Bettina Hill sat by the campfire, trying to keep warm. Beside him were two men, whom the firelight illuminated in a vague golden tone.

— Isn't it amazing how quickly it cools in the desert? — she commented to the companions. — It seems impossible that it is so hot during the day and so cold at night.

The youngest of the boys turned to her with a mocking smile.

— This should not have surprised her. Isn't that the same with your life too? — His gaze swept over her slim figure as if she wanted to strip him of his khaki shorts and white cotton blouse.

Bettina's green eyes flashed with anger. Ralph Kernit had been unpleasant since they started their trip to Yahren, the small desert country in North Africa. She had come to the conclusion that ignoring him was the best thing to do. He stood up and smiled at the older man.

— Good night, John. I am going to bed.

— I am also going, although I am not at all pleased with the idea of ​​returning to that stuffy tent. Good thing we're almost done with the job! I can't stand this climate anymore.

Bettina had a great affection for John Hazelton, although she had only recently known him. She looked at him worriedly, noticing the pallor of his face. In a way, she felt guilty for her colleague's discomfort, since she was responsible for him staying in the camp. John's part of the job was already over and he could go home, but he had decided to stay just so he wouldn't leave her alone with Ralph in that secluded spot.

If it weren't for Ralph Kernit's bold and insistent attitudes, this would be a wonderful mission. When the editor of Architectural World magazine contacted her at the small college where she worked, in Maryland, in the United States, Bettina had been thrilled. The entire archaeological community was excited by the discovery of a tomb dating from the time of the pharaohs in distant Yahren, as that was the first discovery of its kind outside Egypt. The mummy and all the objects found in the funeral parlor were still being evaluated by experts and, therefore, it was a remarkable achievement for Architectural World to have obtained permission to photograph the tomb before it was released for exhibition.

John was the editor of the prestigious magazine and was in charge of the mission. Ralph continued as a photographer and Bettina, as an archaeologist, was to examine the structure of the rooms and determine what each of them would have been used for. The report would be the highlight of one of the publication's next issues.

After leaving the fire that night, Bettina went into the tent and made sure to close it carefully before starting to undress. Ralph had stopped trying to share his bed, but she had no doubt that the boy would not hesitate to take a look if he found a breach in the canvas. She put on her nightgown and undid the long braid in which she had tied her hair. Loose, the blonde strands fell silky over her shoulders, framing the delicate lines of her face of classic beauty. The fine fabric perfectly displayed the slim, curvy body, but it did not protect her from the low temperature of the night, and she was quick to get into the cozy cocoon of blankets on the low bed.

A noise woke Bettina up in the middle of the night. The moonlight coming through the opening of the tent revealed a man wearing the long dress typical of the Arabs. Bettina felt hate ignite her cheeks, thinking that Ralph had gone too far this time!

She sat on the bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

— What do you imagine it to be? The Arab sheikh? If you don't get out of here right now I'm going to start screaming!

When she reached for the flashlight, the man grabbed her by the wrist. Shocked, Bettina found out it wasn't Ralph! The person standing in front of him was an Arab from the deserts, whom she sometimes saw in the distance. The nomadic tribes had never disturbed them, but they had been warned to be careful when they camped in isolated regions.

Bettina jumped her arm and jumped off the bed, screaming for help as she ran to the entrance to the tent. However, another man, even bigger than the first, blocked her way, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her chin so that the moon lit up her frightened face. She said something in a language she didn't understand and the two strangers laughed.

Bettina's heart leapt into her chest, while the Arabs devoured her with a sly look.

— Get your hands off me! I'm an American citizen, you know? — Seeing that her words had no effect, she panicked. — I will give you money or anything you have here in the tent! Please let me go!

The man holding her by the waist seemed to understand her, but Bettina's relief was short-lived.

— We take money and we take you, too. — His eyes lit up as he examined her from head to toe.

— You're going to be in trouble if you don't get out of here. My friends have guns. — "Where would John and Ralph be?" She thought, desperate. "Wouldn't they have noticed the movement?"

