I, Nefertiti

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An Excerpt From: I, NEFERTITI

Copyright © LACEY SAVAGE, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

Tears welled in Nell's eyes. She blinked them back,
determined to at least try to pretend she wasn't scared out of her wits.
She needed to stay calm. If she could only think this through rationally,
she might be able to figure out what happened and how to get home.

It would be reasonable to assume that whatever had
hurled her into the past also had the power to toss her forward into the
future, but as she glimpsed a sand-colored pyramid through an open window,
Nell realized that she had no idea how she'd come to be here. The girl had
found her in the tombs--that much she knew. But why was she there? Had it
been her hand that had reached for Nell and yanked her through to this
mysterious place?

Akhenaten stopped before a set of large double doors and
dismissed the two servants who had escorted them through the palace. When
he reached for the handle, Nell's hand fell away from his arm. She
struggled to remember whether queens and pharaohs shared a chamber. Was he
going to invite her in? If he walked through those doors without her, she wasn't
sure she'd have the strength to follow on her own. She could flee back
through the city, back to the tombs, wherever they were.

But when Akhenaten reached for her hand, the dreams
she'd been having for so many nights came rushing back.

Akhenaten.

He was here, exactly where he'd told her he'd be. And he
was real.

"Don't tell me you're not speaking to me again," he said
as he entered the lavish chamber. Incense filled the room with an earthy
scent. Candles had been lit to banish the growing twilight. "There's carpet
here. Might be a little more comfortable if you decide to drop to your
knees before me again." He grinned, but the words didn't sound entirely
playful. There was something beneath the light tone. Anger maybe?
Suspicion?

"Ah well..." Nell cleared her throat. She still couldn't
quite get used to the strange words she uttered whenever she tried to
speak. She only hoped that whatever she was saying was what she'd meant to
say. "I'm sorry about earlier. I...I fell, back in the tombs. I hit my head."

Dammit, Nell, you're an actress. You've played this
part before. How different can Cleopatra be from Nefertiti?

But there was no one like Akhenaten on the set of Cleopatra.
The actors who had portrayed Egyptian men didn't have his features, elegant
and chiseled, which could harden so easily when he looked at her. Did he
have to practice that look? Or did it come naturally, like his easy stance
and the overpowering sex appeal? A good pharaoh was said to be able to
inspire fear and awe in his subjects. He was a god to them. Standing here,
just a couple of feet away from Akhenaten, Nell understood why.

"What were you doing in the tombs?" he asked, untying
the string that held his gold-trimmed robes together at the base of his
throat. When the garment fell from his lean body, Nell had to force herself
not to gasp.

He was perfect. Dark and sleek, his body looked just as
it had in her dreams. His broad chest, flat stomach and strong arms were
just the way she liked them--not overtly muscular, but well defined. There
wasn't a trace of hair on him except for the small trail that led down from
his navel into the garment covering him below the waist. He tugged on the
kilt that reached down to his knees. Made of a smooth material pleated in
slender accordion folds, it unraveled easily in a counterclockwise
direction. She watched, transfixed, as it fell to the floor.

To Nell's increasing frustration, Akhenaten wore yet
another strip of cloth underneath the kilt, but this one looked nothing
like the boxer shorts her ex-fiancé had always worn to bed. If she had to
give the piece of material a name, she'd have to call it a loincloth. A gold, shimmering loincloth that did nothing to hide
the bulge between his thighs, but a loincloth nevertheless.

Nell blushed when she realized he was still watching
her. He'd followed her gaze, which she'd fixed firmly on his cock, and he
now regarded her with an expression between amusement and puzzlement.

"I...uh..."

"Yes, yes, I know, you hit your head. Have you stopped
to consider it might have done more good than you think?"