Reverence.
She was looking down at the humble piece of pottery as if it were a holy icon.
‘Three thousand years,’ she said again, and that same reverence was still there in her voice. ‘Think of it—think of that age...so long gone. A world as vibrant as our own, with international trade routes, art and civilisation, learning and discovery...’
She looked across at him. It was the first time, Damos realised, she had actually made eye contact with him. He also realised the unflattering rush of colour to her cheeks was gone, and that her eyes were grey-blue, with almost a silvery sheen.
She gestured across the site with her trowel and went on, her voice not so much reverent now as impassioned. ‘This place—all of it—is just a minute fraction of that world. A world that came to a catastrophic end three thousand years ago. So much is lost from that time—which is why wemustdo what we can to preserve what is left.’
Damos frowned. ‘Catastrophic?’ he echoed. He felt his interest piqued, which surprised him.
She nodded. ‘Yes, the collapse of the Bronze Age all over the Eastern Mediterranean happened very suddenly. The population crashed...sites were abandoned. Living standards plummeted. It was a dark age—a very dark age.’
He got to his feet. ‘Tell me more,’ he said. ‘Tonight. Over dinner.’
He didn’t wait for her reaction, simply climbing out of the trench and walking towards Dr Michaelis, who was over by one of the tables. Dr Michaelis looked at Damos hopefully.
‘Fascinating,’ Damos said. He paused a fraction. ‘So much so,’ he went on, keeping his voice smooth, ‘that I’d like to ask your young colleague—’ he nodded back towards the trench ‘—to expound further. This evening. Over dinner.’
Dr Michaelis opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then a shrewd look—surprisingly shrewd, given his ingenuous enthusiasm previously—entered his eye. It was, Damos could see—and knew perfectly well why—tinged with surprise.
Not at the invitation.
At the person invited.
If it had been the voluptuous blonde he wouldn’t have been so surprised.
Damos decided it was time to deflect both surprise and speculation.
‘I know Kassia’s father,’ he said, giving a slight smile. ‘He mentioned to me that I might encounter her here on this latest dig she’s involved in.’
It was a lie, but that was irrelevant. And anyway, he did know Yorgos Andrakis slightly—they moved, after all, in the same affluent plutocratic circles in Athens.
Dr Michaelis’s expression cleared. This was a suitable explanation for what his wealthy visitor and hopefully prospective sponsor had just put to him.
‘Ah, of course,’ he said genially. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘is there anything else that I can tell you, or show you, that might be of interest to you? You have only to say!’
Damos smiled politely. ‘Thank you, but what I have already seen is very impressive. I shall give your worthy endeavours very serious consideration. I am glad I had this opportunity to call by. I’m en route to Istanbul, on business, and this was a timely deviation.’
He held out his hand, let Dr Michaelis shake it in farewell, and turned to go. As he neared the cordoned-off perimeter he glanced back. Kassia’s voluptuous blonde colleague, he noticed, not with any surprise, was covertly watching him. Kassia Andrakis, he saw, was not. Her attention was focussed right back on digging. Not on him at all.
A glint showed in the depths of his eyes. Kassia Andrakis might be ignoring him now—but for all that there was only one place she was going to end up.
His bed.
It was just a question of getting her there...
Pleased with his progress on that front so far, he headed back to his waiting car, parked on the dry, dusty lane leading through the overgrown olive grove beyond the dig. He got in, glad of the air con. Then, sitting back, he reached inside his jacket pocket, took out his gold monogrammed pen and a silver, monogrammed case, withdrawing a business card from it. After casually scrawling what he wanted to say on the back of it he handed it to his driver.
‘Take this down to the female in that first trench. Not the blonde—the one with the mustard-coloured tee shirt.’
He sat back, eyes half closed, contemplating the next step in his campaign of eventual seduction. Dinner on his yacht would be the first step. And then... Well, he would have to see what would serve him best. A lot of money was riding on it—for himself.
As for Kassia Andrakis... She would enjoy her affair with him—women always did and she would be no exception. Why should she be? He would ensure her time with him was pleasurable, and she would enjoy his attentions.
She does not look like she’s used to much male attention...
He felt himself frown slightly. There was something...troubling...about Kassia Andrakis. In the normal course of events she was not the type of woman he’d pursue—academic and studious, instead of glamorous and publicity-hungry. But because of his ambition to thwart her father’s plans for her to his own advantage his focus of necessity must be on her.
