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She dimpled at me and with one last look at Mr. Hayes, she darted after her father, tucking her handgun within her skirt pocket.

“You can all resume your work,” Mr. Hayes said to the remaining spectators.

The crew dispersed. He slicked his dripping hair off his face. With a sudden look of alarm, he began patting down his pants and then muttered a low curse. I almost didn’t hear it, my gaze locked on the wet fabric clinging to the sharp lines of muscle delineating the flat plane of his stomach. The wet cotton of his trousers clung to his muscled thighs. He might as well have been naked.

I forced my gaze away, my head oddly swimming. “Did you lose something?”

“My brother’s flask. He was very fond of it.”

Another crocodile most likely had it now. “Probably for the best.”

He glowered at me and then began working the knot at my waist, hiswarm fingers brushing against me. Warmth pooled in my belly, flushed my cheeks. My mouth went dry, dryer than the golden sands surrounding us. He dipped his chin, focused on the knot, his face inches from mine. His blue eyes were lined with dark lashes, spiky with wet. A warm flush danced across my skin and I shivered. Mr. Hayes paused, raised his eyes to meet mine. It annoyed me that I found him handsome when I couldn’t trust him. I bit my lip, and he tracked the movement, his eyelids lowering to half-mast.

Mr. Hayes’s expression softened, his gaze warm. “Are you really all right?”

The tender concern in his tone was like sipping something hot. We stared at each other, my breath catching at the back of my throat. Dimly, I was aware that I was dancing too close to the edge. One misstep, and I’d find myself on unfamiliar ground.

Mr. Hayes cleared his throat and glanced down, attention back on the rope. “This is quite an ensemble,” he said mildly, voice neutral. “Acquire it recently?”

“I had an extra tunic lying around in my luggage. Seemed a waste not to use it.”

He yanked on the rope, and it fell away. A dangerous gleam lurked in his blue gaze. “You’re sunburned. Where the hell is your hat?”

“I was wearing one.”

“You were wearing a fez before you went over, which doesn’t offer even the littlest bit of protection from the rays. The sun can be murderous at this time of day.”

“My other one didn’t go with my outfit,” I said. “I had to have a practical disguise.”

“My God, itwasyou,” he said in a marveling tone. “Serving us dinner. I thought I smelled vanilla.”

“What?”

“Your soap,” he said, imperturbably. “I ought to have known. But I thought it impossible…”

“You really ought to pay better attention to your instincts. They won’t lead you astray.”

Mr. Hayes flinched as if I’d struck him. He abruptly took a step back.

“What is it?”

He shook his head and smiled, but it wasn’t one of his real ones. This one was hardened, made of stone. “Come with me, Señorita Olivera.”

“No, I’d rather not. Gracias.” I gestured to my dripping clothes. “I really ought to change.”

He eased one elbow onto the rail and regarded me coolly. “You have to face your uncle at some point.”

I bent down and wrung the hem of the long tunic. “I will when I’m ready. What about a few days from now?”

Mr. Hayes gave a short laugh. “What makes you think he won’t find you before then?”

Fear skittered down my spine. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how badly I needed an ally. I didn’t trust Mr. Hayes in the slightest, but he’d jumped into the Nile after me, even after he spotted the danger. I didn’t want to face my uncle alone. “Will you stay with me?”

Mr. Hayes narrowed his gaze. He assessed my face, seeing what I desperately tried to hide. “What are you nervous about?”

“He’ll be furious. It would help if you took my side.”

He looked appalled. “Absolutely not.”