He got the answer when the man put it on his shoulder and carried it out. John and Ralph were lying on the floor and tied up.

— I'm sorry, Bettina — murmured John. — They dominated us before we knew they were inside the tent. .

— I can not believe — she said, struggling unsuccessfully. — What am I going to do now?

— They will not dare to hurt you. I'm sure they'll take you just to ask for a ransom. — John's voice didn't sound very convinced. — We'll pay anything to get it back — he said to the men, who ignored him.

Bettina was thrown on the saddle of one of the two waiting horses. Without another word, the kidnappers mounted and carried her across the desert.

That was the beginning of three days of anxiety and fear. She was taken to the Arabs' camp, a heap of tents that housed men, women and children. A plethora of domestic animals roamed the tents. Seeing the place so calm, Bettina felt more relieved. It was certain that they would not harass her in the presence of their families!

At the same moment, the men gathered around her. They touched his hair, feeling its texture and length. Then they tried to touch his body, but Bettina fought them off with fury. The Arabs did not insist, they just laughed among themselves.

After much conversation, of which she understood nothing, Bettina was taken to a large tent and handed over to the care of several women, who seemed as interested in her as the men. They fiddled with the ties on the nightgown and examined a small gold ring on her finger.

— I will give it to you if you help me out of here — tried Bettina, without being heard.

He lay motionless on the carpet that the women indicated to him, trying to imagine what his situation was. Maybe John was right and those people just wanted a ransom. If they had something else in mind, they would have done it already, instead of housing it with women.

Still, she didn't like the way the men looked at her. Who could guarantee that they would release her after receiving the amount they asked for?

The next morning, Bettina was given a caftan to wear, which, at least, would allow her to leave the tent to assess her chances. However, women followed her everywhere, without her knowing whether they obeyed orders or were just curious. She couldn't speak to people because no one at the camp understood her language, except the man who had kidnapped her, whose name she discovered was Akmed, and who had disappeared from the place. He returned after three days and looked satisfied.

Bettina hurried to challenge him.

— What are you going to do with me? They can't keep me here forever.

— You are not happy? Don't worry, you'll be gone soon. Those words, however, did not convince her. In fact, when the women took her to the tent and started to undress her, she knew the situation was getting worse.

Bettina resisted as she could, determined not to make the task easy for women. The effort, however, was in vain, since minutes later she was naked in the middle of the room. They then dressed her in long, flowing, thin trousers, fastened at the hips by a sequined waistband that left her belly button exposed. A sparkling bra completed the outfit, exposing much of the firm breasts.

Bettina looked at herself in disbelief. She looked like an Arab dancer ... or a native bride. Was it possible that they would make her marry one of those desert men? A wave of panic rose in her throat, almost choking her.

After combing her long light hair, arranging it around her bare shoulders, the women took Bettina out of the tent, placed her on a table that had been set up in the center of the camp, and left.

There was an atmosphere of excitement among the men who gathered around the makeshift platform. The dark eyes shone with greed when they examined it as if it were a piece of merchandise:

Suddenly, Bettina understood what was going on. "It was going to be sold!", He reflected: the three days of waiting had been necessary to contact all the local chiefs. It would be auctioned off like a slave! How could this be happening to her? She looked at the dark men who were devouring her with her eyes and felt nauseous.

The bidding started soon, with the Arabs pushing each other and waving their arms to get attention. Akmed was an astute auctioneer and spent all the time stroking Bettina's long blond hair and pointing at various parts of his body to raise the bids.

Everyone was so focused on the auction that they didn't notice a latecomer approaching. They looked at him with surprise when he, mounted on an imposing bay horse, mingled with the crowd of buyers. He wore a caftan of immaculate whiteness, in contrast to the worn clothes worn by other men. The kaffiyeh who wore his head, tied to his forehead by a string, hid a large part of his face, but Bettina guessed that he must have been about thirty-five years old. The dark brown eyes were tight and serious.

Although he radiated power and arrogance, there was some tension in the newcomer, watching the group around him closely. Bettina wondered what could concern such a bold man. It certainly wouldn't be fear.

