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As they made their way toward gate security, Chance tried to forget about Gino for a moment and concentrate on Bree. She looked like sin on a stick, and by God he’d have eaten her alive if they’d been alone.

Her dress had a square neckline that revealed enough cleavage to get her anywhere she wanted to go. The hem crested somewhere well above mid-thigh and the sassy print in bold colors accentuated her curves in all the right places. Gino might be a cretin, but he was no liar. With her hair brushed back from her face and spilling over her shoulders, and her long, tanned legs stretching down to a sumptuous pair of strappy shoes, she looked like a celebrity. Chance recognized the tactic. Hide in plain sight. And keep the male population throbbing with dirty thoughts that made them weak kneed and a little stupid.

Yep. It was certainly working on Gino who had fallen behind them, where he had a much better view of Bree’s rear assets.

Chance decided he’d pound the enticing vision of Bree’s swaying hips out of Gino’s memory later. Right now he wanted to get somewhere quiet where he could begin to explain…or rather lie to her convincingly about what was going on.

The next hour passed like Chinese water torture, with the seconds dripping by in agonizing clarity. Step by step they shuffled through the roped off waiting lines like cattle. Bree glared at Chance. Gino opened his mouth a few times to speak, and Chance glared at Gino to shut him up. When they’d made it through the X-ray stalls and survived the hand search of their shoes and Chance’s laptop carrying case without incident, he felt a slight weight lifting from his chest.

Home-free until D.C., when they had to go through it all again.

On the far side of the security lines, the crowds thinned out. Passengers milled around, sipping coffee, playing handheld video games and talking on cell phones. Most of the chairs in the area of their gate were already full of business travelers who slouched behind copies of the New York Times or tapped away at Palm Pilots.

Gino wandered over to the huge windows to gaze out at the departing planes. Chance found it odd that his bodyguard, whose hobby was medieval torture devices, struck up an enthusiastic conversation with a boy of about five who stood by the windows clutching an orange teddy bear and a juice box. A meeting of intellects, Chance supposed.

At least he was finally alone with Bree. He led her to a bank of empty seats near the causeway door and motioned for her to sit.

“Before you say anything, I’m not falling for the old bait and switch routine, MacKenzie. I’m not letting go of this knapsack under any circumstances. I’ve got caffeine pills in my bag, and I won’t sleep or blink until we reach Cairo.” She bombarded him the moment her sumptuous fanny touched the vinyl seat cushion. He had no choice but to smile at her astuteness.

“Ah, sweetheart. I’m not trying to play you.”

“Bull.”

He glanced at Gino, who seemed to be extolling the virtues of in-flight meal service to his diminutive audience. “I bought this to throw Gino off the trail later on, not you.”

The look in her eyes said she didn’t buy it. He wouldn’t have expected her to.

“What’s the deal with him anyway?” She crossed her legs at the knee, revealing enough thigh to distract Chance from any thought of Gino—and to make him a little jealous. The place was crawling with businessmen, more than a few of whom had already cast appreciative glances at Bree when she’d sashayed by them.

“Gino was assigned to help me retrieve the jar.”

“Assigned by whom?”

“Not important right now. Let’s just—”

“Yes, it is important. What are you involved in? The jar is a national treasure, a priceless antiquity that belongs in Egypt. I’ve been hired to bring it back to the temple that Chen’s sons stole it from. Anyone else is just looking to make a profit from selling it.”

Just as talkative as ever, Chance thought. When they were together he rarely got a word in, and often had to resort to kissing her senseless if he wanted her quiet long enough to listen to him. He opened his mouth to reply, and true to form, she continued on, plowing over him, her voice hushed but firm.

“I don’t know what game you’ve got going, but I know you’re on the wrong side of this. Your friend over there is proof enough of that. I’m not letting you have the jar…and quit calling me sweetheart. I’m not your sweetheart anymore.”

“Right. Sorry.” Chance leaned back, stung by the vehemence of her words and the no-nonsense edge in her voice. Though she looked exactly as he remembered her—more beautiful, if that were possible—the hard glint in her eyes showed that she’d aged a lifetime since they parted. He hated that he’d done that to her, but he couldn’t take it back.

“I don’t want apologies. It’s too late for—”

Chance held up a hand, halting her diatribe. “I didn’t pull this little stunt just so I could apologize.”

That hurt. He watched her eyes go steely. Regardless, he pressed on. “This isn’t about you and me. I have to get that jar to my client in Cairo who happens to be threatening to kill a friend of mine if I don’t cooperate. My client isn’t the rightful owner of anything. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about national treasures or priceless antiquities. To him, everything has a price. I don’t like what I’ve got to do, but I don’t have a choice at the moment. The fact that you’re involved makes my job a hell of a lot harder.”

“Is it someone I know? Your friend?”

The question surprised him. Had he gotten through the tough outer shell she’d grown without actually having to lie? “An Egyptologist named Sam Mallory.”

“And Gino is insurance?” She looked skeptical, and Chance didn’t blame her. He’d wondered about Gino’s abilities too, until he saw the man murder one of Garadeshi’s lackeys with gleeful precision. Gino didn’t need weapons to hurt people, but he enjoyed using them when he didn’t want to get his hands dirty.

“Trust me when I say there’s more to Gino than meets the eye. Right now if I do anything he doesn’t like, he can make one phone call and get Dr. Mallory killed.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

So much, he thought. The truth would only draw her in too deep, just like last time when he’d thought the only way to protect her from his enemies was to turn her into one of them. “I’ve told you all I can. You can still walk out of here. Give me the jar and go. I can make it financially worth your while.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes even deeper than before. He’d truly insulted her this time.

“What makes you think my only motivation is money?”

He smirked. “You’re morally committed to restoring Egypt’s lost national artifacts?”

“What if I am?” Her eyes held a challenge, but her voice hitched. Clearly, she was holding something back as well.

“I’d say good for you. You can rest assured knowing the Soul Jar will be back in Egypt in less than a day and it will remain there forever.”

“Yes, because I'm going to deliver it.”

“Bree…”

Her eyes clouded over for a moment. Each time he said her name she seemed to melt a little. Knowing he still had some effect on her feelings restored a portion of the dead part of his heart. In time maybe he could find the woman he loved again, the woman he’d been forced to throw away.

“I don’t trust you, MacKenzie. I hope I don’t have to explain why.”

No. She didn’t. He’d never expected it to be easy, but they still had almost a full day of travel time during which he planned to turn the tide in his favor.

“I’m not asking you to trust me, luv. Trust yourself. You can see this is a bad deal.” He nodded toward Gino who now stood alone by the windows, his diminutive acquaintance having wandered back to parental safety. “Trust your instincts. I know that little voice in the back of your head is telling you to get out now while you still can.”

Bree jiggled her leg impatiently, her lips pursed in contemplation. “I only trust facts these days. My instincts certainly didn’t do me any good the last time we were together, did they?”

Chance rose from his chair, unable to meet her eyes. “No. I guess I can’t argue that, luv. You should have known better than to get involved with a guy like me.”

“Trust this, MacKenzie. I won’t make that mistake again.”