Page 29 of Sacrifice

The day passed in a chilly blur, interrupted by the arrival of a number of display cases, which she positioned in key spots through the two rooms, and a phone call from Lucien.

“I’m going to see a contact in Paris tomorrow,” he said, and Eve pulled her coat a little tighter around herself. “There are a couple of things I’d like to lay my hands on, and she may have other artefacts pertinent to our theme. I’d appreciate the backup of an Egyptology expert. Are you free?”

Eve snorted a little into the phone before she composed herself. It was perfectly obvious to her she’d be delighted to go. Paris was a place Eve had never visited and going as Dr Lucien Knight’s fellowexpertwas somewhat surreal.

“I think I can clear my diary,” she said in a strangled voice. She was glad he couldn’t see the dopey smile spreading across her face.

“Excellent,” Lucien purred. “If Madame Laveau can’t get what I’m looking for, then nobody can. I’m glad you can come,” he said. “I think you’ll enjoy the experience.”

Eve’s insides fluttered.

Nineteen

Enormous excitement gaveway to blind panic.

Lucien had rather casually suggested that she throw a few things into an overnight bag. ‘Something for business and something for pleasure,’ he’d said offhandedly. She was almost certain she’d detected awinkin his voice, and she squirmed with delight at the thought of it.

At the time, it had seemed like such a simple request, but now, as she faced her open wardrobe, it was perfectly obvious she hadnothingto wear.

Eve flicked through the loaded hangers in desperation. Business attire was not something she’d had much use for and the options were limited to a ‘smart’ pair of navy trousers she suspected might once have been school uniform, and a skirt suit she’d bought for interviews post-Uni. She yanked it out and held it against herself to look in the mirror.

It hadn’t seen much action, so it was still in good condition and the skirt was a bit short, but it looked like the best bet. She tossed it to her bed and threw a plain white shirt on top. That was as good as it was going to get.

Now pleasure. Pleasure was a tricky one, too. Were we talking about sight-seeing comfortable shoes and hoodie typepleasure? Or the kind that involved a fancy dinner in heels? She had no idea what Lucien was planning or how close they might get. She yanked open her underwear draw to rifle through it. Anything vaguely grey or frumpy was a definite no go.

Selections made, she crammed everything into a hold-all and settled down for a fitful night’s sleep.

The next morning, the suit and heels weren’t quite as comfortable as remembered. After so much time spent in jeans and t-shirts, business attire felt restricting. It made Eve hold herself differently, much more stiffly. But that upright posture brought unexpected consequences. It brought about in Eve a certain confidence. Sliding into Lucien’s limo, she felt positively executive and climbing the steps to his jet, like she was having an out-of-body experience.

She grinned inwardly.Could this job actually get any better?It was becoming surreal.

His private jet, LK1 was a dream of luxury. All gleaming surfaces and soft leather, it was spacious inside beyond all expectation.

Lucien shucked off his jacket for the hostess and directed her to a pair of seats on either side of a table. Others lodged in a convivial curve. There was even a sofa. Eve scanned around the plane, amazed.

“Unless you’d prefer somewhere else?”

“No, this is fine.” She smiled and shook her head. ‘Fine’ was the understatement of the century.

She unbuttoned her jacket and gave it to the hostess, too.

“Welcome on board. Can I get you a drink, Mr Knight?”

“Champagne, please Cecile.”

“And for you, Miss Areli?”

“Seems rude not to,” said Eve. She shuffled awkwardly into her seat.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” said Lucien, “Relax. It’s just us.”

His voice was a soft purr that made it very difficult for Eve to relax. Quite the contrary. Being so close to Lucien made her senses prick up. His very proximity raised goosebumps on her arms. She sank into her seat, grateful for Lucien’s choice of seating. Being on either side of a table provided camouflage for the too short skirt she was starting to regret. It rode uncontrollably up her thigh. Lucien settled in opposite, folding back his shirt sleeves to reveal tanned and muscular forearms. Energy fizzed over Eve’s skin. She was going to have to get a grip on herself.

“Here’s to a successful trip,” Lucien said, lifting his newly delivered flute.

“To success,” Eve echoed and chinked her glass against his. She took a sip. The champagne was dry and light. “Not how I was expecting my Friday morning to pan out. Thank you.”

Lucien nodded his acceptance.

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