As Long As Read Online Free PDF Page B

hands to her upper arms and started rubbing. And then she lied.
    “Valerie.”
    “Hmm. My name is Sokar.”
    She licked her lower lip. A rush of sensation smacked into him. It grabbed him from behind. Reached around his buttocks and put a heated grip on his loins. From there, it sent all kinds of shockwaves throbbing through the area. Without one hint of warning. Sokar glanced down in surprise. And then stunned amazement.
    Amun be praised! It was all true! He was even regaining his ability to—
    “You’re named for a god of dead?”
    He looked back up, and swiftly moved his gaze. To anything else. The lights of Cairo meshed into a blur as he pretended to study them, struggling for composure. This was worse than being spelled by Heka , the goddess of magic. He had to conceal what was happening. Prevent anything from showing. It shouldn’t be difficult. He’d been known for stoicism while he’d lived. The statues in his tomb portrayed it perfectly. He didn’t show emotion. He was a credit to his real namesake: Amun. The hidden one.
    And...
    Oh. This was terrible.
    And wonderful.
    He felt a flush rise into his face, spreading more warmth as it moved. He could hear a distinct buzzing, too. As if the yearly pestilence had come early and he’d failed to protect his ears while he slept. What had she asked again? Oh. Yes. His name.
    “It is actually...Sokarhotep.”
    Good. His voice worked. It wasn’t a soft sound, however. He heard what sounded like window glass flexing before it decided to stay intact. And then the reverberation of his voice returned to him.
    “Your name means ‘a god of the dead is pleased’? Is that supposed to be better?”
    Sokar groaned and lost more ground as he stepped closer, hovering above her. Despite the risk and what might ensue. Her perfume assaulted him, toying with his newly awakened sense of smell. Each inhalation carried another dose of her particular scent. Warmed fragrant sandalwood. A hint of blended spices. The wafting smoke of incense. He couldn’t place it. He ceased trying. The combination wreaked more havoc on his control. His feet in the expensive new dress shoes slid an inch closer to her. Without one bit of conscious volition. Sokar pulled every muscle in his upper body into knots. Wrenched his abdomen muscles taut. Yanked thigh and buttocks as tightly as possible, and that barely worked at containing his urge to reach out. Grab her. Hold her close. Consume her.
    She didn’t know. And he hadn’t been schooled properly. Nor prepared enough. This mating thing was an incredible force. Unmanageable. Impossible to deny. Unbelievably difficult to control.
    “Cat got your tongue?” she asked.
    Sokar narrowed his eyes. He felt like thanking her sharp tongue even as he guessed her game. She was trying to anger him. Rile his temper. Perhaps use it to spark hers. It was a ploy he’d used on the battlefield more than once. Angered soldiers fought harder. With more determination. Bloodlust.
    Or...
    It occurred to him that since she didn’t know why he was here, she could be attempting to anger him for another reason. If she’d translated the curse and believed it, a quick death might be preferred.
    Or...
    Why did he bother pondering? It could be a mix of reasons, all of them variable. She didn’t appear to be trembling any longer, though. He now had that issue. He swallowed before answering, hoping to hide any shakiness in his voice.
    “You...know the deities?”
    “Oh. That’s right. I forgot. You’re a misogynist.”
    “A what?”
    “Woman hater.”
    Oh! If only that were true! He wouldn’t be standing inches from the most desirable woman in the universe, ready to go to his knees and beg. That’s what came of fighting against a whorl of primal need, his body coiled tight and ready to spring. Snatch her to him. Rip the pristine white gown from her body...
    And discover heaven.
    His knees quivered. Grew weak at the instant visual his mind conjured and his self-restraint