of control.”
And something told him Elin didn’t like losing control.
She scooted back onto her sleeping bag. Arousal still sang through Hale’s blood, and he flexed his hands on his sleeping bag. He wanted more. He wanted to touch and taste every part of her. He wanted her laid out naked before him, ready for his fingers, his mouth, his cock.
A breath shuddered out of him. Sex was fun. He liked the hell out of it. But it didn’t usually leave him feeling this jittery and on edge.
“I think we need to cool it off,” Elin said. “And remember our mission.”
Frustration bit at him. She was in full retreat. “You want to pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I don’t pretend anything, Carter. It happened. Now we move on.” She yanked her sheet up.
He laughed. “Right. You keep telling yourself that, Elin.”
“What’s that mean?”
He reached out and ran his thumb over her lips. She went still, but he felt her lips part.
Oh, yeah. She wanted him. “You know what that means.” Then he pulled back, lay down, and rolled over.
He heard her plump her pillow and lie down, too. Fuck, his skin was still hot. He wanted to reach for her and pull her under him until she was begging him to touch her.
He listened to her toss and turn, and her obvious discomfort made him smile. Good.
Then he stared at the wall of the tent and wondered how the hell he was going to make it through the night.