Relentless Read Free

given him this assignment just before conveniently hieing his arse to some jungle in South America for months on end to build an adventure camp for pre-parolees.
    The tie-in between Miss Magee, London, and Egypt was so blatantly obvious as to be laughable. Too bad he was rarely amused.
    Thorne’s father was one of the professor’s largest benefactors. What he knew of the professor was precious little. But he did know the man liked his booze, and had a propensity to lie. Did she know who his father was? “Go on.”
    “The tomb of Cleopatra has been my father’s life’s work for over twenty years.” Tears apparently forgotten, she was now all earnest sincerity. “He finally discovered its location three months ago.”
    “He’s ‘discovered’ that tomb—what? Five or six times?” Thorne pointed out dryly.
    “Oh, damn,” she sighed, drawing his disinterested gaze to her small, plump breasts. “You really do know of him. Seven times. But the seventh was—”
    He redirected his attention. She had a soft, delectable mouth slicked with glossy pink lipstick, and just looking at those shiny lips made him hard. And annoyed. Thorne wasn’t in the market for a lover at the moment, and he doubted the luscious Miss Magee was the one-night-stand type, even if he was. Pity, but there it was. “Look, Miss Magee—”
    “Isis.”
    Of course it was. Trust a crackpot archaeologist like August Magee to stick his kid with the name of an Egyptian goddess. “Let me be brutally frank here, Isis . Your father’s reputation precedes him. He was archaeology’s darling more than a decade ago, but he has a problem with veracity. He’s cried wolf more often than not. And frankly his drinking hasn’t done him any favors.” He pinched his fingers together as if holding a shot glass and tipped it back for illustration. “If the tomb really exists, and if this time the find is genuine, then he’s going to need evidence before he’s believed. Having you do it for him probably won’t do the trick.”
    “He has Alzheimer’s,” Isis said flatly.
    Thorne stared at her for a moment, waiting to see if there was anything else. Satisfied there wasn’t, he got to his feet. Not that he was walking anywhere. But he rose so she’d take the hint and leave. “Then it would appear you’re screwed.” His leg protested as if a great white shark had seized his thigh muscle between its teeth. He gripped the edge of the desk, keeping his expression neutral with effort, even though his knuckles were turning white. “Sorry I can’t help you.”
    She beamed those big, tear-drenched eyes up at him like a surface-to-air missile with complex target tracking. “Please.”
    Gut tight in reaction to her soft plea, he resumed his seat. “All I can tell you is that whatever was inside the box is somewhere in the museum in London. While my skills are pretty specific, the best I can do is give you the general location of what you’re looking for. Finding it could possibly take you months, if not years. There are in the neighborhood of seventy million items there.”
    She frowned. “How could you possibly know that?”
    “My father is one of the benefactors of the museum. The Egyptian section of the Natural History Museum in London, in fact.” Thorne was going to hand Zak his arse on a platter five minutes after the emotional Miss Isis Magee departed. He was supposed to be recovering, not dealing with emotional-baggage-laden weepy females.
    “The Earl of Kilgetty is your father ?” Her eyes went wide and she slid to the edge of her chair. “That’s terrific. He’ll be a big help. And I know every single artifact my father donated to the museum, right up to the lastpiece. We can go through the exhibits. Hands on. I know we’ll find something that’ll lead us to Egypt and Cleo’s tomb.”
    We? “Unless you have a mouse in your pocket the answer to that is a resounding no. I have absolutely no desire to return to England under any