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Tricia nodded. “Of course. It’s been uncrated and examined.”

“Did you touch it?”

A tremor of apprehension passed through her at the alarm in his voice.

“Why shouldn’t I touch it? It’s fascinating. The flame inside looks real, but the pyramid appears to be sealed. Real fire can’t burn without oxygen.”

The Comte banged his fist on the arm of his chair, making her jump. “Ça alors! After all I gave up to protect you.”

“What are you talking about?” Christian’s son hadn’t done anything to protect her. She hadn’t met him until today.

“Where is the ben ben?” At her frown, he gestured impatiently at the photograph. “I mean the pyramid, Tricia, where is it?”

“In the secure area beneath the gallery at the Bristol Institute of Art.”

“I need to see it.”

Tricia found herself shaking her head in confusion. “Can’t you just explain what this ben ben is? Once I know, the Institute can value it and decide whether or not to put it on display.”

“The ben ben must be kept hidden.” The Comte surged to his feet, paced to the door and wrenched it open. “Remy!” When Monsieur Benoit hurried up, Christian issued rapid instructions in French. Then he returned to her and stared intently at the pyramid’s photograph. “We depart for England immediately. You will not leave my sight, Tricia. We’re lucky you have not already been claimed.”

Tricia rose to her feet unsteadily. Irritation stirred across her shocked thoughts. The emotional meeting and his strange reaction had left her shaken, but she did not intend to let this young upstart take over and treat her like an idiot. “You’re welcome to come and view the pyramid, my lord, but I can look after myself. There’s no reason why I should be in danger.”

“Non?” His breath hissed out between his teeth. He closed his eyes for a second and flexed his shoulders, making a visible effort to relax. When his eyes opened again, he surprised her by reaching for her hand. He raised her knuckles to his lips and pressed a warm kiss to them.

Streamers of tickly heat fluttered through her belly, leaving her breathless with mortification at her response. She must not react to him like this. She was old enough to be his mother.

His glittering green gaze caressed her face and a tiny smile caught at the corners of his mouth. “My noble intentions are undone, mon amour. I gave you up to protect you from danger, but danger has found you anyway. I should be sorry, but my heart sings now fate has given you back to me.”

Two

Christian piloted the helicopter from France to Bristol Airport in the UK. The emotional roller coaster of the last few hours had left Tricia lightheaded. Was it only this morning that she’d set out from her hotel in the pretty French market town of Montgatine?

Could this young Comte really be the man she’d lost her heart to twenty-two years ago?

Dusk had fallen by the time they landed. After their passports had been checked, Christian guided her to a black limousine and they headed off to the Institute of Art.

Tricia huddled in a corner of the back seat, staring at Christian, confusion unravelling her thoughts. The highlights in his hair shone guinea gold in contrast to the black trousers and black leather jacket he’d donned for their night foray. He smiled, his green eyes glittering with gold flecks. Instead of taking the far seat, he slid up beside her as the car moved off. “I’m sorry to have upset you. Do you forgive me?”

A tight little laugh burst from her throat. “No! You lied to me.” She’d thought she knew the man she loved but she hadn’t known him at all.

He gave a small resigned nod of understanding. “I did not break up with you because you were immature as I alleged but because I wanted to protect you from the dangers in my life.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not immature now. I’m old enough to be your mother.”

He took one of her hands and gripped it tightly in his warm palm. “Believe me, looks can be deceiving.”

“I’m forty. You were masquerading as twenty-one a few hours ago. That makes me old enough to be your mother.”

“You’d have been a very young mother,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Stop splitting hairs.” She yanked her hand away from him. Despite her protestations, she felt more like an ignorant child. “Why haven’t you aged?”

He angled his head, searching her face for her reaction as he answered. “I do age. My secret is that I can renew myself.”

“Huh? So you’ve discovered an elixir of eternal youth?” Sarcasm edged her words.

“I renew myself with fire, Tricia. The fire inside the crystal pyramid you have at the Institute of Art is the life essence of a man like me. My race was at its most powerful in ancient Egypt. We’re the Sons of Ra.”

His words zapped her befuddled brain to full alert. Her job had taught her a lot about Egyptian history. Ra the sun god was supposed to die every evening when the sun went down only to be reborn when the sun rose again in the morning. His followers had worshipped him in a temple called the Mansion of the Phoenix.

Sun, fire, rebirth.

Her breath trembled. Was Christian telling the truth?

If she believed him, then that meant the transparent pyramid in the Institute’s basement contained the essence of a man. It also meant that the green fire she’d seen in the pyramid in Christian’s room all those years ago had been his life essence. The idea was impossible to comprehend.

Full dark had fallen by the time the limousine drew up outside the Institute. Tricia stepped out into the pool of illumination beneath a street light. Panic caught in her throat as she mounted the steps to the impressive entrance of the Victorian building. She retrieved her keycard from her purse and swiped it before tapping in the access code.

Christian glanced over his shoulder then followed her into the building. The security lights blinked on when they sensed movement. “Make sure you lock this door behind us,” he instructed.

The serious tone of his voice made her pause to stare at him. “Are you expecting some kind of trouble?”

“Let us say it pays to be careful.”

Christian prowled around, his gaze darting down the shadowy side corridors. How had she ever fallen for the story that he was only twenty-one? Everything about him screamed experience and power. He returned to her and placed a hand on her back. “Take me to the ben ben.”

“I need to check in with security first.”

Christian gave a single nod. “I’ll come with you.”

Even the hollow sound of Christian’s footsteps behind her held the ring of authority.

Once the guard had deactivated the alarm system on the basement level, Tricia led Christian down the narrow stairs that had originally been used by domestic staff back in the days when the building had been a private mansion.

“The ben ben didn’t come down these stairs. Is there another way in?” Christian asked.

“The old servant’s entrance gives access at basement level. The doorway’s been enlarged to allow crates to be delivered that way.”

“How are the objects in the basement moved up to the gallery?”

“There’s a service elevator.”

Christian paused at the foot of the stairs to glance around. “Any other exits? Maybe doors that aren’t normally used.”

“There’s a fire door on every floor, leading to the fire escape at the back of the building. Except on this level.”

He gave another of his quick nods. “Show me the ben ben, please.”