When his eyes wandered in awe over her half-naked body, she shivered. There was no doubt about the meaning of that look: he had also come to participate in the auction. His voice sounded determined as he spoke out loud in the strange native language.

Whatever he had said, it caused a stir of protest among the assembled men. Akmed, however, showed an approving air and his eyes shone with greed as he reached out to the stranger to receive a small leather bag from him. Bettina watched the transaction in a daze, feeling the reality slip out of her grasp. But when the latecomer approached the table and wrapped his arm around her waist, she regained consciousness and struggled with all the strength her slim body was capable of.

— You can't do this to me! ― he shouted, slamming his fists on his raptor's rock solid chest. The arm that held her waist firmly revealed that the effort was futile, but Bettina still resisted frantically.

He tilted his head until his mouth touched her ear.

— I would advise you to cooperate, unless you like the idea of ​​becoming a toy in the hands of one of these men.

Bettina was so surprised that she went limp. The stranger took advantage of the moment to mount and lift her to the saddle. Keeping her in his arms, he spurred his horse and left the camp behind.

— Are you american!— she exclaimed. — But why...

— I'll explain later — he warned, tense.

Bettina's mind swam with questions, but there was no opportunity to express them. The gallop of the horse made conversation impossible and she was forced to hold on to the strong body of the man who led the animal to stay safe on the saddle. His firm thighs brushed hers, making her uncomfortably aware of the contact between their bodies. The only hope that encouraged her was to think that the horse could not continue in that fast march forever.

It was a long time before they reached a small oasis, nothing more than a cluster of palm trees along a sparse lawn. A native with a rifle and a horse was in charge of an old jeep.

The man driving Bettina dismounted and addressed the guard.

— Is there a problem, Abdul?

Upon receiving the negative answer, he handed the Arab some money before returning to the horse and helping Bettina down.

She felt her legs were soft and aching all over her body. When he tried to support her, Bettina repelled him.

— Who are you, anyway?

— We can talk about this later. At the moment we have more important matters to deal with.

He removed the kaffiyeh from his head, revealing his dark hair and a small scar on his forehead. When undressing the caftan, Bettina was surprised to see that he wore white shorts and a blue T-shirt under the Arab costume. Who would that man be? Why did you pretend to be a nomad? The questions had to wait, because he was already handing her the caftan and pushing her into the jeep.

— Those guys weren't very happy when I took you out of camp. I think we better get out of here before they think twice and decide to come after us.

The jeep moved away from the oasis across the desert, while Bettina tried to put her thoughts in order. He decided he couldn't wait any longer to find out what was going on.

— Is there any reason why you don't want to tell me who you are?

— None. My name is Travis Hunter.

There was an expectant tone in his voice, as if he expected her to recognize the name. In fact, Bettina thought it was vaguely familiar, but she was too worried to think about it.

— What are you doing in Yahren and how did you suddenly appear in the middle of the desert?

— I find your presence in that place much stranger.

— Oh, it was awful! They kidnapped me, kept me in jail for three days and I had no way of communicating with people and finding out why. But it seems that you speak their language. Where did you learn?

— I spent some time here last year. They didn't molest you, did they?

— Not physically, but the anxiety I felt was real torture. At first I thought they had arrested me for ransom, and when I found out ... I don't even want to talk about it. How can they sell a human being?

He reached out and took Bettina's hand, giving her an inexplicable sense of security. Although she didn't even know who that man was, she experienced the strange impression that nothing bad could happen to her while she was beside him.

— They do anything for money. In addition, you need to remember that it is a very valuable commodity. Light-skinned blondes are a rarity in this part of the world. And I doubt that they have ever seen a pair of green eyes as beautiful as yours.

— Are you defending those guys?

— No, just explaining. — He smiled mischievously and his eyes lit up as he looked at Bettina's body, wrapped in the Arab robe. — On second thought, maybe I'm a little jealous of those nomads. There is something attractive about societies that have not yet been affected by the so-called "civilization".

— How can you say that? Would you want a woman that you had to buy?

