She closed the book, feeling her face flush yet again, and not just from the blasting heat on the mountain. “I get a little overexcited sometimes.”
“No. I’m fascinated.” There was something about his low tone and the way he was looking at her with a kind of glint in the dark depths of his eyes that had her wondering if he meant something other than the dig. That thought, along with how close he still stood to her, kicked her heart into a faster rhythm and made her short of breath, which she knew was absurd. But surely there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t swoon at least a little over Andros Drakoulias.
“My sisters tell me that when I talk about my work, I need to remember to look for eyes glazing over when I go on and on. Sorry.”
“Had you been looking, you’d have seen my eyes were most attentive. And you should never apologize for talking about something you love.”
The deep rumble of his voice, the warmth in it, seemed to slip inside her, and for a long moment they just looked at one another, standing only inches apart, before Laurel managed to snap out of whatever trance he’d sent her into. She sucked in a mind-clearing breath and turned to shove the binder back into its box.
“You’ve hurt yourself.” His strong arm came around her side, brushing against her as he reached for her hand. His head dipped close to hers again as he turned her palm upward, his fingers gently tugging loose the tape and bandage to expose the darn gash that had started bleeding again.
“It’s nothing.” She swiped at the trickle of blood, trying to tug her hand from his, but he held it tight. “I cut it on a potsherd. I’ll bandage it up better when I’m done for the day.”
“When was your last tetanus shot?”
“Just before I came here, Dr. Drakoulias. Cuts and scrapes are one of the hazards of this job.”
“I know. Last summer, I had to treat one of the workers on this dig for sepsis.” His gaze pinned hers, his former warmth replaced by a stern, no-nonsense look. “When you come to see the Wagners, I’ll clean and bandage it for you.”
She opened her mouth to assure him she could take care of it just fine, but the words died on her tongue. The wide palm that held hers was firm yet gentle, and something about his authoritative expression told her any protest would fall on deaf ears. Part of her didn’t want to protest, anyway. She realized, ridiculously, that it felt… nice to have someone want to take care of it for her. Probably because, for a long time, she’d been the nurse, cook, decision maker and overall helper for her sisters, without a soul to assist with all their challenges. Or, except for Tom and Mel, her own.
She reminded herself it wasn’t as if there were anything personal about it, the man was just doing his job. “Not necessary. I have everything I need to clean and bandage it at my hotel.”
“Necessary.” His eyes still on hers, he slowly released her hand. “I’ll see you at the clinic at, say, six o’clock?”
It was loud and clear she’d be in for an argument if she refused, and what sane woman would anyway? “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
The warmth of his palm lingered along with a little flutter of her heart as she watched him steadily stride back down the path, and she shook her head at herself. Mooning after the man was ridiculous, supersexy or not, since the dig was over in a matter of weeks and every second of her focus had to be on what she’d come here to accomplish.
She was already so late getting her career started. By the time her parents were her age, their accomplishments had been featured in numerous archaeological magazines. She could still hear them pointing out how they’d finished their PhDs in just four years, chiding their oldest about her schoolwork and GPA, about how important it was to be a role model to her sisters. Doubtless they would be disappointed in her if they were still alive. She dropped to her knees to get digging again.
The best way, the only way, she could begin to catch up, keep their memory alive, and make them proud, was by doing whatever she could to finish their work then finally get going on her own.
HOURS LATER LAUREL was finally able to shower off the film of dirt that clung to every bit of exposed skin, before studying the cut on her hand. It was less than an inch long, but deeper than she’d realized, which was probably why it kept opening up and bleeding. She washed it out with peroxide and knew that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Andros Drakoulias make sure it was clean. Which of course had nothing to do with liking the feel of her hand in his.
The feeble hair dryer in the old, rambling Delphi hotel that the excavation team had rented rooms in for the summer blew about as much air as she would trying to cool a bowl of soup. The impact on the dampness of her long blond hair was practically nil, and she had to wonder why she’d decided to dry it anyway, when she usually just pulled it back.
She shook her head as she wrapped an elastic around her ponytail. Who was she kidding? She knew the reason, which was a certain megahunky Greek doctor her vain side wanted to look good for.
She threw on a sundress, swiped on a gloss of lipstick, and headed out of the door. Already perspiring again from the shimmering heat, she slipped inside the group’s equally hot rented sedan. She nosed the car down the winding road out of Delphi, and, before she turned onto the highway, paused for a moment to take in the incredible view.
On every horizon, partly sheer cliffs scattered with pines met tumbles of boulders that looked as though they’d been broken apart then glued back together by some giant hand, or perhaps the gods and goddesses of Greek lore. The mountains cradled the valley below, filled with the distinctive silvery-gray leaves of an endless, undulating sea of olive trees that went on as far as she could see. Where the valley ended, the trees seemed to flow right into the Gulf of Corinth, the water such an incredible azure blue that, every time she saw it, she felt amazed all over again. And beyond that azure sea, another range of mountains met the sky that today was equally blue, but at times reflected an ethereal beauty when mistiness embraced the entire scene.
Just looking at it filled her with a reassuring sense of tranquility, the same way walking the ancient Delphi ruins did, hearing the voices of the past. Before she left, she’d take her camera on one last hike of this historic place that still felt so untamed. To remember it by.
With a last, lingering look, she turned onto the highway, her thoughts turning to Tom and Melanie. A bead of sweat slid down her spine as she wondered how they would be feeling when she saw them. Surely they’d have improved by now, since they’d been on antibiotics for hours.
For the first time all day, she let the niggle of worry she’d pushed aside grab hold and squeeze. After her parents had died, Mel and Tom had wrapped their arms around her as if she’d become their surrogate daughter. Advised her on grad school and now her PhD program. Helped set her up at digs close to home so she could still care for her sisters. Got her here as a paid assistant to work on her parents’ project and her dissertation.
They were such special people. What if they were seriously ill?
No. Borrowing trouble was a sure way to have trouble take over, as her dad used to say. She’d had to be in charge at home whenever her parents were gone on digs, and full-time after they died. That had taught her a lot about leadership, and it was time to lead, not fret.
She had to get up to speed on what Tom’s crew was supposed to be doing in the caves to make
