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father’s illness, and her voice no longer broke as she shared the news.
    “Yes,” the Earl said vaguely, with all the interest of one looking over yesterday’s newspaper, then turned his attention to his son. “Your mother is in Paris shopping. I’m sure she’ll be sorry to have missed you.”
    “I’m sure she won’t give a damn,” Thorne returned flatly.
    “That’s uncalled-for.” His father’s thin lips disappeared in disapproval. “Why are you here?”
    “I’d like you to contact the museum and have them grant us access to Professor Magee’s artifacts.”
    “To what purpose? This is an odd time to show an interest in Egyptology.” He tucked his fingertips into his jacket pocket like the man in the portrait nearby, as if he were posing for his own portrait.
    Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “Have I ever requested a favor of you? Can’t you just do this because I ask?”
    “They’re preparing to exhibit Magee’s discoveries. They will be available on the ninth of next month. You can see everything then with the rest of the public.”
    Ouch .
    “This is a time-sensitive matter,” Thorne said tightly. “I’ve already spoken to the museum. They won’t grant us full access. You, however, are not only on the board, you’re their biggest sponsor. Make the call.”
    Thorne’s father glanced at Isis. “Forgive me, Miss Magee, but your father has had… issues in the past. His drinking became a serious problem, and his veracity came under question with each preposterous claim. It was only with the help of my public relations people that I was able to smooth the path to this exhibit, and restore some verisimilitude to a career spanning thirty years. I don’t want any adverse publicity to taint the exhibit at this juncture. What do you hope to find?”
    “W—” Connor started to say hotly, but Isis cut them both off.
    “With all due respect, that’s my father you’re talking about.” Isis placed her glass on a spindly table with a sharp click. “We’re asking you to pick up the phone and make one call. If that’s beyond your capabilities, the name Magee still holds some weight. We’ll get what we need with or without you.” Her teeth ground together, and she held on to her temper by a thread. Her response was knee-jerk, probably rude and uncalled-for, but herfather’s situation was already a sore spot for her without this sanctimonious man casting aspersions.
    “The first time you bring a woman home, and she’s not only American, but as uncouth as her father. Congratulations, James. You have once again sunk to meet my low expectation.” If his tone could have gotten any icier, it would have frozen half of England in one go. “I’ll make a phone call. Roberts will see you out. I’ll tell your mother you stopped by.” His expressionless eyes flickered from his son to Isis. “Miss Magee.” The Earl of Kilgetty turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

THREE
    T hat went as well as could be expected,” Thorne muttered wryly, opening the door of the taxi almost before it came to a full stop in front of the house. Isis threw him a hot look before getting inside and slipping silently across the seat. He slid in beside her and gave the driver the address of their hotel.
    “I’d apologize and claim His Lordship wasn’t himself, but that’s exactly who he is, and neither of us makes any pretense otherw—”
    Isis shocked the hell out of him when she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Her lips were moist and warm, slightly parted, and more comforting than lustful. But Thorne had enjoyed that encounter with his father even less than she had, and if she was offering comfort, he wasn’t a man to turn down such an enticing offer.
    Whatever the reason, he hadn’t been the one to make the first move. There was absolution there.
    Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in, angled his head, and feasted on her with deep, greedy kisses, like a drowning man gasping