— Who knows? — he murmured, laughing when he saw Bettina's angry look. — Don't worry, my dear, it never happened to me.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, thinking that this man would never need to buy a woman. It was more likely that his problem was choosing among the suitors. He had a beautiful face and, more than that, interesting. It gave the impression that he had always lived with intensity ... and that he had loved many women. Bettina was surprised to wonder what kind of lover he must be. Suit? Authoritarian? Embarrassed, she hurried to dismiss the thought.

It was with relief that he saw a city appear on the horizon. The long nightmare was almost over! He still had problems to face, like finding out what had happened to John and Ralph, contacting the magazine for instructions, getting decent clothes, but they were insignificant in relation to the hardship he had just been through.

Travis pulled into a quiet residential street, parked the jeep beside a silver Mercedes, and turned off the engine.

Bettina's apprehensions have returned.

— Why do we stop here? I need a phone.

— In a little while you will have it — he assured her, helping her out of the jeep and into the Mercedes.

— Why are we changing cars?

— You don't have to worry so much. Mercedes are common around here and will not notice us. In addition, it has the advantage of being fast. I'm sure I can outmaneuver any police car.

— But why would you do that? I want to see the police!

— Oh, yes? — he replied, in a cynical tone. Without giving her a chance to answer, she got in the car, closed the door and gave her the Katieh she had worn on her head with the caftan. — Put this on and keep it down.

— No! I won't obey any more orders before I know where you're taking me.

Travis's expression hardened.

— Listen, girl, I just paid a millionaire ransom for you and I make a point of getting what I came for. After that, you can go to the police, if you are foolish at that point.

The fast car moved through the deserted streets. Bettina no longer understood anything and her sense of security had evaporated, but at least she didn't feel so helpless in the city. I could always ask for help in some house. He tensed his body thinking about the chances of surviving if he jumped out of the moving car.

— Do not even think about it — warned Travis, reading his thoughts. — Even if I don't break that beautiful neck, I can run much faster than you in that long tunic. He was right, Bettina admitted, sinking into the leather seat and giving up on the plan. It was necessary to remain calm and wait to see what would happen.

A few minutes later, Travis entered through an open gate in a white wall that surrounded a house entirely, leaving it barely visible from the street. There were extensive lawns and manicured gardens in front of the residence, an imposing Moorish-style pink stone mansion.

When Travis led her through the hall, Bettina noticed that the rooms all opened onto an inner courtyard. A tiled fountain in the center refreshed and cheered the atmosphere and a large number of flower pots and ornamental plants perfumed the air with delicate aromas.

The interior of the building was cool, despite the heat outside. The thick walls functioned as natural insulators. The furniture in the living room harmoniously combined the modern and the old: comfortable white sofas adorned with beautiful Persian rugs that covered the black floor. Even in the circumstances in which she found herself, Bettina enjoyed the environment in which she was introduced.

— I will show you your room — said Travis.

— I will not stay here. You're always promising answers, but you haven't told me anything yet. I want to know exactly what is your part in this whole story!

— I intend to tell you, and in return I expect an equal candor. I just thought you'd like to freshen up first, since I'm looking forward to a shower. But if you prefer to talk now, that's fine by me.

Bettina remembered that she hadn't had a decent shower in three days and felt dirty and sweaty. After all that had passed, another half hour without clarification wouldn't make much difference.

— I would like to take a shower, if you promise that we'll talk later.

— I promise.

The room she was led to was as beautiful as the rest of the house. A large bed covered with a pink silk bedspread was surrounded by cushioned chairs and plush rugs on the dark floor.

Bettina's interest, however, was concentrated in the bathroom, especially in the large shower enclosed by a transparent glass shower. As soon as Travis left her alone, she took off the caftan and the ridiculous Arab dancer costume and turned on the taps.

He washed his hair first and then lathered his slender body to get rid of the sand. It took long, delicious minutes under the water and only when he got out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel remembered that he had no clean clothes to wear. It was out of place to put on the sweaty tunic he had just taken off.

