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A glint of light reflected off a shiny surface inside and a squiggly line of carved snakes appeared beneath Harry’s arm. Adrenaline spiked in his system, sending blood racing to his heart. He’d done it! “William, my friend,” he said in a reverent whisper, “we’ve found the tomb of Vashti, daughter of Azhi, the Devil Shah of ancient Persia.”

“A princess, huh? She was probably daddy’s little girl and completely spoiled. She better be loaded, is all I got to say.” Will leaned his shoulder into the lid and it slid to the side, where it teetered for a moment then fell with a resounding whomp, shaking the sandy floor of the tomb.

“I think we’ve hit pay dirt, Will.” Harry straightened, tossing the pry bar to the ground, excitement bubbling up in his belly at what lay before him. A smile stretched his lips across his face, and he flipped his hat in the air. “Do you realize what we’ve found? Do you have any idea?”

Will stared down at the mummified remains of an ancient woman surrounded by decayed woven baskets and several unscathed decorative bottles. He frowned, his lips twisting in a lopsided grimace. “A mummy and some old bottles?”

Harry laughed, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. “Will, look past the dust and decay. Don’t you see the details in the finely woven gown she’s wearing?. Look here, the embroidery is still intact. These symbols are those of the ancient lovers, Vis and Ramin. See the stone with the carving of a two-headed dragon laying over the mummy’s head?”

“So, it just looks like a big dumb rock, to me.” Will shrugged. “Big deal.”

“William, my man.” Harry draped an arm around Will’s shoulders. “Beneath that layer of dust is the most mystical stone known to man. Kings have fought wars to possess it, but it was lost long ago. Heinrich Schliemann himself couldn’t find proof of its existence.”

Will’s chest puffed out. “But we did it, eh?” He gave Harry a skeptical glance.

“So, why’s it so damn important?”

“Because of the legend.” Will’s lack of enthusiasm irritated Harry. He began to wonder what Will thought he’d been searching for all these months. “The legends say that whomever touches the Stone of Azhi will have great powers. Powers to change the world as we know it. Powers to make every wish come true.”

“My wish right now is for a ten pound steak and a woman to share it with.” Will licked his lips. “Suppose it might be worth something back in the States?”

“It’s priceless-if only for its historical significance. But there are many men who would pay a king’s ransom for its professed magical properties.”
Will leaned over the mummy and reached for a dusty bottle. “I wonder what the bottles are for?”

“Probably contained the princess’s favorite perfumes. Never mind them. It’s the stone we want. No one’s gonna pay for old glass when they can have all that power.”

“Shit, I’ve been three long weeks without the comfort of a woman.” Will waggled his eyebrows. “Does it have the power to grant me a woman?”

Harry was glad Will had finally understood the importance of their find. He slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Why settle for one? You could buy a dozen women with the money we’ll make.”

“Hell, I might even buy you one.”

“No thanks.” Harry lifted a bottle from the collection at the mummy’s feet and brushed the dust from it. The blown glass reflected hues of deep sea green and blue, and was rimmed with gold bands.

“You aren’t still mad about Fiona, are you?”

“Not in the least.” He set the ornate container back in the sarcophagus.

Will lifted another of the glass bottles and tossed it lightly in the air, catching it one-handed. “Good, she’s not your type anyway.”

What was his type? Someone willing to follow him on wild chases across hostile continents? What woman in her right mind, would do that? Harry didn’t know and really wasn’t too interested in finding out. Last one, Fiona, had tried to hem him in with ultimatums.

Had he stayed, he’d have resented her. Leaving her had been the only answer.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a steak the size of Cleveland about now.” Will grabbed for the stone at the same time as Harry.

“Wait, Will. We need to be careful.” What if the legends were true? Could the stone be dangerous? When his fingers felt the smooth points of the two-headed dragon, tingling spread from Harry’s hand up his arm and into his chest. The tingling turned to a burning sensation.

