bounced off every side of the glass container. He picked up the jar and slammed it down, stunning the little fiend.
America tilted her head and leaned closer. “Port Said, in the bazaars. I have seen bejeweled gold pieces for sale with this image. Powerful amulets.” She tilted the jar for a better look.
He stared. “Egyptian?”
She nodded and sat back to sip her tea.
“Keep the kettle hot.” He sprang out of the chair and paused. “And could you possibly make some of those buns of yours, Miss Jones?”
She steeped a second pot and set about making a bit of breakfast. When her employer returned from upstairs, he carried under his arm a number of tomes on Ancient Egypt borrowed from Mrs. Parker’s library. Combing through the illustrated books, they were able to decipher the symbology of the eye of Horus.
Mr. Black sliced through a rasher of bacon. “Horus’ eye was shattered into six pieces, each representing one of the senses ...”
As he read, America opened the last book in the stack. After a brief perusal of the illustrations, heat rushed from her belly to her cheeks. She clapped the book shut.
Her employer popped a last morsel of buttered bun into his mouth. The man could grin and chew at the same time. “Mrs. Parker has quite a collection of erotica. I brought that down for you, Miss Jones. ’Tis your reward for recognizing this Egyptian Horus fellow.”
Damn the man for smiling that twinkly grin at her. She bit back a flirtatious repartee.
“A reward for me, Mr. Black. Are you quite sure? The book is filled with lewd pictures. I have no interest in pornography.”
“Then perhaps, you might consider another reward.” He studied her, anticipating, assessing her interest in his next offer. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a card. “Yesterday morning, I had a brief discussion with this gentleman at headquarters.”
The calling card stated Metropolitan Police, Scotland Yard, 4 Whitehall Place, and the name Dexter Ambrose Moore.
“It seems Dex is working on a case involving an outbreak of unusual thievery. Merchant ships, stolen by pirates, of all things.” He winked.
America sprung to her feet and kissed his neck and cheek. He turned his face toward the warmth of her lips. “No need to wire. He will be expecting a Miss Jones.”
She held the card close against her bosom. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Black.”
“You have the afternoon off.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Run along, then. I am perfectly capable of washing a few breakfast dishes.”
She emerged from her room wearing a pretty dress and coat, which caused him to turn away from his chores and stare.
“Very charming.”
“Borrowed from Lizzie. I sat a few hours with her yesterday, at her bedside. Mrs. Parker says she is greatly improved.”
He soaped a teacup. “I don’t recall that chore on your list.”
“You specifically stated ...” America lifted her apron off the chair back and found the folded note paper. “Right here, Mr. Black. ‘If you complete this list, do not hesitate to be of service to Mrs. Parker.’ ” She could not ignore the stack of dripping dishes. “Would you like me to finish up or may I leave now?”
“Watch yourself around Dexter Moore,” he grumbled. “Comes off as quite the proper gentleman, but I have witnessed a kind of rampant sexual athleticism ...” Phaeton clamped his mouth his shut. “Just be warned.”
She nodded a quick curtsy.
“And, Miss Jones.”
She turned back. “Yes, Mr. Black.”
Drying his hands with a dishcloth, he circled around her. “In the next day or two, I expect you to pick out one of the delightful poses from the Kama Sutra, and I shall endeavor to please you.” He leaned over her shoulder and kissed the exact spot on her neck that made her shiver.
Chapter Nine
A MERICA ENTERED AN OFFICE THAT CONTAINED TWO DESKS .
The secretary nodded to a chair. “On the left, Miss. Agent Moore will be here shortly.”
She took a
America tilted her head and leaned closer. “Port Said, in the bazaars. I have seen bejeweled gold pieces for sale with this image. Powerful amulets.” She tilted the jar for a better look.
He stared. “Egyptian?”
She nodded and sat back to sip her tea.
“Keep the kettle hot.” He sprang out of the chair and paused. “And could you possibly make some of those buns of yours, Miss Jones?”
She steeped a second pot and set about making a bit of breakfast. When her employer returned from upstairs, he carried under his arm a number of tomes on Ancient Egypt borrowed from Mrs. Parker’s library. Combing through the illustrated books, they were able to decipher the symbology of the eye of Horus.
Mr. Black sliced through a rasher of bacon. “Horus’ eye was shattered into six pieces, each representing one of the senses ...”
As he read, America opened the last book in the stack. After a brief perusal of the illustrations, heat rushed from her belly to her cheeks. She clapped the book shut.
Her employer popped a last morsel of buttered bun into his mouth. The man could grin and chew at the same time. “Mrs. Parker has quite a collection of erotica. I brought that down for you, Miss Jones. ’Tis your reward for recognizing this Egyptian Horus fellow.”
Damn the man for smiling that twinkly grin at her. She bit back a flirtatious repartee.
“A reward for me, Mr. Black. Are you quite sure? The book is filled with lewd pictures. I have no interest in pornography.”
“Then perhaps, you might consider another reward.” He studied her, anticipating, assessing her interest in his next offer. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a card. “Yesterday morning, I had a brief discussion with this gentleman at headquarters.”
The calling card stated Metropolitan Police, Scotland Yard, 4 Whitehall Place, and the name Dexter Ambrose Moore.
“It seems Dex is working on a case involving an outbreak of unusual thievery. Merchant ships, stolen by pirates, of all things.” He winked.
America sprung to her feet and kissed his neck and cheek. He turned his face toward the warmth of her lips. “No need to wire. He will be expecting a Miss Jones.”
She held the card close against her bosom. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Black.”
“You have the afternoon off.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Run along, then. I am perfectly capable of washing a few breakfast dishes.”
She emerged from her room wearing a pretty dress and coat, which caused him to turn away from his chores and stare.
“Very charming.”
“Borrowed from Lizzie. I sat a few hours with her yesterday, at her bedside. Mrs. Parker says she is greatly improved.”
He soaped a teacup. “I don’t recall that chore on your list.”
“You specifically stated ...” America lifted her apron off the chair back and found the folded note paper. “Right here, Mr. Black. ‘If you complete this list, do not hesitate to be of service to Mrs. Parker.’ ” She could not ignore the stack of dripping dishes. “Would you like me to finish up or may I leave now?”
“Watch yourself around Dexter Moore,” he grumbled. “Comes off as quite the proper gentleman, but I have witnessed a kind of rampant sexual athleticism ...” Phaeton clamped his mouth his shut. “Just be warned.”
She nodded a quick curtsy.
“And, Miss Jones.”
She turned back. “Yes, Mr. Black.”
Drying his hands with a dishcloth, he circled around her. “In the next day or two, I expect you to pick out one of the delightful poses from the Kama Sutra, and I shall endeavor to please you.” He leaned over her shoulder and kissed the exact spot on her neck that made her shiver.
Chapter Nine
A MERICA ENTERED AN OFFICE THAT CONTAINED TWO DESKS .
The secretary nodded to a chair. “On the left, Miss. Agent Moore will be here shortly.”
She took a
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