Fireworks: Riley

A MacKenzie Novella

By Liliana Hart

For my readers—

Thanks for loving the MacKenzie family as much as I do. This is for you.

Dear Readers,

First of all, if you haven’t read the beginning of Riley’s story, then stop now and go download
RILEY
.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’m thrilled to bring you the continuation of Riley and Maggie’s story. I never planned on adding any more to the original MacKenzie brother novellas, but the response from readers has been overwhelming, and when readers ask for something, I try really hard to give it to them. So thank you all for loving the MacKenzies and asking for more.

When you last left Riley and Maggie, they’d been thrown together for a great adventure that included a stolen artifact, a blizzard, and a treasure chest of toys. Fast forward to three years later and they’re still on the grandest adventure of their lives—marriage.

I hope you enjoy Riley and Maggie’s story. And stay tuned for the final installment of the MacKenzie Brothers Series—COOPER: The Ties That Bind.

Love Always,

Liliana

Riley MacKenzie wiped the sweat and grime from his brow with a bandana and then stuffed the worn straw hat back on his head. The sun beat down like a thousand kinds of hell, and the salt of perspiration stung his eyes and ran in rivulets into the short growth of beard he hadn’t bothered to shave over the past week and a half.

His white linen shirt clung damply to broad shoulders and his cargo pants were dusty and well worn. Sleeping in a tent in the middle of the desert for more than a week with a precarious water supply didn’t leave room for regular baths or laundry. He’d certainly lived in worse conditions for longer periods of time over the course of his life.

But days like this one had been easier in his twenties—when he’d been hell bent on being one of the youngest candidates to complete his PhD in archaeology and make waves with the academic papers he wrote. He’d never said no to an interesting project—something that might further his career or help him make a name for himself. He knew from experience it wasn’t always easy to become distinguishable when your last name was MacKenzie. But he’d managed to do it, and now his name was always at the top of the list for lectures, new research projects, and unusual digs.

But this time he hadn’t been quite so quick to throw his things in a bag and fly halfway across the world. Since his marriage three years before he’d discovered he was more of a homebody than he’d thought. Or maybe it was because he had Maggie snuggled up beside him when he closed his eyes every night. No matter the reason, he was a different man than he’d been before. Family had always been important to him—how could it not with three brothers, a sister, and more cousins than he could count? But he’d come to realize that Maggie was his true family, his priority, and his focus. He never thought he’d be capable of that kind of love.

He knew he should be grateful for this opportunity. It was the dig of a lifetime. And yet— something held him back.

Riley stood at the entrance of the tomb that had been hidden for more than three thousand years. Support beams and light scaffolding lined the perimeter. It wasn’t a large tomb—not really a traditional Egyptian tomb at all if you wanted to get technical. There’d been no sarcophagus or urns in the main room—nothing at all. But there had been evidence of a body not properly buried. It wasn’t yet clear how old the body was or why it had been inside the tomb—maybe a looter who’d stumbled across the entrance a hundred years before and gotten trapped inside, or a slave to one of the Pharaohs who’d just been unlucky. That information was up to the forensic anthropologist to find out. Once Riley had seen the almost perfectly preserved hieroglyphs on the walls he’d forgotten all about the body.

His blood had started to tingle the moment he saw the mention of the Book of Souls. It had always been more myth than historical fact, but myths had to get their start from somewhere. The book was said to have great power—a way to unite the living with those who’d already passed into the spirit world. It was a book that breathed life between loved ones for a small moment in time, but also brought danger to those who had it in their possession.

His gut was telling him the book was somewhere inside the tomb, tucked away in some secret corridor. He was experienced enough to know that traps lurked in the narrow passageways that led deeper into the tomb. They’d navigated many of them already, but it was a slow process and time was running out.

The ancient Egyptians were engineers like none other he’d ever seen—hidden corridors and locked doors that could only be passed through with deciphered codes or the correct answer to a puzzle. And failure often meant death. These tombs weren’t meant to be breached, and they’d taken the steps to ensure whatever was buried within stayed safe and secure.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but knew it was useless even as he tried to check his text messages and email. He was in the middle of nowhere, and cell service was only good closer to the city. His focus had been split since the beginning of the dig, and his thoughts kept going back to the text Maggie had sent the day after he’d arrived in Egypt.

Looks like we’re not pregnant again. Looking forward to trying again. Miss you and love you always.

They’d had the same results for more than a year now, and he knew without being there how painful that message must have been for her to type. Each month had been a little more difficult than the previous, and watching the disappointment and heartbreak on her face tore him in two.

Somehow, over the course of the last several months, making love had turned into a mission to get pregnant. Not that he didn’t enjoy those intimacies with his wife. Maggie was an adventuress in and out of the bedroom. But being intimate with each other should never feel like a chore. And fitting in sex between their hectic schedules and when Maggie was ovulating made it feel like nothing but.

What they needed was to get back to the basics. To take some time away where it was just the two of them—no work and no worries. Where they could play and laugh and experiment. Where they could spend twenty-four hours a day secluded and naked, exploring each other’s bodies and satisfying only each other.

The thought of Maggie naked—that lean, supple body stretched out before him—her breasts rosy tipped and begging for his mouth to suckle them and her wrists cuffed and fastened to the headboard, had his cock swelling behind the zipper of his cargo pants. He couldn’t remember the last time they “played” with the various toys and restraints in their collection.