After combing her wet hair, Bettina returned to the bedroom with the vague idea of ​​looking at the wardrobe. Perhaps some previous guest had left something she could use. Before fulfilling his purpose, he noticed something on the bed and came over to identify what it would be. He found a white men's shorts, similar to what Travis wore, a light blue shirt with short sleeves and a belt.

Happy that he solved his problem, Bettina hung the towel on a hanger and started to dress. It was then that he remembered that he had left the bathroom door open while taking a shower. "Had he seen her?" He thought. She felt her whole body heat up at the prospect, but she convinced herself that it was just a reaction of anger.

He tightened the belt around the waist of the shorts to keep it in place. The shirt almost reached her knees and she decided to tuck it inside the waistband. There was no way to find shoes, but she didn't mind being barefoot. It was a relief to be clean and dressed in a decent way. Her hair, almost dry, was combed back and tied in the usual long braid.

Travis was waiting for her in the living room, wearing khaki pants that shaped his narrow hips and muscular thighs. The white linen shirt was unbuttoned halfway across his tanned chest. He looked very urban and sophisticated and it was hard to imagine that he could be the same man who had snatched her up at the auction and walked across the camp with her in his arms.

Upon seeing Bettina, he stood up and smiled.

— Do you feel better?

— Yes. Thank you for the clean clothes.

— It was a pleasure to take them to you — he said, with a mischievous smile on his lips.

There was no longer any doubt that he had seen her in the shower, Bettina thought, feeling her cheeks on fire.

— Was it necessary to spy on me?

— I swear it was not intentional. You left the bathroom door open.

— Because I thought I was alone!

— I couldn't know. — Travis's dark eyes watched her in awe, from firm breasts to well-shaped legs and delicate ankles. — But I don't see why you are upset. It has no defects to hide. Even that little pink stain on your ... buttock ... is charming.

— Is this how you intend to reassure me?

— You don't have to worry, believe me. I never raped a woman. Your problem is that you are too tense. How about a drink to relax?

— No, thank you.

— Are you afraid that I will try to drug you?

— Of course not! Do you want to stop scaring me?

— I don't think you are so easily alarmed. — He approached Bettina, lifted her chin, and examined her face approvingly. — You are brave, girl. Many women would be deeply shaken if they had been through half of the things you faced.

— It wasn't that easy for me.

— Try to forget that. It's almost over. — He caressed her face gently. — Just give me the amulet and you can go home.

Travis's long fingers on Bettina's skin gave her an immense sense of comfort. For a moment, she had an almost irresistible urge to rest her head on those broad shoulders and let her strong arms envelop her in a safety nest. It was then that she registered his last words.

— What amulet?

— You won't be able to escape with him, Bettina. Is this more important than your freedom?

— How do you know my name?

— I know everything about you — Travis stated, calmly.

— How?

— Greg Watson, the editor-in-chief of the magazine you are working for, is an old friend of mine. When things got tough around here, he asked me to find you and get you out of trouble. John Hazelton called and told him what had happened.

— You mean he's fine! I was so worried! The last time I saw him, he and Ralph Kernit were tied up and abandoned in the desert.

— They managed to break free and reach the city, at least John Hazelton. He was really shocked. He called from the airport and took the first plane back to the United States.

— John didn't get along with the weather here. I can understand why he left the country, but why didn't Mr. Watson call the police after John's call?

— Unfortunately, he called. Bettina was stunned and confused.

— Why shouldn't I have called?

— Because it seemed strange for you to disappear at the same time as the amulet.

— What amulet? It's the second time you've talked about it and I don't know what you're referring to.

Travis watched her for a long moment, lingering on Bettina's agitated face.

— Okay, I'm going to play your game and tell the whole story, like you don't know anything. From what I was told, you were hired to provide information about the recently discovered tomb.

— Exactly. All the objects had been removed and therefore an ordinary person would not know what the funeral homes were used for. Ancient kings believed that death was a necessary transition to another life. So they were buried with all their material possessions, including money and jewelry, things that they might need in the next world. The tombs were, in fact, complete apartments. However, without the furniture, the presence of an archaeologist is required to interpret the paintings and graphic signs on the wall and identify the function of each room.

