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B RIAN WAS HIGH ATOP ONE of the tiers with Hunter, watching as the Italian guides brought their caches of tourists about, when he asked, “Do you seriously think that there is far more than meets the eye going on here?”

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know. It would be quite bizarre. I can’t imagine any reason that someone should want David Turnberry dead. But if it is so, would it likely be one of us? Still, Camille’s map did disappear. I can’t imagine that the map would do anyone any good if they weren’t actually out in the desert.” He shook his head. “And now, I’m afraid, everyone will know that Kat has managed to make a reproduction of it; the young men arrived this evening after she had been working, and they have all seen it. But to think that there is really something afoot here boggles the imagination.”

“Mmm,” Brian murmured. “I was speaking with Lavinia earlier, and she is really quite fascinating.”

“Oh, she’s a pip! But what does my dear great-aunt have to do with any of this? The only real possibility of anyone wanting anyone out of the way would be Lady Daws—she’d be glad to be rid herself of Lord Alfred. But she isn’t with us. And there’s been nothing in the years past to suggest that she might actually be a murderess. Besides, it’s David being targeted, apparently. Where do we look? Lord Avery? Doubtful. Margaret? More than doubtful.”

“I think that perhaps we should talk more with Lavinia. She knows everyone and everything,” Brian said. “And she was telling me that it was, indeed, the scandal of the year when Isabella became Lady Daws. There were those who thought that she drugged the man to get him to marry her. And there were those, as well, who claimed that she had been his mistress for years, that she had known him before he married his first wife.”

“But how would that put David Turnberry in danger?” Hunter said. “I see no logic.”

“There must be logic somewhere. We simply haven’t figured it out yet.”

“If there is anything to figure out,” Hunter reminded him.

It was then that they heard the scream.

“Kat!” Hunter cried, recognizing her voice immediately—and hearing the panic and desperation in it.

He began to run.

K AT AND D AVID TUMBLED over and over, and at last crashed into the wall at the base of the incline. He was on top of her, terror in his eyes.

But they were alive. And because they had rolled, rather than pitching straight down, they were mussed and bruised, but they were not, thank God, broken.

“Kat!” David held on to her, shaking.

He was heavy, pressing her down. And, surely, they made a less-than-innocent picture.

“David, off, please!” she begged, certain that her scream must have alerted the others. It had, indeed. Footsteps sounded above them.

Reaching the incline first, Camille called out a startled “Oh!” And came to a dead standstill.

Brian swept by his wife, carefully bending to walk down the steep incline, followed by Hunter. Luckily, Brian arrived first. He helped David up, and Hunter was free to grasp Kat’s hands and pull her to her feet. She didn’t at all like the look in his eyes when they met hers, but to his credit his first words were, “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“What in God’s name happened?” Brian demanded.

“A stone fell,” Kat explained.

“Where were you when it fell?”

She pointed. The stone had broken into many pieces.

“We’ll return to the hotel immediately,” Hunter said.

“But there’s so much more to see!” Kat protested.

Brian was already helping David up to the walkway. Hunter shook his head at Kat and said, “Not for you.”

“But…”

Her protest was to no avail. She wasn’t sure that her feet were on the ground at all as he brought her up to the walkway. Camille and Margaret made quite a fuss over her. Lavinia studied her and the structure where they had been, and the fallen stone. “How very, very odd!” she said.

“We’ll be returning to the hotel,” Hunter said flatly.

“Hunter, please,” Kat said. “We have such a short time here. There are so many more wonders to behold.”

“They’re hard to behold at night, and it’s nearly dark,” Hunter said curtly.

“Perhaps the others would like to continue sightseeing,” Kat suggested.

Again to no avail.

“Oh, there’s been quite enough excitement for the day!” Margaret pointed out. She was at David’s side, briskly slapping dust from his clothing. “Are you really both quite all right?” she asked anxiously.

“Fine,” Kat said.

“Ever so slightly sore!” David said, offering Margaret one of his sweet smiles. Kat lowered her head, biting her lips.

He certainly knew how and when to smile, and just how to appear courageous and wounded at the same time.

“I have certainly had enough for the afternoon,” Lavinia remarked. “But then again, children, I have seen these wonders many times. The world is such a truly magnificent place. Truly, I think that more travel should be required of children.”

“Not all children can afford to travel, Vinnie,” Lord Avery said, shaking his head.

“Then you should arrange for more to do so, Jagger!” Lavinia retorted.