He’d always had a varied and unusual sexual appetite. Not as unusual as his brother Cooper, but enough that not all women were comfortable with the things he enjoyed. He’d respected that choice of his partners before he found Maggie, but he hadn’t always been satisfied. But Maggie was his sexual match in every way.

Riley took a long sip of water from the canteen slung at his hip and then poured some on the back of his neck to cool his heated skin. He had the urge to say to hell with the dig and get on the first flight out of Cairo. He could have Maggie naked and trussed up in the restraints attached to their bed, her pussy spasming around his cock as she cried out in release, in less than twenty-four hours.

“Dr. MacKenzie.”

Riley blew out a sigh of frustration and willed his body back under control before he turned around to see who was calling him. He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and slipped them on.

A young woman of nineteen or twenty sashayed from the covered area she’d been working under and stopped just in front of him, so their bodies were almost touching. Riley took an automatic step back.

She was a pretty girl. Not overly bright. But she at least had good hands and didn’t damage the artifacts. Her white blond hair was pulled in a loose bun on top of her head and strands of hair fluttered around her heart-shaped face. Unlike the others on his team, she didn’t bother with long pants and the light cotton shirts that acted as a natural cooling system for the body. He’d tried to tell her the benefits, but she’d been determined to wear the tiny shorts and halter-tops. At least she’d gotten a great tan out of it.

She was one of his newer interns. Rachel. Or maybe Rebecca. He had a tendency to go through interns like water, so he never bothered to learn their names unless they proved they could make it through an entire dig without crying or messing something vital up. He didn’t tolerate incompetence. Too much was at stake.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Oh, no, Dr. MacKenzie.” She batted big blue eyes at him and he looked down at his watch, wondering if he could make it back to the city in time to call Maggie before she left for work. She was Director of the Museum of Antiquities and was staying at their Seattle home while he was away.

“Umm…Dr. MacKenzie?”

Riley grunted and started making his way toward the equipment table. There was only another hour of daylight and then they’d have to shut things down until the next day. It wasn’t safe navigating the tomb in the dark. And there were too many superstitions floating around to convince anyone that it was a good idea.

She followed behind him, her bun bobbing with every step. “It’s just that Walker and I are finishing up quadrant four, and I was wondering if it would be okay to take a little break. It’s pretty hot today, and we’ve made a lot of progress.”

Her eyes widened as he unbuckled the gun belt from around his waist and laid it on the table. The desert wasn’t a place to go unarmed. There were too many deadly snakes or other poisonous creatures. And the occasional thief as well.

“Umm…and you see, it’s almost dark anyway, and we’ve been working non-stop since we got here. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make it an early night for a little fun. There’s that little bar in Cairo.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes again. “We could grab a drink.”

Riley refrained from rolling his eyes and instead looked over her shoulder to where Walker—who was finishing up his doctoral studies and had worked with Riley on digs for almost four years—worked diligently at cataloging the objects they’d found inside the tomb. Walker looked up and shook his head, clearly aggravated with Rachel—or Rebecca—whatever her name was.

Ten years ago he would’ve given the girl a dressing down that would either shame her back to work or send her packing. Both options most likely resulting in tears. But he was a different man now. Marriage had mellowed him—a little.

“Listen, Rachel,” he said.

“It’s actually Roxanne, Dr. MacKenzie.” Her lips pursed in aggravation and she crossed her arms over her ample chest.

Riley sighed and felt every bit of his thirty-six years. He reminded himself how difficult it was to find interns and that it didn’t matter that the only reason she was probably there was to pad her dating resume. At least ninety percent of his female interns had been looking for Indiana Jones to take home with them. And a hundred percent of them had gone home disappointed every time.

The movies were one thing, but this was reality. Archaeology was a competitive field and growing smaller, as major discoveries were few and far between. It wasn’t non-stop adventure and danger lurking around every corner. It was hours of research and lab time.

Roxanne hadn’t been there two days before she’d been sharing one of the other interns’ sleeping bags. Riley looked over to the other quadrant where the intern in question—Jay Dexter—was working. His head was down and he was going through the pictures of the hieroglyphs they’d discovered, sketching them into a notebook for Riley to go through later. But Jay’s cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment, meaning he’d overheard her not so subtle proposition. It looked like she’d have to find another sleeping bag to sleep in.

Romantic entanglements were always a pain in the ass. Why couldn’t people leave their raging hormones at home?

“Right. Roxanne.” Riley didn’t make eye contact with the girl, and he almost grinned as he saw her irritation was growing rapidly. He crossed his arms over his chest, making sure she saw the glint of the gold ring on his left hand.

A cloud of dust plumed up in the distance—several miles away—catching his attention out of the corner of his eye. He watched in curiosity as it drew closer. With any luck it was the supplies they needed for the rest of the week. That was best case scenario. Worst case scenario, the government had pulled their clearance and planned on escorting them out of the country at gunpoint. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. It had happened to him on more than one dig.

“How old are you, Roxanne?”

“Old enough to have a good time and enjoy a few drinks,” she said, eyeing the ring on his hand with a glint of calculation in her eyes. She was going to be trouble.