Danger in the Desert. Merline Lovelace

with jewel-toned silks and his body sleek with sweat as she straddled his hips and …

      “… your ticket?”

      She blinked. “Excuse me?”

      “Do you have your ticket,” Deke asked, “or do we need to buy another?”

      “Oh! I’ve got it. Somewhere.”

      She fished around in her tote for several moments before finally producing the envelope of tickets included in the welcome packets provided by the tour agency. Deke paid for his and ushered her inside.

      The entrepreneurs who’d come up with the idea of an ultramodern laser light show to tell the story of four-thousand-year-old pyramids hadn’t missed a trick. The building giving access to the open-air amphitheater was crammed with cafés, bars, ice cream stands and, of course, the inevitable souvenir shops. One contained a window display of every object a tourist could desire. Her eyes widening, Jaci dragged Deke to a halt in front of a dazzling display of artifacts.

      “Look, there’s the Egyptian cat goddess.”

      She nodded to a slim, elegant feline with emerald eyes and a collar studded with colorful rhinestones.

      “And there’s a scarab just like mine!”

      The muscles in Deke’s forearm seemed to tighten under her hand. “You bought a scarab?”

      Eagerly, she pointed to a dizzying display of beetles stacked one almost on top of the other. Most were round and fat. Only a handful had elongated bodies and one missing antennae.

      “I didn’t buy it. I found it in the City of the Dead.”

      She fished around in her tote again and produced a tissue-wrapped object. When she unfolded the tissue and held her prize up in her palm, Deke leaned forward for a closer look.

      “It’s only a cheap imitation,” she said with a rueful smile. “Still, it’s a fun souvenir.”

      She poked the chipped beetle with a finger and flipped it over onto its back.

      “I’d love to know what these hieroglyphics stand for. One of the members in my Thursday-night study group is Egyptian. As soon as we get a break in our schedule, I’m going to snap a digital picture of the symbols and email it to him.”

      “Or,” Deke said slowly, “you could let me send the scarab to Kahil. He’ll know someone who can decipher the symbols. I bet he could have a translation ready when we join him and Fahranna for dinner tomorrow evening.”

      “I couldn’t ask him to go to that trouble!”

      “I can. The two of us go way back.”

      “I got that impression from Dr. El Hassan. But …”

      Jaci fingered the green insect, oddly reluctant to relinquish it. Look at the good luck it had already brought her. Who would have dreamed she’d literally fall into the arms of a man like Deke Griffin?

      “The symbols most likely say ‘Made in China.’”

      “Probably. Kahil will find out for you.”

      “If you’re sure he won’t mind …”

      “I’m sure.”

      She dropped the beetle into his outstretched palm. She felt another odd pang when he pocketed the bug. The strange feeling disappeared when she reminded herself that she was now firmly committed to another evening with this fascinating man. The prospect made her heart beat a little faster as he ushered her out of the concession building into the viewing area.

      With the last rays of the sun fading fast, the massive monoliths of the pyramids were now only faintly visible in the distance. The Sphinx, Jaci saw with a sudden catch in her breath, appeared much closer. In ancient times, the sandstone monument had marked the approach to the sacred tombs. Now it would form a dramatic backdrop for a display of ultra high-tech lasers.

      That wasn’t the only juxtaposition of ancient and modern to strike Jaci. Like a Greek amphitheater, seating for the outdoor show descended to the desert floor in steep tiers. Instead of polished marble, however, these seats were stackable plastic lawn chairs.

      Smiling at the incongruity, Jaci showed her ticket to an usher. Her tour ticket entitled her to a seat in the middle tier. Deke’s, the usher informed them, was in the front tier.