Page 90 of What the River Knows

Maybe he had brought them to a temple with that particular gate, left them to die?

I sat up in the bedroll, the mosquito net surrounding me like a bridal veil. Hot tears pricked my eyes and I angrily wiped them away. Part of me wished I’d never come to Egypt. Then I would never have discovered such a horrifying betrayal. I would never have known how families could turn on one another in unforgiveable cruelty.

I had been naive and stubborn.

But I finally knew the truth.

What I needed was a plan. I’d have to conduct thorough searches of his cabin on the dahabeeyahandhis room here in the camp. He might have taken his most important valuables off the boat, so I’d start with the easiest target first. Getting inside his room ought to be no problem. I knew how my uncle worked. He liked to get his hands dirty, and he wouldn’t lounge while the others dug. Which gave me plenty of opportunity to search his room, thanks to my job sketching and painting the ruins.

But I’d made a foolish mistake tonight.

I’d revealed far too much to Whit and I wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t tell Tío Ricardo what we’d done tonight the first chance he had. I couldn’t allow him to do that.

With a sigh, I shoved away the netting and stood.

The curtains weren’t thick, and moonlight poured into the small space through the loose weave. I pulled them open and crept outside. Cool air settled around me, teasing loose strands from my braid. The stretch of makeshift rooms stood before me. Whit had ducked into the one next to mine after we’d walked back from Trajan’s Kiosk. I stood in front of his quarters, suddenly seized with the full awareness of what I was about to do.

I’d never, in my whole life, spent so much time with a man without the presence of a family member. But since arriving in Egypt, I’d spent an incredible amount of time with Whit. I’d had more freedom than I’d ever been allowed. It was the first few sips of delicious, cold water and I found that I was thirsty for more.

But sneaking into a man’s room in the dead of night?

I’d gone to bed wearing the loose Turkish trousers and oversized cotton shirt that buttoned up to my chin. I was covered from head to foot but it still didn’t matter. This was a definite boundary I’d never have dreamed of crossing.

It had to be done.

I couldn’t allow Whit to tell my uncle what I’d discovered. It might secure my stay for the time being, but it also meant my uncle would be aware that I knew about all of his lying. I needed more time. One more day to conduct my searches.

With a steadying breath, I swept aside the curtain and walked inside Whit’s room. Darkness enclosed the narrow space—

A strong hand clapped hard against my mouth. I squirmed against the brute strength, but I might as well have been grappling against one of the pyramids. The arm around my waist tightened and then I was flipped, landing on my back against the bedroll. My breath whooshed out of me in a fast current. A heavy weight settled at an angle over my chest. Warm breath brushed across my face.

“Who are you?” someone snarled in my ear. With a start, I realized it wasWhit. His voice sounded rough and gravelly, nothing like his usual drawling charm.

“It’s me,” I whispered. “Inez.”

He stiffened.

A long torturous beat stretched between us, neither of us moving, hardly daring to breathe. It might have only been the two of us alone on Philae. His arms bracketed my head, the long line of his chest pinning me down. Innocent terror overwhelmed me. Not ofhim,but of the intimacy flaring between us. His furious breaths brushed against my face. Whit pushed up and sprang backward. The curtain remained open and moonbeams flooded his room. He kneeled on the ground beside the bedroll, his face twisted in fury. Silently, he went to an upended crate and struck a match. Without ceremony he lit a candle, and the flame illuminated his room.

It was neatly arranged, far tidier than mine. He didn’t have many worldly possessions: a few tins of tooth powder, one comb and razor, and a small square of mint-hued soap near the washbasin. A leather journal rested atop a stack of books, the gold foil on the spines revealing each title:Elemental Manual of Chemistry, Lessons in Elemental Chemistry: Inorganic and Organic,andHandbook of Chemistry.

Whit moved, stepping in front of the stack, effectively blocking my view. “What the bloody hell are you doing?” he whisper-shouted. “I could have hurt you.”

Silver light cut across his face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw, the furious set to his shoulders. I had no idea he had any interest in the sciences. It seemed incongruous with the Whit I knew, the former soldier, a roguish brawler who drank too much. This was a side of himself he kept hidden away—but then I remembered how he’d spoken of gunpowder.A simple chemical explosion. Curiosity burned in my gut, questions rose in my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to remember the reason I had come.

“I have to talk to you.”

“It couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“No, I couldn’t risk you talking to my uncle about tonight. You’re oddly honorable when you want to be.”

“The hell I am.”

I brushed aside his comment with an impatient flick of my hand. “Who did you think I was? Why the extreme reaction?”

“That was extreme?” He let out a low, harsh laugh. “You’re absolutely right. I should have invited a stranger in disguise for a spot of tea in the middle of the night. How dare I defend myself?”

It was more than that. I felt the tension racking his brawny frame. He’d been half-furious, half-afraid. Something had put him on edge. He’d been expecting an attack, for someone to creep into his room at this ungodly hour.

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