“We can argue all night,” Hunter said. “Kat needs to return to the hotel.”

“We shall all go, and that is that!” Brian said. “Any objections?”

“Let’s all go back together,” Robert Stewart said. “Maybe we university men will step out on our own a bit later. Find Professor Atworthy—he’s supposed to be out sketching somewhere.”

“He won’t be sketching in the dark,” Hunter said.

“I believe he means that we free young gentlemen should do a bit of cutting up,” Allan said, clearing his throat and laughing.

“You young gentlemen do as you wish!” Margaret told him. “I’m going to see to it that poor David has a lovely dinner and then is off to bed.”

Kat caught a glance that David cast Allan’s way.

There was a smug look of triumph to it. Something inside her made a little thud. She realized that she was coming to know him far better than she had dared hoped.

And that she was not at all sure she liked what she was learning. Still, she couldn’t help but be worried for him.

“Let’s move,” Hunter said.

Minutes later they were back in the carriages. Back at the hotel, Emma, who had not been interested in the wonders of Rome, met them in the hallway and was aghast at the dust covering Kat. She took her under her wing, and once again, Kat had the luxury of a long soak in the bath. Emma’s perfumed body salts smelled divine, and the suds were soft and luxurious on her flesh. She had to admit that the hot water felt wonderful, and that it did soothe the soreness in her muscles.

When she emerged, Emma was there, clucking with concern, ready to wrap her in a soft and elegant velvet robe. “Now, I’ve had a nice supper brought up for you, and after you have eaten, I want you to get some rest! Goodness, excitement does seem to follow you!” Emma declared, and left her.

After she had finished the delicious supper of pasta and veal, Kat lay down on the bed, but she hadn’t the least desire to rest. She got up, still wearing the robe, paced the room a bit, nervous, wondering what Hunter thought, then she grew angry, aware that she had done nothing wrong, and she carefully cracked open the door that separated her room from the parlor and Hunter’s quarters.

He was there, staring into the fire, sipping a brandy. He glanced up at her instantly. “Were you hoping I wasn’t here?” he queried.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, you opened the door. Come in.”

“I think not.”

“Are you now afraid of me?”

“No. I’m not afraid of you—or anyone.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Afraid of you?”

He smiled slightly. “Maybe.”

She stepped into the parlor, closing the door to her room behind her.

“Well, then,” she said lightly, “let’s have it out. With you, it seems, I am always at fault somehow.”

“At fault? We had an agreement,” he told her sharply.

“It was an accident!”

“Yes, but it’s curious that you were involved in it.”

She strode over to him. “I was exploring the ruin, and that was all.”

“With David?” he asked politely.

“We were all at the ruins together.”

“Odd, how you managed to be at the same place as he was.”

“I was not arm in arm with him!”

“But you did just happen to be together.”

“Yes! We just happened to be there together.”

“Ah. And then a stone fell,” Hunter said skeptically. “And once again, you were there, to rescue the love of your life. Or vice versa. And you managed to tumble to safety in each other’s arms.”

She ignored his tone as a sudden realization filled her. She gasped. Only just now did she see how close either she or David or both had come to dying.

She clutched Hunter’s arm. “No…no! Stones don’t just fall. Hunter, don’t you see? I was right. David Turnberry is in danger!”

Hunter snorted with disgust, pulling his arm from her hold.

“Hunter, I am telling you—”

“Oh, yes, you’ve fallen out of your blind and absolute adoration for the man, and we’re merely on a quest to keep him alive!”

She stared at him. “Think what you like!”

“He is still harboring delusions that you will sleep with him, become his mistress.”

She kept silent for a moment, staring at him. He was definitely in a mood. And she surely did not want him finding out that he was very near the truth.

“You’re not being at all cordial and I don’t believe I care to speak with you anymore this evening,” she told him.

She turned to walk back to her room. He caught her by the arm, swinging her hard against him, his grip firm on her arm, the length of her body pressed tightly to his. There was serious menace in his eyes, and a heated energy in his frame that seemed almost combustible.

“You don’t care to speak to me?”

“Hunter…please!”

“How much of a fool do you take me for?” he demanded.

“Why must you ever assume the worst of me?” she cried in return.

“Because you are ready to sell yourself, body and soul, to a young fool who wouldn’t know what to do with you if he had you!”

“Well, Sir Hunter, everyone cannot have your vast experience in life and love!” she mocked angrily.

“Perhaps it’s not so much a matter of experience as it is a simple matter of real desire and passion in life,” he returned.

