The Most Loved of All

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

The bustle of the hotel roused me the next morning, and I blearily opened my eyes. The hinges of my jaw ached, and my arse felt as if Charlie had been rough with me, something he never was.

Because of how my body felt, I knew I must have had a dream of making love with Charlie. I’d had such dreams before he became my lover, when I’d wake to damp pants and a sense of satisfaction. This one, though…someone had been inside me, someone I wanted, but I couldn’t recall his face. The harder I tried—the harder I attempted to hold onto the memory—the harder it was to recall.

And then it was gone, but not the sense of shame at having found pleasure with someone not my husband.

It made the daylight hours worse because Charlie hadn’t made love to me since we’d left our farm. Even in the desert he’d seemed reluctant to touch me.

“You were restless last night, little Rev,” he said when I joined him in the hotel’s dining room. “Are you all right?” His eyes were dark with concern as I sat gingerly beside him to break my fast.

“How did you know that?”

“I could hear you through the walls. They’re paper-thin.”

“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” I said stiffly. I was even sorrier at the sad look my curt words put on his face. “Yes, I’m fine,” I told him. I’d never outright lied to him before, but that dream…it made me uncomfortable…ashamed. I forced myself to smile at him and said again, “I’m fine.”

“That’s good. We’ll be heading out today.”

I cringed at the thought of the discomfort a trot would bring my arse, but I didn’t have a logical reason to ask for a delay to our journey. Mr Carter stated everything had been squared away with the officials, and he was ready to leave whenever we were.

We finished breakfast, went to the stables where our horses were being kept, and prepared to gather up our men and supplies and head south for the Valley of the Kings.

Fortunately, Hubini had an easy gait, and I had no discomfort. I decided the ache I’d felt in the morning must have been remnants of the dream. Come the night, surely things would be better.

But they weren’t, because the closer we came to the Valley of the Kings, the more frequently the dreams came. I could never remember their contents, but each morning I woke aroused, and due to the lack of privacy, unable to do anything about it.

* * * *

The Valley of the Kings, across from the ancient city of Luxor, was in an isolated, secluded area, miles from civilization. It was steeped in superstition.

After we got there, Charlie and I set up our tents—separate tents—and I felt my heart crack a little.

Even worse, I continued to be disturbed by erotic dreams. I would wake up sweating and trembling, sticky from having climaxed, and feeling as if my arse had been thoroughly ploughed. But it wasn’t enough, and I went through the day needing to have a lover’s hand on me. However, Charlie wouldn’t do it, and I wouldn’t turn to another man, although I’d received an invitation. I was married, after all, and I took my vows seriously.

Charlie kept me at arm’s length, and I was certain those dreams were to blame.

No, I wasn’t thinking clearly, but what other reason could there be?

* * * *

So we worked and sweated, and every morning when we rose, we would have fewer men than the day before, as the desolation acted upon their wildest fears. The eerie wail of the wind at night, the jackals’ howls, the never-ending susurration of the desert sand, all this contributed to the ever-rising tension.

And I started to dread the approach of twilight. I looked for reasons to stay awake, and I would succeed for a day or so, but of course, sleep would eventually overtake me, and I would again find myself in the court of an Egyptian pharaoh.

Because yes, I remembered that much, but didn’t it make sense, since we were in the land of pyramids and Sphinxes?