— Very interesting. These tombs are very dark, aren't they? I believe that even a trained researcher could overlook something, even if it was a ruby ​​embedded in a piece of gold that, after all these millennia, must have been dull. Such an amulet would be worth a fortune.

— Are you saying that this object was found and then lost?

— No, I'm saying that you and your partner Ralph Kernit found it and are now trying to sell it. The stupid mistake, however, was to offer it for sale here in Yahren. The government did not like to see its national treasure in the hands of others.

Bettina was silent for a moment, trying to make sense of the words she heard.

— If there is such a piece, I have only heard of it now. I've never seen this amulet!

— It won't do, Bettina. Only you would know the value of such a discovery.

— What would it do for me? I was kidnapped, remember?

— This must have been an accident foreseen in the original plans, but it does not change the facts. You wouldn't easily give up on the amulet, but you could be saving the piece to use as a last resort: your freedom in exchange for the amulet.

Bettina was stunned and tried to ward off panic so she could reason better.

— You said that Ralph offered the object to sell. How could I do that if I had the amulet?

— He offered the object, but did not show the goods. Maybe I'm trying to take a hit. He certainly knows what the amulet looks like and can make his description sound authentic. However, as soon as Ralph started talking, the news spread quickly that a valuable antique ornament was being sold on the black market. The government took notice and now the entire police are after you and your companion. You will not be able to leave the country, my dear, unless you become invisible. Your only chance is to return the amulet.

Bettina felt her legs tremble and had to sit on the couch. How could Travis think that she, an archaeologist, would deprive the world of a treasure like the one she had described? Then he remembered Ralph's strange behavior the day before the desert nomads attacked. He had asked several questions about ancient ornaments and the reasons why these people carved out of precious stones. It was the only friendly conversation they had and Ralph seemed excited about it. The reason had just become clear to Bettina.

Travis's eyes softened when he noticed that she was trembling, but his voice remained dry.

— If you are with him or know where you are, you better tell me.

— I spoke the truth. I know there is no reason to believe me, but I never knew about this amulet before you told me about it.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her closely.

— Do you realize the danger you are in if you are lying to me? I can't hide it forever, and when the police find you, you're going to get a tough sentence. Prisons here are not pleasant places, Bettina. I would hate to see you stuck in one of those cells for a few years.

— I am also not going to be very satisfied. — Bettina tried not to show panic, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

— Do you swear you're not involved in this deal with Ralph Kernit?

— I wish I wasn't even in the same country as him. Ralph has made my life almost unbearable since the day we started work. John even had to stay at the camp after finishing his part, because he was afraid to leave me alone with him.

— It seems like the kind of guy who would do a stupid thing, like stealing a valuable archeological piece.

Bettina stood up, more excited.

— You mean you believe me?

— I believe. But we still have a problem.

Her eyes filled with tears. The nightmare was still far from over.

Travis wrapped her in his arms, snuggled her head over his shoulder.

— Hey, you're not going to lose your nerve now, are you?

— I do not know what to do. The police are after me and I have no clothes or money.

— You have me — he murmured, stroking her hair. The fingers tangled in the braid, undoing it. Travis then smoothed the long blond strands, which fell loose and smooth over her shoulders. — Do you think I would let anything happen to you after I paid all that money?

She pulled back a little to look him in the face.

— Why are you doing all this for me?

Travis wiped a tear off Bettina's face, following the course down her wet face. There was something sensual about that touch, turning it into a tender caress. Bettina felt her heart beat faster as she realized that the atmosphere between them had changed subtly. Suddenly, he realized that Travis was a very manly man and that the reasons for him being there beside him were still unclear.

Travis's dark eyes shone as he looked at his long lashes and then his crimson mouth.

— You must have had many men willing to protect you. She released herself from the embrace, tossing her hair back with trembling fingers.

— No, I didn't.

