Buried Secrets by Kristi Belcamino (best ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📗

Breathing. Behind her.

She was not alone.

One

Before

Minneapolis Museum of Modern Art

Heart pounding, Dallas stepped into the foyer of the museum and then stopped dead, eyes lifted to the sixteen-foot high red granite statutes of a pharaoh and queen towering above them.

It was nearly unfathomable that another archeologist had not only found these buried under sand in the Mediterranean Sea, but had managed to transport them to Minnesota.

It made moving to this god-forsaken freezing hinterland all worth it.

Well, her job at the university made it worth it, but still this made it doubly worth leaving her sun-soaked home state of Arizona.

She stood looking up in awe.

How could something that had been hidden in the sea for hundreds of years be so perfectly preserved?

Colton brushed her arm and Dallas jolted.

“Can you take a picture of me?” Dallas said, reaching out to hand Colton her phone.

She saw her hand was shaking. What was up with that? Colton had also noticed.

“You cold?”

“Gee, why do you ask? Because it’s negative five outside,” she quipped. “I can’t believe I live here now.”

“I don’t even wear glvoes until it’s negative twenty,” he said.

“Just take my picture.”

He cocked his head examining her as she backed up, into place between the two mammoth statues. The museum brochure she read said the statutes weighed 8,000 pounds each and were likely more than twenty-two centuries old.

They’d been plucked from the seas near Alexandria. No wonder she was shaking. Dallas had dreamed of unearthing treasures in Egypt for as long as she could remember. Now she was seeing some of the most spectacular archeological treasures discovered in more than fifty years. It was okay to be shook up, she told herself.

Ever since they’d pulled into the museum’s parking lot, Dallas had felt a surge of nervous, electric energy racing through her. She’d tripped coming up the stairs from the garage, banged her knee into the welcome desk, and dropped her ticket three times before they made it inside the museum.

When she’d first heard—months ago— that the exhibition was coming to town, she’d become a member of the museum just so she could be one of the first to tour it and be the first to hear the team of archeologists talk about their findings. And now that day was here.

“Smile, Dallas,” Colton said, “you look like you’re afraid.”

Was she? No. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Just take the damn picture!”

“Why don’t you take your hair down?” Colton asked.

“Because,” Dallas said, slightly annoyed.

Because the other day when she was at the gym locker room and taken her hair down to brush it, this little girl came up to her and called her Wonder Woman and asked for her autograph. Well, maybe that wasn’t the real reason. She happened to like wearing her hair in a ponytail. It was no fuss. Dallas was all about the no fuss. That’s why her self-imposed uniform was a tank top and black cargo pants most of the time. Moving to Minnesota had put a cramp in her style since she had to wear a sweater over the tank top most of the time.

“Because why?” His voice was teasing. “I’ve never seen you without your hair in a ponytail.”

Dallas rolled her eyes. “I can’t be bothered spending time doing things like fixing my hair. Booooring.”

“Just this once?”

“Sure, I’ll do it if you grow a soul patch,” she said Then she burst into laughter. The thought of clean-cut Colton a soul patch was ridiculous. But sort of sexy, she thought.

“Deal.”

“Shut up and take the damn picture already,” she said. She tossed her long dark ponytail in a faux modeling move. “And make sure I look cute.”

A barely imperceptible flush spread across Colton’s cheeks. A group entered the museum right then chattering loudly but she could still make out his mumbled words: “I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Crap. She quickly looked away.

As Dean of Anthropology at the University of Minnesota, Colton was technically her boss. But they were more than that. She wasn’t sure what they were, but she knew that the electricity between them was undeniable. But he was her boss! However, something always seemed to get in the way of them taking their relationship to a different level. Not to mention: he was her boss.

She needed to tattoo that on his forehead so every time she looked at him she wouldn’t forget.

To hide her embarrassment, Dallas turned and started toward the huge staircase at the end of the main floor. It seemed like lately, she and Colton had one of these super awkward moments at least once a week.

Last week it had happened when Colton had asked her to his mother’s house for Christmas.

“Uh, what?” she had responded, scrunching up her face.

She’d been taken aback by the offer, and unfortunately, he could tell. He made sputtering excuses, which made Dallas feel even worse for reacting the way she had.

“Um, I just know that you’re sort of new to Minnesota, um, my mom makes a really yummy ham and …” He’d trailed off. It must have been the horrified look on her face.

But he’d misread it. She’d been mortified that Colton thought she was such a loser she’d be spending the holiday utterly alone. One day she’d mentioned her parents were dead. And now he’d invited her to Christmas. No thank you. She didn’t want a “pity” invite.

She plastered a huge fake smile on her face. “I do have plans but thank you.”

“Oh. Are you going back to Arizona for the holidays?”

“No.” She didn’t explain and he didn’t ask.

She didn’t elaborate that her plans were to put on her sweatpants and a huge hoodie and binge-watch The Sopranos and eat copious amounts of popcorn.

Now, in the museum, she regretted the whole conversation. It was sweet of his mother to ask her. It was even sweeter that Colton wanted her there, too. Now, she wished she’d said yes instead of letting her insecurity and pride get in the way. Same story different day. It