With a curse, he reached out, pulled her to him.
She came willingly, nestling against him, her lithe body soft and warm.
For a long moment, Burke held her close.
Only then, over in the corner, brawny, bull-necked Theseus stirred and shifted. A noisy, wine-sodden snore broke from his open mouth.
Burke stiffened.
Like an echo, Ariadne's lovely oval face lifted from his shoulder. "My lord! You do not still feel anger—?"
Burke shook his head. "Forget it, princess. It's just I'm all on edge. There's not much time—"
He broke off; brought up his wrist and strained to read the watch-face.
And that was good for another wry, twisted shadow of smile: a watch, here in Bronze Age Crete ... product of the United States of America, vintage 1954 A. D., wrenched 5,000 miles and 3300 years out of its place and time. An anachronism to end all anachronisms.