Bettina was telling the truth. He had led a very cloistered life during college. Her parents had died when she was eighteen, leaving her almost broke. She had had to work to keep up with her studies, which left her with little free time for romantic encounters. After graduating, she stayed at the university, where she met several boys whose main interest was work. He had even gone out with some of them, but without any more serious involvement. None of the companies she had had so far had much more experience than she did. I had never met anyone like Travis.

— I can hardly believe it. — He didn't try to hug her again, but the proximity of that male body was disturbing.

— Did you get paid to find me?

— No, it was a favor I did for Greg. The amulet's theft left the magazine in a very compromising position. If you had actually been the perpetrator of the theft, Architectural World could be accused of an accomplice. People would think that the tomb article was nothing more than a cover.

— It's because I? Why didn't Greg ask you to find Ralph?

— In fact, he was suspicious of both. If the suspicion fell only on Ralph, perhaps Greg would let him suffer the consequences, but the arrest of a beautiful young archaeologist would make headlines in the newspapers. After all, the story involves intrigue, suspense, romance, all the requirements to attract attention.

Greg asked me to find you, return the amulet, and get you and Ralph out of the country without any advertising.

— Are you some kind of private detective?

— No, I'm a writer.

— Oh! Travis Hunter, the writer! How did I not recognize the name?

— I think you ended up giving me material for another book.

Bettina flushed. He had read some of Travis's novels. Although they were adventure stories, they contained a great deal of sex. In general, there was a heroine in danger, just like her, but the similarities ended there. Shortly after they met, the hero and heroine of the books made love in a mind-boggling way and the situation persisted throughout the romance.

Travis was considered an excellent writer. His books soon became bestsellers and occupied the first place in sales for long periods. He researched the exotic locations he used in the stories and it was rumored that he lived as many adventures as his fictional heroes.

— I'm sorry I didn't recognize you soon, Travis.

— Do not apologize. You had some other things on your mind, didn't you?

— And I still have it. How am I going to get out of here?

— At the moment it is impossible. If we were in Europe, there would be countless ways to get it across the border. But here, the authorities will be examining every English-speaking woman who tries to leave the country. It is a pity that you have not learned the local language.

— You mean it's only a matter of time before they catch me?

— No. We just have to find Ralph Kernit and retrieve the amulet. If we return it to the authorities, they will no longer be interested in you.

— But we can take a while to find him! What am I going to do in the meantime?

— You can accept my hospitality.

There was something about his smile that disturbed her. Travis looked like a cat waiting for the right moment to strike. His plan would require them to hide in that house for an indefinite period, and, judging by his reputation, Travis did not intend to spend time alone playing patience.

Bettina had no intention of participating in any sexual activity that he had planned, but neither could she disagree with the host. Travis was his only hope. He clenched his teeth, making sure he got out of that situation safely, even though he knew the days ahead were not going to be easy. He was an experienced man and he certainly would not stop harassing her.

Travis was watching her critically, certain that his offer had been accepted.

— We're going to have to do something to change your appearance. Maybe dye your hair.

— Why, if nobody is going to see me? I will only go out when it is very dark.

— It cannot be hidden here inside the house. That would be suspicious. People will end up knowing that you are here.

— Do you want me to come out in the daylight? I can not do this! You said yourself that you're looking for me!

— As long as you are not a blonde, you will not be stopped on the street. They are only looking closely at American women trying to leave the country. I'm going to go out and buy a black hair dye.

— Do you really think this is necessary? She asked, reluctantly.

— Trust me.

Bettina was not confident, but found no way to disagree.

— Buy dark brown, Travis. Black always gives the impression of dyed.

Her apprehensions increased when she found herself alone in the house. Could they find Ralph before the police? And would he still have the amulet? Another concern was how long Travis would be willing to devote himself to the search, without receiving anything in return.

At the moment, it was an adventure for him, an experience he could use in one of his books. But what if he got bored? Even though I had known him for a short time, I could bet that Travis Hunter would never endure boredom.

Bettina shivered. It was a good thing they didn't take long to find Ralph, or she would have to think of an acceptable way to keep Travis entertained.