New York Times bestselling author Karen Hawkins pits a world-renowned explorer against his strong-willed assistant as they pursue a long-lost treasure. When famed Egyptologist Michael Hurst discovers that the infamous Hurst Amulet is hidden in Scotland, he insists his trusted assistant, Miss Jane Smythe-Haughton, accompany him north. Strangely, the usually unflappable Jane seems perturbed by their destination—the mysterious Isle of Barra. A fascinated Michael watches as his staid assistant transforms, revealing intriguing layers of mystery and vulnerability. Could he be about to uncover not one, but two, precious treasures? Once her clan’s princess, Jane fled Barra years ago to avoid a forced marriage. Since then, she has made her living as efficient Miss Smythe-Haughton—the perfect (and highly paid) assistant. Now she must confront her secrets…including her feelings for her irascible employer, too-handsome-for-his-own-good Michael Hurst. Others are also searching for the missing amulet, however. Can Jane and Michael learn to trust each other in time to solve two riddles: the location of the Hurst Amulet, and the meaning of the vivid passion flaring between them? New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Karen Hawkins writes novels that have been praised as touching, witty, charming, and heartwarming. A native Southerner who grew up in the mountains of East Tennessee where storytelling is a way of life, Karen recently moved to frosty New England with her beloved husband and multiple foster dogs. The Dove Pond series is a nod to the thousands of books that opened doors for her to more adventures, places, and discoveries than she ever imagined possible. To find out more about Karen, check in with her at Facebook.com/AuthorKarenHawkins, on Instagram @KarenHawkinsAuthor, and on her website KarenHawkins.com. a>CHAPTER 1 From the diary of Michael Hurst, famous explorer and Egyptologist: Finally, I have the entire treasure map in my possession—the one that will lead us to the lost Hurst Amulet, which was taken from my family so many centuries ago. I was certain the map revealed the final clue to the amulet’s location and I was ready to proceed thus. Or I was until my blasted assistant, the redoubtable Miss Jane Smythe-Haughton, made a completely unrequested observation that I was “anything but well versed in this particular form of cartography” and I should have an expert examine the bloody thing. Her distrust in my knowledge is as large as it is abiding. However, I’m now forced to prove myself, so I’m having the map reviewed by a renowned expert. Once I receive confirmation that my theory is correct, we will begin the final quest for the amulet. After, of course, I finish mocking Jane to hell and back for her disbelief in my profound and infallible map-reading abilities. London, England October 12, 1822 Michael Hurst ignored the stir of excitement that flowed across the ballroom at his entrance. “Damn fools,” he muttered, tugging on his cravat. His sister Mary sent him an exasperated glance. “Leave that alone.” “It’s choking me.” “It’s fashionable and you must look presentable.” At his annoyed glare, she added in an earnest tone, “Michael, this ballroom is full of potential investors for your expeditions.” Potential headaches were what they were. “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked irritably. “Where’s that damned refreshment table? If I’m going to face these monkeys, I’ll need a drink.” “They’re not monkeys, but lovely women who—” She caught his expression and grimaced. “Perhaps a drink will improve your spirits. Lady Bellforth usually sets the refreshment table by the library doors.” He nodded and stepped in that direction. As if in answer to that one step, fans and lashes fluttered, seemingly hoping to trap him in a gossamer hold. “For the love of Ra,” he said through gritted teeth, “don’t they have anything better to do than stare?” “You’re famous,” Mary said calmly. “I don’t wish to be famous.” “But you are, so you’ll just have to live with it.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Just smile and nod and we’ll make our way through this crowd in no time at all.” “Smiling won’t work, but this will.” He scowled instead, noticing with glee that several of the flowery fans stopped fluttering. “Michael, you can’t—” He placed his hand firmly under her elbow and led her into the crowd, scowling at first one hopeful-looking miss and then another. They blushed, then sagged, as if he’d stabbed their empty little hearts. Mary made an impatient noise and then said in a low voice, “We’ll never get another sponsor if you keep that up. These women are the daughters and sisters of wealthy men who could aid your expeditions greatly!” “They are cotton-headed bits of fluff, and I refuse to pander to them.” He almost stopped when one of them boldly winked at him. “Good God, what happened to female modesty while I was in the wilds of Egypt?” “More to the point, what happened to