“Ah, yes, you know life. There is no indecision for you, no uncertainty. There is nothing for you to fear, for your life is your own! There are not parents, loved ones, those who hold a hand in your future.”

“The future, for any of us, is what we are willing to make of it!”

“Easy for you to say, and easy for you to do!”

“Easy? I had not his life of luxury. I was lucky to get into the queen’s forces as an officer, and lucky to fight and survive, and indeed, yes, make of my life what I would!”

“With a princess for an aunt,” she mocked.

“And you came from such a bitter place? A father who worked that you and your sister might do well?”

“That is no reason to mock David so!” she defended.

“Don’t you see yet that you don’t want him?”

“And I should want you?” she cried. Whatever anger or frustration was ruling her, she did not know. She sought only to make him understand, yet what, exactly, it was that she wanted him to understand, she wasn’t entirely sure. She meant to be mocking only, to touch him, withdraw, to tell him that he was the only man a woman could want. “You!” she said scornfully again, and pressed herself harder against him, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

At the very least, she took him completely by surprise.

But if she meant to play a dangerous game, he was willing to pick up the gauntlet.

She had begun the taunting kiss. He would see it through.

She had pressed herself against him; he put an arm around her back, fingers splaying across her spine. His left hand cupped the base of her skull, fingertips spread wide and caressing above her nape. His lips forced hers open, and when his tongue invaded the tender recesses of her mouth, it was as if a volcano had erupted within her, and she near melted with the heat. Her limbs seemed to grow weak, and she knew that what she had started was no longer something within her control at all, and that it should be stopped, had to be stopped….

Yet his tongue seemed to thrust deep into the core and essence of her being, and stopping was an impossibility.

And his hands were moving. She was still caught to his hard body, but his fingers caressed the length of her hair, teased along her shoulders, stroked her collarbone beneath the neckline of the robe. Brushed her flesh. A touch so light, she ached to feel it further, to know it better.

The robe parted, and the touch, so gentle, grew bolder, yet still at such a subtle tease that she ached to feel more of it. Then his fingers rounded over the swell of her breast, and thumbs played erotically on her nipples before he cupped the weight of them again. She was barely aware when his lips left hers, when they followed the trail of magic down her throat, pressed at her collarbone, formed over her breast, above and below, so erotic, his tongue then taunting, teasing, playing, where his fingertips had tread so lightly.

She gasped softly, fingers digging into his arms, body trembling throughout its length. She wasn’t sure when the robe fell away, and she was barely aware that she was standing naked, that he had lowered himself, that his hands molded her buttocks and that his kiss then teased the flesh of her abdomen.

She could scarcely stand. It was an intoxication she had never imagined, never expected, and it felt simply as if she were on fire, seething….

And then, abruptly, he stood, bringing her robe with him and setting it loosely around her shoulders. “Miss Adair, either I am a better lover, or…”

It was the tone of the or. The implication. She flushed with humiliation, not even the great Hunter MacDonald could respond swiftly enough to stop her hand.

The slap of its impact against his cheek was loud, seeming to echo between them. He arched a brow.

“Since you do seem to run into the Right Honorable David Turnberry and accidents of the absurd at every turn,” he said, “I believe you should stay in tonight—my dear. ” And he left her standing there by the mantel, the luxurious robe that had given her such pleasure falling off her shoulders.

H IS BONES SEEMED TO HURT , his blood to boil, his muscles to burn, and there was nothing else to do but leave, escape, run away as fast as he could. He was furious with himself, furious with her, and so knotted and torn within that he was certain he would shortly explode.

He walked out to the street, down the Via Veneto, then walked and walked, and the next thing he knew, he was at the Spanish Steps. And he still kept walking.

At the next piazza, he noticed that one of the old, beautiful churches had a sign out front. “St. Philip’s High Episcopal Church.”

Interesting, he mused. The hordes of Englishmen and Americans had brought one Anglican house of worship to the very place of the pope’s stronghold. As he walked by, a priest came hurrying out, preoccupied. He walked into Hunter.

“Scusi, scusi!”

“It’s all right, Father.”

The priest looked at him, frowned. “An Englishman.”

“Yes.”

“And you look in need of guidance.”

Hunter shook his head. “I’m afraid guidance is not what I need at this moment.”

The priest cocked his head. “You’re Sir Hunter MacDonald.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve seen your picture in the papers. On your way to Egypt, are you, sir?”

“Yes.”

“You look heavy laden. Confession is good for the soul, even though we be Anglicans.”