“What the hell?” Will staggered backward, his forehead creasing into a frown. He stared down at his hands and shook them.

The floor trembled and the walls around Harry and Will shook. Dust rose and filled the air until Harry couldn’t see the hand in front of his face, much less his friend. “Will!”

“Harry! What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” Harry’s heart raced and his breathing came in short gasps, his lungs filling with sand. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Will called out.

But the doorway remained shrouded in thick dust.

The burning intensified until Harry felt he’d been seared by the sun. He gagged and choked on the sand rasping against the lining of his throat. Giant stones fell from the walls and ceiling.

What a way to go. Just when he’d discovered the stone of Azhi, he’d die in the mummified arms of the devil king’s daughter.

The dim light from the torches snuffed out and blackness engulfed his tortured body. As if picked up by a tornado, he was jerked off his feet and sucked toward the sarcophagus, spiraling like a puff of smoke filtering through a tiny opening. His body screaming in pain, he could hear Will’s terrified cries echoing his own. Then a loud thump ended the storm, sealing him in darkness.

Harry drifted into oblivion, wondering what the hell had happened.

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He crooked his head, as if to listen. Lifting his nose, he scented the air.

Mara…

A low snarl rumbled in his throat as he took another step forward. The two spotted jaguars behind him stood and came to his call, rubbing up against his slick glistening thighs. Turning his head, he stared straight in front of him as if something or someone lurked there in his path.
His lips twitched and he growled, “I see you.”

Fear invaded her body, while Mara struggled against the ropes binding her wrists and ankles to the two trees. Spread apart in the shape of an X and naked, she felt laid out as if in sacrifice to an ancient god. Which was possible. For whom could the golden-skinned man be but a god?
She’d never seen a man such as him. Long, lean, and darkly sexy. The sight of him naked and glistening with sweat, with the two beasts at his sides took her breath. Despite her fear, she quivered in awe.

He stopped a foot away and scrutinized her with an intense stare. As his gaze traveled from her feet to her head, she had the distinct feeling of being caressed expertly by firm rough fingers. Her fright soon abated, and shivers of pleasure radiated over her body to collide into a ball of heat right at her center.

Mara reasoned she should be afraid and not aroused. Held captive and bound to the trees, with no way of escaping, she was at the mercy of the man in front of her. He could do anything he wanted to her and she couldn’t stop him. Part of her, the primal and unexplained element that raged through her, didn’t want to stop him.

He took another step forward until he stood in front of her. She could smell him. Wild and earthy, like a thunderstorm. Involuntarily, she licked her lips, tasting sweat on her tongue.
Without touching her, he sniffed her skin. Starting with her hair, he worked down to her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered shut as his hot breath on her flesh sent shudders of delight over her. Goose-bumps rose on her skin and her nipples tightened into aching rigid peaks.

When she felt him pull back, she opened her eyes. She watched as his eyes dilated in lust and he licked his lips as if the scent of her had made him hungry. Swallowing down the saliva pooling in her mouth, she gasped when he dropped to his knees.

Desire hearty and hot gathered deep within her sex as he sniffed at her feet and then traveled up her legs. When he neared her knees, she let her head fall back in rapture. He wasn’t touching her, but the mere thought of him doing so sent her spiraling into bliss.

A far corner of her mind whispered to her that she should be scared, that she should scream for help. But the hushed sounds couldn’t be heard over the hammering of her heart and the thundering throb in her sex.

The teasing was driving her insane. She hungered for him to touch her, even wanted to beg him to caress her skin, to trail his tongue over and into her flesh. The scent of her own lust floated to her nose like musk perfume. She was hot and wet, anticipating him to reach her center and feast of her juices.

Mara gasped when she looked down her body and saw him between her legs, gazing at the soft sprinkling of dark hair over her mound. She could feel his hot breath brush over the intimate folds of her flesh. Her clit swelled in response, aching for attention.

Please, she wanted to beg. Please touch me, taste me, take me. But the words would not come. All she could do was moan her encouragement.

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