“Si vis pacem, para bellum,” she muttered as she tugged sharply on the green fabric of her gown, meeting her own angry hazel glare through the mirror.
If you want peace, prepare for war.
Pivoting from the glass, she shoved out of the room half-blind with frustration—and ran directly into someone who was passing by.
Her human obstacle stumbled back a step as Ellie bounced off him.
“Now see here!”he spluttered… in the irritatingly familiar tones of Professor Dawson.
Who was very clearly here in Puri.
The professor brushed off his waistcoat with a red-cheeked indignation.“You might try watching where you’re going, young lady!”he blustered.
Ellie stared at him.Had the man truly failed to recognize her?
Then it clicked.He hadn’t bothered tolook.She was just another female in a dress to him.
The notion filled her with a burst of annoyance.“Really?” Ellie snapped back.
Dawson’s eyes focused—and promptly widened.“Not you!”
He tripped back with automatic fear—and then caught himself, looking around.The hall they stood in angled away from the lounge and was currently deserted.
She could see the moment the professor realized that he was facing down a single young woman, and not even a particularly big or threatening one.The sordid notion that he might be able to get the better of her crept transparently across his features.
Ellie found herself contemplating how a physical confrontation between her and the fellow in front of her might turn out.She admittedly lacked both Constance’s knives and her jiu jitsu—but then, it wasDawson.Even with the natural advantages of his gender, Ellie questioned whether it would really be that much of a struggle.
“And are you here all on your own, then?”Dawson prodded nastily.
“Nope,” Adam replied, stepping around the corner and clamping a hand onto his shoulder.
Dawson jumped with a strangled yelp.
Adam reached around the professor to open the nearest door and shoved the man through it.Dawson fell inside, arms wheeling.Adam followed him, Ellie at his heels.
They stood in a reasonably large broom closet.Shelves along the walls were lined with towels and cleaning compounds.Mops and buckets leaned haphazardly in the corner.
“Look what you found,” Adam commented to Ellie as he studied Dawson.
“I more or less tripped over him,” Ellie admitted.
Dawson tugged pompously at his ill-fitting waistcoat.“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the pair of you would turn up here.You turn up everywhere else you aren’t supposed to be.Why not India as well?”
“Having a nice vacation?”Adam asked with a wolfish grin.
“Not at all, actually,” Dawson returned obliviously.“I’m quite certain I’ve picked up malaria.I’ve been feeling absolutely wretched.And the food doesn’t at all agree with my constitution.It’s been most unpleasant.”
“How about your friends?”Adam’s voice lowered dangerously.
“Friends?”Dawson echoed.“Who on earth are you—oh.Did you mean Mr.Forster-Mowbray?He hasn’t come along.I gather his father isn’t too pleased with him after that fiasco back in Egypt.Classic case of poor management, that, but I suppose that’s what you get when you lean on relations instead of allowing more clearly qualified individuals to take charge of things.Now, if someone with a stronger university background had been assigned to lead the project—”
Ellie barely reined in her impatience.“Why are you here?”
Dawson pointed his nose in the air.“I hardly see why I need to explain myself to the likes of you.”
Adam’s eyes twinkled with dark mischief.“I’m not sure he’s really here for anything.I think he just takes up space.”
Dawson bristled.“I am a professor emeritus of the University of Saint Andrews…”