“I think not, but I appreciate the offer.”

The fellow offered his hand. “Father Philbin. Should you need anything, the rectory is the old building there.” He pointed. “Say, even if you just wish a good pot of English tea, don’t hesitate.”

“Thank you, Father,” Hunter said, and moved on. He was certain that in his current surly mood, no priest would want to hear anything he had to say. His long strides ate up the distance. Finally, at last, he stopped at a café, ordered a drink and took a seat at one of the sidewalk tables.

He had gone mad, he thought. He had simply gone mad. And now, with his blood cooling, he turned a bitter smile on himself. The situation with Kat was, truly, no less than he deserved, and if he was a madman now, well, the madness had begun the first moment he had seen her, and the insanity had grown slowly on a daily basis, especially since he had decided that he would give her every opportunity to go after what she wanted…

And what she wanted wasn’t him. But she was as passionate and fierce as her fiery hair promised, and he could have completed what he’d started, seduced her, had all that he desired and won the game he hadn’t even realized that he was playing.

And been no better than the college boys he mocked.

“Senor?”

He looked up. Ah, one of Rome’s illustrious ladies of the night. More courtesan than prostitute, for she was elegantly dressed and her jewels looked real. She was young, he thought, but practiced. “ Per piacere…Oh! Mi dispiace —you are Inglese!”

He nodded. How easy to smile, he thought, purchase drinks, bargain delicately and with innuendo, as one did with such a creature. How easy to drown oneself in alcohol, walk into the darkness, where one could with the mind’s eye only.

“Yes, an Englishman, signorina. ”

She pouted, made the usual pretense at respectability. “I’m awaiting a friend. I thought I might join you at your table as I do so.” Her eyes were endlessly dark, her hair lustrous, her lips colored a pure bloodred. She smiled, a pleasant smile, assessing him all the while, he thought, and determining that he would not be a bad trick at all, for he was assuredly with funds and possessed of all his teeth.

For a moment, he entertained the idea. Good God, if only not to feel so wretchedly frustrated!

But then something caused him to shake his head. “I should be happy to buy you a drink, and most assuredly, the table is yours. But I’m afraid I have to be going.”

He rose, signaling to the waiter, drawing bills from his wallet.

“Must you leave, truly?” she implored.

Darkness would do him no good, he thought. Nothing could still what lay behind the facade.

“Yes, I must go,” he said. He left the money and began his walk back. A long one, but reflexive.

The hotel was quiet when he returned, and he realized that the hour was very late. Nevertheless, he tapped on her door, ready to apologize.

The door swung open. She was clad to the throat in the most virginal nightgown imaginable, and over it was a concealing cotton robe.

“What?” she said.

“We’ll be boarding the train around ten in the morning.”

“I’m quite aware of that.”

“As long as you are aware.”

She closed the door in his face. He took a deep breath, tapped again.

The door flew open.

“I need to say—”

“No!” She was clearly furious. “There’s nothing you need to say that I care to hear. You are the most despicable excuse for a human being ever to crawl up from the slime, and I loathe you, do you understand? The engagement can be off as of tomorrow!”

She was ready to slam the door again. He caught her arm, backing her into the room. Despite his plan to be a gentleman, he was glad at the alarm he saw in her eyes.

“No. I entered into this fiasco of a charade because you appeared in my bedroom—pleading! It does not end, and you will cope with what has occurred and learn from it!”

She glared at him, jaw locked, struggling to wrench free her arm.

It was then that he felt something odd, something that seemed to move over his feet. He went rigid, hardly daring to breathe.

“I—” she began.

“Shh!” he warned.

“But—”

“Stop, don’t move. I beg of you.”

He didn’t look down. He simply knew.

It had passed him and was moving toward her. Her ankles and feet were bare.

She felt it when it touched her. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted just slightly. And she locked gazes with Hunter, fighting the urge to scream.

“Still,” he mouthed. “Be still.”

And so she was. Seconds seemed like eons.

She mouthed a single word to him, a question. “Snake?”

He nodded.

She swallowed hard, her eyes locked with his. Waiting.

More eons passed. And then, from the corner of his eyes, he could see the creature, slithering on across the room. He caught her up, swung her round, and made her stand on a chair. Then he strode toward the snake.

Snakes were certainly some of the quickest creatures he had come across in his life, but at least he had come to know them well. His feet were encased in leather, and he dared to slam his foot down hard right behind the head of the creature. He did so with all his weight and strength; a snake was powerful, sheer muscle, and if he didn’t strike properly…

But he had. The creature couldn’t rise, couldn’t flare. It tried to open its jaw for an attack. The mouth worked. The eyes glazed. But then it died, the jaws still attempting to part.

“Oh!” He heard the expulsion of her breath.

She was about to climb down off the chair when he ordered, “No! Stay right there!” Silently, she obeyed.

Then, methodically, foot by foot, he went through the room. He tore through the bath things, towels, linens, soaps. At last, satisfied, he extended a hand to help her down from the chair, then they sat together on the foot of the bed. He didn’t touch her.

She nodded to the place across the room. “It’s…a cobra?” she asked. “But…we’re still in Rome. Do they have such creatures here?”

He looked up at her. “No.”

“Then…” Her voice faded. After a moment she said, “Brian Stirling’s parents…were killed by asps, weren’t they?”

She was trying very hard to sound matter-of-fact. There was a tremor in her voice nonetheless.

“Yes.”

“But…the killer was discovered.”

“Yes.”

“So…you think that someone might be trying to…kill me? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

There was suddenly a firm knock at the door. Hunter got up, walked to open it.

In nightcap and robe, Lord Avery stood there, managing to look dignified and outraged despite his attire.

“Sir Hunter!” he said, his tone regal in its condemnation. “This, sir, this, I will not allow! The child’s father has entrusted her to my care. You may have announced an engagement, sir, but that gives you no right—”

“Lord Avery, there was a snake in the room,” Hunter explained.

“Bah! There are no snakes in such a fine hotel. Besides, this is Rome, not Cairo!”

Hunter walked over to the corpse of the asp, picked it up gingerly and presented it to Lord Avery. Lord Avery paled. “It…it should not be here,” he sputtered.

“No,” Hunter agreed.

“Why, Brian’s father and mother…”

“Yes,” Hunter said. “Lord Avery, I would deeply appreciate that you do not mention this to anyone.”

“Sir Hunter! The only way a snake could have been in this room…”

“Yes.”

“Then the girl is in danger!”

“I rather believe that,” Hunter said.

“Excuse me!” Kat said softly. “I am here, and I am not deaf!”

Lord Avery turned to stare at Kat. “Forgive me, my dear.” Then he looked at Hunter again. Lord Avery was simply not from a generation when young women made decisions on their own. “She must be sent packing on the first train home.”

“No!” Kat protested.

Hunter didn’t so much as look her way. He smiled at Lord Avery. “Let’s sleep on it, shall we?” he asked. “There is little we can do right now.”

“We should be calling the police!”

Hunter shook his head. “The police will not be able to solve this, and we both know it. There is nothing more we can do tonight.”

“The situation must be handled,” Lord Avery insisted.

“And so it shall be,” Hunter promised.

At last, Lord Avery harrumphed and went out into the hall. Hunter closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, then straightened. “Get dressed,” he told Kat.

“Get dressed? But it’s the middle of the night!” she said. “And…and I can’t go home. Really. Please. I have to see this through.”

“God knows, you’re so charming to me, I’m sure I would cry every day if you left,” he murmured dryly.

“I…oh, I can’t say I’m sorry! You were wretched.”

“Be that as it may, how far are you willing to go to stay on this expedition?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you really ready to sell your soul?” he asked softly.

“But…I can’t go home. I must go forward.”

“Then you’ll have to be willing to do as I say,” he told her flatly. “So get dressed. I’ll be back.”

He left her room, then strode down the hall, hesitating before knocking at the door to Brian’s suite. A few moments later, obviously awakened from a deep sleep, Brian answered.

“What is it?” he heard Camille ask sleepily from the bed.

Hunter looked straight at Brian. “There was a snake in Kat’s room.”

Brian stiffened as if he had turned to stone. Hunter saw the dark fury that crossed his face.

But Brian was controlled, exhaling on a long breath. “So. It begins again.”

“I think it began before we left.”

“The girl is so vulnerable!” Brian said softly. “Do you have a plan?”

“Well, not really a plan. But I believe there is something I can do. And I need your help.”

Camille, hair wild about her lovely face, was at Brian’s side then, wrapped in a robe. “We are ever here, Hunter, when you need us.”

“I’m afraid it entails getting dressed and going out.”

“Whatever for?” Camille asked.

“I believe I know,” Brian murmured.

“Excuse me, then,” Hunter said. “I have a lot of things to do with very little time.” And he hurried away to make the necessary arrangements.